#manny jacinto x reader

[amarmoria]

Nepenthe Ⅱ

٠ ࣪⭑Qimir x Padawan! Reader

Why would your master want a Padawan like you when he has his acolyte?

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

"Where did you go?" The dark timbre of his voice makes you shiver. "I, out, t-to get groceries and, and ingredients—"

"Ingredients for what?"

"Restock ou— y-your, uh, shelves"

"And since when was that your job?" He tilted his head, or helmet, you don't know. Mae was nowhere to be seen, it was only you, your master and the fire crackling. "I, you were running out of them so I assumed—"

"Assumed," he chuckled, the cave seemed to bounce off his voice, making it sound more intimidating than it is. "You and your big words huh?"

"B-big words? I don't—"

"That's right, don't. Don't ever disobey me like that"

"Disobey?" You scoff inwardly, since when did you even? Because out of the goodness of your heart you decided to buy a few goodies for your master? Make him proud? and you're here getting lectured about being disobedient?

"I'm, I'm not, you were running out and, and I didn't want them to empty completely, so I wanted to help you restock for the.. f-future .."

Your words die down on your tongue when he approaches you, his long strides opposed to your little attempts at backing away, your back hits the ropes keeping you from falling, the wind violently howling as the sun settles down.

"I leave you for a day and you go dallying to some, some planet?"

"I, I went to O—"

"Oh I know where you went," he pauses, locking your arms in his deadly grip, you gulp at the muscles flexing on his biceps. "W-what? Did Qimir—"

"No." His response came out a little quick, and shaky, but you didn't have to know that. "You really don't think I'd let my padawans go around freely do you..?"

You bite your tongue, you've never seen him angry like this, angry at training yes, but not this angry, maybe he's having a bad day, that's why you bought additional groceries when you left Qimir earlier.

"Answer me!" He shakes you, the wind howling louder once again, you shiver in his hold, you weren't exactly wearing thick clothes, especially when it was so hot during the day, but you guess the rain is coming, or even a possible storm, yet neither gets you distracted at your fuming master in front of you.

"N-no!..no, you don't.."

"Exactly" he growled. "Then tell me why you'd left here with your little ship across the space for something so, so small, so little, so simple"

You wanted to yell at him, tell him you're not a prisoner, that you could leave the planet anytime for all he cares, but you bit your tongue and fight back the argument.

"Something on your mind, Bee?"

That nickname again, you've been called everything, princess, lady, little girl, padawan, daughter, not bee, you're starting to hate the nickname already.

"Hm," his grip on you loosens as is the breath you've been holding since you came, you rub the sore spot on both your arms when he disappeared from your line of sight, he's aggressive, very aggressive, but only during combat, this was different, it almost felt like you were a child getting scolded, almost.

"Hey" your head whips to your left, the tension on your shoulders leaving when you see Mae approaching. "M-Mae,"

"What are you doing out?"

"I, it's, it's hot inside.. haha" you chuckle nervously, Mae only brushed you away and headed inside.

-

Sleep did you no good, you can still hear his voice in your head when you laid down. After Mae came, your bed was taken by her, so now you're sleeping on the cold hard ground, only two pillows and a blanket supporting you every night.

You didn't get to sleep the first few nights, still freshly used to the soft warm bed Mae was sleeping soundly in, you wondered that night if you were going to be able to build your own, but he quickly shut down the idea, naming it as a waste of materials.

Sometimes you pondered about asking for help from Qimir, but you didn't want to bother him, although the thought always stayed in the back of your mind.

You sighed and peeked at the entrance of the cave.

Blue.

The sky was already starting to brighten up, you gently got up from your lying position, careful not to move any trinkets that might cause alarm.

Would Qimir be up by now? You didn't want to face your master today, the thought of being near him makes you shiver slightly.

You pause when you hear rustling, your eyes quickly scanning the room for the source, no way any of them are up during this time, your shoulders drop in relief when you see a small rabbit at the entrance, phew, you thought you were about to be a goner.

You resume, quickly slipping into your shoes and additional protection from the sun, or rain. You hope Qimir is awake, or you'd be going there for absolutely no reason.

You gathered only little things, water, small knife, enough credits to last you at least a few hours, you hope your master wouldn't be too angry now, since Qimir was a friend he wouldn't worry about you running away.

You hurriedly tiptoed around the cave and up to the entrance where you find the bunny still there. You poke it with the blunt end of your knife.

"..hello?" You whisper, you didn't want to scare the bunny, it might make a sound and sabotage your whole escape mission.

You frown as you tilt its tummy, its full and round, and obviously breathing, maybe it's hibernating?

You shrug and resume with your agenda, carefully, you navigate through the treacherous rocks and calm waves, leading you to a small ship, it was advanced, a very new model from the last few months, your master agreed to let you keep it because it had only little buttons to press, you were too confused with what to do with his big ship, although when Mae came, she only had to learn all about it for a day then boom! She can already fly it, so much for buttons, you would've done it too if you didn't have your small ship, but you do.

The tension on your shoulders went away when your ship soared in the air, zooming up to the space, that's when you heard chittering out the back, you frown, you don't remember the engine breaking yet, or screws loose, you flick the auto-pilot switch and pull out your knife, going into battle stance.

"W-who's there!"

No answer.

"You, you better not be armed!"

You clenched around the knife when there was still no answer, you approached the arch connecting to the hallway. An ambush! Aha! You raised your knife, preparing to stab whoever it was when you were met by the same bunny from the cave.

"Wha.." you knelt down, letting it smell your hand. "Now what is a little thing like you doing here?"

You hid your knife back, carrying the bunny in your arms. "It's cold out huh?"

Chitter, chitter

"Let's get you warmed up then"

-

Moments before you arrived you found a box somewhere inside the ship, you poked holes in it and put the bunny there, you decided you'll let it go when you come back.

The chirping of the birds filled your ears, the bustling planet Olega wasn't so bustling during the wee hours of the day, you could clearly see how big and empty it is without the crowds. Your heart beats louder as you approach the apothecary, you hope he's there, he had to be.

You gulp nervously when you notice the door barricaded from inside.

Closed.

You sighed, rubbing your temples. What now?

You bit your tongue, you for sure didn't want to go back yet, you could stay in your ship and wait for Qimir, but it would bore you so bad, exploring Olega isn't a bad idea, except someone might snitch again..

You groaned and rolled your eyes, why'd you have to suffer today. The hair on your nape suddenly tenses up, you look around your peripheral but there was no one there, you couldn't feel any signatures, so why..

"Hey, miss?"

You yelp and cross your arms in front of your face, shutting your eyes closed.

"W-who's there!"

"Uh," the male voice pauses. "That's my line but uh... Thanks? I guess?"

Your other eye slowly peeks open, the first thing you saw was the beige clothing, with a little orange on the sides, maybe even yellow, by now both your eyes were already open, although your arms still stayed crossed.

"I won't hurt you"

"How would I know that," the last few words came out shaky, you inwardly curse yourself, the first rule was to not look meek and weak!

You heard him chuckle, seemingly amused by your guard. "If you would just take a moment to look at me clearly then you'd know."

You don't answer, your eyes were darting everywhere trying to find an exit.

"Don't think for a second that you can escape, missy"

"I'm not"

"Yes you are"

"No"

"I can see you, you know?"

You curse, hitting the barrel behind you, you hesitate for a moment before dropping your hands down.

"Now, do I look like I would hurt you?"

Fuck.

Jedi. You grip the ends of your robes, you haven't encountered a Jedi ever since that night your master took you in, that was the first and last time you even saw one, and now your face to face with a Jedi. Alone.

You search for Qimir or your master's signatures, but none you can reach, you weren't that good when your master dropped you out of his Sith school of learning, so all you can do right now is try to find your way out, peacefully.

"I, uh," you gulp, he's definitely handsome, pretty even, his hair twists upwards on his head, you're sure it would look horrendous on others, but he makes it look good on him, his facial structure reminds you of Qimir, only his was sharper, and the Jedi's was a little softer, and plumper.

"Yord" he says, taking a step forward which makes you step back, the barrels loudly dropping to the ground with a domino effect. "Don't, don't be scared."

He raises his hands up, showing he had no weapon hidden somewhere. "I'm- w-we're here to patrol the planet for a while,"

No answer.

"But," he pauses, frown etching on his face. "You don't look like a local from here, are you not?"

You shake your head. "Quiet now are we?"

You almost thought you were talking to Qimir, but this isn't him. A jedi. With you. Alone.

"So what brings you here?" He tilts his head, trying to look friendly, which you learned a lot of Jedi use that kind of trick when it comes to coaxing a criminal. But you're not a criminal right now huh? Not to him. He doesn't know you does he?

"I, I wanted to buy, something, medicine! Yes medicine, for my friend at home"

"Why so early though?"

"Uh, he needs them asap, or else he's gonna die" you made a dying gesture, and awkwardly tried to brush it away. "Dying friend then?"

"Uh— yes"

"Hm, I might know someone open right about now" he says, moving past you like you weren't there. "If you want to come that is."

You looked over to his shoulder to you, raising his eyebrows. "Uh,"

"It's fine if you don't," you don't see it, but you know he's laughing somewhere inside. "But won't your friend have to die for that?"

Notes: Yord?! He's here?! Hello?!

[fhrlclln]

omg wait acolyte!reader sleeping with Qimir not knowing he’s her master and everytime they hookup, she starts to see him become more dominant and possessive in bed. until one time where he just goes something like, “be a good girl (enter nickname that only her master calls her)” and she just realizes it mid ya know lol. i love you 🙇🏼‍♀️

little star | qimir

SUMMARY -> being with qimir elicited fun and peace away from your duties at hand you do for your master. though, your master might be doing the same when his mask slips in the heat of the moment.

qimir x acolyte!fem! reader

masterlist

GENRE -> nsfw/smut

WARNINGS -> unprotected p in v, doggystyle & outdoor sex

WC -> 1.01k

a/n: filth! HAHAHAH LUV THISSS

likes, comments and reposts are greatly appreciated !! <3

enjoy !!

“qimir…”

it was a spur of the moment as always.

you breathily moan out his name as you grip the bark of the tree whilst he pushes his cock further inside you from behind. the sound of the local insects in the forest are accompanied by the noise of qimir’s groans and your breathy whimpers as he pounds into you with such vigor against a tree. it was amusing to say how you two managed to get riled up in the middle of a serious situation, in a rainforest of all places. you had found him hanging by a tree and it turns out mae had put him in that situation.

“i should-“ you breathily say but pausing as qimir harshly grips your hips making you groan. he was demanding and more dominant this time and it makes your core clench at it. “i should save you more often… if this- ah!- is my reward.”

the snap of his hips to the plump swell of your ass is even more rougher and qimir chuckles behind you. he bites his lips, staring down at how your flesh ripples with each powerful thrust he does.

“i’d take you like this from now on then.” he slaps one soft cheek and you yelp at the sudden sting. you turn your head back to look at him, loving the way he was so different than the first time you two had hooked-up.

it was like any other day that time, he visited the remote planet you and your master resided on, delivering fresh supplies as per your master had requested for him. your master had left for a particular agenda that time as he said to you, leaving you to deal with him. you always had an eye on the dorky accomplice and you knew how he looked at you. the subtle too-friendly touches there and you even managed to flirt with him for fun until both of you seemingly snapped at that very night when the tension was too heavy. to say, you rode him on your bed until he was a blabbering mess underneath you.

but now, he seemed to want the upper hand this very moment and it makes your cunt clench around him tight.

"you like the thought of that, huh?" he chuckles lowly. "you want me to fuck you like this?" he snaps his hips rougher and faster and you couldn't quip back at him but enjoy how his cock is spearing inside you with such intensity.

you only nod your head dumbly as you gripped the tree trunk with all your might to not stumble forward with how hard his thrusts are. qimir bends forward, wrapping his arms around your waist and torso, lifting you up to his chest with his strength and you grip his arms for leverage as he wetly kisses your neck.

"oh, fuckkk-" you mewl out as his cock hits the right spot from this angle. you wonder now, if your master would be displeased with you for having this quick romp when you really need to focus on is finding mae and master kelnacca. you dismiss those thoughts for now, wanting to enjoy your time with qimir. you have to deal with mae after this as she had seemingly betrayed the two of you when the information of her sister osha appeared. the master would be very much displeased.

"right there. don't stop. i'm close!" you begged the man behind you and he shakes his head as he kisses your cheek.

"not yet." he cruelly whispers to your ear as his hand delves down to rub your clit and you whined at him.

"please." you tilt your head back to rest it on his shoulder, you could feel your high coming and the thought of cumming on his cock is getting you near there along with his slow circles he is doing on your clit.

"be a good girl for me." he nips your neck. "be a good girl for me, my little star."

you gasped as his thrusts went faster and your eyes widened at the sudden nickname he had said that your master has always called between the two of you. you couldn't really process it for a moment as you were focused on not letting go but your heart is pounding and your mind is in a disarray on what you should focus on. qimir smirks as he surges to capture your lips in a heated kiss as he mumbles between your lips the sweet words you are waiting for.

"come."

you cry out his name and you thrashed in his arms as your orgasm hits you. he fucks you through it as his thrusts became sloppy, he was nearing his high and you let him use you. you now come to a realization, mae or qimir nor anyone knew of that endearment your master calls you. unless...

"master?" you call out to qimir and he groans loudly as he pushes his hips forward and cums inside you. you feel warm all of the sudden as his cum fills your cunt, you're panicking now as he lets go of you and you stumble forward, catching yourself as you stand straight and turn to qimir.

"took you long enough." he grins and you stay frozen, the dawning realization that you had been fucking with your master. shame trembles in you and you think for a moment that you should flee. qimir smiles at you as he reaches towards your shook figure. you let him touch you and you blink dumbly as his cum drips down your thighs. he stares at that with a hungry glint in his eyes and your core clenches. and you think for a moment if this is a good idea but your master has other plans as his hand goes down to your messy cunt mixed with both of your juices.

"come on, little star. we aren't finished yet." you hold your breath for a moment when he towers over you.

but all your shame is thrown out the window as he kisses you.

[aniqua]

error: b3n3v013nt | yandere!qimir x droid!reader

✧content: 18+ mdni, f!reader, smut, angst, overstim, p in v, mean qimir, dacryphilia, pathetic dom qimir, mentions of character death, edging, punishment, condescension, toxic relationship, reader and the waterworks

✧note: chasing the clock before I head to my job. no grammar checks until later, we die like girlbosses.

✧word count: 4.8K

✧series masterlist

The defense protocols of your system registered the angle of attack the instant Qimir decided to send you a punch. So when you dodged it, you anticipated to be in the clear. However, it was foolish of you to be sloppy. It was a strike that wasn’t in your field of view that took you down. You felt him swipe you from under your feet, resulting in you impacting the mat for the sixth time. Even with all your effort, your intelligence couldn’t make up for the experience he had over you. Your only solution was to whine as you lay on the mat and watch him stand over you with a smirk that fostered frustration in your thoughts.

“Can I activate self-defense?” you said with all the petulance you could manufacture. Activating self-defense meant activating your strength which you understood was one of the many reasons why it was your third time requesting permission in the first place.

Qimir took your hand and brought you back up so effortlessly to stand parallel to him. “And what’re you gonna do if you end up in a situation where you can’t? A glitch isn’t likely–”

“But the possibility is never zero,” you recited in defeat as you recalculated your plan of attack.

“Ready?” Qimir asked as he returned to a defensive stance. His biceps were promising to break his longsleeves yet he seemed entirely in control of every contraction and relaxation of his muscles. You nodded and anchored your feet ready for your next round. 

Qimir went for a few simple swings and weak spots to reinforce your learning. As you blocked each attack and tried–but failed–to land your own, you felt the intensity increase. You made a concerted effort to lock in your focus even as you watched him move like rushing water. It felt like solving equations as variables were rapidly being changed. It all came to a head when he secured a hold on your wrists and pinned both of your hands behind your back.

All the falling came to a stop as you listened to him catch his breath while you mimicked his breath even though there was no reason for you to. It was a force of habit.

As Qimir stood there with his chest against your back, he couldn’t resist drawing a bit closer to let your scent wash over him like a prize for victory. He had you cornered which excited the pedagogue. Not a moment with you did he not use every opportunity to abuse the proximity that he would always have a hand in orchestrating. To indulge, he placed himself in between where your neck and shoulder met.

“Is this a part of the lesson?” you asked as your eyes danced around.

“I hope not,” he said and went for a kiss to your neck. “Do you plan for anyone else to do this to you?” he asked in between each kiss’s breath. You were getting better at reading between the lines he wrote but sometimes it took you a while. The pause to process earned you a playful bite on your neck that had you leep from your skin.

“Qimir,” you called. He still had your arms pinned.

“You didn’t answer the question,” he taunted through playful tight lips.

“No,” you answer.

“Good,” you could hear him smile even if you didn’t see it. He landed a final kiss on your cheek and then spoke a few words into your ear. “[Name], activate self-defense,” he whispered.

Your back straightened on demand as your eyes flashed white.

Without any further instruction, you elbowed Qimir with enough force to knock him far back enough to meet the nearby wall. You hadn’t seen the collision but the thud and followed groan was enough for you to use inductive reasoning.

“Qimir!” you gasped as you ran.

“I’m good,” he sported an unconvincing smile while holding his side. You started reaching for him. “I’m fine,” he interrupted as he held out a hand. “Good girl,” he praised with a gentle pat on your cheek that made you forget your motor skills. “You followed orders.”

“May I help?” you asked carefully as you took his hand.

~

As much as Qimir wanted to refuse your help in exchange for engulfing you in his sheets with a tight hug until the pain went away, there were certain things he had to let you do. When you had something to do, it kept you from getting antsy and asking hard questions.

“Would you like me to remove your shirt?” you asked as you placed down your collected materials.

“There’s a sexier way to say that,” he bantered as he started lifting the hem of his long sleeve.

“Unfortunately, I’m aiding with medical assistance,” was all you could manage to say without causing your outputs to spike too high.

Qimir simply hummed in response. You watched in wonder as his crafted physique came out of the item. His body stretched and then relaxed when he had finished tossing the fabric aside. A faint but present bruise decorated the skin that sat where you had elbowed him.

“Bruising detected over LLQ,” was what he heard as he marveled at your features. The way your hands ghosted over the surrounding skin to have a better look at the damage made Qimir hungry but he was good at being patient. 

“Apply this for fifteen minutes by the hour for the next 24 hours.” You handed him a cold sack of solution.

Your laser focus took you from a concerned lover to a professional healer. It provided a sense of deja vu to one person among the two. He let you continue as you made your way to his back for further inspection without thinking too deeply. Even Qimir had a recent tendency to escape off to other places only to be brought back by the next inconvenience he saw as a fire. This time it took on the form of a soft finger tracing along his scar. The sensation ghosted his skin and possessed his thoughts like a haunting apparition. An uncanny familiarity made him scared to look behind to see who he’d find. He jolted out of the chair once he had processed the check in his leg. 

“That’s enough of that.” He made the extra effort to sound light-hearted.

“Your scar,” you said timidly. He didn’t like the way your eyes twinkled when you spoke. 

You didn’t mean to touch but when you had come face to face with a vine running across his skin, for some reason, you almost wished to kiss it.

“Oh, yeah,” he started reaching for his sack. He was cursing himself for forgetting that you hadn’t actually ever seen it. He didn't know how to show you for fear of you digging. “I’ve always had it,” he lied like you couldn’t differentiate scars by type. But your deep learning told you to drop it.

“I haven’t finished,” you insisted as he put on his shirt.

“I’ve got a head out anyway. Don’t wanna be late,” he scrambled. “Don’t open the door.” He put on his robe. “Your new books are in the box by the bookshelf,” he said as he grabbed a few coins from a drawer. He gave your forehead a kiss and he was gone.

~

You hated when he left you alone because you were left to spend your time waiting for his return hoping he would come back like he promised.

Deep into the night, you had exhausted all your options for entertainment. Five hours had passed and you weren’t even finding the holonet to be any bit entertaining. The sounds of programs zipping by at your command. The background sounds weren’t even all that comforting. That’s how you found yourself dusting the trinkets throughout the home for the fourth time that week. You went from the ground floor shop to the living room, until you traveled up another set of stairs. 

As you returned the mats to their rightful spots, you couldn’t help but peek at the room across the hall. With an empty and active imagination, restricted areas were starting to appear like uncharted waters. The door of the room that you were told to never enter had been left open by the smallest sliver that only an eye like yours could catch.

It was an enticing predicament. Another moment that tested your control over your new emotions. What was once an easy order to fulfill became a sign of your growing flaws. You convinced yourself that you initially walked toward it because you wanted to close it yourself. After all, how could you ignore an opportunity to be of help? Your journey crossing the hall with very careful steps was marked with you repeatedly justifying each move forward.

By the time you reached the door, you should have none better than to let that be your first act of blatant defiance but you chose to override your orders. You were willing to widen the gap if it meant satiating your curiosity.

Your plan was to express that it was an honest mistake. However, nothing could have prepared you for what your eyes would catch. It was something that you never going to be able to feign ignorance toward. 

You stood grounded as you watched Pandora’s box. The first things to come out were the piles of paper that were scattered across the floors and on the walls. Though the space was dark, it was half illuminated by the light of the hall and the other half by the main source that operated in the center. A chamber of sorts that lets you see the entity at the bottom of the box. You’d open a box to find yourself in it. There you were with shut eyes in the chamber.

You almost dropped at the site. There were no distorted mirrors but you were staring at a reflection of yourself that was much paler, much quieter, and entirely clueless to your discovery. The was no expectation for what you found and all your algorithm could say was to turn back from the potential threat. Yet, it was too late now to pretend like you hadn’t seen anything. 

So you took your first step outside of the cave and further inside the room. Your vision combed over the oddity and tried to analyze what exactly you had found. Every aspect of your system was searching, cross-referencing, and calculating. Anything to make sense of what you were witnessing. 

Despite your protest, your other self looked everything like you. The only difference was the makeup and the state of being. You saw yourself peppered with crystals of ice all over you once you drew closer to the shining blue lantern like a moth. Just in time for this discovery, your search found the lantern to be a nitrogen chamber.

Your focus denied surrounding books, scribbled theories, and torn pages on reanimation. As you overlooked your surroundings, you made first contact with your alien as you brought your hand against the glad. With your wide eyes that reflected the blue, your first tears crawled out of one corner. It was a peculiar reaction that you hadn’t initiated but your first chance of self-reflection was interrupted.

“What are you doing?” Qimir’s voice cut through the room. He sounded close but you were hesitant to turn around when his question sounded too still.

“You’re home,” was all you could muster out as you carefully turned around to see him.

“[Name]–” his lips formed a hard line in the sand.

There were only a few ways you could soften the oncoming crash so you rushed to say, “The door was open and I was just closing–”

“I ordered you not to never go in here.” you didn’t miss the way his jaw tightened.

You had no defense to his words as you just watched an oncoming asteroid in silence. “Get out,” he said.

“I’m so–” you pleaded as you started to approach him. Perhaps you could have appealed to his understanding but he stopped you from getting any closer. Qimir reached for the back of your neck and held you from there.

“Get out,” he punctuated every word as you felt his strength lift you a bit off the ground. “Before I sell your scraps,” he hissed and dropped you instantly.

On first landing, you wasted no time and went scurrying down the stairs for your charging station. You connected immediately in the hopes that you wouldn’t have to face him for the rest of the night or the rest of your life.

~

Unbeknownst to you, Qimir never left the room even as the night progressed. He stayed in prison even as he slept. At a floor below, as you charged, you played footage of the encounter just once for deep learning but then over and over again. You watched every angle and projected all that you could even as the sun rose. Even when you sensed Qimir’s stares in your off-state, you never woke up. 

It was during the evening when you finally reencountered him. You stayed on the platform in shame until he came up and through the doors. His first appearance back and he looked as mundane as ever. It unsettled your common sense. There were no clear signs of anger or disappointment. The only difference was the darkness in the skin under his eyes but you weren’t going to comment on it.

“Honey, I’m home,” he joked as he threw his things aside. With clear confusion in the processing face you made, he gave your cheek a brief pat after his approach and left you to sort it all out on your own.

You watched him pretend to play house as he moved about the house getting tasks down. Through it all, you never joined in. You remained seated for instruction which made you harbor the feeling of tension all alone. So you escaped once more like the coward who made you and went into sleep mode.

Three hours had passed when you returned and he was on the balcony alone with an empty flask that barely gave warmth since he held down his alcohol too well. His back was to you so he didn’t see you come to consciousness, but as he taught you, you took the window of opportunity in his vulnerability to take another step into the light.

You snake behind him “Qimir?”

He turns his hand in acknowledgment. “You’re awake,” he says with a bit of a grin.

“I was updating,” you lied

“What did you do today?” he simply put.

You couldn’t read him when he was like this. There was a chance that he was baiting you but you were steadfast on asking the questions that were driving you insane. You were set on making yesterday as painful for him as it was for you. At least that’s how you saw it. You intended to go down kicking and screaming until you were reduced to bits of metal if it resulted in helping your distaste for the unknown.

“Qimir,” you called once more.

“Hm?”

“Can I,” you pause. “What did I see yesterday?”

He couldn’t be bothered to pretend to answer your question as he went silent and walked back inside.

“Qimir–” Hot on his tail you echoed but he turned to shoot you down in an instant.

“Think carefully about what you’re going to ask me.” He cautioned.

The way his eyes were closed to imprisoning you made you take his advice on the first call. There was no need to ask about the obvious.

During your state of charging you had put pieces together. With the way the body looked upstairs and the need for a nitrogen chamber, it was obvious that he wasn’t preserving a clone. He was preserving the living. And if the scattered pages and the scribbled writing weren’t enough evidence, the theories on reanimation were all you needed to know that you and the alien were the same person. There was no separation or duplication. Your mind was being projected into your android body in real-time.

“Why am I not in my body anymore?” You questioned.

He wasn’t shocked that you figured it out but irritated that you had no wish to leave well enough alone. He swallowed.

“I’m in there but with you at the same time. What’s the point?”

Qimir started to feel like he couldn’t breathe. Your inquirie was peeling off the lid that he had done a shawty job at sealing shut. “[Name],”

“I tried going through my memory files but can’t find a thing since I woke up so I’m asking you," you insisted. "I promise to not ask for anything else! Tell me or let me see what happened.” If you were still you but in a different container, why couldn’t you remember anything? It was clear that your creator would have more than just answers.

“It’s going to clog your data,” he haphazardly explains hoping that throwing a piece out would leave you something to chew on to bide his time.

“I have more than enough storage,” you fired back at his lie.

“You wouldn't handle it well” he told you as he already heard start speaking.

“Yes, I wou –” He called for you to stop and you kept going until you both were speaking over each other.

“Just give me access to my memories!” You pleaded as you locked into his arm praying. “That’s all I ask for,”

“So you can know what it feels like to drown?” He spat.

You ate up your words and went silent.

“Because that," he got closer "that is what you’re asking me to give you,” he snarled. You gawked at the challenge in his eyes that begged you to give him permission to really put you in your place.

“I’ll shut you down for years before I ever give back to you,” he declared. His voice rang with conviction that stoked an idea that shot through your mind faster than your better judgment could. That’s when you went running. 

It was one of the most mindless decisions you had ever made but you were getting used to your firsts being a result of last-minute miscalculations and high-spinning emotions.

You could hear Qimir shouting for you as you started for the stairs. If you could just get to the panel near the chamber, lock yourself in the room, and override whatever was in control, you’d get your questions answered.

It was a ludicrous dream because you hadn’t even made it to the fourth step of your stairway to heaven before you were dragged right back down to reality. You felt a force pull you back.

You were tossed onto the ground and saw yourself captured under Qimir. Your legs flailed and your arms went every which way but it was immensely humbling when you saw how little Qimir had changed his position. He only needed to keep a hand around your throat to lock you in your misery as he thought of what to do next. He looked upset but still not yet angry.

“I won’t let go until you stop,” he said as the hold around your neck tightened. You didn’t need the air to breathe but you could feel the discomfort nonetheless. From your perspective, he seemed entirely uncompromising as he virtually waited for your cue to arrange where the rest of the night would go. You knew better than to think you’d get out of this on top. Qimir was much too skilled and much too disciplined to go down without a fight, a fight that he was sure to win. So you conceded.

Your movements died down and your energy waned. Two cold bodies in a quiet room stood still waiting for their next cue. Qimir's faint voice cracked the frozen air first.

“You’re feeling antsy,” he lulled as he took his hand off your neck to stroke your hair. “It’s a shame.” His voice was expelled with such condescension while you were so busy trying to decipher his current feelings. Conceivably, you even considered truly raising the white flag. After all, who were you to question your maker when he could put you down by the end of a heartbeat?

You were ready to give another apology—a real one this time, so you never saw it coming when he directly placed his hands into your pants.

“Your frustration is understandable,” he told you as he immediately placed a finger in your hole with no preparation. Your gentle hands clasped his shoulders on instinct as you moaned.

How could you have known that you missed him inside you? With how feral Qimir was, he held so much restraint that you were pooling at the initiation of first contact in days. His fingers pushed and pulled against your tight cunt with no rhythm. 

“But it’s not an excuse,” he criticized. You had already forgotten what he said prior. “So I’ll teach you obedience through pain today.”

You had no proper picture of what he meant when he made that proclamation but there was no space for you to ask  All you could do was thoughtlessly take in his two fingers in hopes that he would go faster. His choice of distraction was brilliant. As he increased his and watched you try to bounce on his fingers, he began seeing the signs. The bucking hips, the loud whines, the hard nipples poking through your shirt, and your eyes gradually going over.

“[Name], hold it,” he said. That was an order. It was order he was daring you to try and override.

Your eyes went white and you stopped grinding against him as you held onto your release. “No,” you purred in frustration at the feeling. He hadn’t stopped stretching his fingers and grazing your walls. He curled without remorse and you were forced to hold your climax with no complaint. “Qimir,” you called once more.

“Sh,” he nipped your whining immediately. “No talking.”

Your folds got wetter and he only got faster as you held your breath the hotter you got. You were swelling with no sign of relief until the fingering eventually stopped. It wasn’t at all a sweet release but rather a further push into punishment.

Qimir took out his fingers and gave them a lick to clean up just before he went tossing you onto the couch. You weren’t privy to any of his plans as he just carried on with you left to play catch up. He took off your clothes with haste and as he peeled the layered you shivered each time his hands would graze your skin. You were desperate and distracted and it was shameful. Your streak of rebellion meant nothing when you were lapping in his hands at the first thought of him penetrating you.

Your body was moving at his every whim as he pulled you to straddle him. Qimir pulled out his growing cock and aligned it with your entrance as he pull you to him. While swallowing a grunt, he watched his pulsing shaft disappear into your puckering hole in satisfaction. “[Name], bounce and start counting,” he said.

There was no doubt that you were drooling once his balls hit your ass but your system had you moving before you could even savor the moment. You gripped him as you rose high enough for his tip to almost leave you cunt, then you slammed back down. 

“One,” you recited. You elevated yourself again and then sank into his member. “Two.”

It felt like you were choking as you bounced on him and recited your punishment. The way his cock tore you open didn’t come with the euphoria that it once did when he and you were in sync. Instead, you were left to ride out your arousal alone as every time you watched him, he looked to be indifferent and not even present.

“Qimir, please, I’m sorry,” you said through sporadic hiccups.

“[Name], no talking,” he secured the demand “Don’t tell me you lost count,”

You frantically shook your head as you pushed out the number twenty-six. You were sensitive and Qimir certainly knew that about you. By now, you would have been creaming all over him as you gasped in his neck but you were still registering the previous order to hold your climax.

When he ordered you to go faster, you did. When he demanded you slow down your pace, you followed. He put you entirely in control of your edging knowing you couldn't do anything but fill the entire home with your pathetic moans.

“[Name], stop,” was the last thing you heard before you felt your strings cut as you went limp on him. You wanted to stay there cock warming him until you didn’t feel dizzy anymore but he already had you over his knee in a new position.

You felt like you were dangling over the edge of his lap as he parted your lips to expose the bud in between your folds.

“Give me a number,” was all Qimir said. He didn’t explain further to use your inexperience against you.

“Twenty-seven,” you blurted out and it would have made him laugh if he wasn’t holding in his anger. It was the number of days it has been since your creation. He could tell you liked to keep track of the days since it was the one set of numbers that were always baked into coding whenever he would give your software a check.

He placed two fingers in your pussy to anchor you. “Don’t act cute,” he warned you as he dulled his first slap to your ass. You gasped as you started to pull away but Qimir held you down with so little effort. “Careful,” he threatened. He struck you again while keeping two fingers for you to clench around.

“Let this be a learning experience,” he chastised you as he had spanked your tender skin with a loud snap.

He spanks with you counting each time until you’re truly crying under him. “You can handle it,” he continues almost knowing what was going through your thoughts. When he strikes you again, you bite your lip down as you stomach your punishment. For no reason clear to yourself, you wanted to prove you could handle it even when you weren’t showing it well.

So for every impact, Qimir’s rough hands had on your ass cheek, your grip on the fabric of the couch only got tighter until your nails burst through the seams. 

“[Name], eyes open.” He sounded so emotionless. 

Your skin got hotter as your cunt got warmer. You never stopped clenching around his fingers until the very end when he delivered the final blow. A climax never came, however, for either of you. There was just gasping on your end and wetness spilling from out of your hole and onto his fingers. 

Your already aching ass landed on the floor once Qimir had started rising off of the couch. At that point, you had wished the Qimir left you as you were before. You missed when you didn’t feel things like shame, desperation, and pain. As he stood over you, you could have matched his indifference but you cared too much now. 

“[Name], come here,” he said.

You shook your head fervently as you tried to hold off on the command. 

“[Name–” 

“No,” you countered. You were tired of torture. You were sick of the delay. You thought that your consequences were more than enough.

Qimir’s brows furrowed. The first of the cracks in his mirror. 

“P-Please,” you felt a tear run down your face. “I-I’m sor-sorry,” your speech was glitching. “No, no mor-more or–orders. I, I can’t-nt ta-take i-i,” you vomit out. Your software was breaking down.

Qimir came down to you like a god as he crouched to look you over. He watched as you shrunk into yourself like a caged animal. It was time to power you down.

Your self-defense protocols saw him reach for the back of your neck. It was fast enough for Qimir’s fingers to make it to the ring behind your neck but you still managed to grip his arm beg with all that was left in your. Tears were running out of your eyes fast enough to empty your water system if he let it happen too long.

“Ple–Do-don’t shut shut me do-down,” he watched his still face in the glass of your eyes. “Qim-mir!” He pressed four consecutive times and you dropped.

~ 

As Qimir finished unscrewing your breast panel, he lifted the metal and set it aside. Just as he thought, your battery had expanded from the heat of your constant overstimulation. He gripped a set of tweezers and broke the circuit that was at the heart of your function. The piece was tossed aside and hit the nearby table with a clack.

The idea of creation sounded appealing in its inception. If he just got it right he could govern his own fate without any interference. Yet, he made a full circle back where he started and he had to choose to break the cycle before he worsened his insanity.

He ran his hand across his face as he sat still near the platform almost waiting for you to spring back to life. The sound of your glitched begs bounced off every wall in his head as he repeatedly shot back apologies under his breath. Once he had properly disposed of the old battery, he sat back in his chair to inspect his possibilities as he toyed with the new battery in between his fingers.

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[cryptfile]

᪇ꫭ dreamseeker, [ qimir x jedi!reader ]

summary — it all started when you find out he’s alive.

warnings — pure angst, violence, blood, mentions of injuries and tons of tension, sfw.

side notes — 4k+ // English's not my first language so please be kind! went slightly away with this one so would catalogue it as an alternative universe. Heard liking without reblogging makes you fall in an awful curse that breaks my heart in the process so let that sink in, anyway everything it's appreciated!,,, thought about making an +18 second part? dunno,,, thks also for the 110 followers! love you guys sooooo much *heart avalanche*

The air's hot in the room when you woke up.

The sweat made the sheets stick to you body as you got out of bed for the third time that week, a terrible headache forming as you leave the dormitories in the middle of the dark. Coruscant suddenly feels unbearable. You've slept almost nothing through the course of the week, so you surely are in a bad mood when the cold wind of the night makes you shiver at the sudden change of temperature.

I'm searching for you. Even in my dreams.

The words are repeating in the back of you head, scratching a part of your brain while you keep on trying to remember who's voice you're dreaming so much lately.

It's all connected somehow, always is. You've learned to trust the force a while ago, learned that destiny's intertwined with an energy field that holds the galaxy together the hard way, so you know, deep down, that you have to trust your guts in this one, something that you know it concerns you but can't quite understand what really is in the first place.

Dreams. Dreams are a cruel thing that you tend to forgot sometimes, the reflection of the mind and soul projected like a high-class transmission in your head. Dreams talk, and they make you think about things you've let in the past, things you've certainly need to come back at some point.

That's why you can't sleep later, cause you know it means something. You know that dreaming the very same dream every single night for the past week means something more than just mere imagination playing around, far from an innocent scenario.

The temple is silent at night even when the city outside seems to be so wake in contrast of the inside, most of the lights out as you crossed the empty hallway hoping to avoid anyone, cause you know they'll ask questions you don't have an answer for.

In all truth, you don't have a clue why are you up so late, why this deep voice kept you awake when you should be deep in your sleep, dreaming about something more than superstitions. You don't have an answer to any superior, don't seem to have an answer for yourself either.

The Jedi trials ended long ago, yet, you don't think of yourself as someone as successful as Yord Fandar, your talent being far from what it should be expected. You never complain about anything and never would, they were the only family you ever knew and you refuse to lose everything you've been working so hard for just for questioning your bare existence.

"Can't sleep?" The male voice makes you stiff almost immediately, checking your surroundings to notice Master Sol approaching you from the left. The Jedi Master catches you by surprise, your hands already on the lightsaber that is hanging on your waist before you notice you're safe, even when you don't want to talk. "I'm sorry. Didn't mean to scare you."

There are things that are worth hiding, but with Sol? Master Sol seems to see through it all, the worries and the dreams that you don't know if you should call nightmares, even when you try to lock them away for a minute. That's the main reason the man stares at you, cause you expel that smell of desperation, the tension in your muscles as you don't sleep in what seems are ages.

"What's troubling you?" He asks, your own eyes betraying you as they can't hold the weight of his gaze. "I know it's not my place to ask, but are you sleeping well lately?"

"Not really, but nothing to worry about" you say almost afraid that it's going to get you in trouble, the lack of sleep making you think the most stupid things as you stop in the middle of the hallway, making sure there's no one around more than Master Sol and yourself.

Not sleeping is a dangerous thing when reality tends to become a feverish version of itself.

I'm searching for you. Even in my dreams.

You're unsure of telling him what's really going on, unsure of trusting the people you've been close your whole life out of nowhere. A sudden sixth sense that commands you to keep the dreams to yourself, the sound of the male voice you've been listening like the most important secret you've ever hold account of.

It's almost embarrassing to admit you don't trust a Jedi above your rank, that your sixth sense all of sudden makes you keep the truth when it can be something important, when Master Sol has been like a friend to you after all those years of training.

Things have been weird since your Jedi Master was found recently murdered in Ueda, a heavy weight in your shoulders as it saddened you more than you even expected. Master Indara was like close family, and you find yourself missing her, mostly in moments like that when you wish you have someone to talk to

“I was going to the dormitories” Sol explains soon after, walking by your side. “I needed to ask you for a favor my dear friend, and I’m afraid I cannot wait much longer for you to heal.”

Heal. Are you ever allowed to heal? It’s been less than a couple of days since you found out about Indara, let alone the dreams that were tormenting you the rest of the week and suffer the loss, so it seems funny when Master Sol tells you he cannot wait much longer: No Jedi ever has time to heal.

“What can I do to help?”

It’s all it takes to leave Coruscant after, trapped in space in a small ship with not only Master Sol, but Yord and Sol’s younger padawan Jecki Lon, strange enough, also with Verosha Aniseya, a former Jedi you keep an eye on through time passed.

Suddenly you’re traveling through the galaxy and there’s no time for any more tears. Suddenly you need to toughen up and act like this Jedi Knight you’re supposed to be, even when you keep questioning yourself more than ever.

Maybe it’s because of Indara’s death. Her decease came so out of nowhere it shocked you to the very heart — It’s clear that you’re sensitive, dreaming stuff you’ve been getting tired of deciphering, pure nonsense, but then, the ship lands in Khofar and Sol it’s convincing you to stay inside even you’re perfectly capable of taking Verosha’s twin and his alleged master.

It’s your own mind that plays tricks on you, making you believe you’re not good enough to help. Truth is you felt your training as a padawan was not enough, you’re an easy target now that you’re hurt and it seems to make sense when all of sudden the group of Jedis leave you to fucking rot between white walls and buttons that sparkled.

It’s clear you’re affected. How can you not be affected by it? You’re overcome by sadness and anger both mixed together, and that feeling by itself is a dangerous one when in history, makes people question things too much to the point of no return.

So when you find yourself close to the light of the hologram that you turned on being so bored in the ship, your fingers dim between the white and blue rays as you wondered: Is it honorable to seek for revenge? Is it true to a Jedi to feel this gut-wrecking wrath?

You know the answer deep inside. You know it’s wrong, yet your feet think otherwise, cause when you leave the ship in the middle of the night you still debate yourself if you should disobey, if you should do what you want instead, walking through the woods like you know which way to go.

You never disobey any command, so it’s a new thing to openly doubt about the judgement of your superiors, to walk in an unknown planet despite the orders you were told. The path seems to light by itself as you can sense it in the air, the force conducting you in silence as you walked in a fast pace. You know deep down, know everything went wrong.

The blue light of your sable is enough to light the way, the humidity in the air makes you sweat as concentrated in the sounds of the nature, you run, run until your lungs are burning and your heartbeats are so fast you’re afraid the organ itself is going to jump out of your chest. You run even when the long leaves of the plants hit you in the face, when your legs are getting cramps and you can feel the lack of oxygen: The pain is not enough to stop you.

You can hear it from far away, the heat of the fight. The sounds of the physical effort, the buzzing of the lightsables against the silent night. Adrenaline creeps across your blood flow, and even when you can't breathe properly at all you run to the chaos, driven like a moth to the flame. You let the force conduct you as you close your eyes, jumping and elevating from the floor enough to hold the sable from over your head — You attack.

I'm searching for you. Even in my dreams.

It’s coming again, the rough sound of your dreams when your blue sable hits the red out of nowhere, force colliding against each other as the impact is enough to send you directly to the floor. You know who the enemy is, the surprise in Jecki’s face and the disapproval moments after

The stranger is fast and he doesn’t hesitate when he strikes, it’s fast enough to hurt in a mortal way and you became aware of it when Jecki’s falling to the ground and the acid in your mouth is enough to make you look away — The anger comes moments after, the red stains blurring your vision as you let out a scream, gathering the force to dodge his deadly attack.

It’s for Indara, the young padawan, and the Jedi’s he just slayed like they were nothing: It stings in your soul yet you stop holding back, stop holding yourself to finally hit harder, to strike faster than he does, to hurt the stranger as much as he hurted you. And he responds, but not fast enough to beat you, cause you let the metallic back of your sable hit his head when he’s kneeled on the floor, and you smile to yourself cause you have no damn mercy when his helmet finally cracks and it’s enough to break apart revealing his face.

It’s all it takes then. All it takes to froze you in that very spot, holding the sable over your head, ready to end his life with no second thought.

You know that face. You know it when suddenly he’s smiling at you.

I'm searching for you. Even in my dreams.

It makes sense soon after, lowering the sable to the floor without fully believing it, a ghost in front of you as you feel the air leaving your lungs. Drinking the sight of him like he’s not real, like it’s a sick joke your mind made to break you down, to make you weaker.

You’re pulled by a sudden force, by the force. However, falling to the floor hurts way less than seeing him again, the words stuck in your throat unable to speak. It’s imminent, it’s devastating when the pain catches you by surprise, your back aching against the rough surface.

He’s going to kill you, isn’t he?

It makes sense to die by his hand. The memories you two share, the intimacy that was taken away so sudden, it only makes sense to die by the one you loved before, even if it's a surprise you'll never recover from.

The heat of his red lightsaber against your neck is not enough to scare you, but enough to finally look at his face, to encounter his eyes and reveal the truth that was hidden all along between lies. You experience the intensity of his gaze, how it softens when realizing you're looking at him with that same look you have been doing it years ago.

"You're alive" it slips away from you before even noticing, the sound of your voice wrapping him in a haze he didn't expect at first, to be so devastated by you even after all the time resenting the Jedi's and everything they represented "Qimir you're alive..."

He knows you're shocked, the sound of your voice piercing in his ears as he threatened with the weapon against your neck, any sudden movement would slice you in the second — "Hello to you too."

He's real, when he speaks out loud you know he's real, he's standing in front you erasing all the theories you made about not sleeping enough now making you delusional, he's there, standing ready to kill and take what he wants to feel like he won.

It's a personal vendetta, you know it as you expect any answer, any word at all until Sol's screaming as he's taken away from you once again.

He's not a friend, he's not the Qimir you once knew, and he's not someone you can trust again as he was ready to kill. He's not was he used to be, and you can tell by the way he moves, the way he goes against Master Sol hoping to leave the Jedi in the floor, his anger when he refers to his acolyte as a traitor.

He's the one responsible for Indara's death indirectly. He's not a lover. He's not a friend.

You think he died years ago, never really understanding what really happened to the bright man you met in Coruscant, a secret no one dared to bring up. He has the same fucking smile you know too well, the one that make you crumble completely in the sight, and it sadden you, it saddens you he take that path when you seem to woke up from whatever has you nailed to the floor and finally run to help Sol.

You believe you're in the right side, you've been taught about the light and the dark, and you put your heart out filling your mouth saying how you're doing good, how you're making things right.

It's kill or get killed. It’s clear that Qimir does not seem to care about any connection you shared before, hurting you no longer means whatever it meant before, and as the sable burnt your tight, no one cares when you're fainting in the floor, abandoning the fight when it approaches his end.

Sol's mad, but it's not enough to make the master stop to check if you're alive. So many lives were lost in Khofar, and the fight was so demanding you're soon forgot in a planet when the sun is finally rising.

You know you've always been alone, know the last time you saw your family you were too young to even remember, so it's not a surprise when you're left behind. Jedi's come and go, that's why they keep training them generation after generation — It's expected to lose some percentage in missions.

What's not expected, it's when Qimir is close to your cold body later in the early morning. Still deep induced in the fever of pain when he's betrayed by his own heart, his old feelings resurfacing even when he made sure to bury them in a hole in the back of his head.

He's weak it seems. And he should be ashamed of himself when he's the one carrying you back to his ship when everyone has left you behind.

I'm searching for you. Even in my dreams.

Is that his voice? The rough sound that makes you wake up in a uncomfortable place with clothing you don't remember owning.

You're confused for a second before realizing you're in unknown place, a cold breeze shivering your skin: You're in someone's house, using someone's bed.

It's all it takes to make you stand up, leaving the warm sheets behind as your eyes scan the place looking for both a person or a way out. There's a saucepan in the fire cooking slowly, and a smell you can't describe at first.

You move carefully, theories in your mind about what happened that seemed so imposible. You're sure you're far from Coruscant where you should be, yet, you don't feel much danger when you discover you're left alone in what it seems to be a cave, one that lets a windy current enter through a slit between the rocks.

You're unsupervised: Does that mean you're not a prisoner?

You remember fainting in the cold surface of Khofar, the humidity in the air as the air leaves your lungs before entering a state of unconsciousness. You remember Qimir as a ghost in front of you, smiling like he's young again, trying to get to your room in the middle of the night as if it wasn't forbidden.

Was that your dream about? A warning about the stranger being alive?

You don't dare to drink the water, you don't dare to touch any belonging more than the necessary when inspecting. Its more of a hiding than a home itself, so it lacks of belongings as you can't find anything else more than your clothes, protecting yourself from the cold air.

You're not treated as a prisoner, yet you don't feel any safe at all due to the recent events that seemed to say otherwise. You cannot seem to find your sable, and the silence it's making you lose patience.

The cave is a mess soon after, you're searching for your most important weapon, so now the lack of it seems to make you nervous. You search until you're no longer alone, a new presence in the cave as you adopt a pose of defense.

"Where's my sable?" you ask to what it seems the air, acting all tough before noticing who's the person that dragged you to a different planet, the responsable of healing your wounds with a unexpected speed. You know who it is from before, the change in the cave when he's around even when you don't receive any answer back "I'm talking to you, Qimir."

He doesn't talk when he's tossing it over the things he brought from outside, the orange details in the heavy metal shining against the dim lights of the cave. He knows you are not leaving without it, that you're too attached to it for your bad luck.

"Where am I?" you ask soon enough. At this point you lack of patience out of all, you're tired and your body is sore, you're still dreaming that very same thing, and you're not resting enough to keep your mind sane, so it's not a surprise when you're demanding answers, after all, you wanted to know what happened back in Khofar.

It hits you how much you miss him now that he is in front of you in full silence, not in the middle of violence like before, how much you wanted to hug him until he no longer breathes and spat something stupid as a not-very-funny joke. You miss him after all those years of believing he's death, that he disappeared out of sudden without telling nobody, not even you.

The silence makes you mad, and the stranger knows it, sense it in the force when the anger hits you, filling the air of the cave that feels small even when the spaces are big enough. He lied. That's all you can think of, he lied and never bothered to tell you he's alive after suffering his departing so whole heartedly.

Nights without sleeping as you let the insomnia carry you to a state you can't leave, overflowed by feeling you've learnt to deal with in the pass of time. Time heals it all they say, but it just makes things more bearable, help you live with it.

But now. Now it was cruel, it's a wound that opened by itself with the things you saw, the person he was now, embracing his dark side like it was something worth celebrating.

"Talk to me," you say, and you don't know why you're the one asking for answers when you shouldn't. "This is not fucking fair."

Fair.

"Nothing's ever fair," he says, and the sound of his voice is enough to make you shiver. Now that you're surrounded only by the crashing sound of the waves hitting the rocks outside, you can hear him without the buzz of the fight. "Your people know that very well. You make the rules after all. You decide what's fair in the galaxy."

It's a knife in your heart. You don't want him to affect you like he does, but it's impossible when it stings like a burnt from the sable, the weight of his words, the hatred on his tone when he spits the words like they're acid in his tongue.

"I've never made nothing" it's a declaration of self-hatred at it most, how you've not been capable of doing much even when you pride on being called a Jedi Knight. "You know that."

There's no response. You're used to follow orders, not question, trust you're working with the correct side, so his look is something new, something that leaves goosebumps on your skin.

"You're alive," you still don't believe it at first, now studying his factions like they were still craved in stone back on your head. "After all these years, you couldn't tell me you were alive?"

It's a bad joke, one that makes you laugh leaving a bittersweet taste in your mouth — "You couldn't tell your best friend you were leaving? Nobody talked about you all of sudden, you became a dream. Almost making me sure you never existed at all."

"That's what they told you? That I leaved?" the way he's telling the information makes you furrow your brows in response, trying to make sense of what he was saying: Was he implying they lied to you?

"Please, explain me then" you're not in the mood of fighting, instead, you want information, crucial information to what you were choosing to be "Enlighten me. Tell me why you left me there without saying goodbye. Why it doesn't seem to affect you as much as it affected me."

The stranger has grown cold. He has now adapted beneath this rough amour that separated him from what he was before. So he doesn't give you any answers even when you question him, looking at you without saying a word.

You've changed too. You're not the little padawan that followed Indara around and look up at Torbin, you're not afraid of showing your force anymore, after all those years he has told you you're more than capable of defeating any enemy, you are starting to believe it more that ever. Even when he's not around to see that change happen in front of his eyes.

He's not going to answer, he's not talking nor giving you what you needed.

"Am I prisoner?" you ask again, another question added to the pile.

"Does it look like you're being held?" he asks back, squatting close to the stove in the fire to the stir his soup. "No. You're not my prisoner."

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. He always was a man full of pride, but now it seemed he thrive in it, in sharing his knowledge he was sure it was so powerful he needed to take a pupil, some kind of dark padawan he wanted to train.

"I don't know you anymore Qimir," you state out loud, hoping to talk to him as a long-time friend, as the person he was in love all those years but never acted on it too afraid of the rules at first. "I don't know who you've become, and i've been mourning you like it's only yesterday you vanished from my life, yet you've been alive, plotting against your family."

"Family?" he asks, hurted by the words you choose. "I've never had a family. You know that very well, it was always me against them, against anyone who questioned their power, their use and knowledge of the force."

"So is that how we are going to act now? Like pride is enough to make you leave and act like we were never a thing? That I wouldn’t die for you without even question?" you seem disappointed as you speak — “Why you didn’t kill me back there when you had the chance?”

He's taken back by your words, the sincerity as you admit what it seemed impossible to say back then. It’s known by him the feelings he had for you were enough to stop the whole galaxy, but he never had the courage to say something about it, to go against the rules and let alone admit to you anything at all.

So to know that you care for him, even when you talked about it like it was in the past, is enough to make him short-circuit, to make his face change in a new look.

“You already know why I didn’t kill you” he says it so casually while cooking, that even when you stand in the middle of the room trying to think about anything, anything more that him and his powerful gravity that made you spin around him, drawn by his pulling force — “Doesn’t matter who you stand with, i’d never do anything to you.”

You let that sink in. You let him say it cause maybe, deep down, it’s what you need. Your eyes are full of tears but you don’t want to let any single tear roll from your eyes the second you feel the sadness, you don’t want to show any weakness whatsoever, anything that will make you look less than what you really are.

“I could ask you the same” he says soon after, looking at you from over his shoulder in a low voice that sends shivers down your spine “Why did you let me live back there?”

It’s a bruise in your ego, to your sense of defense — Walls up, not letting any feeling show at all. His question is left out in the space as you look at him through narrowed eyes, reminding yourself he’s the enemy.

He cannot have the satisfaction. He’s the one behind Verosha’s twin sister after all, the one who send her to seek her own revenge. You know you should kill him with no second though, to cease with the leak, destroy the rebel cause that was so dark and powerful, so dangerous, but as before, you can’t hurt him by any chance, too attached to the enemy to even think about using the force against him.

Qimir. You don’t expect him to be alive, to be so angry at his lies. You don’t expect him to be the threat to peace and tranquility you’ve been so warned about.

Fuck that. You can’t deal with him again.

Maybe you are a coward after all, not worthy of being called a Jedi Knight. Always too unsure, questioning if you’re doing things the right way.

It’s not your fight. It’s not your place to be, you’re not his prisoner so you reach your lightsaber quick enough to leave his side, holding the weapon against your bare hands as you leave the cave, facing the daylight and the ocean in front of you.

You're not his prisoner, so you quickly leave as soon as you can leave, unable to hold his gaze anymore, to answer a question you shouldn't be asked. Even if it's cold outside, the sun still shines and you are sure you're going to find a ship that will take you out of there, as far as possible — Maybe, even leave him there.

But when you walk, you're followed close by in silence. Not a prisoner, but not free enough to leave free whiningly.

Even when you pace fasten enough to try to leave him behind, it seems like it's not a physical effort to follow you near by, to follow the same footsteps you give in order to look for a way to get out.

What's his plan anyway? Follow you forever? He's going to get tired soon enough, the problem is you don't have the patience enough to wait for it, you can't wait for Qimir to be enlightened by mercy, to be rational, to let you leave so you can be as far away from him as possible.

So at any sudden sound, you happen to snap, to turn on the sable in one swift movement, quick enough to pull it against his neck, almost touching his skin, the blue light reflecting in his pupils as he seemed pleased by your attention.

That's what he wants in the end. Even if it's anger, he wants to get any reaction out for him.

"Stop following me around" it's a knot on your throat, a sting in the heart as you threat him, the sound of your voice almost mixing with the loud crashing of the ocean. "You said yourself, i'm no prisoner."

He can sense your anger yet he's devastated by what you've become, devastated by finally being in front of you. Even when you're hesitating to spare his life once again, he's driven by the smell he was so caught on before, the memories you brought, attacked by the lonely life he was forced to live, the perks he enjoyed embracing his dark side.

It seems like forever, an eternity while the energy just flows, while the tension consume you both.

You're caught in a spiderweb you cannot get out, cause when he opens his mouth to speak again, you don't expect to make your world tremble that way.

"I was searching for you."

You know what's coming next, the sound of his voice like a recorder playing over and over in your head, the vibrations of his tone matching the ones you've been dreaming about lately.

"I was searching for you. Even in my dreams."

It's enough to make you lower your sable.

To make the stranger smile.

my masterlist

[yandere-wishes]

⋆.˚ 𝔻𝕒𝕣𝕜 𝕍𝕒𝕔𝕒𝕪 ⋆.˚

𐙚Yandere! Qimir X Reader

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ He steals you in summer. Castaway on a planet with no name. But the way his eyes shine under the hot sun has your heart beating out of your chest.

⁀➷ Does this count as "That's that me, espresso"?

🪐 Yandere behavior, obsessive tendencies, Stockholm syndrome, blood, and gore.

⁺₊𝄞₊⁺ Espresso by Sabrina Carpender

Dark Vacay by CAS

The heat licks at your neck dangerously. The scathing red glow cleaves through flesh, through bone.

Warm, warm, warm.

The sort of swelter befitting rampant volcanos and rebirthing suns.  

The man, no, the Sith has you pinned to his chest. His force,a dark pulsating thing, coiling through your body, keeping you rooted.

Sol's voice echoes through the canopy. Sending ripples through the blood-matted forest floor. "Release her." His saber is drawn, pointed.

Blue vs red.

Hot vs cold.

"Give me the relic." The voice lacks emotion, empathy. It demands, it takes. There is no room for formalities here, no chivalry you've long believed in. This monster deals only in dark. Taking and taking. "And I won't hurt her".

You try to push him away, to fight. Your force against his, clawing at the dark ether around you, hunting for an aperture, a splinter anything to infiltrate. But he is resilient, strong the way most volcanos are.

Impenetrable.

You moan against the tightening noose. He demands and you must obey. Such a dark thing can even make your master bow, make him give up the ancient blood-red relic. "You have your relic, now release my pupil." Behind you the monster chuckles, an airy noise overflowing with malice, "I said I wouldn't hurt her, not that I'd give her back."

The lights dull. Neon fading into a fuzzy mess of colors too tangled to decipher. Voices weave bending to the blaring buzz echoing from within. The world grows darker, you try to clutch onto something, anything. The cool colors of saber light, the soothing tone of your master's voice. The monster's dark cadence. But it's no use, the darkness prevails, pulling you under its crushing waves, burying you in a sea of nihil.

The world is dim upon resurgence. The air tastes of salt, fresh and dry upon the throat. The earth you lay in is warm, not like the smoldering heat of a bloodborne saber, but the warmth you imagine a mother's embrace to hold. Soft in every way that counts.

The place is alien and abandoned. No family, no monsters. Just rock upon rock and makeshift furniture to further the illusion of a makeshift home. The pounding upon your temples has yet to cease, you wonder if the outlines of a bruise have yet to bloom.

Slowly, you emerge from the cocoon of worn blankets. Bare feet scraping across the jagged floor. You feel the monster's presence linger, his essence strong within this place. You remember the dragon dens you used to read about in fairy tales. The gold-adorned caves where little princesses were forced to dwell.

It's funny you should feel like one now.

There are clothes sprawled across the floor. Vanilla ice cream in shade and shape, they feel too pure to have been chosen by a man like him. Too pure to have been tainted by the darkness of his fingertips. It's only now that the dress glares back that you notice your bareness, Jedi robes stripped and discarded.

That fiend...

You feel skinned, alone. No saber to grasp, no golden drapes. Nothing to paint you as Jedi. It's with reluctance that you lace yourself into the sweet dress, with utter reluctance that you step out onto the beach of rocks awaiting outside.

You spot the man,

the sith.

Qimir

His name reverberates within your head. You lick each letter, rolling them across your tongue and drinking in their condensation. "Qi-mi-rr" the name shouldn't taste of exotic fruits blended and bled. It shouldn't taste like fruit cocktails and coconut cubes but it does.

It does and it's disgustingly delicious.

He walks with the steady strout of a man who knows he is the most dangerous thing on this beach, on this island, on this entire planet. A volcano among mountains.

You follow behind bare feet on smooth rocks. Fumbling across the beach.

Chasing shadows. Chasing monsters.

He sheds his robes like skin, peeling away sabbath vestments to reveal cutis. Tanned and scarred, marred flesh risen like volcano veins cascading across his spine.

You shouldn't admit how desperately your fingers ache to trace the tragic thing. You glid your nails across the notched igneous rocks. Dreaming its soft flesh, his soft flesh beneath your touch. He would shutter under your fingertips as you pull apart his secrets. Nibbling on them like picnic cookies.

He's stripped bare, soft skin caught in the dim sun. His open wounds glisten under soft gold rays. You skate away from the sight, that forbidden sun-drenched sight. Eyes averted and hidden behind the rocks, twice locked, to avoid a rogue glance.

He is nothing if not haunting, forbidden in every way.

Odd how the memory of his bare ankles is what lingers. Carved too steep and too deep in a way that looks too marble. They merge into long robust legs. You can't help but imagine the sculpture of his thighs after, the thing at the end of those perplexing ankles. They too must be strong, carved to define each muscle. You imagine being trapped between them, their forceful push against your meaker body as his ankles intertwine with yours.

"You can open your eyes now."

You taste his darkness in your mouth again. Potent tropical fruits laced with sea salt. He couldn't have known you were trailing after him, you'd been quiet, silent like a whisper.

"It's improper to strip out in the open. What would you have done if someone should have come upon you?"

He treads in the water like a pearl unearthed. Shimmering alongside the blue-green of the lagoon. "You came upon me and nothing happened."

"That's because I had the good graces to avert my gaze from such a sight."

"I'd prefer if you'd look."

He pours water over his face, sparkly droplets cascading down sharp cheekbones. Eyes wide with an odd groggy wonder. The sky and the sea and him ethereally in between. He shouldn't look so magical. Some water nymph playing spike ball with the sun. Drinking in the clouds and blue. Before diving back down into his aquatic galaxy.

"Join me"

"I'd rather impale myself"  

he's treading closer, water shielding his body like liquid lapis lazuli. "I wonder what your lips will taste like blue?" and it's the first time you've ever thought of your order's regalia as something so macabre.

His eyes are half-lidded, licking over your body like a melting Sunday. Or maybe he actually is, you can feel something wet and sinister sliding across your body. Slipping over and under the dress, sucking at pulse points. Anticipating soft vanilla.

You want to rip out his tongue and harbor in your mouth. You want to devour him as if he were ice cream on a summer day. Butterscotch cone with drizzled caramel and star sprinkles. Your teeth ache desperately for just one small bite.

He's standing, growing into a full man, no longer just a boy nymph memorized by soft whites and bright blues. The water droplet clutch greedy to taut muscles, refusing to leave such a Promethean thing.

The wet thing freezes. Running water to ice cube. His force evaporates from you, you bask in the mist of him. Before the shadow roots behind you impenetrable all over again. Qimir steps closer and you close your eyes on instinct. Stepping back, following the flow of sand in breeze.

Such sights are not for us to love.

It tips you off balance, You can't see Qimir but you can feel him. He's closer and closer. That's why you're stalking back. But the plasmic thing behind you nicks your ankle. Lurching you back. In the blink of an eye and the start of a scream, you're suspended in mid-air. Floating above the sands, save in the gossamer of his black mist.

"Careful" Qimir jests

And you crack your eye open just enough to see his outstretched hand.

"I want to take a shower"

"The lagoone is over there" he throws over his shoulder all so causally. like spelling out sea cemetary.

the warmth of the cave is suffocating. Lacing through your body making it breakout into little pearls of hidrosis. You roll over, watching Qimir, solder the cracks of his helmet. The rampant sparks cast him in a galactic white halo. Some intangible creature from the far reaches of the universe.

You wonder back to the incident by the lagoon.

You wonder if his tongue, his real tongue, would feel cool against your flaring skin. Muscle-bound ice cube rolling across your arms, your chest, drinking in your essence in half kisses and open-lipped moans. Sucking tenderly on the veins of your neck.

But shouldn't the tongues of monsters be spiked? cutting deep in search of blood?

Qimir swats the sweat from his temples. Pulling up the back of his shirt in an effort to fight the humidity. His scars transcend so low. Rivers weaving through him, overflowing with treasured secrets. You suck in the force through your lips drinking in its cold confidence. Marching up to stand behind him, only half admiring the rugged skin below the sandy shirt.

"Ahem" Spine straight, head held high. Your stance is practiced, sculpted in the confidence that the order demands. Lightside in every way.

Jedi, Jedi, Jedi

"I know it is futile to ask a treasonous sith like you to abide by the laws of common decency. But I'd ask that you do not come to spy on me while I bathe" Your hands ball into firsts. Glaring death and shark teeth at his blemished back.

He leaves the workbench with all the grace of a crushing tide. Elegance carved from salt rocks and years of walking through stars and shadows. But this time you refuse to step back. There is no dishabille to fear, no sand lines that may be passed.

But he doesn't confront you. He doesn't bask in his rage and stands proudly in front of you. No, instead he paces, or rather almost floats. He's in front of you one minute and behind you the next. The eerieness of it all only comes from the feeling of entombment. He is your cage, your coffin. Burying you under the sand with his precious secrets and red relics. Your nerve beats out of you in little droplets.

Qimir's fingers lace with your own, his hot breath fans the shell of your ear, "How can I make such promises when you act so cute" his voice is coconut shavings upon white sand. You aren't even sure he spoke. " I thought Sith only dealt in absolutes?" his laughter cuts like fractured seashells. Cutting through heartstrings. You want to hear it again and again until you've memorized its melody. "That's what we want the Jedi to believe."

His teeth graze the nape of your neck. That's the last straw, gravity crushes your nerve, and you take off running.

The pearls that shine within his sockets are entirely too dark. You shouldn't be thinking such this as you disrode. But the glimmer of pure drown isn't a worldly sight, it's something unplaceable.

Sith can not be trusted, even if, until mere days ago they had been things of fairytales like dragons and sea monsters. Mystical monsters used to frighten little padwans into finishing their plates. But the stories are true now, they've ripped open the holobooks and sprouted from the screen. Your fingers flex, feeling the weight of his hand in yours.

The monsters are real...

You keep your undergarments on as you descend with the sparkling tides. Qimir may appear at any moment. And you wish to confront a Sith in a Jedi's skin, or what little is left of it.

You're sinking into the watermelon greens and crystal blues, sinking into him... because even so far from the grotto his presence haunts your thoughts still.

"You wouldn't mind if I invite myself in?" The water laps at his feet, he's standing over the liquid threshold.

"What are you doing here?! I told you not to come."

he shrugs and you can't help but notice the definition of his muscles. "It's hot in the cave. Plus you don't own the beach."

He pulls the shirt over his head.

You scream for him to stop.

But this time as he pulls the waistband down you notice something underneath.

Swim trunks.

Bell-bottomed and shaped like a nebula, but only midnight in hue. The cuffs glimmer with red intricacies, patterns from a different time, a different solar system. Each stitch tells some tale of horror or history. Sith things that you'd rather not know. But why engrave them into a swimsuit? Why paint a tapestry on something so jejune?

He treads through the water, deadset on you. And again in every step, you notice a mettle valor that can only come from having killed and kissed your greatest fears.

The rocks are slippery beneath your feet, running, swimming, gliding whatever gets you further from him. But the rocks form barricades of their own. Igneous confines housing prey and beast.

"I meant it when I said you were cute." He has you pinned to the mineral mountains, eyes prying you open, studying your inner workings like a gutted bot. "So fragile so malleable..." You feel his power rolled over your neck.

You didn't expect the kiss. The taste of coconut shavings and caramel. Your heart hammers as he tugs on your hips, pulling you closer. Your lungs burn, filled with salt water and dark force energy.

But suffocating is a small price to pay when he parts your lips and pushes iced star fruits in your mouth.

That night Qimir had tried to feed you soup. Boiled fish and herbs in a cauldron that looks, entirely witch. But the refusal comes not from the perturbation of poison or the primal mistrust shared between star-crossed enemies.

No the refusal comes because you simply do not like fish.

"Just try a spoonful, it's from a rare breed. Considered a luxury on most planets". His entreaties fall on deaf ears, outvoiced by the stubbornness of a crashing tide. You retire hungry, and maybe it's hunger that stirs you in the dead of night.

Or maybe it's the heartbeat echoing from his mask.

He called it cortosis. But it looks more terror than diamond.

You sink to your knees in front of the haunted heirloom, cradling it gently within your palms. The iron flavor upon lips makes you part them, tongue fleshed tracing every welded scar. Sucking in the solder and crystal and every other poison.

You want to be a part of it, to pry open your ribcage and shove the empyrean taj within.

Let its darkness mingle with your blood. You want to feel it's royalty in the marrow of your bones.

In the morning you do not speak about the pulsating thing within. But the mask stares at you as you eat mint and bread from Qimir's hand.

It knows...

It knows things you can never admit.

You'd been planning on narrowly avoiding him. Tiptoeing across the cave to evade stirring him. But the plans die when first light breeches the aperture.

Qimir's gone.

And in his place, he's left yet another raiment.

The dress is summer and doll. Bowed in the back and studded.

Bar'biee in every way.

The hysterically placed designs parody the crisscross of twilight roses and all their thrones. Checkered in shades of obsidian and ink.

But the black of your dress doesn't quite match the ebony of his robes.

It simply plays testament to your ripeness. You're starting to feel like his little doll.

He lies on a beach towel overlooking the sea. So ordinary it makes you choke. Beach ball in the corner by his feet, waiting to be played with.

Fearless.

You wonder just who he had to kill to reach this hubris?

You float down the little exclaves toes barely touching the ground.

He's adorned the rocky beach with a comically large parasol too dark to even have a name. Another towel, a picnic basket, and little coconut cups with straws. Despite his black tainted sunglasses, he knows you're watching him. Caught in the bosom of this haunted shore. Awaiting your capturer's orders.

"You can sit if you want." again he's saying words without realizing how crushing they truly are. Their full weight pulling your bones until they slip from skin.

Might as well have said shark attack and death at sea.

But you obey because despite everything, the towel looks nice and so does the drink.

"The sun doesn't come out very often. But I figured we could at least enjoy it today."

"Thanks," you mutter chewing on the pink straw. You shift your limbs rigidly. Plastic doll coming to life. Pushing tense bones straight as you rest your uneasy head. The waves hum in your ear and you swear you hear the rocks buzze like star songs.

"Why did you bring me here? Why not kill me."

"Well, you're not really any use to me dead" He offers you a melon slice.

"So I'm bait." Qimir sighs, your query exhausting. He simply sips from his own drink. You notice the jounce of his throat with each gulp. How you'd love to ring to those bones, feel them crack between your fingers.

He turns to you, lips a breath away. He hasn't kissed you since that day in the lagoon. But you wish him too so very much.

This isn't the Jedi way...

What?

Qimir's fingers trace over your thighs and hips. Finally, they land heavily on your shoulders, pushing you into the rocks with zeal. He blocks the sun and you can't help but think he's lovelier than any red goliath in the macrocosm.

Qimir's teeth gnaw at your throat, kissing the blood and smearing it with his tongue. Traling open-mouth kisses to the plinth of your neck.

Your nails, rasp curiously at his back, tracing scars, tracing cortosis veins.

His fingers dig into your ribs, painting it in seastars. Kissing starlights and pearls in your bones. His body is hot, scolding. And you wonder if the minerals he surrounds himself with were all nursed in the womb of a violent volcano.

The result of destructive habits is knife bites called kisses and a heart that's finally exploded.

When he pulls off, he poises himself on his knees before falling back to his side, searching for something in the basket. You stare, dress distorted, and breath hitched. You taste the exotic fruit blend again. Burning, caramel, and coconut that linger across your body.

"Hey, can you put this on me?" reality blurs back in, he's dangling a yellow bottle in front of you. "What" he shouldn't have this ease with you. He shouldn't be playing make-believe lovers on the beach with the girl he kidnapped.

But he does.

And you play along too.

"it's sunscreen, believe it or not, I burn easily."

"No"

"please"

"N-"

You don't control your hand as it pours the cream onto his chest. He touches you with such familiarity, the force on this planet is just an extension of him. But you shy away at the thought of running your fingers across his muscle bound chest. What is the force if not a child's toy? If not another doll.

He notices the shyness. Or rather reads it from the air. His force pokes at your arms, laughing at the discomfort. Before you know it he's harbored between your thighs. Large hands holding your wrist.

Firm yet delicate.

He moves your hand over his chest, charting every bump and muscle. Coating the blocker over his skin. It feels like piecing together armor. Preparing him for a battle you've never been invited to.

You don't want this.

Well not quite.

You want to feel his body jolt under your touch and hear the sweet little quips he offers to lighten the mood. You want to capture the fleeting moment where he bites his lip and preserve it for eternity.

But more than anything you want to peel away his armor, his flesh, and bury yourself beneath. Become another one of his secrets and staying inside him. Safe and warm forever.

"Qimir"

He makes pomegranate soup that night. As he nestles your body over his lap. Kissing the half-healed bruise on your forehead. He brings the spoon to your lips and gently nudges your mind to let him in. You part your lips, welcoming him in with the shyness you've been raised on. Blushing little bride-doll.

Legacy. You realize when the seeds erupt inside your mouth.

He's feeding you his secrets, his bequest. Boiling you like the fish and the fruit. And birthing you anew.

You sleep with your head buried in the crux of his neck. Listening to the lullaby of his tattered heart, singing psalms of conquest.

That night you dream of a river red. You blame it on Qimir, the pomegranate seeds were too maroon in color and flavor.

From the crimson water the helmet surfaces. Bobbing in the waves, beckoning you. You cup your hands inside the river, guzzling down the water and licking your fingers after. You let the red kiss your lips and fill your lungs choking you by essence alone. You want to die drinking from the bloodlust. Die in front of his helmet.

So maybe he can call it love.

Or Devotion.

Or anything else equally sweet.

The river doesn't taste like pomegranates, or fruit cocktails, or iced coconut.

It tastes of salty iron, volcanic diamonds and Qimir's lips.

You plunge into the red...

He's thinking about you again. You know it from the moment you awake. His voice is loud inside your head. Reverberating from wall to wall until it is the only thing you hear.

This time the garments are waterproof. Swimwear. Two pieces in black, just black. And adorned with red trees on the seams.

Right, because you beat me in the forest.

Clever.

He has left bangles too, jagged and bruised purple with veins of white. cortosis. Accompanied by a golden necklace that looks like a beating heart, ripped freshly from someone's chest.

"You look beautiful," he remarks after you've dressed in his colors. When did he come in? You need to get better at hearing the man born from shadows. The man who's walking between worlds unseen, unheard his entire life.

He pulls you close, nails picking at the soft flesh of your tummy. Scratching skin and leaving red crescents. He kneels and licks and bites, claiming this new chart of unmarked skin.

This has always been about possession, domination, damnation. "Qimir" you moan and it feels so wrong and so right. Like saber to the heart.

Oh force, how far you've fallen.

Qimir laces his fingers with yours pulling you outside the cave. The sun shimmers off his lopsided smile and he really does glow brighter than every star in the known cosmos.

The lagoon is red.

It shouldn't be red.

"You killed them" Since when have such dire words spilled so easily from your lips? Sol, Jacki, Yord. Are they in this pool? shimmering translucent awaiting a vengeance you do not think you can deliver?

"Yes...But not your Jedi, not yet. These were just some self-pious knights who got in my way."

He brings his arm up showing you a fresh saber cut, before pulling you into the water. It's so warm boiling, lava meets water. You think your skin will peel off.

But you stand your ground. Force directing your every breath. Spine straight head high. Darkside in every way

Sith, sith, sith

You grasp at his forearm, pulling it to your lips. Your tongue finds the slit in the skin and dives it. Mapping out the muscles and drinking in the red.

Exotic fruits bled and blended.

"I think I'm finally getting through to you," Qimir says, brown pearls glazed over with pride. "My sweet little acolyte."

You giggle at the term. It tastes so bitter, like a raw espresso before dawn.

"Oh, master" you moan. As you pull him under the red waters. Lips and legs entwined.

ᯓ♡ : @feedmestraycats @moonlovefairy  @wicked0clouds @phoenixes-and-wizards @peridedarling @morax-on-my-mind @magikmaik @lov4gor3 @manchuria @bucksdonkey @embersofimagination @hauntedhedgehogs @peter-laufeyson @papitas-con-sal @f0odie @boredtone @bluechissbrain @yourfilthydevil @n0t-skywalker @xsister-serpent @gabriqllas @zionysuss @i-love-my-babygirls @pagingoswin @jxp1ter @faebirdie @deezhutts565 @thesithdiaries @pagingoswin @hauntingwolf @scentedbanditlampwobbler @uwingdispatch @mask-knife-is-buggys-girl @lunarsvertigo @scintilla-morningstar @carpinchootaku @penny44224 @suburbanlegendzzzz @jihyos-wifey @reylo-imperium @ladyofyourdreams @sassybananaweaselpsychic @96jnie @@jxp1ter @sunnymoonxx @scintilla-morningstar @carpinchootaku @smutmaniac @alena1100 @marice23top @ohdearmaggie @strawberrycat69

[strqwberryscapes]

hiiii! i absolutely love your imagines of Qimir! could I request a fic where you ask him to pretend to be ur boyfriend because there's some sketchy people following you?

kissing to escape with qimir

content warnings -> none

a/n: first of all thank you!! second of all, HELP THIS IS MY FAVOURITE TROPE how did you know...

"qimir!"

she tugged at his sleeve urgently, visibly uncomfortable. she could sense that they were being followed, and even with her force and combat abilities, she didn't think she could just take down twenty men. armed men. in a busy market. well, she might have or might have not just killed a syndicate member, but... well she was tasked with it by her master- whom the pyke wronged.

"i know!"

qimir jabbered, pulling her further into the crowd. but there was no use- the chase was only getting closer and closer.

she wasn't keen on dying, or getting captured. her master wouldn't be so pleased to find her locked in a cell- and besides- she definitely didn't want qimir to get hurt. she scanned the surroundings, looking for a way out, or at least a hiding spot.

"you were in that business not too long ago! think of something, for force's sake!"

she nudged his arm, feeling more surrounded every minute.

"well, i wasn't assassinating pykes! just smuggling weapons!"

qimir huffed, then suddenly lowered his head to not get recognised by one of the guards.

and that gave her an idea... a very desperate one, but they might have just needed desperate measures.

"follow me!"

she urged, yanking him towards a busy alley. the sky was darkening, casting shadows on the narrow area, and that was exactly what she needed.

"hey! what are you-"

qimir protested as she backed up behind stacked crates and pulled him with her, but closed his mouth immediately as he saw just how close they were.

the silence hung heavy in the air, and the angry voices of the guards were heard closer to their location. they needed to hide. now.

"qimir."

she muttered, catching his attention. her hands came up behind his neck, pulling his cloak completely over his head. his eyes darkened, as if he was completely focused.

"kiss me."

these words barely made it through her throat. this could go wrong in so many ways. first of all, they could get caught. second of all, it might ruin the friendship that just started to bloom between them, or qimir might not even comply and-

but her thoughts were completely silenced when suddenly his lips were on hers. she was so surprised that he actually kissed her, that she didn't move and inch. the guards were rummaging through the crowd just inches away from them, and only that made her fist his shirt and pull him closer.

his cloak hid them both well, and they were left unnoticed. qimir was oh so well aware of that, but with how she kissed him he didn't want to pull away either.

her senses were completely dulled for the short moments of closeness. she didn't hear where the enemy went, and frankly, she didn't even care. she never thought about qimir in that way but... there was something about how he held her that she didn't want to let go.

it was him who broke the kiss. his intense gaze and parted lips only made her breath quicken.

"they're gone."

qimir reminded, speaking in a hushed voice.

"yeah- yeah, we should go-"

she replied breathlessly, quickly turning away from him and making her way through the alley. qimir followed her closely, his arm occasionally brushing against hers.

she didn't know where all of this would lead, but as long as he was by her side, she wouldn't complain.

reblogs appreciated!

masterlist

[thesassypadawan]

Attachment (Qimir x FemKnightReader)

Summary:  After suffering defeat at the hands of ‘The Stranger’ you find yourself being held hostage.  Despite your strong will and loyalty to the order, you end up succumbing to his rugged good looks and your own urges.  Engaged in certain acts, forming the type of attachment that could result in your banishment…the beginning of a new life.

Warnings: 18+ (minors dni), because all the lovely smut.  Rough smex, fun from behind, multiple orgasms, hint of a breeding kink, and…Qimir’s big, thick dick.

Notes: Happy Sithtember all you, lovelies! ❤️🖤 (You, lovelies, can thank and blame @everydaydreamer for this 😂)

- Hips wiggle, tremble as you struggle to not collapse…  Pussy fluttering, spasming around nothing…  Breaths ragged, strained…  “P-please, I need to…need you t-to…”

- “How the mighty have fallen.”  Calloused hand grips your side hard, fingers sinking into your pillowy flesh.  Length slipping between your soaked, puffy folds; rocking slowly back and forth.  Tip occasionally catching your clit…sending you closer to the peak of another orgasm.  “If only your fellow jedi could see you now.”

- Leaning forward, he nips your neck.  Stubble scratching gently, tongue lapping at the new marks that begin to blossom.  “Wanting to cum again so badly, begging me to not stop.”  While he toys, tugs…rolls your sore nipples.  “Until you can’t take it anymore, until you’re lying limp beneath me.”

- ‘The stranger’s’ words shot straight to your aching core.  Walls clench, clamp in response.  Pitiful whines fall from your swollen lips.  “Yes…maker, yes…”  As slick trickles down your leg, coats his thick length.  “…yes!”

- “That’s it, little one,” he coos.  Hoarse voice reverberating, rumbling against your back.  Causing aftershocks to wrack through your weakened body.  “Let it all out…let those last shreds of dignity just fade away.”

- Lining himself up; his fat tip presses, prods.  Lips ghost over the shell of your ear.  “It’ll make it easier for me to ruin you…”  Phantom presence brushes, swirls around your neglected nub.   “…mold you how I like.”

- With the snap of his hips, he slams into you.  Burying himself to the hilt, he growls low in approval when you cry out.  Fists grasping at the stained sheets, knuckles turning white.  Pussy aching from the burning stretch…from being forced to take ever last thick inch.  “Ba-bastard!”

- “To some…yes…”  Setting a fast pace, knocking the air from your lungs.  Thrusting brutally, violently.  Angling his cock in a way where he hits, bullies your cervix with each strong stroke.  “To you…I will be much MUCH more…”

- Pinching your pert buds, giving both breasts a solid slap.  His hand comes to rest on the nape of your neck.  “Your downfall…”   Pressing you into the mattress; holding, keeping you still.  “Your savior…”

- He was on top , inside, all around you.  Driving so hard, bruising the tender flesh of your bottom.  “Your master…”  Trying to rip, drag that fourth orgasm out of you.  Making you a slave to your own pleasure.  “Your lover…”

- Qimir…’  That word grazes, echoes clearly in your mind.  Even as you feel yourself shaking, teetering on the edge.  The coil in your stomach winding unbearably tight.  And you can barely function, yet you still manage to moan it softly into the pillows.  “Q-Qimir…”

- Fingers lace through, yanking sharply on your hair.  “Say it again…louder…”  Pulling you back, plunging himself impossibly deeper.  Grinding against the spot that has your vision fading, whiting out; muscles tensing.  “I want to hear you scream my name when I finally break you…”

- Sinking his teeth into your shoulder, you went spiraling.  Clamping down around him, arms giving out from beneath you.  Tears flowing freely, his name torn from your throat… “QIMIR!!!”

- Peppering you with featherlight kisses, pumping slowly in and out.  “Good girl…”  Working you through the waves of ecstasy; pulsing, filling you up with his hot cum.  “Did so well for me, took everything I gave…”

- Invisible digits cup, caresses your stomach gently.  “Now you’ll be forced to stay here with me…let me keep you and this one safe.  Because your precious order will most certainly no take you back.” Ragged moans, mixing with your broken sobs.  “ After all attachment is forbidden…especially when it’s to a sith.”

Tags: @icytrickster17

[devieuls]

ˋ Haunted .✵

Qimir x Ex Jedi Fem Reader < SERIES >

Warning of the Serie: MDNI. Sith Lord Qimir x Fem ex Jedi Reader.

(during the series)

SMUT: Dirty Talk; Fangs; Bites; fingering; Blood; Spit; Jealousy and Possessiveness; Foreplay; violence; Swearing; Teasing; Unprotected Sex; betrayal; slut shaming; oral sex; dacryphilia; outdoorsex; jealousy BDSM. Dom Qimir ANGST: toxic relationship, self-harm, derealization, suffering, Requited / Unrequited love, prejudices, bullying and insults. There will be flashbacks in this series

Aged characters: Qimir 35 y.o / You 22 y.o.

Synopsis: In a twisted web of light and darkness, two opposites are facing each other, dancing on a thin thread called fate. What happens when light and darkness dance on a wire called destiny, two eternal opposites that inevitably attract each other and create something perfectly powerful and chaotic to unite the power of two in one? The answer emerges in a journey of tension and attraction, where yin and yang discover that their opposition is nothing but a reflection of a deep and unexpected connection. This is the story of how destruction is akin to peace, how the moon one day decided to save the sun, how darkness is not so dark and evil so bad. A journey towards change and desire, where opposing forces merge into a future that no one could have predicted.

(Following some events of the series)

Lenght: 4.9k

TW: THE SERIES WILL BE FULL OF DELICATE TOPICS!

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Chapter I: The Abyss of Temptation

(The shuttle landed silently on the verdant surface of the planet Khofar, a wild jewel among the worlds of the Outer Rim Territories. As the hatch opened, a wave of humidity enveloped the Jedi, carrying with it the intense scent of damp earth and the exotic fragrance of the lush vegetation. The forest stretched out before them like an endless sea of green, where the trees rose like ancient towers, their massive trunks covered in layers of gleaming moss. The thick, intertwined canopies above them created a natural roof, allowing only faint rays of light to filter through, speckling the ground with golden patches. Khofar was a living, wild planet, and they were only temporary visitors, intruders in an ancient and balanced ecosystem. Every rustle among the leaves, every distant call, was a warning. A premonition or prelude to what the day would bring.)

If only you had known in advance that your teammates would die one by one before your eyes as you returned from the hut where Jedi Master Kelnacca lived, you would have thought twice before agreeing to the mission. You had fought against the Sith who killed your friends, battling with anger and bitterness, in a grief too fresh to fully comprehend. In the end, the pain of your body hitting the hard ground was nothing compared to the searing agony in your side from a nearly fatal wound. Your vision began to blur, and you could only see footsteps approaching before everything faded to black.

You awoke slowly, as if emerging from a hibernation that had lasted for years. Your eyes opened with difficulty, greeted by a nearly suffocating gloom. The dim light of a few torches was the only source of illumination within what seemed to be a cave. The rocky walls, uneven and cold, seemed to loom over you. You felt weak, every movement was a struggle, and a dull pain throbbed in your side. You tried to sit up, but your injured side forced you back down, a hiss of pain escaping your lips. You brought a trembling hand to the wound and felt the rough texture of the bandages wrapped around the torn flesh. Despite the agony, the wound had apparently been cleaned and treated with care. Someone had taken the time to tend to it, to ensure it would heal, though it was still far from being fully recovered. You looked around, trying to piece together fragments of memory that crowded your mind. You remembered your friends' deaths, Sol screaming, your lightsaber changing color, and a battle. You recalled the fierce confrontation with the Sith, your fall, and the darkness that enveloped you. But beyond that, nothing. You had no idea how you had ended up in that cave, nor who had brought you there.

Your heart raced, panic beginning to seep into your thoughts. Were you a prisoner? And if so, who had shown such mercy to tend to your wounds? The most unsettling question was the most obvious: why hadn't the Sith eliminated you when he had the chance? A shadowy thought slithered into your mind, and the face of the Sith echoed in the depths of your being. The idea that he might have been the one to save you, to care for you, was as chilling as it was improbable. Yet, you couldn’t shake the possibility from your mind, no matter how absurd it seemed.

You dragged yourself out with great effort, and through the blinding light, you saw the silhouette of a man, barely identifiable. You followed him stealthily, still holding your side and trying to endure the pain from the wound. For a moment, you lost sight of him, only to find him again shortly after, immersed in a pool of water in what seemed to be a coastal area with black sand you couldn’t identify. Your eyes fell on the figure facing away from you, submerged in the water, his muscles relaxed, his raven hair wet and slicked back. To your eyes, the man seemed completely unaware of your presence, though he appeared to have a vigilant awareness of the surrounding area. You moved silently among the rocks and vegetation, observing your target until your gaze fell upon a pile of clothes near the shore, where the deactivated lightsaber lay. With swift and somewhat precise movements, you approached the lightsaber. Tension mounted inside you as you crouched to pick it up, aware that any sound could betray your presence. You grasped the metallic object and assumed an attack position as the man began to speak, still with his back turned while he calmly washed himself.

"how does it feel?" he said, turning towards you. You recognized him immediately. The mere sight of his face sparked rage within you. "Pleasant, don't you think?" His tone was a piercing screech to your ears. You gritted your teeth, not responding, remaining in your attack stance. "Your stance is good despite the wound on your side, but your elbows are a real mess. I had my doubts when we fought last time, and now I see why it was so easy to defeat you. Your elbows are too low; you should keep one higher, you know?" he continued, observing you. "…To block more quickly and strike with more precision." He took a brief pause. "Since you don’t know how to use the Force, you should learn to block better," he concluded, stepping out of the water, now only a few steps away from you.

"Don’t move," your stance changed, now aiming the off lightsaber directly at him. Your gaze was sharp and cold. "If you don’t want to join me, at least let me put my clothes on" he said. You took a slight step back, allowing him to exit the water. You swallowed, trying not to let your gaze fall on the naked, wet defined body of the man, keeping in your mind that he was your enemy. You began to ponder whether it was appropriate to attack him now. But it was neither Jedi-like to strike a defenseless man nor to act in such a dishonorable manner. "Surely, you’re wondering if it’s honorable to kill me like this," he began, his tone different from the one used in battle. You swallowed. Your gaze fell for a second on his chest, and you cursed yourself for the terrible idea. "In battle it’s justified, but days later isn’t it revenge?" he asked with a sarcastic tone, as if he already knew the answer. "And now you wonder if I can read your mind… and the answer is… no. Anger betrays your thoughts" he continued, dressing himself as if you weren’t pointing a weapon at him. His gaze seemed oddly gentle, more delicate, almost innocent. So much so that he almost didn’t seem like the same man who had killed seven Jedi just a few nights before.

"Why did you bring me here? Why didn’t you kill me?" you asked, watching him sternly, uncertain of what to do next. "Am I your prisoner?" "Prisoner? You’re the one with a weapon" he said with an overly calm look and an obvious tone in his voice, as he walked back towards the cave, passing by you without fear. You followed him, teeth clenched. You wanted revenge on this man, but what a miserable person you would be to strike him from behind while he was unarmed. "If you keep me here, Sol will come for you. He’s found me before, and he’s powerful with the Force." Your voice sounded threatening, though not as forceful as you’d hoped due to the stabbing pain in your side. The man turned and looked at you with a puzzled expression. "Do you think he’s powerful with the Force? It’s you who’s powerful with the Force, y/n. Someone should teach you," he said. You were stunned for a few seconds, as he knew your name. To you, he was a stranger, but you didn’t seem to be as unknown to him. The stranger walked back into the cave, and you followed him, confused. "In what way am I powerful with the Force? You should know it’s something to be practiced. If you don’t train it, it fades" you said, your voice still sharp as you scrutinized the man who seemed so at ease in your presence. You had long abandoned being a Jedi, retreating shortly after becoming officially part of the Order. If it hadn’t been for your sister leaving a trail of blood wherever she went, you would have stayed far away from that world. You had lost every Force ability, not having practiced it for many years. You vaguely remembered how to use a lightsaber, thanks to Sol, who had helped you recall the skills during the time you spent together, training with his young Padawan Jecki.

The stranger was seated next to what appeared to be a small campfire, while you kept your distance. He tasted the food he was cooking. You didn’t trust him; something about him made you suspicious, aside from the fact that he had decimated your team. "You know… The Jedi teach that there’s only one way to access the Force, and if you don’t do it their way, it fades. But there’s another way," he said gently, turning his gaze toward you. "Beneath the surface of consciousness, there are powerful emotions." "Anger. Fear. Loss…" he slowly mentioned the emotions you had learned to suppress, as you had been taught in the Order during your time as a Jedi Padawan. "…desire." The last emotion was spoken almost in a whisper as he took on a more serious and penetrating expression. You swallowed, observing him with disdain, though you subconsciously held your breath as he listed the emotions. "That’s the path to the dark side," the words came out acridly from your mouth.

The man’s expression darkened for a moment, but he quickly masked it with a mocking smile. "semantics… You Jedi are so closed-minded," he replied, turning back to the fire, stirring the stew he was cooking. "The light side isn’t the only way to access the Force. The dark side… amplifies emotions. It’s just another way to access the Force. A way… to freedom." His convincing tone almost seemed reasonable, though it was contrary to your way of thinking. "You killed my friends," your gaze grew even sharper and more bitter, as your hand still gripped the hilt of the deactivated lightsaber, seeking comfort in the familiar cold metal. The Sith’s words were like poison seeping into your mind, exploiting the insecurities you had always tried to suppress. "Friends? That’s what you call people who come to seek you only in moments of need and then ignore your existence?" His voice was laced with a mix of disdain and feigned compassion. Every word from this man was a blade sinking into your soul, touching raw nerves you had tried to ignore. You had been trained to combat fear, anger, desire—all emotions that, if left unchecked, could lead you down the dark path. But at that moment, you felt the internal storm growing, fueled by suffering and loss, a mourning.

"War isn’t pretty, y/n, sometimes…" he began, his voice dropping to a near-whisper as he stood up, beginning to walk toward you with determined steps, never breaking eye contact. "Sacrifices must be made for a greater good." He stopped just inches from you, his penetrating gaze studying you with a mix of cynicism and desire, as if challenging you to contradict him. Every fiber of his being radiated an irresistible force, a magnetism that seemed to envelop him like a shadow. He leaned slightly toward you, his warm breath brushing against your skin as his lips dangerously neared your ear. "Your friends," he whispered with a cold, almost contemptuous tone, "were just collateral damage." His words were like sharp knives—cutting and relentless—but the seductive tone with which he spoke betrayed an unsettling intimacy, as if he were confiding a dark secret that only you could understand.

The stranger leaned back slightly, just enough to meet your gaze. His dark eyes, deep as an abyss, stared at you with an intensity that seemed to penetrate directly into your soul. His face was close, too close, and his expression was serious, almost sorrowful, but there was no trace of remorse—only a dark understanding. "Why do you love people who can only go so far?" His voice dropped further, becoming a near-confidential whisper. "Who can’t go as deep as you can?" His gaze was intense, his eyes locked onto yours with an expression that seemed to reveal far more than his words had. There was a hidden desire, a need struggling to surface, but the man skillfully masked it, maintaining a subtle balance between cynicism and seduction.

You held your breath, feeling the weight of his words and his proximity. You knew that behind those words lay a darkness trying to corrupt you, but his allure was dangerously real. Your mind was conflicted, torn between repulsion at the Sith’s cynicism and the irresistible magnetism surrounding him. The man gave you a slight smile, a smile that never quite reached his eyes, as he pulled back just a few centimeters, leaving you teetering between temptation and inner struggle. "Maybe, y/n," he added in a mellifluous voice, "you’re destined for something more… something greater… something that I can show you." "I’m not my sister. I’m not so easily corrupted," you said, looking him straight in the eyes, trying to maintain control over yourself. Every fiber of your being struggled to suppress the tumultuous emotions the stranger had tried to awaken in you. Your heart pounded loudly, betraying you, but your face remained impassive, covered by a studied veil of disgust. With a slow, deliberate motion, you took a step back, putting distance between you, your gaze charged with superiority and defiance.

Qimir observed you with an impassive expression, but behind his dark eyes was growing interest, a sort of admiration for your resilience. To him, you were not like the other Jedi he had encountered, too weak or easily swayed. In you, he saw a potential acolyte, someone with an inner strength that could be nurtured and guided toward an even greater power. A subtle smile appeared on his lips, a nearly imperceptible curve that betrayed his pleasure at seeing you so determined. "You’re not like your sister, that’s true," he admitted with a tone that seemed both a compliment and a challenge. He took a step toward you, closing the space between you once more, but this time with an even more calculated calm, like a hunter who knows its prey. "But don’t mistake your determination for invulnerability," he continued, his voice soft and sharp as a blade. "The force you suppress within you, the force you’ve learned to stifle, is what could make you great—much greater than the Jedi could ever imagine. I see in you a potential that goes beyond the limitations of their dogma, and that is what frightens them." He stopped just a few steps from you, his gaze locked on yours, trying to pierce through the mask you had erected. "I’m not here to corrupt you," he whispered, his voice almost persuasive. "I’m here to offer you a choice, a path that the Jedi have always denied you. A road to a freedom you don’t yet know." You felt a shiver run down your spine, but you refused to show any weakness to him.

"I don’t need your freedom," you replied coldly, your voice steady despite the internal turmoil. "Your whispers don’t touch me. I know who I am and what I represent." "So sure of yourself" he murmured, with a tone that seemed to appreciate your determination. "But what do you truly represent, y/n? A Jedi struggling against her own nature, stifling the potential that could make her truly powerful? Oh… perhaps I should say, ex-Jedi?" he asked with ironic amusement, towering over your figure. You clenched your teeth, pointing the hilt of the deactivated lightsaber at his stomach.

He tilted his head slightly, amused, his gaze growing more penetrating as he sought to reach that part of you he knew existed—the part that thirsted for knowledge, power, something more. “You feel the Force, you perceive it in ways that even the Jedi cannot understand. And you know there is a greater, deeper power calling you. It is not betrayal to explore that possibility. It is… evolution.” His words, spoken with such conviction, seemed to echo in the cave, breaking through the barriers you had erected to protect yourself. You raised your lightsaber to meet the man's neck. “Do it… light it” he ordered, his tone of challenge making your blood boil. The Sith, on the other hand, seemed delighted by your anger, his sharp and contemptuous smile only fueling the tension. Qimir merely tilted his head slightly to the side, offering his neck completely to you, his penetrating gaze fixed on the lightsaber you pointed at him, waiting for the moment you would decide to ignite it.

“A Jedi… does not attack the unarmed" you said through gritted teeth, your voice a murmur of frustration and determination. Your mind was a tumult of emotions, but your will to remain true to your principles was steadfast. “Do you still think you’re a Jedi?” he asked, his voice low and enveloping, almost hypnotic. “Don’t you remember how your lightsaber changed color the last time? Do you still believe you must adhere to a code you’re questioning within yourself?” Those words hit like a punch to the stomach, evoking images you would have preferred to forget. The blade of your lightsaber, once glowing a pure blue, had trembled, taking on red hues like those of the man before you. You took a step back, your heart racing, desperately trying to put space between you and that voice which seemed to read into you with ruthless precision. But the man gave you no respite. His hand moved with surprising speed, gripping your arm in a gentle yet firm hold. His fingers closed around your wrist, not enough to hurt, but enough to keep you from withdrawing the saber from his neck. The contrast between the contained strength of his touch and the relaxed calm of his face left you breathless.

His penetrating gaze was fixed on your eyes, a subtle yet relentless challenge. “You know yourself that after what’s happened you couldn’t return to the Jedi even if you wanted to,” he whispered, his tone charming and confident, as if he had already won this silent battle. “Sol has seen it, don’t believe that after succumbing to rage and revenge you can return to a position that no longer belongs to you.” You felt trapped, not so much by his hand holding you but by the words resonating inside you. His words seemed to challenge every certainty you had until that moment. Every fiber of your being wanted to reject him, but there was something in his tone, in the way he looked at you, that made you doubt, even if just for a moment. Qimir moved closer, his warm breath against your skin, each movement calculated with lethal precision. “It’s not a matter of principles, y/n,” he continued, his tone now almost seductive. “That pain, that anger… this is what you are.” Your breath grew irregular, your heart pounding in your chest as you struggled to maintain control. “Let me go.” you threatened, your voice a low growl, but you knew there was a shadow of hesitation you couldn’t hide.

“Sol saw it… the Jedi saw it” he continued, his tone now softer but laden with cruel truth. “And for that, they will throw you away, again.” His piercing gaze cut into you, as your eyes took on an expression of anger and fear at his words. You felt his words like a sharp blade piercing through your defenses, and your gaze hardened, but you couldn’t hide the flicker of fear in your eyes. The fear that, deep down, he might be right. The fear that your Order, those you would give your life to protect, might indeed see you as a threat, something to be eliminated. The Sith sensed that shift within you, and his gaze became even more penetrating, probing every corner of your mind. It was as if he could see every weakness, every hidden thought, and he used them with a terrifying skill. “You can’t hide from what you are, y/n. The dark side isn’t a weakness… it’s your strength. And you know it.” You gritted your teeth, disgust and anger mixing into an explosive blend that pushed you closer to the edge. He seemed to know exactly which buttons to press; every word, every look was a sharp blade striking at your raw nerves. The tension inside you grew, turning into a knot that threatened to snap. Until you could no longer hold it back, and it was in that moment that you ignited the lightsaber, the glowing blade just a breath away from his neck. “It won’t be like that,” you hissed, your voice barely above a whisper, desperately trying to stay calm, though your eyes betrayed the mask of confidence you wore. “I will not succumb to the dark side.”

The man remained still, his mocking smile slowly widening as his eyes stayed fixed on yours, as if he were looking through you, reading every hidden thought. He swallowed slowly, a gesture that seemed almost like an invitation, a further provocation. The blade of your saber illuminated his face, but there was no trace of fear in his eyes, only a cold calm. “It’s not something you have to give in to… it’s inside you,” he said with that velvety voice of his, each word a whisper insinuating doubt into your certainties. His words struck you like a blow to the heart, breaking that fragile barrier you were desperately trying to maintain. “Your potential is immense,” he continued, lowering his voice to a warm, almost intimate whisper. Your gaze grew sharper as the subtle poison in his words sought to seep into your consciousness. The lightsaber blade barely touched his skin without making contact, his calm expression only annoying you. It was as if the threat had no effect on him, as if he knew you would never have the courage to go through with it. Every movement he made was slow, deliberate, calculated to keep you on edge, playing with your emotions like a master puppeteer. Anger bubbled within you, a fire growing ever stronger, fueled by his words, his confident smile, the way he seemed to control everything. You couldn’t deny it; there was a part of you that wanted to give in, that wanted to let go of the anger, the pain that burned so intensely. And he knew it; you could feel it in his voice, see it in his eyes.

“I understand…” His voice was a seductive whisper, just above a breath, as his hand rose with studied slowness, approaching yours without ever touching it. His eyes, which had been filled with impenetrable confidence until now, took on a new light, something deeper, almost vulnerable. “I’ve lost everything, y/n…” His gaze now seemed sincere, almost pleading for some strange reason. “But when you lose everything,” he continued, his hand now resting on yours, which still gripped the cold lightsaber handle. The contact was surprisingly gentle, a light pressure, but enough to make you feel the warmth of his skin against yours. His grip was soft but firm, and the contrast between his words and the apparent gentleness of the gesture made you waver. “That’s when you’re truly free,” he concluded, his voice a whisper carrying an inescapable weight, an invitation to surrender, to let go of everything that still bound you to the light. His gaze locked onto your eyes, deep, almost pleading, but not for pity: for understanding, for sharing. It was as if he wanted you to see the world through his eyes, to understand that the dark side wasn’t a condemnation but a liberation. His words struck you forcefully, penetrating your defenses once again with lethal precision. It wasn’t just a mental game; there was something genuine in the pain that lingered in his voice, a shadow of loneliness that echoed your own torment. And in that moment, the Sith you had seen as an implacable enemy became a figure that seemed to understand your suffering, your anger.

“The anger you feel, the pain that consumes you… you don’t have to fight it,” he continued, his tone calm and inviting. The tension between you was thick, almost suffocating. You felt the dark side’s pull toward him, the promise of freedom shining like an irresistible temptation. But there was something more in that man, something human, making it harder to you to ignore. The sincerity in his gaze, his voice dropping to an almost intimate whisper, made you doubt your certainties. His hand, warm against yours, made you feel dangerously close to an abyss you weren’t sure you wanted to avoid. You remained still, analyzing his words in your mind. The lightsaber still tightly gripped in your hand, your teeth clenched as you swallowed before sighing, thinking about what you should do. You deactivated the lightsaber and stepped away from him, pressing the hilt of the now-deactivated saber against his chest. You wouldn’t be deceived by his seductive words. You knew who you were and what you fought for. But, inside, a small part couldn’t help but wonder: what if he was right?

“You don’t know me to tell me these things. And as I’ve said, I’m not corruptible like my sister,” You hissed, your voice charged with a tension the man couldn’t help but appreciate. He let his smile spread slowly across his face, watching with almost amused interest as you deactivated the lightsaber and then pressed the hilt against his chest. The determination in your eyes, the resolve in your gesture, fascinated him. It wasn’t the reaction he had expected, but there was something in you, an inner strength, a resilience that intrigued him deeply. He could see the internal struggle you were facing, the conflict between the Jedi code and the emotions he had deliberately stirred.

The Sith, with a slow and measured gesture, placed the hilt of the deactivated lightsaber on a nearby rock. The smile on his face shifted into a smirk of satisfaction. “Perhaps I know you better than you think,” he admitted, his voice soft and filled with an intensity that echoed in the silence of the cave, where only the crackling of the fire could be heard. “I see who you are… who you could be. Your strength, your will…” His steps continued to close the distance between you, and you took a step back, trying to maintain the space between you. He gently took your wrist and pulled you slightly towards him, towering over your smaller figure. He looked at you with what might have seemed like admiration or… desire. You held your breath, swallowing, paralyzed by what could be the gentlest yet most dangerous of predators. The man brought his face closer to yours, the distance between you reduced to mere centimeters, his breath mingling with yours, warm and slow. His touch was once again firm but never painful. His eyes, dark as the abyss, glowed with an intensity that slowly captivated you. You found yourself hanging on his lips, almost asking for permission to breathe regularly. “It is rare…” he concluded. You took a deep breath, and the tension between you was growing increasingly palpable. His tone was like sweet poison, flowing slowly through your veins, making you doubt once more everything you had always believed. His hand slowly moved from your wrist to your side, stopping just below your ribs, where the wound, though treated, still throbbed painfully. The contact, though light, made you flinch, a mix of pain and something else you couldn’t quite identify. You felt the warmth of his body against yours, the tension between you becoming almost unbearable.

“You’re still loyal to someone who didn’t think twice about abandoning you to the enemy on Khofar some nights ago…” You swallowed at his words, feeling the knot in your throat that blocked every word and the weight in your stomach. “Deep down, you’re still searching for a master, someone to guide you… That life, you’ve never truly felt it as your own; they never understood you,” he continued, his gaze fixed on your eyes as if he could see inside you, reading every thought, every hidden emotion. “But I can.” For a moment, you felt yourself falter at those words. The tension between you was palpable, and you could not take your eyes off what must be your enemy, although your mind tried to keep lucidity. Your breathing was slow and irregular, each breath an attempt to hold back an invisible and unknown force that seemed to want to overwhelm you. The knot in your throat was getting tighter, blocking the words you wanted to say. Your eyes were mesmerized. There was an incredible intensity in those foxy eyes, a mixture of fear and fascination that left your heart inexplicably throbbing and mind confused. You failed to swallow trying to make words come out to counter his claims

“You are like me…” he whispered a short distance from your lips.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Notes :

Well, yes, the sexy hot af villain who will be the protagonist of the new series is Him. Qimir, from The Acolyte. If you don’t know him, go and watch that series because Manny Jacinto put all his effort to seduce us towards the dark side. This is just the beginning, still do not know how many chapters will have but I hope not many, I would like to write about more topics for him.

if you haven’t seen the series there will be some spoilers, so please watch the series first

-Mel

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚

[multi-fandoms-posts]

Smut 18+

Imagine:

Qimir sees you for the first time in your new Sith outfit.

I'm sitting in my room, looking at something on the holopad, when there's a knock. "Y/N, time to train!" Qimir calls. "Yes, Master, just a moment, I still have to change," I say, hurrying up because I've completely forgotten about training.

I love training with my master. I love the way he gives orders. I grab my lightsaber and go downstairs. "Sorry, Master," I say. "It's fine, let's get started," he says, turning to me. Qimir looks me up and down. "Is this new?" he asks. I can see he likes it, and that was exactly my plan. "Yes, Master," I say. "Don't you like it, Master?"I ask. I see Qimir's eyes widen in shock. "The outfit looks good on you," he smiles. "Thank you, Master," I smile.

Even though it's unlikely that he loves me, I've decided to tease him a little here and there. Today, I just wanted to challenge him. I want to see how far I can go.

“Master,” I say. “Yes,” he says.

"Can you show me the lightsaber exercises again? I don't know how to hold it," I say. "Of course," says Qimir and takes out his lightsaber to show me the exercises. I know how to do it, of course, but I want to see how far I can go.

"Master, it just doesn't work," I say frustrated. "I'll show you differently," he smiles. Ohoh, that's easy to misunderstand. Qimir comes behind me and takes my hand in his. I can feel his warmth. This is going better than I thought. I press myself a little closer to his crotch and hear a quiet growl from him. I repeat it, only this time I feel a hardening.

I suddenly feel breath in my ear. "It would be better for you if you stopped," he growls. "Do you think I don't notice that you're playing dumb here?" he whispers in my ear. I'm shocked. "Did you think you could trick me, your master, like that?" he growls and presses himself against me. A quiet moan escapes me when I feel the girth of his cock. "Shit," I curse.

I didn't think it would come to this. "Are you so needy for your Master?" he grins. I can't say a word, this is all so intoxicating. I never thought it would go this far, but I like it. Qimir suddenly pulls away from me completely and I turn to face him. "Answer me when I ask you" he says roughly. "Y-yes, Master," I say, looking away.

My confidence is waning. Qimir grabs me gently and forces me to look at him. "For months I've heard your thoughts, how you think about me, how you try to upset me. I always hear you when you touch yourself, how you wish I would touch you like that," he growls. I look at him in shock. I'm embarrassed now. He knew it all along.

"Master, I..." I am interrupted as his hand slowly slides into my panties. I gasp. His fingers touch my entrance. "You're so wet" he growls, biting my earlobe "Qimir" I moan "That means Master to you" he says as he sticks a finger inside me "Shit" I moan and cling to him "You're mine" he says as he sticks another finger inside me and increases his pace. Just before I could come, he pulls his fingers out. I moan at the sudden emptiness and scowl at him. Before I can say anything, he kisses me gently. I kiss him back immediately. "Let's go to my room and you show me how much you want your Master," he grins. "Yes, Master," I grin.

I never imagined it would end like this, but I'm not complaining. It's going to be an interesting night.

[annmaximoff18]

Y/N: I...ummm...I think we should join him.

Osha: What?

Y/N: I'm just saying that he looks very good, too good *looks at Quimir carefully

[amarmoria]

Nepenthe

꩜.ᐟ Qimir x Padawan! Reader

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

Notes: I've seen fics abt padawan reader and none can quench my thirst eugh😫pls note i have nooo idea what goes on in the star wars universe please don't come for me😣

"Hand me that one, fast" He gestured to the purple fruit just beside you, not daring to glance at you. "Yes, sir"

You curiously peeked over your master as you handed the fruit, what was so important it had him rushing like this?

"It's for Mae," he says, the squelching fruit making you frown, you forget he reads minds as easily as breathing. Your frown deepens as you remember. Mae. His acolyte, he took you in a few months before Mae came, that first few months felt like heaven, it was just you and him, in this unknown planet, training, practicing.

Yet, after Mae came, it almost felt like you were some kind of servant for the both of them, he trained with her day and night, leaving you to fend for yourself, he told you it's because you've already been trained by him, that you don't need to anymore, you didn't mind, you got along with Mae... on your perspective that is.

Mae was a fast learner, you were proud of her, now you have someone to share your training with, converse like a normal person, but later you realized that him and her were two sides of the same coin, quiet, mute, they don't like conversations, although you made an effort to be friends with Mae, than you ever did with your master since she was the lesser evil, you're quite proud of yourself when your conversations with her turned from smalls nods and no's to simple phrases.

You didn't care that your master had two Padawans under his belt, that is until he taught her some things he never even told you about, every now and then he would drop hints about what he would teach you next, to prepare you, but this one was unknown to you, you thought, maybe, maybe he forgot to tell you since he was so engrossed in trying to make Mae catch up to you, but Mae didn't just catch up to you, she had already passed way above you, while your stuck on the pedestal she was weeks ago.

"Something on your mind, little bee?" That nickname, he never once gave an explanation on why he calls you that. "No, uh, nothing.. master"

You focus on his muscles grinding the stone bowl.

"I don't think that's nothing"

"I'm fine, really." You bite the inside of your cheeks. "Hm"

You blink, fiddling with the hem of your robes, you let a few seconds pass before speaking up.

"Why.. why does Mae need it?" He halted his movements, and right then and there you almost regretted asking, almost. "She's having nightmares"

He resumed his cooking, although his brief answer didn't provide you with anything, so what? You were having nightmares once too, and he told you to suck it up.

And as if he read your mind, which he did. "I don't want it to hinder her performance, we don't want any distractions during this time of her training."

What about my training? You wanted to yell at him, what about me? Why can't you make me one of your anti-nightmare potions too?

You could only clench your fists, making sure he doesn't hear some of your thoughts, which is hard considering he didn't teach you to, only Mae, along with healing your body by using the force, all her, and your left in the dust.

Your master said using negative emotions is the best fuel for people like them. Them. He told you, him and Mae obvi, you're nowhere near the equation, like an addition symbol in a multiplication question, makes no sense right? Because you make no sense being there when he clearly prioritizes Mae.

"—are you still listening?"

"I, huh," your eyes flutter up to him, frowning when he says nothing but look at you. A few seconds pass with only the both of you staring each other down, I mean, him staring you down with his creepy mask, he suddenly lets go of the pestle, the tool colliding with the mortar loudly.

He was now towering over you, and you realize then how big he was compared to you, it's like a dwarf next to a willow tree. (Guys no matter how big you think you are, Qimir is always bigger✋)

"I can't hear you, but I feel you" oh fuck, you forgot about that. "What is this plaguing your mind?"

Before you could answer, Mae comes running.

"You're back" He focuses on her, you let out a deep breath, for once your relieved Mae came in just a nick of time. "The ship's ready, master"

"Good, let's go" he grabs his robe from behind you. "Finish the potion before we come back"

"Whe, where are you guys going?"

"Nothing of importance, now go." He gestures to the stone bowl, his menacing helmet buzzing in your ears. "Yes, master.."

"Good girl." you couldn't hear his last few mumbles, only registering everything when they left the cave, leaving you alone.

-

You decided that you're gonna make an anti-nightmare potion for yourself too, because why does only Mae get it when you can make one in case you get nightmares?

And the best place to buy ingredients was with the best apothecary in town.

"Qimir?" You knock on the door. "I need to buy things for him, are you there?"

No answer.

"Hellooo?"

You pouted and turned around, now everyone's busy when you're not, you wanted to wait for a few more seconds but people might think you're crazy for trying to buy from an abandoned pharmacy, your master told you Qimir was there anytime you needed something to use for missions, but now that you don't go to missions, you love to annoy the clumsy pharmacy owner.

"Hey, wait!"

You tried to stop the smile creeping to your face when you hear the door bust open.

"I'm here!" He yelled, you turned around and waved, a big smile covering your face. "What took you so long?"

"What do you mean?" He playfully shrugged. "Been here since forever"

You felt more comfortable with him, you don't have to have to tiptoe around him unlike with the other, you liked to tease him about not taking a bath and for looking like a ragged hobo.

"What are you doing here though?" His eyebrows furrowed as you skip to him, you gave him a warm smile once again before making your way inside. "I need some things for him."

He frowned.

"Things? He didn't tell me he needed anything when they passed here."

"Well he told me, so go fetch it for me, servant" you chuckle and hit him on the bicep, he fakes a cry before hesitating to open the shelves.

"Here's the list of his majesty needs"

"His majesty?" He laughs, you just love making him laugh, maybe it's just you, or maybe you're just alone, but if there's anyone in the world you're going to survive an apocalypse with, it's Qimir.

"Uh huh, he keeps barking orders, finish this, finish that before we get home nyeh nyeh nyeh"

He chuckles once again. "Are you sure about telling me that? I might just snitch and get a promotion."

You feign an insulted look. "You don't dare"

"Oh but I do"

You both sat there laughing, forgetting about what you were here for. You clutch your tummy and struggle to inhale air.

"I can't— stop—" you burst out laughing once again, your face heating up, the tears in your eyes now brimming full.

"No no don't die on me" He jokes, you can see him staring, you wanted to look at him like that, shameless, but you can't stand looking at him for more than 3 seconds without blushing.

"Really?" He mumbles, but you heard him, clear as day. "What?"

"I, I mean, really h-huh? You can't stop laughing?" He waved both his hands in the air.

"You weirdo"

"Oh so now I'm the weirdo?"

"Uh huh"

"Since when?!"

"Since we met"

"Says the person who keeps barging in my shop"

"You like it though right?" You look up at him expectantly. "Like w-what?"

You gesture with your hands. "This?"

"This what?"

"You're always alone here, you must be grateful that I always visit."

"Yeah, always"

"What does that mean!" You put your hands on your waist. "It means you're always here, so you're like an everyday occurance by now"

You roll your eyes as he finishes up the list.

"Here's the last one—" you frown as he pauses. "What?"

"Isn't this," he picks up the list again. "It's for.."

You gulp, your fingers fumble with the wooden seat.

"N-no, no, it's not" you avert your eyes from him, the floor looking a little more interesting today.

"It's for nightmares isn't it?"

"I don't know, he only gave the list, nothing else."

"It is for nightmares, why do you need these?"

"I don't know, it's not for me." You clench your fists. "If it was for him he'd tell me himself"

Your eyes try to find something, anything, to tell him.

"I think it's for Mae okay? Maybe, maybe she's having nightmares and, and maybe he doesn't want it to distract her.."

"But I al—" he pauses, his jaw flexing. "I already gave him these."

His eyes narrow on you, like a deer in the headlights you could only look away.

"Tell me?" His soft voice lures you to him. "Are you having them?"

"No.." you sigh, do you tell him you're making the potion out of spite for your master? For making one for Mae and not for you, ugh it all sounds childish now, before you left you had a plan, and now you look like a child caught.

"Just—" you let out a deep breath. "Give it, and I'll be on my way"

He stares at you for a moment, before placing everything in a small pouch. You thanked him and left the credits on the table before hurriedly leaving, you could still feel his stare at the back of your head.

[writermani4c]

HeadCanon Qimir x Reader

GIF por goodsirs

Notas: O que eu tenho a dizer sobre isso é que... Na verdade, não tenho o que dizer! Eu só parei para assistir The Acolyte e Manny Jacinto tomou meus pensamentos completamente, ele comeu qualquer traço de sanidade em mim, então eu busquei fanfics sobre seu personagem e percebi que não haviam tantas quanto deveriam. Aqui está minha contribuição!

Avisos: Conteúdo sexual, manipulação e um relacionamento tóxico. Nada extremamente gráfico, apenas citações breves.

Qimir não estava procurando por algo quando te encontrou. No início, ele não tinha grandes ideais sobre ter um discípulo ou convicções verdadeiras além do fato inegável de que não se curvaria a uma falsa noção de paz. Não há paz… Não onde você não está;

Ele é divertido ao seu lado, até mesmo meio bobo. Ele te faz pensar que é um homem inofensivo, fazendo o que pode para sobreviver pelo preço certo, e isso acaba aproximando vocês, porque você também está apenas tentando sobreviver;

Qimir te achou uma aquisição admirável. Você é valente, pelo que ele pode ver. Você bate algumas carteiras aqui e ali, vende partes roubadas de naves ou armas, você praticamente se criou neste mundo hostil e há algo a ser admirado nisso, porque contra todas as possibilidades você não se deixou quebrar facilmente;

Qimir te conquistou em uma noite bêbados olhando as estrelas em uma laje em Coruscant. Algum bar nas proximidades estava tocando música alta e você estava feliz o bastante para se levantar, arriscando alguns passos descoordenados, com suas mãos acima da cabeça de modo distraído. Porra, ele podia dizer — não, naquele momento ele seria capaz de jurar — que você nasceu para ele. 

— Parece que você tem dois pés esquerdos — brincou o homem, levando o gargalo de uma garrafa de bebida artesanal do mercado de pulgas pelo qual vocês dois estavam vendendo alguns itens de naves velhas à boca. Não era da melhor qualidade, mas servia para seu propósito principal que era deixá-los embriagados, principalmente você. — Kriff, você é tão ruim nisso! 

Mas os olhos dele estavam na forma como você mexia sua cintura, como se ele não estivesse a uma curta distância, admirando seu contorno contra aquela lua grande e brilhante que te fazia cintilar. Você era um anjo e uma perdição ao mesmo tempo. Ele demorou muito enquanto desenhava seu corpo com os olhos.

Vocês estavam nessa a algum tempo, fingindo que não estavam fazendo algo perigoso, brincando com fogo enquanto trocavam olhares sorrateiros e toques maldosos disfarçados de casualidade. Cada vez que ele passava por você, precisava tocar sua cintura com ambas as mãos fingindo não querer esbarrar no seu corpo, mas ele demorava e você percebia, os dedos grossos e calejados apertando sua cintura em reconhecimento. Você nunca reclamou e, às vezes, também retribuía na mesma moeda ou com uma ousadia maior de tirar a franja escura do rosto dele, com os dedos roçando pelo rosto dele. 

Você o queria. Ele te queria. Mas aquela era uma dança tão angustiante quanto viciante, vocês queriam chegar ao ato final, mas não conseguiam parar com o que faziam porque também havia certo prazer nisso.

Foi irônico que aquela dinâmica tenha acabado em uma dança literal. Você virou o rosto para ele, as sobrancelhas carregando uma malícia brincalhona e inocente, tateando um caminho que nem podia enxergar quando disse:

— Então me ensine, se você é tão habilidoso. 

O que você estava pensando quando disse isso? Que ele iria se acovardar? Bom, certamente aquela parecia a atitude que o seu amigo e companheiro brincalhão e atrapalhado teria. Sim, ele teria rido e zombado um pouco mais de você, ou talvez teria mostrado habilidades ainda piores do que as suas. Mas o quanto você conhece este homem?

Ele se levantou, surpreendentemente no controle de seu próprio equilíbrio, e se aproximou de você bem devagar. Ele se movia como se estivesse pronto para te caçar e você percebeu, se encolhendo enquanto parava com seus movimentos atrapalhados, você o esperou vir te pegar. Era o tipo de coisa que mexia com a cabeça dele, que o deixava insano. 

Qimir te puxou para os braços dele, passando o braço pela sua cintura e você não foi nada menos do que dócil, olhando em sua direção com aqueles olhos grandes e surpresos. Você vivia para brincar com o fogo e se chocar ao se queimar. 

— O que foi? — Ele brincou, se movendo lentamente enquanto te trazia consigo. — Está dando para trás agora? 

— Não! 

O desespero em sua voz veio seguido de um aperto no braço dele, grudando seus corpos com uma teimosia feroz. 

— Muito bem. — Ele sorriu na sua direção.

Seus olhos estavam no rosto dele, nos olhos dele, descendo por seu nariz e gradativamente chegando à sua boca. Tão de perto, com os rostos praticamente colados, não havia como negar toda vez que você engolia em seco ou respirava fundo, agindo como um ratinho assustado enquanto ele girava com você entre os braços, ou te levantava apenas por diversão. 

Você não estava mais resistindo e ele estava pronto para entregar os pontos quando aproximou o rosto do seu, testando sua reação quando roçou o nariz contra o seu, as respirações esbarrando uma na outra em um ritmo de automático, mas nem perto do natural. Suas unhas estavam praticamente cravadas contra os bíceps dele, mas, àquela altura, você parecia não ter percebido ainda o quanto seu desespero era aparente. 

— É impressão minha — brincou, encostando a testa na sua com um meio sorriso traiçoeiro no rosto. — Ou você está me olhando como alguém que quer receber um beijo? 

Seu primeiro impulso foi agir como o pestinha que sempre foi, mesmo que estivesse muito claro, praticamente em todos os cantos da sua mente, que você estava muito longe de voltar a borda daquele companheirismo estranho naquele momento. 

— Parece que você quer me beijar.

— Ah, então estamos falando às claras agora? — Ele apertou sua cintura, te trazendo tão para perto que seus peitos foram esmagados contra os dele. — Sim, o pensamento me passou pela cabeça uma ou duas vezes. O que faremos sobre isso?

Você o agarrou pelo rosto, com os dedos emaranhados entre os cabelos escuros e macios, apertando os lábios contra os dele como se estivesse se libertando de tudo que vinha prendendo há muito tempo. Ele não conseguiu te conter, ou quis fazer isso, te deixando ter tudo o que queria enquanto enrolava a língua contra a dele, mordendo os lábios dele com uma fome assassina. Ele ficou de joelhos por você naquela noite, real e metaforicamente. Entenda como quiser!

Às coisas mudaram um pouco entre vocês depois disso. Vocês ainda eram companheiros de fuga, indo onde o dinheiro estivesse, mas também estavam abertos à carícias como Qimir te trazendo para dormir próximo dele, com a cabeça no peito dele e passando os dedos pela raiz do seu cabelo.

Fun fact: Ele começa a te tratar como um pet por isso! Quando os dedos dele estão no seu cabelo, você amolece como sorvete no sol e ele adora te provocar por isso, não importa o quanto você faça cara feia e ameace chutar as bolas dele. As coisas são como elas são ;)

Dark!Qimir

Eu te fiz imaginar que seu relacionamento com ele são apenas flores? Ah, me desculpe!

Você não sabe quase nada sobre ele e tudo o que sabe é mentira ou uma verdade parcial. Você não sabe o nome dele ou de onde veio, como cresceu, quem são seus pais, o que ele queria ser quando criança… Ele é um completo mistério charmoso e traiçoeiro;

Em compensação, é melhor que não existam segredos seus neste relacionamento.

Esse homem quer saber tudo o que há para saber sobre você. O que você não diz, ele descobrirá aos seus próprios métodos. Mas, veja bem, é melhor quando você fala por vontade própria… Ele gosta mais quando você conta as coisas, o faz pensar que você confia nele e a confiança é muito importante para ele, assim como a sua vulnerabilidade;

Você vai começar a reparar nas habilidades dele, mas ele vai mentir sobre isso o quanto puder. Não é ideal que você saiba ainda. Ele não está mentindo para você, apenas cuidando de você e te deixando segura. Ele se importa muito com você!

Este homem é ciumento! Mais do que o comum… De forma nada saudável. Eu não imagino que hajam muitas pessoas ao seu redor, por causa do seu estilo de vida, mas se houver qualquer velho conhecido ou alguma amiga que você não vê há muito tempo, ele vai se sentir incomodado, como se essa pessoa estivesse tentando roubar você dele. É racional? Não, mas é como seu homem é!

Quando você finalmente ligar os pontos sobre as habilidades Sith dele, e não houver mais para onde correr, ele vai te fazer acreditar que, na verdade, ele está dividindo esse segredo com você. 

— O que é isso? Essa coisa que você faz? — Ele não gosta da forma como você fala, mas é reconfortante que você tenha parado de tentar levantar a voz. Você só quer entender, ele sabe, mas ainda é irritante e ele precisava se manter calmo porque não queria te machucar. — Você é como um Jedi?

— Não. 

— Mas tem poderes como os deles.

— Não são os poderes que fazem um Jedi. — Ele te olhou com paciência, e claro. Você foi uma criança solitária perdida no espaço, recolhendo moedas aqui e ali, tudo o que você sabia sobre a Força era o que diziam para você: Não arrume muitos problemas e fique abaixo do radar, então não terá problemas com um Jedi. — Um Jedi é como um dogma, uma série de regras que fazem alguém se sentir altruísta por usar suas habilidades em nome de um código. É uma mentira, ou ainda pior do que isso. 

— Então o que você é?

Você se sentou na cama estreita de uma estalagem que vocês vem dividindo enquanto esperam ser seguro para escapar de Tatooine. Ele  segura as suas mãos entre as dele, olhando nos seus olhos enquanto se ajoelha para ficar na altura do seu rosto.

Você relaxa. Você quer confiar nele. Ele é tudo o que você tem.

— Eu sou seu. — Ele sorriu enquanto você revirava os olhos, mas não resistiu e também sorriu para ele. — E eu não acredito em qualquer coisa que não seja você ou eu, o que eu faria para te manter em segurança. Você me pertence até os ossos. Eu te pertenço também. 

Mas ele também era um Sith e você não entendia muito sobre isso até aquele momento.

Agora que você sabe sobre ele, você é uma parte importante disso. Você está sob a proteção dele, mas isso tem um preço: a sua lealdade está sempre sendo testada.

Ele vai tomar cuidado, mas sua mente não é mais totalmente sua. Nada que vá te machucar, ele também não quer que você se sinta acuada ou caçada (não daquele jeito), mas você é a única pessoa que ainda não o traiu. 

Às vezes, ele quer apenas relaxar os ombros e confiar cegamente em você, porque você o faz sentir amado. Você passa os braços ao redor dele e jura que é apenas dele, ele pode dizer que não há um único pensamento na sua cabeça que não seja devoto. Você vê o melhor e o pior dele e ainda lhe dá amor. Você é o anjo da vida dele.

E não há nada que ele não faria por você, não há limites que ele não cruzaria pela sua segurança ou felicidade; mundos arderiam para que você estivesse segura, feliz e em total plenitude. Este homem é um caso perdido quando se trata de você e eu tenho pena de qualquer um que cruze o caminho de vocês com más intenções. 

Ele vai te treinar para lutar com um sabre, apenas para uma emergência, mas vai cuidar para que você nunca precise usá-lo. 

Só que, às vezes, o lado ruim dele vai levar a melhor. Às vezes, a paranóia vai deixá-lo distante e inseguro. Até onde ele realmente pode confiar em você? 

Se você sequer pensar em trair a confiança dele, ele te fará um exemplo. Se ele foi capaz de acabar com você, que é o mundo, o Sol e as estrelas dele, o que ele não faria com seus inimigos?

Kink!Qimir

Esse homem tem uma fixação em estar entre as suas pernas. Não apenas de um modo sexual, ele gosta de deitar entre as suas pernas e sentir seus dedos contra os cabelos dele, também vai se colocar entre elas quando você estiver sobre sentado(a) alguma superfície mais alta com as coxas meio afastadas. Então apenas saiba que ele gosta das suas pernas ao redor dele em qualquer sentido, é lá que ele quer estar.

Ele também adora sua barriga. Não importa se você tem um abdômen plano ou algumas dobrinhas, ele gosta de qualquer forma, porque é tão quentinho e ele quer esfregar o rosto contra a sua pele antes de adormecer sobre você (e isso o deixará duro como pedra, mas nem sempre ele fará algo sobre isso).

Se você quiser, ele quer.

Acho que esse homem gosta de sexo, não importa o que você queira no momento. Dependendo a ocasião, acho que ele seria generoso e te comeria exatamente do jeito que você quer: lento e apaixonado? Ele vai demorar em todos os pontos que você sente prazer, vai te chupar até que você esteja tremendo e tentando se afastar dele por estar muito sensível, beijar todo o seu corpo até que você se sinta mais do que um deus. Mas se você quer que ele seja rude, então ele será. Ele vai te foder até que você não aguente mais e vai se certificar de só parar quando você estiver no limite, porque ele não fode apenas o seu corpo, mas a sua mente também.

Sabe como a Força pode ser usada de forma a ser sentida pelos outros como uma mão invisível ou um impulso vindo do nada? Ele vai fazer isso com você (às vezes sem perguntar, mas, claro, vocês vão conversar sobre isso e ele se importa que você goste do que estão fazendo). 

Ele vai estar te fodendo incansávelmente e você sentirá mãos te prendendo pelos braços e pernas, ao mesmo tempo que apertam seu pescoço apenas o suficiente para que você sinta respire com um pouco mais de dificuldade enquanto aquela pressão, antes só no seu baixo ventre, suba para sua cabeça também. 

Ele também vai usar a Força para dupla penetração… O que? O pensamento não te ocorreu até agora? Bom, ele esteve fantasiando secretamente com isso por um bom tempo. Ele quer poder te assistir chorar com o pau enterrado em você, mas não vai te dividir com ninguém — NUNCA! —, então veja que benção poder usar seu poder para se sentar confortavelmente, estimulando o próprio pau enquanto te assiste ser fodido por uma força invisível. 

— Isso é bom, meu amor? — Ele apenas sorri na sua direção.

Ele te fez se curvar diante um balcão, ou uma mesa, qualquer coisa que seja. Sua perna esquerda está apoiada na mesma superfície e ele vê sua excitação escorrer de forma vergonhosa por entre suas pernas nuas. É um show que ele não pode desviar os olhos, sentindo a boca salivar por um gostinho daquilo, apenas pela necessidade passar a língua por suas coxas molhadas e te provar. 

Mas, se ele chegasse mais perto do que aquilo, veria você sendo aberto(a) por um pau invisível (ou dedos… Não sei se você curte isso, mas talvez uma mão inteira? O que você quiser, ele fará), entrando e saindo de você, te fazendo se contrair como se estivesse ordenhando aquele vazio. Ele perderia o controle. 

Não há nada que ele goste mais do que olhar para você e assistir, em completo deleite, o próprio pau desaparecendo dentro de você. Poder assistir a experiência do lado de fora o teria destruído. Então ele apenas vê o seu rosto choroso, os cílios molhados de lágrimas que se acumulam e escorrem pelas suas bochechas trêmulas. Sua boca treme, ele quase pensa que você vai usar sua palavra de segurança, mas você não faz. Não há nada na sua mente além do quanto você quer mais, mesmo sentindo que não aguenta. Você quer continuar e ficar daquele jeito por dias, sendo esticado e arrasado enquanto é obrigado a ficar naquela posição com a bunda empinada e sua intimidade exposta, mas seu corpo inteiro dói. 

— Meu amor! — Ele chama sua atenção com um sorriso brincalhão, mas aperta o próprio pau e suspira alto. Ele não quer gozar ainda, não enquanto ele não atingiu o máximo que pode de você, quando você começa a babar e murmurar como uma criatura quebrada. — Como eu vou te agradar se você não falar comigo? Se não é bom, então eu deveria parar. 

 — É bom! É tão bom! Não pare, por favor, não pare… Não vou te perdoar se parar. Kriff, não vou te perdoar!

Ele ri e brinca com você, fingindo que vai parar, diminuindo a velocidade. Às vezes tira o pau completamente de você só para te fazer chorar de verdade, como se ele estivesse te torturando com ferro em brasa, você se contorce inutilmente enquanto ele te mantém naquela posição e diz que fará qualquer coisa se ele te der mais um orgasmo. 

Ele te acha tão adorável, se levantando para tocar seu rosto suado e choroso. Ele tira seu cabelo do rosto e aproxima o pau da sua boca. 

— Seja bom para mim e eu te retribuo duas vezes mais. — Ele esfregou o polegar na sua bochecha. — Você conhece as regras. 

Você sequer pensa antes de abrir a boca e tentar alcançar o pau dele, fazendo-o rir.

O que eu posso dizer é que ele gosta muito de te subjugar. 

Ele não se importa se você tem um pênis ou uma vagina, qualquer um dos dois pertence a ele agora. Acho que ele é o tipo de amante que REALMENTE precisa sentir que tem posse de você para conseguir sentir prazer, ele precisa ser mau com você na mesma medida que precisa ser bom, como se estivesse te disciplinando e te recompensando em seguida. 

Ele provavelmente gosta da ideia de gozar dentro, mas ele não vai te engravidar. Não sem que vocês dois estejam muito, muito certos sobre isso. Ele gosta tanto de você que não te dividir nem com os filhos dele, então vocês não pensam em tê-los… E, mesmo se mudarem de ideia, há outras crianças por aí precisando de pais (ou mestres), certo? 

Às vezes, ele não vai tirar toda a roupa porque está com pressa. Ele não tem nada contra rapidinhas, mesmo que a maioria se transforme em uma sessão bem longa.

Alguns pensamentos de gozar nos seus peitos ou no seu rosto também lhe ocorrem.

Uma coisa sobre ele é que, às vezes, em ocasiões especiais, ele pode te dar o controle. Não totalmente, sabe? Mas parcialmente. Se você quiser fodê-lo, ele vai deixar. 

Sexo não é sexo se você e ele não terminarem arrasados, então não espere gozar só uma vez.

Extras

Uma coisa curiosa é que ele fala dormindo, mas nada revelador. Na maioria das vezes ele diz o seu nome e sorri, provavelmente tendo um sonho muito bom envolvendo você. Mas pesadelos o fazem acordar alarmado e ele não vai descansar até ter certeza de que está tudo bem.

Ele gosta de exibir o quanto é forte para você. 

Ele já te carregou nos braços só por diversão, só para mostrar que ele podia. Sim, ele pode ser um idiota quando quer. 

Se você menstrua, ele provavelmente conhece seu ciclo melhor do que você (você pode ver isso como algo fofo… eu digo que ele está sendo controlador de novo) e está preparado caso o seu humor fique uma merda por causa dos hormônios. Não estou dizendo que ele é perfeito, apenas que ele vai tentar ser mais paciente. 

No seu aniversário, ele sempre faz algo especial. Não importa o que vai ser, tenha em mente que ele se esforçou muito (para preparar uma surpresa que você vá gostar e, principalmente, para não te contar, porque ele está muito orgulhoso de que fez um bom trabalho).

Depois de muito tempo como andarilhos, ele vai conseguir um espaço para vocês. Não muito grande, nem muito luxuoso, provavelmente em algum planeta de difícil acesso, mas vai ser o lugar de vocês. 

Se vocês brigam, ele não vai ser o primeiro a pedir desculpas.

Exceto se você for ainda mais teimoso e vocês passarem muitos dias sem se falarem, então ele vai dar um jeito de te forçar a voltar a falar com ele, mas não espere um “sinto muito, querido”... Pelo menos, não um que seja sincero. 

Ele vai demorar, mas vai te falar o aniversário dele e vocês vão poder comemorar juntos, embora ele odeie. Talvez tenha uma história ruim sobre isso ou ele apenas odeie estar ficando mais velho, mas ele vai gostar de saber que você se importa de encher balões e fazer um bolo para ele. 

Vocês não são um casal perfeito, mas acho que, definitivamente, estão na média. Vocês com certeza se amam e, depois de muitos anos juntos, não tem medo de admitir aquele sentimento.

[aniqua]

error: 0v3rr1d3 | yandere!qimir x cyborg!reader

✧content: 18+ mdni, f!reader, smut, angst, death, blood, character death, flashbacks, flashfowards, existentialism?, unreliable narrators and crazy epiphenies, drowning, osha going through the ringer, p in v, cockwarmth, blowing, creme pie, worshipping qimir, second fiddle feelings

✧note: it's been real fun to make qimir a loser, robot fucker.

✧word count: 6.2K

✧series masterlist

“You promised that we would go.” You’d spent the last thirty minutes pressing Qimir to explain the change in plan.

“That was before yesterday's incident,” Qimir sighed as he arranged boxes. The day prior to this exchange, Qimir spent his time in a sticky sweat as he ran through the city for some outside help. With you resting on his back, you were relegated to hearing his terrified breaths that were a result of your condition. It had chosen to be at its worst that day and although you spent the end of the day in a better condition, you didn't miss the way Qimir looked as you clugged onto his arm as he walked you home with a fixed hold on your hand that didn't even budge when you slept with him that night. 

“I'm better now,” you told him. "That was the first time that ever happened anyway," you defended with crossed arms.

“You hoping to go for a second time?” he asked sarcastically.

He was closing up the shop earlier than most days for the festivities that were to be indulged in that night. You looked on without your usual offer to help--not like he'd accept. The entire week ranged from uneventful to horrendous at its worst but the highlight of it for you was supposed to be to celebrate the planet’s two moons aligning like the planet did every year. Despite this, Qimir was giving you a last-minute rejection that you were refusing to stomach this time around.

“I’ll be fine,” you tried appealing to his unquenchable desire to nurture. “And if not, you'll take care of me like you always do. Hm?”

Qimir fought hard to ignore that he loved the way you spoke. It pleaded to the nights he spent thinking of every way he could make you better. He was fighting to keep you a permanent painting in his home and refused to lose to simple battles like hereditary curses.

However, for all the pride he felt in his chest, Qimir set a box down and walked toward you. His hazy eyes gave you a once-over just as he took your tender face in his hands. He said, “I'm not taking that risk.”

Your frown deepened as you pulled your face out of his hands for the comfort of the cold air, “Why don’t you let me do anything?” He could see the way your brows upturned in vulnerability with your wet eyes to match as your pupils went wider. If he could, he would have taken you right then and there for how malleable you looked.

“I don't do it out of enjoyment. But I'll put your health first every time. Even above what I want," he was pretending to play the good guy like he wasn't a shut-in who would have stayed home during the festivities actually long before your time.

“And above me?” you challenged. 

“[Name],” he sighed.

“You’re cursing me to live like this,” you pressed him at his weak spot.

“Cursed?” he laughed bitterly to himself. He brought his hands to his hip as he gave you a stare that reminded you of the initiating stance of a predator. “I’ve done everything to make sure you even live past the next moon alignment--”

“And if I have to live like this then I'd rather be dead,” you spoke with unwavering declaration. Months of quietly obliging with the occasional treat to keep you at bay only made your desertification more apparent to you.

"Careful," he murmured with a still face that was so unreadable. He backed you into the counter just to further cage you with both of his arms on both sides. You looked up at him as you pressed further into the counter to avoid meeting his chest. The edge of the counter he held onto bent at his grip as you spent most of your time grasping at fleeting courage.

“It's not like you get a say in that either," he told you. If you were so struck by the painful beauty of his face at such an odd time, you would have let out a meager cry in surrender.

After getting his fill, Qimir stepped back from you to retreat upstairs. It was expected that you’d spend the rest of your time downstairs to blow off steam before returning to the living room begrudgingly for dinner. Qimir hadn’t exactly made it to the front door of your home before he remembered that he needed to lower the shutters over the shop for this special weekend in case some got too excited. It was when he returned to the ground floor that he no longer saw you there. You disappeared as if he never met you, to begin with.

He called your name and watched his voice echo in real-time. That's when he knew he was alone. Once his call bounced back he nearly lept over the counter and went sprinting out the door.

By the time he'd burst through the doors and the shop's bell jingled, you already had a head start to the streets as you tried making it to the fairie. Two tickets weighed your bag down as you cut through the roads with as much force as you could among those who were already starting festivities. The way the shops were decorated with ribbons and flags would have been beautiful if you couldn’t hear the growing distant call of your name in the distance.

As you carried on fighting you picked up your pace hoping that a miracle would come through before Qimir would catch up to you but your prayer wasn’t even sent before you felt your strength waning until the wind blew out your candle and had the ground swallow you. You should have known better than to exert so much after being given only a day of recovery but you assumed that your passion would make up for your health. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough because you went collapsing like the first drop of truth in the middle of the street. You could hear Qimir calling your name and the low hum of the crowd in surprise.

A week passed where you didn't speak to Qimir and you thought it would help in the tension brewing but the distance felt treacherous. Every day that passed leading up to the seventh day would be you waking up on the outskirts of the planet in a cabin that once belonged to him but was passed down to his acolyte. The last thing he said to you as he passed you over to Osha before his journey to find a better solution for your illness was he thought it would suit you better to behave. Instead of a private farewell that should have been exchanged kisses, the journey to the cabin was silent. 

Far from it was Osha to question her master but it didn’t help how little in detail she was given before he appeared on her doorstep asking her to watch over you. She was given half of the truth while you were given the whole lie that Osha would sooner drag you back to the cabin before you'd make it past a few trees. 

Before your arrival, she chose to spend her time training until their next operation but instead of a new Jedi to target, Osha was assigned to babysitter while being left entirely in the dark. Still, she trusted Qimir when he said to guard you with her life as he went off.

From your perspective, the specifities of what Osha was told were unclear but you weren’t willing to try to pry when your last act of disobedience landed you concession from meeting the ground and unwanted attention that could have ended with the wrong people asking the right questions. So, in your time of vacationing–you told yourself this to lighten the mood–you didn’t even ask about Qimir until a few days after a week had come and he still hadn’t returned for you. This concerned you so you went running your mouth to Osha since it was all you could do to keep yourself calm and not fear that he had finally abandoned you for an easier problem to fix.

“Have you heard from him?” you asked.

She shook your head. “I can still feel him," she admitted as she ate.

You didn't know each other well but you wanted to press further even if it meant her frustration. “Anything else?” you said. 

“Look, you’ve been asking me the same question for three days. He’ll be fine," she put her spoon down and looked up at you. "You’ve seen how he disappears for weeks just pop back up. It’s no different now."

You fiddled with your thumbs as you said. “So this is normal?” You didn't have the slightest clue as to what she meant.

“What," she laughed in disbelief "Qimir hasn’t fucked off for weeks to you?"

If you had any type of distance from him, you would have laughed with her but you hadn’t so you said the truth.

“No,” you confessed. “He’s never gone more than an afternoon away,” you said. “Which is why I’m so nervous because that last time he came back he didn't look good.”

That admission had Osha questioning how well you truly knew him.

“What took you so long?” Osha asked Qimir as he held onto his bag.

“I’m back now,” was all he was going to say but the look Osha gave him made him feel stupid. “Came across some trouble on the way back so I had to stall. I’d hate for anyone to be following me to lead them to here.”

“So you stole that," she stated the obvious while nodding toward his bag that looked packed with some things that were none of her business. 

"It doesn't matter--"

Osha wasn't in the mood to banter as they stood a few paces from the cabin in the dead of night. "You let three weeks go by for her. It felt like she was gonna start chewing glass if you didn't show up tonight,” she said,

“Nothing, she’s not used to,” he said as he rifled through his bag to straighten a few things out. Maybe that's why he didn't realize that he and Osha were talking about two different things.

“So she’s home a lot huh,” she met him where he was in the conversation. “Doesn’t that bother you?”

“It keeps her safe.”

“From you?”

Qimir swallowed.

“Whatever happened to no romance to keep this exact thing from happening,” she threw the rule back in her master's face while gesturing at his lover fast asleep in the cabin. “You bring danger to your doorstep every time you come back home so there's no point in keeping her there?” If only she knew the other half of the problem to chastise him for that as well.

Osha watched him with judgemental eyes with the complete silence in between them. Leave it to her to be the one to hold a mirror up to Qimir as he would conceive of a flawed plan. She was ready to ask him if it was worth it. Interrogate him about having you put your life in a strange form of witness protection all in the name of a lonely man who couldn't just let a bird go. That was until some was rustling nearby. The kind of twig snap that didn’t come from a small animal but a clumsy vulture. Osha and Qimir both turned their heads to the sound as they already had a grasp on their lightsabers. They waited with held breaths in the quiet night.

Even though both moons illuminated the forest, something felt off with the way the area had gone motionless. Qimir would have left the idea alone if you weren’t inside. 

The hum of a lightsaber that wasn't theirs was the warning shot that set everything into motion. They almost didn't see it coming but were even more surprised to find seven Jedi that had been tailing him since they got the first tip-off of his movement when he'd jumped from another planet with a fortune's worth of medicines and no clear explanation.

When you woke up, at the sound of a cry, you couldn’t chalk up the thud coming from the outside to the result of an interesting passerby.

So you stirred out of your comfort zone and started for the exit of the cabin when you said Osha's name and she didn't respond. She was a late sleeper. 

As you came out of your sleep your fresh ears were finally registering the growing sound of a fight. Your hands carefully pushed the doors of the cabin that led you to a cold night. Although the stars and moon were the only things that were keeping the beyond from looking pitch black, it was still a horrifying sight to look into the abyss and see two red lightsabers spinning in self-defense.

When your eyes landed on Qimir for the first item in three weeks, your thoughts were interrupted as you got tunnel vision. He was fighting for his life in a dance between him and Osha against the Jedi. Yet all you could see was him as you burst through the cabin doors and went running after the only certainty you had even when this was the first time you’d ever seen him use the force.

“Qimir!” You cried. You threw all the arguments that you had with him aside and went racing with nothing but your heart in your hands.

Qimir looked up first as he saw you coming down from the hill. “Go!” he said.

It was rare to see him look so scared and even rarer to be the result of anyone but you so you stuttered in your tracks. Your hesitance was caught who was determined to make sure no one could testify to them breaking their mantra of never attacking first. As he immediately locked eyes with you, you started for the other way hoping to at least lighten the load of attacks on Osha and Qimir even if it was by one person.

You didn’t look back once as you went cutting into the woods like a shot call. Your feeble state lets an onslaught of rushing adrenaline fuel your heart enough for it to pump your system faster. The forest stood by and watched as you kept looking back in fear until you dove behind a fallen tree to catch your breath and adjust from the dizziness in your head. You knew you couldn’t run for long even high off of your need to fight.

It was hard to miss the sound of footsteps as they steadily grew until they felt close enough to be your own shadow. So you fisted a large rock in your hand enough to bleed and threw it as hard as you could in another direction. Just as the beast went chasing after his own tail you began blasting off in the other direction until you broke through a clearing that was the edge of the cliff.

It’s not something your mind registered in the darkness until you heard the sound of unrelenting water. You made the effort to stop but you were seconds too late as the dirt slid just enough to lose your footing and go diving through the air. Crashing into the rushing water felt nothing like liquid and more like solid ice. 

Your land was only cushioned by the rapid water that would have been your savior if it didn’t send you along with the river to hit every rock and broken log on your way downstream. It was siphoning off your adrenaline to leave you to fend for yourself. 

Your hands kept closing and opening as you tried to reach for something to stop the tornado. The tiring fight to find someway to steady yourself ended up with you carrying a belly full of water in a blind panic each time the water hit your face. This repeated as you were repeatedly baptized by waves until the water in your belly was enough to have you sinking to the bottom of the river.

When Qimir washed up on the shore onto the shore, he was choking on everything but the items at the bottom of the river and the dirt embedded into the water. You were right beside him as he shivered from the wind that made the water unbearably cold. However, you didn’t need to shiver to maintain your body heat since there were goosebumps rising from your skin as you layed motionless beside him. It wasn’t like you couldn’t feel the biting chill of that night. It was just that you didn’t have any strength left to go running after heat. 

At least that’s what you thought of it as, until you weren’t looking up at the night sky of the night but rather at the pitch back of your eyelids that were too heavy to open even as you fought for days to try. You existed in a state of in-between where your body was still but your mind was still active at times as it came and went like running water.

So you meandered in this state of being as the world moved on. 

Throughout the swift passage of time you stayed frozen as you could only listen to the voices of anger, guilt, and resentment give you a description of events through a tinted gaze that explained the past and present.

You were there against the shore of the rushing river and heard every cry of anguish as Qimir cut through bones and blood in the heat of his anger. The red screams of the attackers splattered against the bark, foliage, and rocks of their surroundings until all that was left were parts scattered across the woods like chicken feed. Osha looked on entirely stunned as she tried to resuscitate you. She saw in real time how her master had burned every lesson in dignified death he taught her in exchange for a punishment that was tenfold the crime.

For you, when the feeling of the ground was replaced by the cold surface of a healer's bed, you still refused to wake up. You heard the promises and threats he made as he went to every length he could to pull you back to the world of the living until you sank back under and remerged to him bringing you back home place to figure out what deal he had to make to bring you back to life. 

“I’ll be back in a couple of hours,” his voice was barely louder than the machine that kept track of the rhythm of your pulse. “Osha’s here.” You wanted to tell him to come back and stay with you since you liked the way he fixed your hair and played with your hands when he thought no one was there.

It was hard to tell the exact amount of days that passed without the rare clue you got from the conversations you overheard. You remained in the dark for most things but didn’t miss the inevitable march toward unshakable madness that Qimir experienced in your presumed absence.

You heard the apologies he gave you with promises to fix you until you memorized each promise like a blessed hymn. He found a permanent place in your room to reside until you would come to expect the sound of him rising and finally sleeping.

“Qimir,” Osha’s voice had come through from the upstage. “I think it’s time,” she said. If he said something, you didn’t hear it. “You’ve done your best during all these months but it’s time to consider the best option,” Osha told him.

“The best option is to bring her back,” he was unwavering in the way he spoke even if he sounded weak.

“How?” The silence that followed was loud enough to make it clear that he didn’t have the answer. “We must know when to move forward. Just like you taught me,” she said.

“Then move on.” He was stern. “Don’t let my dedication burden you,” he hissed. “You no longer need to be my acolyte.”

“Your dedication is making you driving you insane,” she punctuated each word as she tried to hide the crack of her voice. “She is practically dead but you’re throwing me aside–”

“Until her heart stops beating she is my responsibility!” It was no mistake how different things felt in your absence but it surprised you how clear he had made his decision. “I suggest you find yourself a new master.”

That’s how you replayed it all in your head. Years after your baptism and months after your crucifixion Qimir had finally married his two ideas into a solution that he was hoping to work. A wise man would never ask him how he did it since it wasn’t through his own hands but after mounting a few bodies and twisting a few arms, every failed part of you was replaced by pieces from the android parts he had collected. A task that blurred all ethics that only Qimir was willing to cross. All he waited for was the day you’d wake up. He let weeks pass by hoping that he’d find you sprung forth and lively. 

You were still partially droid which he didn’t understand so through the period of holding his breath and getting lost in the bottom of his bottle, you were coming through every single memory you had, especially of him, and processing them for analysis in the part of your brain that was connected to your past processor. You returned to every instance as human and every close encounter as android.

You had been given time to reflect on the incoming memories as they passed through you. And when you had come to believe was how ungrateful you were. To not see the unwavering love of Qimir even after he had been abandoned to build your future from scraps until you were nearly resurrected. It all would have gone well if you had not gone running to see what you had forgotten. Now that you had seen it, it was entirely understandable Qimir's aversion to it. You had crossed the river and drowned over and over again as your memories played on a loop like a punishment from purgatory. It wasn’t under your control as your system tried to learn and relearn how to escape death until it came to the conclusion that the best possible outcome would be to not only accept the love you were given but to understand it and reciprocate it in its totality.

“Osha! Osha!” Qimir called from her as he was being held back by the Jedi that were swarming his hideout in Kashyyyk.

His mistake was reaching out to Osha after so much time of silence thinking she’d help him get to the bottom of what was wrong with you this time. Desperate people find faith in the strangest places and he was no exception as he thought she, even with hesitance, would help him find out why he’d done everything right but you refused to power on like all those other times. 

Osha ignored his shouts as she looked up at you erected perfectly still enough to build a coffin around you. It felt wrong at first to appeal to the Jedi to apprehend and make an example of her old master but as months went on and she slowly ventured back to the light, a sickness wouldn’t leave as she felt that Qimir was likely still home jumping from healer to architect as he tried to bring you back like a lunatic. 

She hadn’t seen him in a year but it felt more like a decade as she saw how long his hair had gotten when he was seized. The smile he gave her when he thought they were all alone wasn’t devoid of years of stress but it had a slight familiarity to it that almost made her go back on the plan. If Qimir wasn’t so busy with everything that had to do with you, he probably would have picked up on the presence of others closing in on him from the shadows of the trees.

The once enthusiastic acolyte wasn’t there to see the multiple iterations of you as an android so she would never be a true believer in the miracle. Conceivably, she wouldn’t have led the Jedi to Qimir’s home if she knew. Yet, she didn’t and she likely never would. All Qimir had given her to work with when she returned was scattered and disassembled android parts with you decorated in new parts that only had their backstories told by roomers. To her, this was inhumane.

“How could you?” she turned and said to him as he violently thrashed against the restraints the Jedi gave him.

“Osha, don’t!” he could already see that she was preparing to reach for the panel that controlled your station to shut it off. There was some apparent hesitancy as his hands danced around the button that would lead to the computer to begin to power off and terminate all systems including itself.

“No! N-no! STOP!”

The cries of your lover were tormenting to even the creator of the anguish. The pain in his voice was so concentrated that it could not be ignored by any of those who were there to witness it. It was exactly the call to heaven that woke you up out of your processing and had you open your eyes for the first time since you had glitched so poorly that he took your battery away. In wide-eyed disbelief, Osha froze as she saw your eyes start to open and take in your surroundings. 

To you, she didn’t look much older but instead younger from her naivete of what she had brought herself into. You saw him make an effort to step back. From across the room, the two Jedi who held onto Qimir and the three who guarded the two were just as confused as to what they were witnessing. It wasn’t like machines hadn’t been brought together with flesh before but to see someone rise from what appeared to be death would give pause to anyone. Qimr above everyone else looked like he was staring into the many eyes of an angel for the first time in his life.

The atmosphere in the cave went motionless as you took your first step down from your chamber as a cyborg for the first time. By then, you had already come to a conclusion. With the wisdom of your humanity and the calculation of your machinery, you had decided everyone was a threat to your new goal. Your feet took another step forward to Osha so she said your name in disbelief. 

Before she had pushed out the last part to it, you took her blaster and put a hole through the heads of two Jedi without much effort from your self-defense protocol.

Your attacks sent everyone scrambling as you were already holding Osha at gunpoint by the time they realized that you were just as much of a threat as they thought Qimir was.

“Please,” you spoke only to Osha “tell them to leave and I will spare their lives and yours.” The cold, metal barrel made a circle indicating the target that was her temple. You didn’t have the heart to kill her but you wanted her to believe that you would. 

As much as Osha was already regretting not just returning to the shadows and never agreeing to work for the Jedi, this case was out of her hands the moment she went running to authority to get some sort of retribution on your behalf.

It didn’t matter though because the unexpected face-off between the remaining Jedi and a hostage gave Qimir the perfect window to steal a lightsaber and begin fighting against three opponents like he once taught Osha to do.

He twisted and landed a kick that slammed into a tree. While that one recovered, he held his own against two lightsabers. All the while, Osha was forced to watch the series of events that would lead her to run back into exile.

It was uncomfortably quick work he made out of the fight. With ease, he reminded his former acolyte about what she missed so much about being under his guidance. When the last body dropped you finally let go of Osha. 

“Osha,” Your still expression even raised suspicion in Qimir because of how ambiguous it was as you looked at her. “You are a dear friend.” You stepped forward. “But we should never cross paths again in your lifetime,” you said as you carefully placed her blaster in her shake hands. 

That’s when you turned Qimir. His pupils were blown as he watched you come closer until you took his hand. He was certain that he was dead until you brought his hand to your face and closed your eyes to feel him. 

The image before Osha was an unfair reward for her unwavering dedication up until that point. She’d put everything into venturing to the dark side and was betrayed by a heart that had found someone to beat for. She would have never guessed that her master was heaven-struck all those years ago but there was nothing she could have done about it even if she was given a vehicle to travel through time. Sure she had a new master but the realization that things were different still hurt the same.

The apologetic look that Qimir and you gave just as you reunited diluted her blood as she had to sit in the choice she made. There was nothing more or less to say as you left her surrounded by dead Jedi as the both of you disappeared like the origins of a folktale. 

She let out a scream at some point.

You looked out at the windows of the ship that Qimir managed to secure in the aftermath of your flying your planet. The wealthy smuggler who owed him a favor was the type to live on the ship she gifted. It was your new home now as you searched for another part of the galaxy to hide in until you were ready.

You walked into the control room with the tips of your hair wet from the humidity of the shower. The pitter-patter of your footsteps approached the ship pilot into the control area. He felt your hands slowly slide from his back to his shoulders. You wrapped your arms around his neck until you were resting on his neck while looking out at pools of stars and asteroids. This is how it was in a soothing simplicity.

When he turned around and placed you onto his lap, your upgrades readjusted when your heart picked up. You looked at him with the same wildness that was directly reflected the kind in his.

“Qimir,” you said as you played with his hair.

“Hm?” he was tolling picking between looking at your lashes curtaining your eyes or watching your lips say his name.

“I want,” you paused to get a good look at the face you missed seeing for too long.

He leaned forward in raw anticipation. It caused you to shift as you stayed in place on his lap. You don’t think he noticed how ardent his focus was. “What,” he swallowed. “What do you want?”

As you thought of how you should word your request, his patience dissipated as he chose to kiss feverishly you and pull you closer by your waist. His soft lips were in stark contrast to how roughly he took your lips.

“Let me,” you tried to speak between the moments he would catch his breath to kiss you further. “Be,” you said into his lips, “your acolyte.” 

He stopped to watch on in surprise as you played with the hem of his shirt like you hadn’t thrown him across the universe and back. As you were taking off his shirt he was still dazzled by your request.

Like an admirer of a painting, you placed your cold hands on his hot chest to commit the feeling of his skin to memory. Qimir heard his heart pop in his ears. Your hand continued to travel until you were able to find yourself in his pants “Please,” you implored as your hand pulled out his cock and your lips pouted in a plea.

It was unmistakable to you that he was heavens away from where you were as you spoke to him but you still continued to slip out of his lap to sit in between his legs as he remained seated. The way you looked up at him as you took your time to stroke his member made him moan not only for desire but from the sheer ecstasy of your presence. You opened your mouth and found a place at the tip of his cock. 

Your head gingerly traveled further down as you felt every vein until as much of him was in you. Qimir felt you suck as you pulled back and it was divine torture. With each bob of your head, you fondled his balls in one hand and stroked the rest of his member that you couldn’t take.

He threw his hand back as his hands seized the armrest of the seat. Each time your tongue circles the slit of his tip, a groan slipped out. His precome was dripping as he gradually got hard enough for it to feel painful. The noises you made as you blew him filled the control room all the while the leather of the armrest tore the cushion contents spilled out. You pulled back for a moment a brought a trail of saliva from his blooming tip to your pink tongue. Nevertheless, he thirstily eagerly guided your return to the back of your head to pick up speed from where you left off. 

His words were incoherent as you saw his legs shaking. It was evident that he was reaching his end when his locked eyes burst open as he was begging for air. He let out a heavy load into your mouth as you gaggled.

Ever the impatient man, Qimir was already bending you over in front of the window just as you were catching your breath. The robe you had secured around yourself after a shower already dropped to the floor as he lined himself up to your pussy and pushed himself into you with such consecrated desperation.

He crashed onto your back as he wrapped his arm around your waist to prove you weren't nothing but an apparition. For each time he pulled out and pushed back in, he stayed spilling sweet words into your hair. He was trying to take his time to savor the way your walls held onto him so tightly but it was nearly unthinkable by the seventh kiss. 

You felt him slapping in and out of you as your pitiful babbling could on grew in volume. Your processor was working to keep your pulse viable. The sounds of your ass beating against his wet balls were disorienting as you secured your hands onto his hold around your core for support.

“Teach--" You couldn't focus as your breasts bounced along with the rhythm. “Teach me.” Qimir could hear the hunger in your voice. You started pushing back harder so the tip of his member could faithfully bruise your cervix. 

Qimir lifted one of your legs and held it in place on the panel to angle himself better. The sound of you continuously saying “please” for so many reasons pushed him to drill you stronger as come trickled down your legs before he had even climaxed for the second time.

“Why?” he asked as he held your face up by holding onto your throat. It wasn’t a challenge but rather a question as to why you wished to go running into this one risk.

You couldn’t answer him as your knees were becoming wobbly from the stimulation until he had to hold you up himself to keep you satisfied.

“Come on,” he encouraged. “Stay with me a little longer.” He said as he kept pounding into you. You could feel the warmth running from your hot head journey down your body and striking every foreign part of you with lightning. You poured over him as you mewled. Your ending came like a waterfall as your juices further lubricated his thrusts to keep him chasing euphoria. By then you were completely spent, calibrating, and just holding onto him to relish the sounds of his gasps.

Once he came inside of you and let his sticky shot leak out through the in-between of the skin of his cock and your folds, you turned around to see him. In the fervor of the aftermath, you pulled into him, with your bare breasts against his chest.

“Give me a chance,” was all you told him with your head against his chest. You wanted to collapse no matter how well-adjusted you were as he kept cockwarming but he held onto you and wiped your sweaty face.

“You don’t need that.” Qimir had a slight blush on his face as he was catching his breath along with you. He intertwined your hand with his and was spiraling up to the cosmos. “I’ve already given it to you. Let me show you the power of two destined souls,” he said.

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[aniquasmasterlists]

error: b3n3v013nt | yandere!qimir x droid!reader

✧content: 18+ mdni, f!reader, smut, angst, overstim, p in v, mean qimir, dacryphilia, pathetic dom qimir, mentions of character death, edging, punishment, condescension, toxic relationship, reader and the waterworks

✧word count: 4.8K

[read more]

[yandere-wishes]

Probably the closest thing I've ever gotten to "spicy"

RIP QIMIR!! I'll miss u 😭💋😭💋

⋆.˚ 𝔻𝕒𝕣𝕜 𝕍𝕒𝕔𝕒𝕪 ⋆.˚

𐙚Yandere! Qimir X Reader

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ He steals you in summer. Castaway on a planet with no name. But the way his eyes shine under the hot sun has your heart beating out of your chest.

⁀➷ Does this count as "That's that me, espresso"?

🪐 Yandere behavior, obsessive tendencies, Stockholm syndrome, blood, and gore.

⁺₊𝄞₊⁺ Espresso by Sabrina Carpender

Dark Vacay by CAS

The heat licks at your neck dangerously. The scathing red glow cleaves through flesh, through bone.

Warm, warm, warm.

The sort of swelter befitting rampant volcanos and rebirthing suns.  

The man, no, the Sith has you pinned to his chest. His force,a dark pulsating thing, coiling through your body, keeping you rooted.

Sol's voice echoes through the canopy. Sending ripples through the blood-matted forest floor. "Release her." His saber is drawn, pointed.

Blue vs red.

Hot vs cold.

"Give me the relic." The voice lacks emotion, empathy. It demands, it takes. There is no room for formalities here, no chivalry you've long believed in. This monster deals only in dark. Taking and taking. "And I won't hurt her".

You try to push him away, to fight. Your force against his, clawing at the dark ether around you, hunting for an aperture, a splinter anything to infiltrate. But he is resilient, strong the way most volcanos are.

Impenetrable.

You moan against the tightening noose. He demands and you must obey. Such a dark thing can even make your master bow, make him give up the ancient blood-red relic. "You have your relic, now release my pupil." Behind you the monster chuckles, an airy noise overflowing with malice, "I said I wouldn't hurt her, not that I'd give her back."

The lights dull. Neon fading into a fuzzy mess of colors too tangled to decipher. Voices weave bending to the blaring buzz echoing from within. The world grows darker, you try to clutch onto something, anything. The cool colors of saber light, the soothing tone of your master's voice. The monster's dark cadence. But it's no use, the darkness prevails, pulling you under its crushing waves, burying you in a sea of nihil.

The world is dim upon resurgence. The air tastes of salt, fresh and dry upon the throat. The earth you lay in is warm, not like the smoldering heat of a bloodborne saber, but the warmth you imagine a mother's embrace to hold. Soft in every way that counts.

The place is alien and abandoned. No family, no monsters. Just rock upon rock and makeshift furniture to further the illusion of a makeshift home. The pounding upon your temples has yet to cease, you wonder if the outlines of a bruise have yet to bloom.

Slowly, you emerge from the cocoon of worn blankets. Bare feet scraping across the jagged floor. You feel the monster's presence linger, his essence strong within this place. You remember the dragon dens you used to read about in fairy tales. The gold-adorned caves where little princesses were forced to dwell.

It's funny you should feel like one now.

There are clothes sprawled across the floor. Vanilla ice cream in shade and shape, they feel too pure to have been chosen by a man like him. Too pure to have been tainted by the darkness of his fingertips. It's only now that the dress glares back that you notice your bareness, Jedi robes stripped and discarded.

That fiend...

You feel skinned, alone. No saber to grasp, no golden drapes. Nothing to paint you as Jedi. It's with reluctance that you lace yourself into the sweet dress, with utter reluctance that you step out onto the beach of rocks awaiting outside.

You spot the man,

the sith.

Qimir

His name reverberates within your head. You lick each letter, rolling them across your tongue and drinking in their condensation. "Qi-mi-rr" the name shouldn't taste of exotic fruits blended and bled. It shouldn't taste like fruit cocktails and coconut cubes but it does.

It does and it's disgustingly delicious.

He walks with the steady strout of a man who knows he is the most dangerous thing on this beach, on this island, on this entire planet. A volcano among mountains.

You follow behind bare feet on smooth rocks. Fumbling across the beach.

Chasing shadows. Chasing monsters.

He sheds his robes like skin, peeling away sabbath vestments to reveal cutis. Tanned and scarred, marred flesh risen like volcano veins cascading across his spine.

You shouldn't admit how desperately your fingers ache to trace the tragic thing. You glid your nails across the notched igneous rocks. Dreaming its soft flesh, his soft flesh beneath your touch. He would shutter under your fingertips as you pull apart his secrets. Nibbling on them like picnic cookies.

He's stripped bare, soft skin caught in the dim sun. His open wounds glisten under soft gold rays. You skate away from the sight, that forbidden sun-drenched sight. Eyes averted and hidden behind the rocks, twice locked, to avoid a rogue glance.

He is nothing if not haunting, forbidden in every way.

Odd how the memory of his bare ankles is what lingers. Carved too steep and too deep in a way that looks too marble. They merge into long robust legs. You can't help but imagine the sculpture of his thighs after, the thing at the end of those perplexing ankles. They too must be strong, carved to define each muscle. You imagine being trapped between them, their forceful push against your meaker body as his ankles intertwine with yours.

"You can open your eyes now."

You taste his darkness in your mouth again. Potent tropical fruits laced with sea salt. He couldn't have known you were trailing after him, you'd been quiet, silent like a whisper.

"It's improper to strip out in the open. What would you have done if someone should have come upon you?"

He treads in the water like a pearl unearthed. Shimmering alongside the blue-green of the lagoon. "You came upon me and nothing happened."

"That's because I had the good graces to avert my gaze from such a sight."

"I'd prefer if you'd look."

He pours water over his face, sparkly droplets cascading down sharp cheekbones. Eyes wide with an odd groggy wonder. The sky and the sea and him ethereally in between. He shouldn't look so magical. Some water nymph playing spike ball with the sun. Drinking in the clouds and blue. Before diving back down into his aquatic galaxy.

"Join me"

"I'd rather impale myself"  

he's treading closer, water shielding his body like liquid lapis lazuli. "I wonder what your lips will taste like blue?" and it's the first time you've ever thought of your order's regalia as something so macabre.

His eyes are half-lidded, licking over your body like a melting Sunday. Or maybe he actually is, you can feel something wet and sinister sliding across your body. Slipping over and under the dress, sucking at pulse points. Anticipating soft vanilla.

You want to rip out his tongue and harbor in your mouth. You want to devour him as if he were ice cream on a summer day. Butterscotch cone with drizzled caramel and star sprinkles. Your teeth ache desperately for just one small bite.

He's standing, growing into a full man, no longer just a boy nymph memorized by soft whites and bright blues. The water droplet clutch greedy to taut muscles, refusing to leave such a Promethean thing.

The wet thing freezes. Running water to ice cube. His force evaporates from you, you bask in the mist of him. Before the shadow roots behind you impenetrable all over again. Qimir steps closer and you close your eyes on instinct. Stepping back, following the flow of sand in breeze.

Such sights are not for us to love.

It tips you off balance, You can't see Qimir but you can feel him. He's closer and closer. That's why you're stalking back. But the plasmic thing behind you nicks your ankle. Lurching you back. In the blink of an eye and the start of a scream, you're suspended in mid-air. Floating above the sands, save in the gossamer of his black mist.

"Careful" Qimir jests

And you crack your eye open just enough to see his outstretched hand.

"I want to take a shower"

"The lagoone is over there" he throws over his shoulder all so causally. like spelling out sea cemetary.

the warmth of the cave is suffocating. Lacing through your body making it breakout into little pearls of hidrosis. You roll over, watching Qimir, solder the cracks of his helmet. The rampant sparks cast him in a galactic white halo. Some intangible creature from the far reaches of the universe.

You wonder back to the incident by the lagoon.

You wonder if his tongue, his real tongue, would feel cool against your flaring skin. Muscle-bound ice cube rolling across your arms, your chest, drinking in your essence in half kisses and open-lipped moans. Sucking tenderly on the veins of your neck.

But shouldn't the tongues of monsters be spiked? cutting deep in search of blood?

Qimir swats the sweat from his temples. Pulling up the back of his shirt in an effort to fight the humidity. His scars transcend so low. Rivers weaving through him, overflowing with treasured secrets. You suck in the force through your lips drinking in its cold confidence. Marching up to stand behind him, only half admiring the rugged skin below the sandy shirt.

"Ahem" Spine straight, head held high. Your stance is practiced, sculpted in the confidence that the order demands. Lightside in every way.

Jedi, Jedi, Jedi

"I know it is futile to ask a treasonous sith like you to abide by the laws of common decency. But I'd ask that you do not come to spy on me while I bathe" Your hands ball into firsts. Glaring death and shark teeth at his blemished back.

He leaves the workbench with all the grace of a crushing tide. Elegance carved from salt rocks and years of walking through stars and shadows. But this time you refuse to step back. There is no dishabille to fear, no sand lines that may be passed.

But he doesn't confront you. He doesn't bask in his rage and stands proudly in front of you. No, instead he paces, or rather almost floats. He's in front of you one minute and behind you the next. The eerieness of it all only comes from the feeling of entombment. He is your cage, your coffin. Burying you under the sand with his precious secrets and red relics. Your nerve beats out of you in little droplets.

Qimir's fingers lace with your own, his hot breath fans the shell of your ear, "How can I make such promises when you act so cute" his voice is coconut shavings upon white sand. You aren't even sure he spoke. " I thought Sith only dealt in absolutes?" his laughter cuts like fractured seashells. Cutting through heartstrings. You want to hear it again and again until you've memorized its melody. "That's what we want the Jedi to believe."

His teeth graze the nape of your neck. That's the last straw, gravity crushes your nerve, and you take off running.

The pearls that shine within his sockets are entirely too dark. You shouldn't be thinking such this as you disrode. But the glimmer of pure drown isn't a worldly sight, it's something unplaceable.

Sith can not be trusted, even if, until mere days ago they had been things of fairytales like dragons and sea monsters. Mystical monsters used to frighten little padwans into finishing their plates. But the stories are true now, they've ripped open the holobooks and sprouted from the screen. Your fingers flex, feeling the weight of his hand in yours.

The monsters are real...

You keep your undergarments on as you descend with the sparkling tides. Qimir may appear at any moment. And you wish to confront a Sith in a Jedi's skin, or what little is left of it.

You're sinking into the watermelon greens and crystal blues, sinking into him... because even so far from the grotto his presence haunts your thoughts still.

"You wouldn't mind if I invite myself in?" The water laps at his feet, he's standing over the liquid threshold.

"What are you doing here?! I told you not to come."

he shrugs and you can't help but notice the definition of his muscles. "It's hot in the cave. Plus you don't own the beach."

He pulls the shirt over his head.

You scream for him to stop.

But this time as he pulls the waistband down you notice something underneath.

Swim trunks.

Bell-bottomed and shaped like a nebula, but only midnight in hue. The cuffs glimmer with red intricacies, patterns from a different time, a different solar system. Each stitch tells some tale of horror or history. Sith things that you'd rather not know. But why engrave them into a swimsuit? Why paint a tapestry on something so jejune?

He treads through the water, deadset on you. And again in every step, you notice a mettle valor that can only come from having killed and kissed your greatest fears.

The rocks are slippery beneath your feet, running, swimming, gliding whatever gets you further from him. But the rocks form barricades of their own. Igneous confines housing prey and beast.

"I meant it when I said you were cute." He has you pinned to the mineral mountains, eyes prying you open, studying your inner workings like a gutted bot. "So fragile so malleable..." You feel his power rolled over your neck.

You didn't expect the kiss. The taste of coconut shavings and caramel. Your heart hammers as he tugs on your hips, pulling you closer. Your lungs burn, filled with salt water and dark force energy.

But suffocating is a small price to pay when he parts your lips and pushes iced star fruits in your mouth.

That night Qimir had tried to feed you soup. Boiled fish and herbs in a cauldron that looks, entirely witch. But the refusal comes not from the perturbation of poison or the primal mistrust shared between star-crossed enemies.

No the refusal comes because you simply do not like fish.

"Just try a spoonful, it's from a rare breed. Considered a luxury on most planets". His entreaties fall on deaf ears, outvoiced by the stubbornness of a crashing tide. You retire hungry, and maybe it's hunger that stirs you in the dead of night.

Or maybe it's the heartbeat echoing from his mask.

He called it cortosis. But it looks more terror than diamond.

You sink to your knees in front of the haunted heirloom, cradling it gently within your palms. The iron flavor upon lips makes you part them, tongue fleshed tracing every welded scar. Sucking in the solder and crystal and every other poison.

You want to be a part of it, to pry open your ribcage and shove the empyrean taj within.

Let its darkness mingle with your blood. You want to feel it's royalty in the marrow of your bones.

In the morning you do not speak about the pulsating thing within. But the mask stares at you as you eat mint and bread from Qimir's hand.

It knows...

It knows things you can never admit.

You'd been planning on narrowly avoiding him. Tiptoeing across the cave to evade stirring him. But the plans die when first light breeches the aperture.

Qimir's gone.

And in his place, he's left yet another raiment.

The dress is summer and doll. Bowed in the back and studded.

Bar'biee in every way.

The hysterically placed designs parody the crisscross of twilight roses and all their thrones. Checkered in shades of obsidian and ink.

But the black of your dress doesn't quite match the ebony of his robes.

It simply plays testament to your ripeness. You're starting to feel like his little doll.

He lies on a beach towel overlooking the sea. So ordinary it makes you choke. Beach ball in the corner by his feet, waiting to be played with.

Fearless.

You wonder just who he had to kill to reach this hubris?

You float down the little exclaves toes barely touching the ground.

He's adorned the rocky beach with a comically large parasol too dark to even have a name. Another towel, a picnic basket, and little coconut cups with straws. Despite his black tainted sunglasses, he knows you're watching him. Caught in the bosom of this haunted shore. Awaiting your capturer's orders.

"You can sit if you want." again he's saying words without realizing how crushing they truly are. Their full weight pulling your bones until they slip from skin.

Might as well have said shark attack and death at sea.

But you obey because despite everything, the towel looks nice and so does the drink.

"The sun doesn't come out very often. But I figured we could at least enjoy it today."

"Thanks," you mutter chewing on the pink straw. You shift your limbs rigidly. Plastic doll coming to life. Pushing tense bones straight as you rest your uneasy head. The waves hum in your ear and you swear you hear the rocks buzze like star songs.

"Why did you bring me here? Why not kill me."

"Well, you're not really any use to me dead" He offers you a melon slice.

"So I'm bait." Qimir sighs, your query exhausting. He simply sips from his own drink. You notice the jounce of his throat with each gulp. How you'd love to ring to those bones, feel them crack between your fingers.

He turns to you, lips a breath away. He hasn't kissed you since that day in the lagoon. But you wish him too so very much.

This isn't the Jedi way...

What?

Qimir's fingers trace over your thighs and hips. Finally, they land heavily on your shoulders, pushing you into the rocks with zeal. He blocks the sun and you can't help but think he's lovelier than any red goliath in the macrocosm.

Qimir's teeth gnaw at your throat, kissing the blood and smearing it with his tongue. Traling open-mouth kisses to the plinth of your neck.

Your nails, rasp curiously at his back, tracing scars, tracing cortosis veins.

His fingers dig into your ribs, painting it in seastars. Kissing starlights and pearls in your bones. His body is hot, scolding. And you wonder if the minerals he surrounds himself with were all nursed in the womb of a violent volcano.

The result of destructive habits is knife bites called kisses and a heart that's finally exploded.

When he pulls off, he poises himself on his knees before falling back to his side, searching for something in the basket. You stare, dress distorted, and breath hitched. You taste the exotic fruit blend again. Burning, caramel, and coconut that linger across your body.

"Hey, can you put this on me?" reality blurs back in, he's dangling a yellow bottle in front of you. "What" he shouldn't have this ease with you. He shouldn't be playing make-believe lovers on the beach with the girl he kidnapped.

But he does.

And you play along too.

"it's sunscreen, believe it or not, I burn easily."

"No"

"please"

"N-"

You don't control your hand as it pours the cream onto his chest. He touches you with such familiarity, the force on this planet is just an extension of him. But you shy away at the thought of running your fingers across his muscle bound chest. What is the force if not a child's toy? If not another doll.

He notices the shyness. Or rather reads it from the air. His force pokes at your arms, laughing at the discomfort. Before you know it he's harbored between your thighs. Large hands holding your wrist.

Firm yet delicate.

He moves your hand over his chest, charting every bump and muscle. Coating the blocker over his skin. It feels like piecing together armor. Preparing him for a battle you've never been invited to.

You don't want this.

Well not quite.

You want to feel his body jolt under your touch and hear the sweet little quips he offers to lighten the mood. You want to capture the fleeting moment where he bites his lip and preserve it for eternity.

But more than anything you want to peel away his armor, his flesh, and bury yourself beneath. Become another one of his secrets and staying inside him. Safe and warm forever.

"Qimir"

He makes pomegranate soup that night. As he nestles your body over his lap. Kissing the half-healed bruise on your forehead. He brings the spoon to your lips and gently nudges your mind to let him in. You part your lips, welcoming him in with the shyness you've been raised on. Blushing little bride-doll.

Legacy. You realize when the seeds erupt inside your mouth.

He's feeding you his secrets, his bequest. Boiling you like the fish and the fruit. And birthing you anew.

You sleep with your head buried in the crux of his neck. Listening to the lullaby of his tattered heart, singing psalms of conquest.

That night you dream of a river red. You blame it on Qimir, the pomegranate seeds were too maroon in color and flavor.

From the crimson water the helmet surfaces. Bobbing in the waves, beckoning you. You cup your hands inside the river, guzzling down the water and licking your fingers after. You let the red kiss your lips and fill your lungs choking you by essence alone. You want to die drinking from the bloodlust. Die in front of his helmet.

So maybe he can call it love.

Or Devotion.

Or anything else equally sweet.

The river doesn't taste like pomegranates, or fruit cocktails, or iced coconut.

It tastes of salty iron, volcanic diamonds and Qimir's lips.

You plunge into the red...

He's thinking about you again. You know it from the moment you awake. His voice is loud inside your head. Reverberating from wall to wall until it is the only thing you hear.

This time the garments are waterproof. Swimwear. Two pieces in black, just black. And adorned with red trees on the seams.

Right, because you beat me in the forest.

Clever.

He has left bangles too, jagged and bruised purple with veins of white. cortosis. Accompanied by a golden necklace that looks like a beating heart, ripped freshly from someone's chest.

"You look beautiful," he remarks after you've dressed in his colors. When did he come in? You need to get better at hearing the man born from shadows. The man who's walking between worlds unseen, unheard his entire life.

He pulls you close, nails picking at the soft flesh of your tummy. Scratching skin and leaving red crescents. He kneels and licks and bites, claiming this new chart of unmarked skin.

This has always been about possession, domination, damnation. "Qimir" you moan and it feels so wrong and so right. Like saber to the heart.

Oh force, how far you've fallen.

Qimir laces his fingers with yours pulling you outside the cave. The sun shimmers off his lopsided smile and he really does glow brighter than every star in the known cosmos.

The lagoon is red.

It shouldn't be red.

"You killed them" Since when have such dire words spilled so easily from your lips? Sol, Jacki, Yord. Are they in this pool? shimmering translucent awaiting a vengeance you do not think you can deliver?

"Yes...But not your Jedi, not yet. These were just some self-pious knights who got in my way."

He brings his arm up showing you a fresh saber cut, before pulling you into the water. It's so warm boiling, lava meets water. You think your skin will peel off.

But you stand your ground. Force directing your every breath. Spine straight head high. Darkside in every way

Sith, sith, sith

You grasp at his forearm, pulling it to your lips. Your tongue finds the slit in the skin and dives it. Mapping out the muscles and drinking in the red.

Exotic fruits bled and blended.

"I think I'm finally getting through to you," Qimir says, brown pearls glazed over with pride. "My sweet little acolyte."

You giggle at the term. It tastes so bitter, like a raw espresso before dawn.

"Oh, master" you moan. As you pull him under the red waters. Lips and legs entwined.

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[strqwberryscapes]

mistakes of an apprentice

the ask -> hey there! could i request a fic...you're badly hurt and qimir in disguise finds you. as injured as you are you just beg him not to tell your master, fearful of what he will do to such a weak pupil. qimir corrects your assumptions.

content warnings -> description of injuries, canon typical violence

it was almost impossible to stay out of sight on nar shaddaa. especially while leaving a trail of blood after every step. the only thing she could use to hide were the narrow alleys across the city, and even they weren't nearly as empty as they should be.

staying focused was difficult, when the reminder of her failure made walking difficult. there wouldn't be an issue if the guards were equipped with blasters only. instead, they carried fucking swords, and the one she was ordered to kill wielded a lightsaber, probably bought on the black market. of course, they weren't a match for her, but she heavily underestimated the seriousness of the situation. and now she paid the price- a cut in the side of her stomach, too deep for her liking.

she cursed under her breath. she was a sith. or, at least she tried to be one. with her potential, even a dozen of armed men shouldn't be an obstacle.

a cough escaped her throat, and she shivered. she could barely walk, and if her master found out just how weak she was... he trained her to defend herself. to attack. to kill. he can't see that she won, but barely.

yet, he probably will. one way or another. qimir might pass on what he was about to see- her vulnerable, wounded state. still, she prayed that he wouldn't.

it took her a few more turns and a worrying amount of effort to get to the ship. it stood in a very old, suspiciously looking dock, but she didn't bother with finding a more dignified place. it was supposed to be an "in-and-out" job.

first thing she was greeted with was qimir rushing to her side.

"finally!" he voiced in an accusing tone. "did you have fun? you know, i waited here for hours...and worried." he sent her a cheeky smile.

as much as his banter might have been funny at times, this was definitely not one of them. and he seemed to realise that rather quickly.

"are you...okay?"

she shut her eyes tightly and exhaled. her side burned like fire, and she was exhausted.

"it's just a- scratch." her voice was strained, and in opposition to her own words, her knees almost gave out.

qimir was quick to catch her. his brows furrowed, as he tried to hold her up. his usual, clumsy demeanor was replaced by seriousness.

"you're hurt." he stated, seating her down on the ground, and leaning her back on the wall. "where?"

he tried to uncover her cloak, but she grabbed his wrist instantly, stopping him in place.

"qimir." his name fell out of her lips, sounding like a plea. "don't tell my master. you hear me?"

he tilted his head in confusion.

"please. please! he will think i'm weak. it doesn't matter i killed that man. that i killed- i killed them all." her voice wavered. "all he will see is that i got injured- badly injured. he trained me so i would be able to handle myself, but turns out i- i can't."

the dock they were in was empty, and she thanked the maker for that. she thanked the maker for the shadows that hopefully covered her teary eyes.

if her master decided she is, in fact, too weak, he'd disown her, in the best case scenario. she'd never see qimir again.

or he'd kill her.

both of these options weighted heavy on her shoulders. she couldn't even bring herself to look at qimir.

he called out her name quietly, snapping her out of her thoughts.

"we need to take care of this. now." he urged, yanking his wrist away from her grasp.

"qimir, please." she uttered, desperate, exhausted and in pain. "he'll throw me away."

qimir froze, clenching his jaw. did she really think he'd get rid of her, just like that? today was the first solo mission he assigned her with, and force, she completed it! he knew he wasn't the one to show affection whilst underneath the mask- but he tried to make up for it when he was just qimir. when he was her guide and supplier. he wanted to make up for that.

but of course, she had no clue.

and now, she was in front of him, wounded and barely conscious.

he needed to make her understand.

"take that cloak off. i'm not asking." qimir said firmly, as he usually would during training.

her eyes widened at the sudden change of attitude. his voice sounded different from how it usually was. there was something behind it- something she couldn't quite place.

yet she obliged, shrugging the fabric off of her shoulders, wincing. she revealed the injury, shifting a little to the side. her robes were already damp and colored with dark crimson.

qimir didn't say a word, and his expression was unreadable, yet laced with worry. he seemed to be contemplating something.

"stay still." he commanded quietly.

he moved one of his hands to rest atop of her wound.

"what are you doing-?" she hissed. the pain certainly didn't get any better from the pressure.

once again, he remained silent. he focused, steadying his breath, and letting his energy flow through his extended arm.

she felt the burn dissolving, and she wondered if qimir finally used his potion-making skills...

"what are you do-" she started, but he cut her off.

"there."

what has he done? she peered down carefully, expecting to see the injury but-

there was nothing there. her skin was untouched.

in one terrifying second, she had realised that qimir had healed her. force-healed her.

it could mean only one thing, and the thought alone made her stomach twist in fear.

"master." was all she could utter.

qimir gaze was different now. his force signature shifted to a dark and heavy, familiar one.

"you did well today, acolyte."

he said calmly, as if nothing happened.

"master- i-i'm so sorry-" uncertainty gnawed at her. what could all of this mean for her? for them?

"you should rest." qimir's voice was gentle, so different from what he sounded like from under the mask.

as he stood up, he extended his hand towards her.

she stared at it dumbly for a moment, then hesitantly let him pull her up, to his side.

to his side, where she belonged.

now, she was certain of it.