#stormtrooper reader

[chaoticshitstick]

Why Do You Seem So Blue?⋆·˚ ༘ *

Luke Skywalker x Stormtrooper! Female Reader

Aka: A recon goes bad, for the better.

-- this (y/n) has predetermined features! --

⋆·˚ ༘ *requested by my lovely wife @mmexoii⋆·˚ ༘ *

(( Y/N means your name// L/N means last name )))

TW: Mentions of Guns and death!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

This was supposed to be a rescue mission. In and out. Grab the princess, and leave.

It was going well to start. Minus the onslaught of Stormtroopers. Lucky for Luke, they can't aim.

Except for one.

This one specific trooper almost shot Luke dead in the face a few times, and if it wasn't for his amazing senses (totally not dumb luck), he'd be dead.

It's all he could think about. Hell, it's all any of the group could think about. This doesn't just happen. Stormtroopers don't magically get better overnight.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The group ends up getting split up after an ambush, leaving Luke barreling down a random hallway he's not even sure leads anywhere. He's just... running. He's running as fast as his tired muscles will let him. He needs to regroup; being alone in a Sith ship is not a good idea.

Luke's footsteps echo through the halls as he runs. The adrenaline coursing through him leaves the loud thuds falling on deaf ears.

He can see it, the end of the hallway. A dead end. He made a wrong turn a while back.

'Shit.' he curses internally, spinning on his heels to retrace his steps. Though he doesn't turn to the hallway like he assumed he would. He turns and is immediately staring down the barrel of a blaster.

His eyes widen. 'Shit.' repeats in his head.

There in front of him stood a stormtrooper, one he recognized from earlier encounters. The same one that almost shot him in the head. Who now has a blaster pressed between his eyes.

"Foolish boy," the trooper mutters, their voice muffled by the mask. Luke feels his stomach drop, his brain rushing with anxiety. In a mere second, he could drop dead. A single blaster shot where it sat would kill him instantly.

The barrel of the gun is hot against his skin, seems like it'd been fired recently.

The trooper lowers their blaster, pressing it into the center of the man's chest. Luke's breath hitches, his throat tight as he stares at the hauntingly white mask.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The man looks scared. More scared than most she'd dealt with. She'd been trained to abandon most of her morals when becoming a stormtrooper.

Don't show mercy, don't show emotion, allegiance to the Sith.

But there was something about this boy. Something about him pulling at the heartstrings she'd fought so hard to get rid of. He was like... like a tiny lost puppy, and she was holding a gun at it.

For once in her career, she didn't want to shoot.

She lowers her blaster again before tucking it into her holster. The man's brows furrow deeply, his eyes still wide and his breath still heavy.

Luke takes this as an opportunity to run. Bad idea for him, as the stormtrooper grabs his wrist, almost causing him to fall.

"There's more down there. Patrol switch." The trooper hums, pulling him steady.

Luke opens his mouth to speak, but is greeted by a single shake of the head from the trooper. She instead pulls him into the office she came out of when she heard him running, shutting the door behind them.

"Speak," she spits, less of a demand, more of an allowance.

Luke is quick to ramble on with questions, "Why didn't you just shoot me? There was no upside to keeping me alive; you could've just-"

He's just as quick to trail off as the trooper removes her helmet, and long brown locks of hair tumble down her back. Her eyes are a warm brown, but they hold no genuine warmth. They're cold and cruel, just like she was trained. Her predator-like gaze bores into Luke's soul as they hold silent eye contact. Luke's mouth is slightly agape, his lower jaw trembling as he tries to find the words to speak. He just can't.

Every muscle in his body tenses as she takes a step forward. His jaw snaps shut. Her eyes narrow as she stares at him.

"I don't know why I didn't shoot you," she spits out, her eye twitching slightly. She seemed almost mad at herself. Mad that her training left her head at the sight of some... guy.

Luke takes a wary step backwards, his back now flush against the wall. To mirror, the girl takes another step forward. They stood about 3 inches from one another, her hot, angry breath the only noise in the room.

"I should've put the blast straight through your head," she says through gritted teeth, raising a finger to press right between his eyes, where the barrel of her blaster previously sat. Luke winces as her finger presses into the skin.

Tension hangs thick in the air as the two stand. The trooper rips her hand from Luke's head with a loud, angry exhale. She begins to pace the room, leaving Luke to slide down the wall and sit on the floor, his own breath heavy. His mind was racing. The girl is obviously angry, pissed even. Yet, she made no move to harm him.

She definitely should, it's her job. She's a higher ranking trooper, signified by the black and orange patch on her suit's shoulder. Killing him should be as easy as breathing to her, but she keeps hesitating.

Something is growing inside of her; or regrowing may be more appropriate. She can feel her heart swell as she looked at the pathetic man on the floor of her office. Her eyes didn't show it, they probably never will, but she wanted to help.

Racking her brain, she returns to their first encounter, when she purposefully missed her shots aimed at the man's face. He was with others: two men visibly older than him, a rather large wookie, and two droids, a C3-model and a R2-model.

The girl blinks as an idea rushes to her head, turning her gaze towards the still frightened boy.

"The droids you came with, do you know their whereabouts?" She questions, walking over to the large computer in the corner of the room.

Luke shakes his head, "We got separated after an ambush, R2D2 is most likely with Han.." he trails off, why is he telling this information to a Stormtrooper. One that tried to kill him at that.

She nods, typing rather quickly as a massive holographic screen deploys behind the keyboard. They didn't use R2-models or C3-models, so it would be rather easy to find their signals aboard the ship and track them down. She did just that.

With a few very specific searches, a slightly wicked smirk rolls over her face. "They're in sector 4, by the loading bay."

Luke's eyes widen in shock, she found his crew so easily. It was honestly terrifying the technology the Empire had.

The girl pulls her hair back up, tucking it under her helmet. "I can escort you there, it's on the way to the prison chambers, so other Troopers will just think I'm transporting a prisoner."

A look of relief washes over Luke's face, a smile accompanying it. He nods, fully on-board with the plan.

"I'll have to cuff you to make it believable, I just won't lock them," she explains, pulling a set of cuffs off her belt as the man stands up.

Luke is quick to comply, turning around with his hands behind his back. He shivers slightly as the cold metal of the cuffs hit his wrists, a very slight *clink* as they close. The trooper held her word and didn't lock the cuffs. Her gloved hand wraps around the middle of the cuffs, using them to guide Luke out of the room and towards the loading bay.

Not a single trooper questions the pair as they traverse the halls of the ship. Most of the troops they saw where lower ranking than her, so they dare not make accusations in fear of punishment or rank decrease.

They reach the loading bay rather quickly, which is completely empty except for the Millennium Falcon. An older cloaked man is quick to rush out of the ship, his hand hovering over his lightsaber at the sight of the trooper. That's all the signal she needs to click the release on the cuffs, placing them back on her belt.

Luke turns his head over his shoulder, looking back at the Stormtrooper lady. She went from trying to shoot him, to helping him escape the place she called home.

Luke fully pivots as the girl turns to leave. "Wait!-"

She turns slightly, looking back at the younger man. The older man removed his hand from over his saber, he could almost sense that she meant no harm.

Luke exhales shakily, "Come with us," he says hesitantly. The trooper looks at Luke for a while, turning her head back to the doors of the loading bay.

Should she leave behind the only life she's ever known? A life of death and destruction, reigning fear wherever she went?

It seems there's only one clear answer.

She raises her hands to pull the helmet off her head, she holds it in her hands a moment, and her eyes pull to the older man. He gives her a nod, he seems okay with the idea.

With that, she tucks the helmet under her arm, turning her head back to Luke. She nods, a proper smile on her lips.

Luke offers a similar smile, offering the girl a hand to take her onto the ship. She grasps his hand with her own, allowing herself to be hoisted onto the ship.

She turns to the older man, releasing Luke's hand. "I'm (Y/N) (L/N), ex- stormtrooper, at your service."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[yanderes-galore]

Can I ask for a romantic concept of a Stormtrooper with a Darling that is a higher rank than them and so commands them as their leader?

Sure! This isn't Clone Troopers btw, this is just your typical Stormtrooper (Anyone can be those.)

Yandere! Stormtrooper with Higher Rank! Darling

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Overprotective behavior, Jealousy, Violence, Murder, Manipulation, Delusional behavior, Dubious/Forced relationship.

Stormtroopers are often used as enforcers in the galaxy during the reign of the Imperial Empire.

There's many different types and by this point, anyone can be recruited to be a Trooper.

After all, this is different from Clone Troopers.

The idea of you just trying to do your job while a Trooper under you acts all smitten is... amusing.

I don't imagine it's too intimidating but... anything can happen.

You're a squad leader loyal to the Empire.

You're often sent to put down rebellion with a squad of your own to lead.

For the most part... everyone under you does their job and acts fine.

Yet there's one Trooper under your command that tries a little too hard to please.

Most of your Troopers have some independence to them.

They listen to orders without much fight, yes, but they are aware you are just their squad leader.

This one Stormtrooper you have doesn't.

They follow you around like a lost puppy, even when not deployed on a mission.

They do anything to win your favor.

You could give them any command... They'd follow it.

In fact, if you were ever promoted, they'd ask to be promoted alongside you due to how loyal they are.

Your other Troopers think they're just doing this to move up the social ladder.

They're simply getting on your good side so they can have power....

Although, the real reason they're doing it may be... worse for you?

They don't care about power, they just care about you.

The only reason they want to be promoted is so they can stay by you.

The last thing they want is you leaving the squad for a better opportunity.

But it's not like the others will understand...

Maybe they're in it for the power, hm?

You never thought you'd see it... but they're quite the clingy Stormtrooper.

They'd take a bullet for you, in fact, they'd probably die for you.

The Empire? No... They'd rather give themselves to you.

A Stormtrooper yandere would be a devoted yandere, one dedicated to their obsession exclusively.

They'd kill for you, die for you...

You don't even have to love them back.

They'll love you regardless, they might not even force you.

They probably know that you won't accept them.

... which is why they feel they need to prove themselves to you.

Proving they deserve your love is a reason they're so determined to climb the ladder with you.

You may even be oblivious to their feelings, simply praising them for being such a loyal Trooper.

Oof... Your praise does wonders for them.

They're, for the most part, a very submissive yandere.

Your word is law in their eyes.

They'll behave and not force anything as they may get in trouble.

They follow you around, though....

I can also see them killing others to keep their position.

Someone else getting too close to you?

They're strangely gone.

Someone else is being promoted to your second in command?

Gone.

They often daydream about you.

They spy on you so much they know what you look like out of your armor.

Even if you don't know what they look like.

To you, they're nearly nobody.

However... They view you as something divine.

Your Stormtrooper is willing to wait until something sparks between you.

But... if you find someone else... or they think you have...

They may just cage you in a room... on break or during a mission....

Then they start shooting off delusional questions, baffling you.

They tell you they feel betrayed, they ask you why you won't love them?

They wonder why you won't accept them... are they not good enough?

You may need to reassign them somewhere else once they snap.

That alone gives you a clue why certain Troopers keep going missing.

However... Separation won't prevent them from adoring you.

They'll find a way to keep you to themselves....

They'll follow you anywhere, they'll kill whoever took their place...

Eventually, you too may just go missing.

However, you won't be dead...

No, instead, they'll take you somewhere no one can find you...

Then you two can finally be together...

Maybe now they can prove their worth to you in other ways than duty?

[blxkstar]

The Republic has been reorganized into the first Galactic Empire.

You will now be living under a new authority. This is a playlist for living under the empire's reign. Please check it out!

"I will start my operations here, and pull the rebels apart piece by piece. They will be the architects of their own destruction." - Grand Admiral Thrawn

"Long live the Empire"

[natertaterrr]

Buckethead - 1

Ok, so... This is a new story for approximately 22 people who want this. I hope you like it! (Stormtrooper x Reader)

Word Count: 3771

You walk around and tentatively start exploring the Death Star. It’s your first day of working as the new Death Star engineer, and it’s not time for your meeting with Tarkin quite yet. You take in the vastness of the moon-sized space station around you in pure amazement, noting every design choice and remarking its ingenuity. 

After around thirty minutes of exploring your new home, you make it to the meeting place and anxiously await for Tarkin to arrive. He arrives with a certain air around him. A certain pissed off air. “Welcome,” he starts sarcastically, “As our new engineer you will be joining the design team for our TIE fighters. You will be on-call, so to say, all of the time. If you are needed, you will be working. Now, seeing as I’m very busy, I can not show you our facilities; so, I have enlisted the assistance of NJ-724. He will show you where you will be living and working for the foreseeable future. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” you replied hesitantly. 

“Alright, I’ll be off now. NJ-724! Show our new engineer around the facilities!” With that, Tarkin was off, and you were left alone with who you now know as NJ-724. 

“Follow me.” He said simply as he started walking away. You quickly catch up with him and follow him to the first location. “This is the research and development room where you’ll design new components for the Empire’s TIE fighters. This is where you’ll meet to discuss with the team.” He walks a bit further down a hall next to it and shows you your office. “Most of your actual work will be done here in your office.” Next, he marches toward a dining hall. “This is the mess hall where you will eat all of your meals. There’s not really much other than that, just…don’t cause any problems.” He immediately marches away again, with you hurriedly trailing behind him. You come upon an area labelled “Bunks” and he shows you to your new room. “Here’s your room. It has a bed, a bathroom, and a closet with uniforms provided.” 

You felt a little overwhelmed by all the new information, but quickly recovered and nodded your head. “Thank you, sir,” you say quickly while moving to open your door. He immediately walks away as you step inside your new room and think to yourself, “What an odd guy.” You look around the room and notice a pager on your nightstand. You pick it up and examine it carefully before clipping it to your belt. You don’t have any personal effects to unpack, so you immediately plop down on your new, surprisingly comfortable bed, taking everything in. After staring at the ceiling for a while, you sit up and go to the bathroom to take a shower. 

You quickly undress in your bathroom and throw your clothes in a pile in the corner before setting your pager on the counter and stepping into the shower. The hot water feels so good at the end of this long day, and you can’t help but sigh as you begin to relax a little. You think back on the day’s events, and your mind wanders to the stormtrooper who showed you around. “NJ-724, was it? Yes. That was definitely it. What a weird guy. He seemed so stiff. Are all of them like that?” You expect that kind of behavior from someone like Tarkin, but why was he so tense? You shook the thoughts away and finished your shower. After getting out, you were feeling lazy and opted to just go to bed nude.  

The next day, you got up and got dressed in your new uniform before heading off to the mess hall. Unfortunately, you got lost on your way and had no clue where you were…(y’all know what’s coming next, be so fr)

A stormtrooper was about to walk past you, but stopped. He tilted his head and asked, “Are you lost, y/n?” You assumed that since he knew your name, it was NJ-724. 

“Oh. Hello sir. And yes, I can’t find the mess hall.” You said, surprised by his speaking to you. 

“Don’t call me sir. Just call me J-7, it’s what most people call me anyway. Can I show you to the mess hall?” 

You respond, though caught off guard, “Yes, thanks!” with a bubbly sound to your voice. 

“Why do you sound so scared?” He asks plainly as he walks you toward the mess hall. 

“Oh. Um…I’m not sure, actually. You just didn’t seem like the type to offer help or a nickname like that, I guess.” You say hesitantly. “You’re very-” you hesitate for a moment, searching for the right word. "—formal. At least compared to what I expected."

J-7 lets out a short chuckle. "Formal, huh? Well, I suppose that’s what happens when you spend most of your time marching between orders." He pauses for a moment before glancing at you. "But…not everyone here is that rigid."

You tilt your head, intrigued. "Oh? What do you mean?"

J-7 slows his pace slightly, as if contemplating his response. "Let’s just say, some of us know how to have a little fun when we’re not being watched too closely. There are ways to make life on the Death Star a little less…stiff."

The idea surprises you. The Empire, Darth Vader more specifically, hardly seemed like the type of place where “fun” was allowed. "Like what?" you ask, curiosity sparking in your voice.

J-7 doesn’t answer immediately but he gestures ahead. "There’s the mess hall. Get some food, settle in. Maybe if you stick around long enough, you’ll figure it out."

You eye him skeptically, but there’s something almost playful in his tone—something you didn’t expect from a stormtrooper. 

You step into the mess hall, the hum of conversation filling the space as Imperial personnel go about their meals. The air carries the scent of standard-issue food—simple, functional, and probably lacking in excitement. Long metallic tables stretch across the room, occupied by engineers, officers, and stormtroopers, all absorbed in their own routines.

J-7 gestures toward the serving area. "Food’s over there. It’s nothing fancy, but it’ll keep you going."

You grab a tray and move through the line, selecting a meal that looks…adequate. As you turn to find a place to sit, you glance back at J-7, wondering if you should stick with him or find a seat alone.

J-7 watches you for a moment before casually nodding toward an open spot. "You’re new. Might be good to get to know some of the others." 

You decide to stick with J-7, figuring that having at least one familiar face on this massive space station might not be the worst idea. He leads you to a corner of the mess hall where a few stormtroopers are sitting, though the conversation between them seems more casual than what you expected from Imperial soldiers.

J-7 sits down, and you follow suit, setting your tray down as the others glance at you briefly. One of them—a trooper with a slightly scuffed helmet resting beside him—raises an eyebrow. "New recruit?" he asks.

"New engineer," J-7 corrects, nodding toward you. "Just got here yesterday."

The trooper hums in understanding before taking a bite of his meal. "Well, hope you like long hours and a pager that never stops buzzing."

"That…sounds reassuring," you say, picking at your food.

J-7 lets out a short laugh. "Don't listen to him—he’s just bitter about his own assignments. Your work is important. That means you get the occasional headache but not without its benefits."

You raise an eyebrow. "Benefits?"

J-7 doesn’t answer immediately, instead focusing on his food. One of the other troopers chimes in, a smirk on his face. "Let's just say the Death Star isn’t completely militaristic with strict rules. You stick around long enough, you’ll figure it out."

You get the sense that something is left unsaid, and as you glance at J-7, he seems to be quietly gauging your reaction. J-7 catches your look and lets out a small, amused sigh, shaking his head. "You’re really not gonna let that go, huh?" he mutters.

The trooper with the scuffed helmet chuckles. "Told you, newbies always wanna know the fun stuff."

J-7 leans back slightly, crossing his arms. "Look, all I’m saying is that not everything around here is as…sterile as the Empire likes to pretend it is. People find ways to have a little enjoyment, even in a place like this."

You narrow your eyes slightly, curiosity still nagging at you. "Like what?"

J-7 hesitates for a moment, then leans in just a little, keeping his voice low. "Let’s just say there are places on this station that aren’t exactly listed in the Imperial records. Places where people can let loose without someone breathing down their necks."

The idea is almost baffling—hidden pockets of freedom within the most imposing military installation in the galaxy? You glance around the mess hall, now wondering if some of the personnel around you knew about these places too.

Before you can ask more, another stormtrooper walks by, throwing a glance at J-7. "Hope you’re not corrupting the new guy already," he remarks, tone light but laced with amusement.

J-7 smirks. "I’m just making sure she knows a little more about life here."

The trooper snorts before walking off, leaving you even more intrigued.

You decide to let the mystery linger for now and focus on finishing your meal. The food is... well, functional. It does its job—keeping you fed without much excitement. As you eat, you listen to the casual chatter of the stormtroopers around you, catching snippets of jokes, lighthearted complaints, and the occasional mention of patrol schedules.

J-7 eats without much urgency, occasionally glancing at you as if measuring whether you’ll dig deeper into his vague hints or let them fade away. But for now, you choose to take things one step at a time. No need to rush into secrets on your second day aboard the Death Star. You’re not trying to die so soon. 

As you finish your meal, J-7 finally speaks up. "You gonna head to your office now? First real day on the job, right?"

You nod, wiping your hands. "Yeah. Time to see what designing for the Empire is really like."

J-7 smiles with just a hint of mischief that you don’t pick up on. "Well, good luck with that. And hey, maybe I'll catch you around later."

Something about his tone suggests he knows more than he’s letting on. But for now, it’s time to see what your work entails.

You decide to head straight to your office, eager to start your first official day as an engineer aboard the Death Star. The corridors feel just as vast and intimidating as they did yesterday, but now, there's a sense of purpose in your steps. You're here to work—to design, to innovate, and, perhaps, to uncover more of the hidden layers of this place.

As you arrive, the door slides open with a mechanical hiss, revealing the stark, efficient workspace ahead. A terminal sits on your desk, already displaying preliminary schematics for a new TIE fighter model. Papers detailing technical specifications and past designs are neatly arranged to one side, waiting for your review.

Just as you're settling into your chair, your pager buzzes.

A message flashes across the screen: "Meeting in R&D. Immediate attendance required."

Well, looks like there's no easing into the job. Time to see what your first project entails.

You waste no time and head straight to the R&D department. As you step inside, you find yourself in a large, sterile room filled with high-tech workstations, holo-projectors displaying schematics, and engineers deep in discussion. A few stormtroopers stand nearby, seemingly monitoring the proceedings, while an officer with sharp eyes and an air of authority waits at the center of it all.

"Ah, the new engineer," he says, eyeing you critically. "You're just in time. We're reviewing a major flaw discovered in the latest TIE fighter prototype, and I expect your full attention."

You nod, slipping into a seat at the table as a holo-projection flickers to life. The display showcases a detailed breakdown of the current model’s weaknesses—a structural issue in the wing supports causing unexpected stress fractures.

"We need solutions," the officer continues, his tone clipped. "Lord Vader expects efficiency, and we will deliver."

You glance at the schematics, analyzing the problem. Already, ideas are forming in your mind.

You decide to take a moment and listen as the other engineers discuss possible solutions to the structural flaw. Some propose reinforcing the wing supports with additional plating, while others suggest redistributing the stress load through internal adjustments to the framework.

One engineer speaks up, pointing to the holo-display. "If we simply add more material, we’ll increase the overall weight, potentially affecting speed and maneuverability. We need something more efficient."

Another chimes in, gesturing toward a schematic. "What if we adjusted the support angles? If we shift them slightly, the stress points could be redistributed without compromising the design’s integrity."

The officer overseeing the discussion narrows his eyes. "That could work, but any modification must be tested rigorously. We cannot afford another failure in the field."

You absorb everything, analyzing the trade-offs and challenges.

You take a deep breath, studying the schematics carefully before speaking up.

"What if we adjusted the internal framework instead of just reinforcing the wings?" you suggest. "If we integrate a lightweight alloy with high tensile strength into the core structure, it could redistribute the stress without adding too much weight. Something like a composite material—maybe a durasteel-carbon weave."

The other engineers exchange glances, considering your idea. One of them nods thoughtfully. "That could work—durasteel is strong but dense, so a composite mix might balance out the weight issue."

Another engineer pulls up data on similar materials used in past designs. "We’d need to run simulations, but if we can find the right balance, it could solve the issue without compromising maneuverability."

The officer watches the exchange, then nods. "Run the calculations. If the numbers check out, we’ll move to prototype testing."

You feel a small rush of satisfaction—your first real contribution. J-7 was right; the work here was demanding, but it had its moments.

As the team begins simulations, the officer turns to you. "Since you’re new, I want you to oversee some of the testing process. Make sure your proposal holds up."

“Yes, sir.” You decide to take a moment to prepare before heading to the testing lab. This is your first real assignment, and while your idea seemed promising, you know that execution is everything.

You review the preliminary calculations, double-checking material properties and weight distribution adjustments. If the composite mix works as expected, it should balance structural integrity without overburdening the fighter’s agility. You jot down a few notes, considering potential pitfalls—unexpected stress points, material fatigue over time, and the ever-present demand for cost efficiency within the Empire’s budget constraints.

After gathering your thoughts, you straighten up, taking a deep breath. Time to make a solid first impression.

With that, you step out of your office and make your way toward the testing lab, ready to prove your design concept.

You step into the testing lab quietly, choosing to observe the process before getting directly involved. Engineers and technicians bustle around, adjusting equipment and preparing the prototype for stress testing. The sleek TIE fighter frame, modified with the proposed composite material, stands under the harsh fluorescent lighting, ready for analysis.

A technician runs a scan on the structure, displaying heat maps and stress points on a nearby monitor. You watch as the simulated forces push against the wings, assessing whether the material holds up under high-intensity maneuvers.

One of the engineers mutters something under his breath. "If this doesn’t hold, we’ll have to go back to reinforcing the frame."

The results begin to load—a visual of stress distribution across the frame. So far, the structure is holding better than previous versions, but a few minor weak points are emerging. Nothing catastrophic, but something worth addressing.

You take mental notes, observing how the team reacts. Some nod in approval at the early signs of success, while others prepare for additional tests. Now is your chance to step in and contribute.

You clear your throat and step forward, catching the attention of the team. "The material is holding up better than previous designs, but those emerging weak points could become a problem under extreme maneuvers," you say, gesturing toward the monitor. "If we adjust the layering in those specific areas—perhaps adding a slight reinforcement without compromising weight—we might be able to distribute the stress more effectively."

One of the engineers nods, pulling up additional schematics. "You’re onto something. If we refine the weave pattern, we could strengthen those points without drastically altering the overall composition."

The lead technician adds, "I’ll run a secondary stress test with those adjustments in mind. If it checks out, we can move toward real-flight simulations."

The officer overseeing the test studies the data, then turns to you. "Impressive analysis. Keep refining the details—we’ll need a full report by the end of the cycle."

You nod, feeling a sense of accomplishment. Your suggestions are making an impact, and you’re quickly proving your worth as part of the engineering team.

As the next phase of testing begins, a stormtrooper you somehow recognise as J-7 unexpectedly appears at the doorway, observing from the sidelines. 

You glance briefly toward J-7, offering a quick nod and a bright smile of acknowledgment before turning your attention back to the testing process. There's a job to do, and you're determined to see it through.

The engineers continue refining the adjustments based on your input, running updated simulations to test stress points in the new composite layering. As data streams onto the monitors, you track every change, every anomaly, ensuring the modifications hold under extreme conditions.

From the corner of your eye, J-7 watches with interest. He leans casually against the doorway, arms crossed, as if assessing your performance.

The lead technician turns to you. "The numbers are solid and within expected parameters," he continues, tapping the screen to highlight key data points. "If we maintain this trajectory, the new composite should exceed durability benchmarks."

You study the readouts, mentally running calculations against prior results. A small frown tugs at your lips—there's something off, a minor fluctuation in the stress tolerances that doesn't align with projected outcomes. It's subtle, but noticeable enough that your instincts tell you not to dismiss it.

J-7 shifts slightly, his stance relaxed but his gaze sharp. "You see something?" he asks, tone neutral yet laced with curiosity.

You nod, fingers trailing over the screen as you pinpoint the anomaly. "This variance," you say. "It shouldn't be here. Not at this stage."

The lead technician peers closer, pulling up additional diagnostics. "You're right," he murmurs. "If left unchecked, it could compromise structural integrity long-term."

The room falls into a brief silence as adjustments are considered. Then J-7 straightens, pushing off the doorway. "Run another set of simulations," he instructs. "We'll isolate the issue before moving forward."

You exhale, satisfied but still vigilant. There's always more to uncover, more to refine—but that’s the job, and you’re not one to back down from a challenge.

ou watch the updated simulations run, tracking every adjustment with sharp focus. The anomaly remains slight, but you know better than to ignore a potential weakness.

"The variance is consistent," the lead technician notes, frowning at the data stream. "It's subtle, but under sustained pressure, it could escalate."

J-7 folds his arms, considering the results. "We need a countermeasure. Something that mitigates the stress without disrupting the composite layering."

Ideas whirl through your mind. Reinforcing the problem areas directly might work—but you risk compromising the delicate weight balance of the fighter. A more strategic solution is necessary.

"What if we adjust the molecular structure of the composite itself?" you suggest. "A dynamic reinforcement that responds to force instead of static layering. Something akin to an adaptive weave—a material that strengthens at critical pressure points but remains lightweight otherwise."

The technician's eyes flicker with interest. "A reactive framework? That could distribute impact more efficiently, reducing stress fluctuations over time."

As the engineers set to work, the officer overseeing the tests steps closer, watching you with measured appraisal. "You're proving yourself useful," he admits. "Lord Vader appreciates efficiency. Continue delivering results, and you may find yourself in more significant projects soon."

A chill runs down your spine at the mention of Vader. More responsibility, more pressure—but also an undeniable opportunity.

J-7 smiles slightly as he watches the exchange. "Seems you've made an impression."

You offer a short nod, suppressing any lingering nerves. Whatever comes next, you’re ready.

The feasibility analysis runs in the background as discussions swirl around potential modifications. Engineers fine-tune simulations, testing how the adaptive weave might perform under extreme conditions. The concept is promising—if implemented correctly, it could revolutionize starfighter durability.

J-7 steps up beside you, watching as stress-test data populates the screen. “If this holds, we’re looking at a fundamental shift in design strategy.” His tone is thoughtful, but there's a glint of intrigue in his eyes. “Imperial efficiency demands improvements like this.”

You study the numbers, running quick calculations in your mind. "It's holding, but reinforcement integration will be critical. If we scale it up too aggressively, maneuverability could suffer."

The lead technician nods. "We need to strike the perfect balance." He pulls up a 3D model of the modified structure. "If we adjust the density distribution here—" he highlights a section of the wing supports, "—we can ensure stability without compromising responsiveness."

The officer overseeing the process steps forward, analyzing the projections. He turns to you. "You initiated this concept. How confident are you in its success?"

The weight of expectation presses down. You know the risks—but you also see the potential.

"It’s viable," you assert. "We need controlled prototype testing, but structurally, the adaptive weave presents an efficient solution."

J-7 exchanges a glance with the officer. The older man nods. "Begin flight trials. I want actionable results before we move toward full-scale implementation."

With that, the pace in the lab shifts—engineers mobilize, preparing for the next phase. You take a deep breath. The scrutiny is intense, but you're proving yourself.

J-7 lingers a moment before speaking, voice low enough that only you hear. "You keep delivering like this, and you won’t just be an engineer—you’ll be indispensable."

You smile slightly, letting the confidence settle in. No pressure, right?

This is it for Part 1!!!!! I hope you're hooked and I'm sorry about any shit writing! Lots of love, my lovelies!!!! <333

[brienneoftarth1989]

Yes Captain part 2 NSFW

Captain Phasma x fem reader

Previous / Next / Series

Summary: - you try to make your way back to your room but are struggling. You bump into your friend again who asks about your session. Phasma goes back to her room and pleasures herself.

Warnings: masturbation, fake cock, vibrator, squirting

Requests open

Guys I’m so sorry! I didn’t realise I had only posted half the story. I write my stories in a separate document and then copy and past it here! So here it’s is again with the whole story!

———————————

After Phasma left you in the shower block you had no idea what to do. What even just happened? You were trying to process everything that just happened in the last hour and a half and nothing was adding up. Why did Phasma even want to fuck you? Did she like you the same way you liked her? Either way you didn’t want whatever this was between the two of you to stop.

You managed to waddle out of the shower but your legs felt like jelly so immediately you collapsed onto the bench in the middle of the changing room. Jesus christ what has this woman done to you? You slowly got dressed, drying yourself, before grabbing your stuff to head back to your room.

You sat down on the bench once you were fully dressed and wondered how long you would be sitting there before you felt comfortable to move again. After 10 minutes you decided to finally try to stand up and head back to your room. As you stood you felt your legs start to wobble so you quickly grabbed the bench again. Once you felt the strength return to your body you started the walk back to your quarters.

You slowly made your way there trying your best to walk as normal as possible but that was proving much harder than it looked. As you were making your way back you happened to bump into your friend that you had spoken to earlier before training started. “Sooo how was it?” he asked you. You froze in place. Did he know what happened? “Ummm what do you mean ‘how was it’?” you questioned trying your best not to look guilty.

“You're training you idiot. Well it can’t have been that bad if you didn’t even know what I was going on about. How did you manage to get Captain in a better mood anyway? I couldn’t get anything out of her when I did my training and she definitely showed how pissed off she was” he chuckled slightly trying to get the information out of you.

“Oh training, yeah it was alright. She was definitely in some kind of mood but she seemed alright with me. Might have been because I just got on with what she asked of me” you laughed slightly because deep down you knew what the real truth was. “Well I just hope that she is in a better mood tomorrow because I can’t be dealing with it again for a second day of training” he sighed. “Yeah, hopefully. Well anyway I’m gonna get going, I’m pretty tired and need to get some rest” you said trying your best to wrap up the conversation.

“No worries y/n, you do always seem to be on the later training sessions. Well I will see you around” he said walking off in the opposite direction as you waddled back to your room. Once you were there you turned on your light before walking into the room. You decide to get straight to bed because you were going to need all the energy you had for tomorrow.

While you were trying to recover from what Phasma had done to you she was happily doing her own things to herself. She had been too focused on making you cum that she forget to cum as well and now here she is left feeling horny as fuck and you’re not here to resolve that issue.

As soon as she walked through the doors of her quarters the door locked and she immediately stripped off all her clothes. She was far too hot and these clothes weren’t helping. She could feel the throbbing between her legs get worse and worse and all she could think about was making herself cum to the thought of you over and over again.

She made her way to her bedroom opening up her bedside drawer to reveal a selection of toys that she could use on herself. There laid neatly was a black and red dildo, a vibrator and a bottle of lube. The naughty things she was thinking about at that moment were insane. If people were able to read minds she wouldn’t want anyone reading her’s.

Phasma grabbed everything she wanted out of her drawer, chucking it onto the bed ready for her to use. She then crawled onto the bed letting herself spread out in the centre of it. She let her hand travel down her body as she traced patterns with the tips of her fingers making her body shiver under her own touch. She let her hand travel down to the ache in her core, sliding a finger between her wet folds.

Phamsa moaned at her own touch as she felt her fingers run through her folds, collecting the wetness on the tips of her fingers. Slowly she pushed two fingers deep into her dripping core with her long slender fingers. She moaned at the sudden fullness before slowly starting to increase her movements. As she increased the pace in which she pumped her fingers she slowly started to circle her clit with her other hand.

She started to buck her hips into her own hand as she felt herself getting closer and closer to cumming. She was so close as she felt her legs try to close around her hands. She was so sensitive and was struggling to keep her legs open. How desperate she was to have you here so you could force her legs to stay open. She could feel herself getting closer as her legs started to shake at the pleasure she was creating.

“Yes! Right there y/n! Don’t stop! Make daddy cum” she moaned as she finally tipped herself over the edge as she continued to scream your name. She slowly started to decrease her pace in which she was fucking herself before slowly removing her fingers from her cunt. Her fingers instantly went to her mouth so she could suck the cum off her own fingers as she imagined it was you instead of her.

She laid there spread out on the bed as she enjoyed her post orgasm bliss but as she laid there she felt the same sensation coming straight back. Fuck sake she thought to herself. She just made herself cum and her body still wanted more. She looked at the two toys she had in front of her and decided to use the vibrator on her throbbing clit.

She always managed to get an intense orgasm out of her vibrator so decided that it was the right choice. She spread her legs once again as she turned the vibrator on the lowest setting. She placed the toy on her clit and immediately felt her toes curl. She was still so sensitive from the first orgasm.

Once she had adjusted the strength of the vibrator she slowly started to increase the speed of the vibrations which caused her to start moaning at the sudden powerful sensation that was focused purely on her clit. She laid back and enjoyed the feeling of the vibrating and pulsating that she could feel of her clit.

As she laid there in pure ecstasy she imagined you being there with her holding the vibrator to her core, teasing her with the pleasure she was receiving, demanding you to stop being a tease and actually letting her cum from the pleasure. Yes Phasma was dominant in bed but she has never been opposed to being slightly submissive as long as she still has the power.

She felt herself getting closer and closer, her legs once again starting to shake again as she felt the wave of her orgasm take over once again. “Fuck! Yes right there y/n! Make daddy cum! You’re such a good girl” she screamed as the orgasm took over her body. She immediately took the vibrator away from her clit as soon as she came down from her high, laying spread out on the bed once again.

As she came down from her high she felt like she was all done for the evening leaving her body satisfied but boy was she still wrong. “Fuck this shit” she groaned as she grabbed the dildo and coated it with lube. She lined it up to her entrance before slowly pushing the cock into her moaning at the sudden fullness she felt.

“Fuck” she groaned as she slowly started to increase the speed in which she fucked herself. This felt so good she thought to herself as she continued to fuck herself imaging you with a strap-on doing it to her instead. This felt so wrong but yet it felt so right. This is where she wanted to spend the rest of her life. In total bliss being pleasured by you.

Oh what it would be like if you were actually there fucking her instead of her having to fuck herself. She continued to pump the toy in and out of her getting closer once again. She started to clench around the toy and as she came on the toy she ended up squirting and making a mess everywhere.

Fuck she had never made herself squirt let alone to the thought of anyone. She cleaned herself up and changed the sheets before laying back on the bed. With her body finally feeling satisfied she curled up in bed and drifted off to sleep. You were going to be the death of her.

[frost-queen]

What lies deep within the heart // part 3 (Reader!Skywalker x Cal Kestis)

Requested by: Anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22 @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury,  @imagines-by-her, @vviolynn, @evilcr0ne, @fatelmistake12345

Summary: Cal is over the moon meeting the legendary Obi Wan Kenobi. Obi Wan and you share a conversation about your father's past. Back on the Mantis you confide with Cal about your father's past. When the Mantis makes a quick stop, Cal and you head into town which seems normal at first. Till you notice the posters of you hanging around. Will you be discovered or remain unnoticed from the Empire. [ Part 1 part 2 part 4 ]

“Hello there.”

Cal’s eyes widened, spontaneously grabbing for your arm. He started tugging at it, still staring in awe at the newly appeared figure. – “What is it?” – you whispered to him confused. – “That is Master Obi Wan Kenobi!” – Cal fangirled feeling as if he were about to pass out. Obi wan waved you closer. You took Cal by the arm as he wasn’t sure his legs would even move in this condition. BD-1 hopped on Cal’s back when you approached the cave. Obi Wan extended his hand out to you, helping you up. He helped Cal up as well.

Cal squeaked behind you admiring his own hand. Rolling softly with your eyes, you knew Cal would be useless at this point. Too fixated over being in awe of this Master Obi Wan Kenobi. Someone you’ve never heard of. But to be fair, you hadn’t heard of many Jedi. Was it perhaps something your father wanted to shield from you. The only few people you knew where the stormtroopers and Palpatine. Yet he was no Jedi. Obi Wan gestured for you to follow him. – “You… you have a nice place.” – you said nervously, not sure what to say.

It wasn’t really compliment worthy, but you hated the silence. Obi Wan chuckled brief. He guided you to an area in deeper into the cave, lighted up by lanterns. Some junk scattered around. Obi Wan chuckled nervously. – “Apologies for the mess.” – he spoke kicking a part aside. – “That’s alright.” – you answered. He gestured for you to take a seat as you did. Cal was still standing, looking in wonder around. – “Uhum… Cal…” – you said tugging at his shirt. Cal hummed loud turning his head to you. You motioned with your head to the seat beside you.

“Oh right.” – he mumbled out coming to sit beside you. You took a deep breath when Obi Wan came sitting before you. – “May I just say it is an honor meeting you, Master Kenobi.” – Cal said with a silly smile on his lips. He extended his hand shaking Obi Wan’s hand once more. It was rather sweet how Cal gleamed in his presence. – “Cal…Cal…” – you whispered placing your hand on his shoulder. You needed to remind him this wasn’t a casual meeting. – “Right… sorry.” – he whispered back letting go of Obi Wan’s hand. Cal cleared his throat, setting a hand on his knee. – “We’ve been told you have information of Y/n’s father.” – Cal spoke getting all serious.

Obi Wan turned to look at you. – “I do.” – he responded as it made you move nervously in your seat. Rubbing your sweaty palms over your legs. – “May…may I ask a question first?” – Obi Wan asked looking at you. You nodded hesitantly, unsure what he would ask. – “How… how did you end up here. I had always assumed he’d keep you close to his side.” – Obi Wan spoke with furrowed brows. – “He did.” – you answered softly. – “Before… before…” – your gaze glanced briefly to Cal. – “I had never let his side. Always close. I knew nothing of the world around me… I still feel like I don’t… so pardon me if I don’t know who you were…are.” – you explained further.

Cal took your hand, giving it a soft squeeze. – “I got her out. I offered her an escape from that prison, and she took it.” – he spoke explaining more. – “Only after you tried to kill me.” – you said teasingly poking him in the rib. – “Which I didn’t since you charmed me.” – he responded with a teasing expression. – “Did I now?” – you leaned a bit closer. – “I have no memory of that.” – you laughed out. Cal touched your nose making you wrinkle it, pulling back. Obi Wan cleared his throat interrupting your little moment.

Cal and you turned back to him as he let go of your hand. – “Young man.” – Obi Wan addressed as Cal corrected him. – “Cal Kestis.” – Obi Wan hummed loud. – “Cal, do you mind if I have a moment alone with Y/n?” – Cal looked at you. – “Only if she wants it. I promised her I’d stay close.” – You smiled warmly at him. Your gaze drifted away to Obi Wan. – “I’ll be alright I think.” – you said out loud. Cal hummed loud, getting up. – “BD and I will just be outside.” – tapping your shoulder, he took his leave giving you and Obi Wan the space to speak.

Obi Wan got up, offering for you to follow him. You did heading to a more secluded part of the caves. You came to a stop by some crates. Now that Obi Wan was able to admire you in the light, he smiled. – “You look so much like him.” – he said making you look saddened down. – “I’m not so sure that is a compliment.” – you told him fearful. Obi Wan rested a hand on your shoulder. – “The path your father took is not your path Y/n.” – he said wisely yet it didn’t calm your frightened heart yet.

Obi Wan took a deep breath walking with you towards the entrance of the cave. The sun blinding your eyes for a second while they adjusted to the bright sight. Down below you saw Cal with BD-1. He was walking about with little thought. – “Your father was a remarkable Jedi.” – Obi Wan said making you widen your eyes. – “My father was a Jedi?” – you gasped out. – “He was full of ambition and love.” – Obi Wan chuckled a bit to himself.

Both of you sat down on the rock by the entrance of the cave. – “Always full of questions. Asking about why it couldn’t go that way or why that wasn’t possible.” – Obi Wan continued. – “To my annoyance sometimes.” – Obi Wan laughed loud as you smiled. Obi Wan smiled back. – “Your smile it reminds me of her.” – he pointed out. – “My mother?” – you asked already knowing he might be referring to her. – “Your father loved her so much. They were very much alike. Full of ambition.” – Obi Wan smiled faintly.

“Yet their relationship also harbored fear.” – he added making you pull your legs closer to your chest. – “His fear of losing her brought him to the path of the Sith. He was persuaded in being able to save her… in the end…” – Obi Wan sighed deep thinking back of it. – “His love became his weakness?” – you said looking at Cal, wondering if you would have the same fate as your father. – “No.” – Obi Wan made clear laying a hand on your knee.

“The Sith took advantage of his fear. His love was never a weakness. It is his greatest strength, even now. When he cared so lovingly for you Y/n.” – his words eased your worries a bit. Obi Wan turned to look at Cal afar. Cal waved at you as you moved your hand up to wave back. Obi Wan chuckled. – “I can see he cares deeply for you.” – you nodded. – “He kept me from falling… I couldn’t have come this far without him.”

“Just like your mother and father.” – Obi Wan muttered with a smile. Obi Wan got up as you did the same confused. – “I have a gift for your further travels.” – he spoke before disappearing into the cave once more. You waved at Cal to let him know he could come back up. Cal rushed up the hill with BD on his back. – “Are you okay?” – he asked resting a hand on your lower back. You nodded with a hum. – “I understand more why my father chose the path of the Sith.” – you explained to Cal. – “Remember you are not him. His choices will not be repeated inside of you.” – Cal responded letting his head rest against yours.

You took a deep breath, taking a moment to embrace his warm gesture. Obi Wan returned making Cal and you part. – “It is yours to have.” – Obi Wan said holding out an item wrapped in a dirty old cloth. – “It once belonged Anakin Skywalker. Your father. It is only righteous it passes on to you Y/n Skywalker.” – he addressed moving the cloth open to reveal a lightsaber. Your eyes widened with shock. Cal gawked at it in disbelief. Obi Wan offered you the lightsaber. – “Whether you yield it or not that choice is yours to take.” – he continued.

You looked hesitantly at Cal who nodded in encouragement. Your hand reached out to the lightsaber, feeling a familiar sensation. The moment your fingers touched it, a memory flashed before your eyes. Your father young and full of ambition. A warm smile on his lips as he holds his lightsaber up. The memory passed with the blink of an eye. The lightsaber felt heavy in your hand when you picked it up.

You turned to look hesitant at Cal. Somehow it felt a bit wrong for you to carry your father’s lightsaber. Cal nodded with a warm smile. It was yours to take. You clicked the lightsaber on your belt where it hung safely. – “May the force be with you.” – Obi Wan said as a farewell. Cal bowed his head in respect. You smiled a bit saddened at Obi Wan. Being around him made you feel a bit more connected to your father. Closer to the life you never knew he had. Obi Wan seemed to understand it, taking your hand to pat it. – “This is not a goodbye Y/n.” – you nodded as your hand slipped out of his.

Cal and you returned to the Mantis in silence. Back on the Mantis you immediately sat down with a deep sigh. Rubbing your temples in exhaustion. Cal shoved himself close to your body, placing a hand on your arm. – “What did he say?” – he asked. You exhaled deep letting yourself lean back in the seat. Calmly you explained to Cal what Obi Wan had told you. About your father before order 66. About your mother and the tragedy that led him to the life of a Sith.

Cal stared with wide eyes at you. A shock it was hearing how your father used to be. He always thought pure evil harbored inside him. Now it appeared it wasn’t that way. Now he felt like he understood you more. He hugged you out of comfort when Cere joined in. – “I hope you got some answers?” – was the only thing she asked. She needn’t know any details, but still wondered. You hummed loud. – “I did.”

The Mantis landed on Coruscant. A stop for Greez to get some supplies. The stock was running low, so he needed to refill them. Cere took it upon her to collect the supplies while Greez checked the state of the Mantis. Cal, BD-1, and you ventured into town to search for an extra part. Greez had scribbled it on a note with a poor hand drawn picture of it. Cal showed it to you, making you laugh loud. – “Let’s hope the seller can decipher this.” – Cal joked tugging it away. – “Otherwise Greez will have a problem.” – you answered following Cal into town. The town was partly crowded.

Cal looked around, spotting a shop who most likely had the spare part. He motioned for you to follow. You looked over your shoulder noticing something. Narrowing your eyes you hoped to see it clearer. A poster stuck to the side of a building. The lower part flapping in the wind. You couldn’t recognize what it read, but still it caught your attention. Cal was already heading down towards it, unaware that you weren’t following right away. Turning round you spotted another poster. You moved a bit closer to it to read.

Taking about three steps, your eyes suddenly widened. Your face and name plastered on the poster. It made you gasp loud, stumbling a bit back. Your head felt like spinning at the sight of your own poster up. The more you looked around, the more you noticed how many posters of you were up. – “Cal!” – you called out jogging after him. Cal stopped confused with a frown.

He slowly turned seeing you jog over to him. – “Hey, You!” – he heard coming from behind you. A few bounty hunters  gathering around behind you. – “Y/n run!” – Cal shouted pulling out his lightsaber. You started running as Cal blocked their shots. You joined Cal, taking his hand. He pulled you with him, running into an alley.

It was there where he saw the posters for himself. He cursed silently going round in a new alleyway with you. Cal and you came to an immediate stop at the sight of a pack of stormtroopers. They turned spotting you. – “Princess!” – one of them called out as it made Cal quirk his eyebrow briefly up. They started shooting at Cal as Cal deflected their blasts with his lightsaber.

You felt trapped, air sucked out of your lungs. Pulled back to the life you lead with your father. Behind the shooting troopers you noticed one of them speaking over the intercom. – “Tell Lord Vader we have found her. The princess is on Coruscant!” – he shouted in the intercom as it made you gasp loud. He knew. He knew where you were.

----------------------------------------------------

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!  

[thatredobsessedgirlie]

¥Stubborn one¥

A/N: since the lack of stormtrooper x reader fics and Im not talking about the ones where the reader is a stormtrooper Im talking about randoms stormtrooper x reader, so enjoy this fic. Warnings! Swearing, Death, but mostly like 16+ cuz no smut but like virginity is mentioned ONCE OKAY? Enjoy 🤩🥂

You struggled to run, your emotions mixed by shock, anger, and sadness once you saw Jedi men, women, and children alike get slaughtered like animals. You wept for them but knew if you wanted to avenge them you had to run and regroup with other hopefully surviving Jedi, ducking under tree branches and jumping over fallen trees you looked back to see if any of the clones/troopers had followed you. Seemingly none were there so you rested and leaned on an old tree, letting tears fall as you remembered seeing friends die infront of you when fucking Darth Sidious issued that order. “Fuck!” You screamed, weeping in anger and in sadness. You stopped when you heard crunching of leaves near you, getting up to run again which failed when one of the troopers shot your leg, immobilizing you. “Shit! Please please…” You begged for some miracle to heal your broken leg, but alas, nothing happened as multiple troopers came and surrounded you. “Jedi, as per the order. You are no longer of use.” They aimed their guns at you, you let out one tear as you heard the clicking of the triggers and shots fired out, one to your heart, another to your leg, and the last hit was through your stomach, killing you instantly. The captain ordered the troops to move to another position, all obeyed but as they left one remained. Standing there as if he was shocked, for this trooper was the one you subtly flirted with when you were assigned an escort, the trooper who took your first kiss right in front of the doors to the Jedi council meeting (nobody saw of course), the trooper who took your virginity in a jail cell when you were taken hostage along with your escort, the one who defended your honor with his life. Took yours so easily in the outside but on the inside he was so conflicted, unsure. He approached your body and for a second, just a flash, memories of you and him flashed. But just as it came, it had gone. He pressed your forehead unto his helmet, whispering apologies and words of devotion before standing up, and joining his team.

A/N: First time for star wars and I have forgotten lore so dont blame me for incorrect stuff and instead tell me thanks for reading! ♥️♥️😍😍

[anoray]

Purrty please?

My goal is to have the next chapter of Spectre One Rises ready to post around Kanera Week 2023 (coming up the first week of August), but my timing is super bad for my two fabulous beta readers.

If there are one or two other lovely folks out there who are familiar with my WIP and available and interested in beta reading Chapter 9-Part 1, I would be eternally grateful! (Fair warning: Do I write long chapters? Why yes, yes, I do! Like 40ish pages long.)

If that doesn’t totally scare you off, please chat me up, thank you!!!!!

[hazelhavoc]

All I'm saying is, please, for the love of God - someone make a random Stormtrooper x Reader. I'm on my fucking knees. I want to be bent over by one. I don't mind the mask and armor staying on (I have an armor and mask kink). How can there be absolutely nothing when there is so much potential? None? None at all? Are people really not attracted to them, or their voices, or just - just them? The aesthetic? (Like, ones from the original trilogy and the new ones too.)

Not to mention, I have Star Wars OC's that I can use to roleplay as and someone can be a stormtrooper(s). Or whatever.

I am just 😭

It's utter pain that there are none.

Dear Star Wars Fandom,

I'm disappointed with you for a lot of reasons but I'm especially disappointed at the fanfic community for the lack of stormtrooper x reader fics. No not Stormtrooper Finn, not Stormtrooper!Reader, I'm talking just some random stormtrooper. For all my fellow mask kink folks, how tf are y'all not on this?? The rest of you horny people, have you never imagined getting bent over by one or even better, making them obey your orders?

Or forget the smut, just imagine being arrested by one, coaxing them into the Resistance, and having them slowly fall in love with you despite being "rebel scum", forbidden romance shit. Or one who's a loser even in his rank yet you, a Commander, fall in love with them. Or having one committing the greatest betrayal to the Order just for you. Or both of you guys becoming fugitive stormtroopers falling in love throughout the process. Or maybe just you being a fellow trooper/resistance scum that they just can't stop pining and fangirling over because you're just that cool.

Fuck, am I just gonna have to write this stuff myself??

[pasukiyo]

THE UNDOING OF DARKNESS

anakin skywalker/darth vader x f!reader word count: 6k warnings: darth vader, a depiction of murder, angst, smut, p in x sex (unprotected), inappropriate usage of the force, did i mention angst, anakin is also unburnt for the sake of this fic synopsis: sometimes she believes anakin skywalker still exists. darth vader will say that he is no more but she does not truly believe he is gone. after all, anakin once told her that even in death, he would claw his way out of the very earth to find her.

read on ao3

 Every breath feels like the rarest air in Fortress Vader. Not only is it stuffy, and the simplest of movements makes you break out into a sweat, but it has always felt more like a prison than a home. She’s tried to think of it as one, as it is the place where she spends most, if not all, of her days. It is hard, however, when all she can see is gray, orange, and red for as far as the eye can see. It is hard when she knows there is always the possibility that he is there, watching, scrutinizing, waiting. 

 He, the man she once held in such high regard, the man she never thought she would have, the man that always seemed so impossible and out of reach, the man she never thought would have given her a chance. Maybe he wouldn’t have, she thinks when she has nothing to do but sit by the sliver in the wall of the throne room that serves as a window, looking out into the fiery oceans of Mustafar, if he hadn't changed. 

 She knew the man who he once was. She knew the man before the days of apparatus, before the days of the Empire, before the days of darkness. She thinks she must be the only one left who knew Lord Vader as well as she. Yes, she knew the man Lord Vader had been, before the days of dictatorship, before the fear of existing, because existing, in these days, was fear in itself. 

 She thinks she must be one of the only ones left who knew of Anakin Skywalker. Sometimes, when she sees Lord Vader in the way she and only she sees him, she thinks she can see Anakin again, slipping through the cracks. Sometimes, she believes Anakin must still be here, somewhere, if even a fragment of him. Sometimes she will look into his eyes— the fiery pools they were now— and swear she will see a glimmer, a mirage of that cerulean ocean she once knew, slipping through the cracks of his inferno. 

 If Anakin Skywalker did still exist, however, Lord Vader made sure he never came to be. If Anakin Skywalker still existed, then he was simply locked away deep inside the cage that had been built around the new Lord Vader’s heart. She isn’t sure if it is possible to break through the iron bars— and frankly, she’s become too frightened to even want to continue trying. She feels guilty, like she has some sense of responsibility, of duty to the lost Anakin Skywalker, as she is the only one that Lord Vader allows so close, the only one who may see him in a state as vulnerable as he will allow her to see him. 

 She wonders sometimes if Anakin Skywalker cries out for her, much like the way she did when she was taken, plucked like a rose from her village in the outskirts of Galidraan. When she closes her eyes, she can still remember that day, the harsh cold on her skin, the painful inferno inside her chest, the binds used to restrain her hands behind her back. 

 “No!” She can still feel her scream ripping from her throat, the acidic, rumbling feeling in her chest as she watches the red plasmic blade of the dark figure slice clean through her uncle’s neck, and can still see the shape of his head tumble into the white snow through her watery vision. Although she knows she is merely looking into the past, the pain feels too real, like she is reliving her worst day again. 

 She lunges forward, like she intends to avenge her uncle, a foolish spur of the moment instinct, as she is bound by the wrists and with a blaster to the back of her head. The stormtrooper behind her knocks the butt of his blaster into the back of her skull and her head rings while her cheek finds the snow. She hears her cousins and her people cry behind her and when she pries a single eyelid open, she can make out their trembling silhouettes, on their knees, shoulder to shoulder, a wall of stormtroopers behind them. 

 The ringing begins to dull and she hears footsteps somewhere behind her. She cannot bring herself to move, as she is stunned with the realization that today would be their final day. All these people she’s grown up with, her family she swore she would protect— they would meet their ends today. She would never see her off-planet friends again— she would never see Anakin Skywalker again. That promise he made her that he would see her again feels empty now. She almost wonders if she was a fool to put so much faith in him and his Jedi friends to begin with, if she was a fool to think he’d want her, someone as simple and as plain as her. 

 But all the same, he said they would come should trouble find her beloved planet— so where was he now? She believes he cannot be dead, purged along with many of the other of his kind. She knows he is out there, somewhere. Everyday, she thinks he will come poking his head out from the snowy horizon. Everyday, she waits for that moment to come. She feels the bitter cold seeping into her bones now and thinks how foolish she’s been for believing in such a thing. 

 “The prisoner dares the thought of standing against me,” she hears a voice, deep and undoubtedly male behind her and feels a quivering somewhere inside her chest. The bile that’s been resting at the base of her throat threatens to rise when two stormtroopers step forward, likely from this dark figure’s command, and wraps their hands under her armpits, hoisting her from the ground. She presses her lips together to quell her sick as the world spins and all she can see is black and white. 

 The figure is tall and broad, much more so now that she was so close to him. She has to look up at him and she tries to blink away the blurriness from her vision, and when it does, she can make out the face of his mask. She glowers into the two black circles of his eyes, trying to keep her gaze locked on him rather than on the limp body of her uncle. 

 “You cannot do this,” she says, her voice shaky with uncertainty but feigning determination all the same. “You cannot take us. You cannot kill us. Ana…” she pauses and somewhere in her delirious mind she thinks perhaps she shouldn’t say his name, shouldn’t put yet another target on his back. But her brain tells her these will be her final moments and all she can really think of now is Anakin and of his promise she still tried to cling onto, even now when it was quite literally impossible for it to be fulfilled now. “Anakin will come for us. You cannot kill us.”

 A silence ensues and the masked man’s shoulders rise and she thinks she must have caught him by surprise. Perhaps he already knows of Anakin Skywalker, perhaps he merely wonders why a girl as plain and unimportant as she knows of a Jedi Knight when they’ve all been purged, seemingly from his hand, or at least, his command. 

 His black capes flows in the snowy wind and she trembles, more from knowing his stare behind that mask is devouring her rather than the cold. 

 “You speak in tongues,” he says at last, stepping forward, closer until all she sees is black, an endless void with two circles and a triangle for a face. “I can and I will take whatever I want, foolish girl. I will do what I please.”

 He straightens and with a black, gloved hand, points towards her people, her family. “Kill them,” he says simply and panic blinds her, taking control of her limbs. 

 “No. No!” She screeches into the howling wind, thrashing against the hold of the two stormtroopers behind her as she hears blaster shot after blaster shot and the sound of bodies falling into the snow. “Anakin! Anakin, please! Help me! Help us!” She screams again, sounding more like a fool than she ever has but she’s desperate as she tries to lift herself from the ground, kicking out towards the dark, wicked man before her. 

 All five fingers of the same hand the man used to damn her family to their deaths outstretches and it is like her body, her limbs are no longer her own. They freeze in place and no matter how hard she tries to will them to move, to will her arms to thrash about against their restraints and her legs to kick, they will not. Her heart pounds against her chest and it rises and falls with her shaky breaths as she is forced to stare at the man who has taken her entire world away in a matter of seconds. He steps forward again, looms like a dark cloud with the promise of downpour over her and she has no choice but to stare back, her brows knit together, the promise of tears stinging her eyes. 

 “The man you speak of ceased to exist long ago,” he speaks and she doesn’t quite want to believe him. Although, for a reason she cannot quite define now, she thinks he must be telling the truth, or at least, some version of the truth. “It’d do you well to rid your mind of these foolish beliefs. You shall not be saved. Your life rests in the palms of my hands, and I will do with it what I please.”

 Still, she cannot move, all she can do is silently cry, waiting for this man, this awful, wicked, yet somewhat familiar man to damn her to whatever fate he had in store for her. 

 “You will come with me. You will live in my fortress. You will be what I want you to be. This is a mercy, but do not consider yourself saved. Your life will still be mine to own, and it will be mine to end, should I desire it.”

 She opens her eyes and finds herself back in Mustafar again, staring out at the same fiery ocean she sees every other day. The pain and the memory of that day is still fresh, but she still cannot shake what she feels of Anakin— or rather, Lord Vader— even knowing what he is, what he is capable of. She hates herself for being so easy, for still wanting to believe that her Anakin is still there and that what she has with the new Lord Vader is love, a twisted, altered version of what her life might have been like with Anakin, should circumstances be different. 

 There are footsteps thrumming through the hall beyond the door of the throne room and time seems to still, her heart thudding against her chest as she waits for the door to slide open. When it does, he walks in, rolling like a dark fog into the room and despite the intense heat of Mustafar, she shivers, an icy chill seeping into the marrow of her bones. 

 She simply sits and stares as he stops in the middle of the throne room, her fingers wrapped around the fabric of her gown, chest heaving up and down, waiting for him to address her. She hates this— living in constant fear whilst simultaneously wanting him, wanting the man he used to be, Anakin, back. 

 Another few seconds of silence. 

 And then. 

 “Come here,” he finally speaks and his voice sounds not his own, a different man entirely. She blinks, swinging her legs over the ledge of her seat at the window, complying without a question. Sometimes she hated how easy she gave in to him, but even if she didn’t act of her own free will, she knew she wouldn’t have much of a choice anyways. Still, she hates how quickly she draws nearer, only stopping when she stands before him, looking up into his mask. 

 She purses her lips. She hates this mask. It reminds her of that day. It is the mask of a killer, rather than the face of a man. 

 She inhales, feeling air draw into her chest. Then, “will you let me see you?”

 Another moment of silence, save, of course, for the sound of his breathing through the apparatus. His shoulders rise and fall with his breath and she thinks it must have been a bad day. She internally shudders— tonight could go only one of two ways. 

 She feels a sense of relief, however, when his hands rise to the sides of his helmet, air hissing when he presses his fingers down on either side of the durasteel. Time stops altogether when he inches the helmet away from his head. Full, pink lips unveil behind the mask, a few ridged, faintly red scars like the jagged edges of broken earth spread across his cheeks, up to his strong nose and sharp, red eyes. Dark blonde curls spill over his face and her breath hitches because this is Anakin, but also not and she hates that she still feels something when she sees him, still wants him, and although it pains her to admit it— she still loves him. 

 She blinks up at him, unable to look away and he stares back, lips pressed together, fiery gaze devouring. Yes, it must have been a bad day, because although his gaze is usually unyielding, it is more intense than usual today. It pierces through her, as if he is sifting through her mind, and knowing what he is capable of, he may very well be. 

 It’s reminiscent of the way he used to look at her, back when he was still Anakin. Her Anakin. Her blue-eyed, kind, resilient Anakin. 

 He looked different then, no scars, save for the one on his eye, on his face. His eyes didn’t feel like drowning in a sea of flames, rather, they were oceans of warm cerulean, drawing her in with their kind gaze. She can still feel the rush of secret rendezvous in dark corners of rooms, where no one was watching, away from prying eyes and hushed whispers. 

 She can feel his hands— one warm, one deliciously cool to the touch— resting on either of her cheeks, her own hands wrapped around his elbows. She can still feel his lips against hers then, warm and slow but firm, dominant but soft, gentle. Anakin kissed her like she was a remedy, delicate and precious. Sometimes he still kissed her like this— warm, slow, firm, dominant, gentle. Sometimes it was almost enough to make her feel how she did then— delicate, precious, a remedy. 

 But nothing could amount to the way Anakin looked at her then, with vast blue eyes so inviting, so kind, and so him that she thought she would die if he ceased to look at her like that. This, of course, was not true. Yet, everyday she spent looking into the fiery depths that replaced his warm ocean, she thinks she feels pieces of herself, her old self, rotting. 

 Anakin pulled away from her lips and even though it was all those days ago, she still remembered how tenderly he brushed her hair away from her face, tucking it back behind her ear. She still remembers the pad of his thumb, the one with flesh instead of metal, smoothing circles into her cheekbones. She watches as his lips move to form words and she is simply mesmerized, so enraptured by this man she can hardly breathe. 

 “I will be going away soon,” he told her then, his breath like the warmth of a fire against her face. Her eyelashes flutter as she looks from his lips back to his eyes, wading further into his ocean, as if she could convince him with a stare to stay, to anchor himself here, to her. 

 “But…” she shakes her head, tongue swiping between her lips and her hands slide from his elbows to his wrists. “…but you cannot…” she sighs frustratingly, unable to find her words. “…it is not safe for us. You cannot leave…”

 “Hey,” he whispers in only the way he can, in that way that has her resolve slipping, her knees trembling, her heart stuttering. The wind whips at their hair and their clothes and snow falls behind him but he is so warm, a warm glow in the midst of the storm. She grows warm, warmer in his hands and Anakin’s gaze drops to her quivering lips, the skin of his thumb soothing over her lower one. “You are fully capable of surviving without me,” he assures in a murmur that rolls like thunder in her chest. 

 She shakes her head. “But we are weak!” she protests. “We are not strong enough to handle this on our own. My uncle he…” she closes her eyes, sucks in a breath, tries to ease the unsteady beating of her heart. “…he is only getting older. He isn’t well. The storm is only getting stronger, and if they come… we—“

 “No,” Anakin shakes his head, steps closer, cradles either of her cheeks in the palms of his hands. “Don’t say you can’t.”

 She tilts her head in his palms, unsure of his meaning. “But Anakin, if they—“

 “They will not touch you,” he says and he speaks with a sense of finality, and she knows there would be no question, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. She knows that what he says is true. His hands tighten around her face and his gaze is strong, unyielding, piercing where it meets hers. He almost doesn’t seem himself, like there is some other version of him present. She isn’t sure what to think of it, but what she knows for sure is that she knows she must be safe, because Anakin says it is true. “I will not let anyone hurt you, do you understand?”

 He searches her gaze, awaiting her answer. She stares back, wondering how someone like him could be speaking to her like this, touching her like this, caring for her like this. To be loved by Anakin Skywalker was like being a snowflake, falling from the heavens, making its descent to the ground— every one was unique, but its uniqueness may only be discovered by those who look close enough. Not many cared to take the time out of their day to see her, but Anakin did. Anakin saw her and held her in a way he and only he could. To be loved by Anakin Skywalker was to be seen like nobody else had seen her. To be loved by Anakin Skywalker was a rarity of its own. 

 She nods against his palms, her lashes fluttering as her gaze drops to his chin, to his lips. 

 “What is it?” He asks, lowering his head, catching her gaze in his again. She sniffs, wringing a hand around his wrist. 

 “What if I do not see you again?” She asks. “How long will I have to wait to have you like this again?”

 It is a selfish thought, she thinks. They are in the middle of a war for Maker’s sake, and Anakin is one of the most important assets of it. It is selfish of her to want to keep him all to herself, to want to stay hidden in a permanent rendezvous, away from eyes, away from pain, away from war. The galaxy needed him, that, she knew. But she needed him too. She doesn’t know what she will do with herself, biding the time until she sees him again. 

 “But you will see me again,” he assures in a quiet murmur, his hands dropping from her cheeks to cup either of her hands between his. He presses his lips to one of her knuckles, then to another, and then another until they’ve all been graced by his kiss. Her knees feel like jelly and she is glad he is there to support her, because she feels like she can melt into a gooey puddle of magma at their feet despite the snow. “No matter how far, no matter the time, I will always find you. There is no place in the entire galaxy where you can be where I will not find you. We are bound to one another, you and I are. Even in death, I would claw myself out of the very earth to find you.”

 She feels the bitter sting of tears pooling in her eyes, because she knows they are running out of time, and soon, he would have to take leave. She will only have these words and the memory of his touch to satiate her, until of course he keeps his word and finds her once again. 

 Anakin’s eyes fall back down to her lips before he collects them with his in a searing kiss, the kindling of a promise left in his mouth’s wake when he pulls away. 

 “We will see one another again,” he murmurs and she believes him. She knows he will keep his word. “And perhaps, we will meet even sooner than you think.”

 Blue swarms and begins to morph into an angry, fiery red and she is once again back in Mustafar, staring at Anakin but not Anakin again. Sometimes when she thinks her Anakin Skywalker is truly lost, she need only remember those tender words he had said to her, the last time she saw him as he once was. She will then look at Darth Vader and tell herself that all hope is not lost. Darth Vader will say that Anakin Skywalker is dead, but she knows it is not true. 

 Because Anakin Skywalker once told her that even in death, he would claw his way out of the very earth to find her. 

 “Something troubles you,” she whispers and Darth Vader does not move but his eyes do. His blazing gaze falls to her lips, down her arms, all the way to her hands. She follows their trail and knows what it is he must crave. Sometimes when she thinks she must be afraid of him, she reminds herself that this is only a boy who is lost, misguided. She wonders, she hopes, if in time, he can be guided back onto the right path again. 

 Her hands move to find one of his, his left, where she knows she will still find flesh underneath. She glances back up at him to find he is staring at their connected hands, lips pursed, waiting for her to continue. She sucks in a breath and pinches the tip of his glove at the middle finger, slowly, cautiously pulling it away from his hand. Her palm circles to cradle the back of his hand and while he does not shiver, the locking of his jaw does not go unnoticed. 

 Even after all this time, he still craves for touch, her touch, and her skin on his. It makes her wonder if he still thinks about it too, all their secret rendezvous, their nights of passion, bodies tangled together with only the moons as their witness. She wonders if he still remembers the words he used to always say to her, the tender, sweet little nothings he’d whisper in her ear, the promises for a better future he made woven in the tendrils of her hair. If he still thinks back to that day she last saw him as Anakin Skywalker, if he still remembers the words he told her. 

 She thinks he must, because he still fulfilled his promise: he came back, no matter what. Only not the same, but perhaps more of the same than she initially thought. She sees the locking of his jaw, his craving for her touch he dare not speak aloud and thinks maybe it could be true. 

 “Let me help you,” she says, because she knows he has no desire to speak. Darth Vader lifts his gaze to find she is already staring back as she brings his hand up to her face, cupping her cheek. The pad of his thumb subconsciously soothes over her bottom lip and she shivers, the tenderness of his touch a stark contrast to his demeanor. She knows what she is offering is only a temporary fix, but it is a start, and it is an understanding she didn’t quite have before. 

 He still craves for her, he still wants her. She doesn’t know if she can call what they have love, not anymore, but there is still a want. She thinks that maybe this is her Anakin slipping through the cracks. She decides to hold onto this sliver all that she can. 

 She presses her lips gently against his thumb, maintaining eye contact all the while, unwilling to break it. The blazing amber in his eyes intensifies and in an instant, his lips are on hers, replacing his thumb. She releases a mixture of a yelp and a moan into his mouth, letting his tongue scour her, devouring her. He seeks to conquer her but he still kisses her with desperation, almost insecurely, but not like he’s unsure. It’s more like he’s waiting for her to push him away, to curse and spit at him like he believes (and perhaps, does) deserve. 

 But she doesn’t. How could she? It’s hard to differentiate Darth Vader from Anakin Skywalker when they are one in the same, even while being entirely different. He still feels like her Anakin, he still shares the same shell as her Anakin. He kisses her with a mixture of Darth Vader and just the tiniest fraction of Anakin Skywalker but he is there, he is still there. 

 So she presses herself further into him. His right hand finds the small of her back and presses her further into him, his kiss more determined, his touch more certain. She pants against his mouth as he uses his left hand to unclip his cape, the heavy material falling in a heap on the floor behind him. She feels the shoulders of her dress slipping down her arms but does not feel his hands there and knows he is using the Force on her. It alights a new sort of blaze she’s never felt before between her legs and as his left hand grips her chin and his kisses trail down to her jaw, she burns brighter than ever before. 

 Her eyes are screwed shut as he sucks angry marks to the line of her jaw, her fingers holding on tightly to his sleeves. She thinks she hears the door slide open behind them but the invisible hand working at her clothes unties the knot at the small of her back and Darth’s teeth sink into her collarbone so she does not care. Her head tilts back and she hears the faint sound of footsteps retreating, the door sliding back closed, once again leaving them alone. 

 “An… Ana…” she hears herself begin to pant but knows it is a mistake as soon as he pulls away from her altogether, her body, now nude, feeling cold with the lack of his against it. She peels open her lids and shudders where she stands as his gaze pierces through her as if it intended to melt her to the very ground she stood on. She thinks she very well can but she knows there is no use of running so she stays, awaiting her fate. 

 “The name you call is not mine,” Darth speaks and he reaches out with a hand, his left, and her body is not her own anymore and her mind flashes back to the day where he found her, when he used this very power on her to strip her of her own will. She presses her lips together as the Force brings her down to her knees, the ground biting into her bare skin. She does not cry, does not even struggle. She simply waits— she’s already offered herself to him and she knows that he will not hurt her. He cannot afford to. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself without her. Because Anakin is still there. There is still someone inside of him that loves her. “It’d serve you well to forget that man, because he is gone. Dead. I want to hear you say my name. I want to hear you scream it until hell fears me.”

 She hates the effect he has on her. She can feel herself pulse between her legs and she inhales, fluttering her eyes closed at how pathetic she must seem. Still wanting this dangerous, nefarious man. The man who murdered her uncle. The man who murdered her entire family. But yet, still the man who said he would cheat death to keep her safe. 

 Darth’s gaze intensifies and she feels a prodding in her mind, encouraging her, no, commanding her to comply. She gulps, and then, “Darth.”

 The invisible finger toying with the outside of her mind crawls away and her body once again feels like it is her own but still, she stays in her place on her knees on the floor. Darth Vader’s footsteps echo the room as he steps forward until he towers above her. She peers up at him through her lashes, watches as he crouches, pinching her chin between the thumb and forefinger of his gloved hand. 

 “Obedient girl,” he remarks, dragging his teeth over his bottom lip. “You will not defy me, lest you wish for it to be the last thing you do.”

 Her head nods before can even begin to think. She knows she would’ve complied regardless. The ache between her legs wouldn’t allow her to act otherwise. It was disgusting, lusting after this man who swears he will be her demise. But he has a way of making her insatiable, unlike herself.

 “Good,” he says before he pulls away and she watches as he circles the center of the room, setting himself down into the throne in the middle, legs spread, waiting. “Undress me.”

 She gulps down another moan, the words alone making her stomach somersault. She wastes no time to pick herself off of the floor, painfully aware of how naked she is as she makes her way over to where he sits. Even sitting on his throne, he is still bigger, still stronger than her. She feels meek, small against him as she begins with the shoulders of his armor, finding his eyes as she removes it, piece by piece. He taps his fingers against the arms of his seat as she unbuttons his tunic and before she can move to slide it down his arms, he waves a finger and her hands find his belt without their own accord. 

 She doesn’t move for a movement, only stares at him as he gazes back. He cocks an eyebrow, the one pierced with a scar, expectantly and she inhales sharply, her gaze sliding from his face down to his exposed, toned chest as she begins working at his belt. She tosses it away along with the heap of clothes on the floor and unbuttons his trousers, feeling her center throb at just how close she is to seeing what it desires. Her tongue swipes between her lips as she frees his cock from his pants, her breath hitching as she blinks at the angry pink tip peeking from his waistband. 

 “You test the limits of my patience,” Darth Vader says in an annoyed, clipped tone. “My cock will be your throne, but only if you make haste.”

 She blinks again and she feels a ball of acid at the base of her throat as she tugs his pants all the way down to his knees, finally allowing his cock to spring free. She can’t help but gawk, even if she’s already seen it more times than she can count. It’s large to say the very least and it is hard, ready, eager for her. She recalls just how large it is whenever she’s had it in her mouth, how each and every vein of it feels when it is buried so deeply inside of her. Sometimes, she can’t believe that it is all hers to have. Sometimes, she doesn’t feel worthy of it. 

 She realizes she is testing his patience again, only when she feels that invisible hand wrap around her throat, her own subconsciously reaching for them, although they are not there. Breath is stolen from her and she knits her brows together, mumbling a tight apology. 

 “You are merely fortunate that I am not in the mood for games today,” he says and the Force brings her forwards, her knees hitting his. He leans towards her until their faces are mere inches away, his breath rolling like smoke over her cheeks. “So do not push my mercy any further. Sit on my cock.”

 She feels every syllable of his last sentence in her core and the invisible hand remains on her throat as she manages to bring herself closer, her knees on either side of his thighs. He does not touch her, merely watches as she struggles to align his head with her center. When she finally does, he uses this invisible grip on her throat to push her down before releasing her altogether and she gasps for breath, eyes rolling back into her head, her head tipping towards the ceiling as a moan rips from her throat. 

 She can feel every pulsing vein of his cock against her walls, can feel her delicate cervix being bullied by his angry tip. Her hands search for his shoulders and when they do, her nails dig into the sleeves of his tunic, the bitter sting of tears escaping the edges of her eyes. 

 Darth hisses through his teeth and his left hand finds her hip, his skin warm against hers where it kneads. A curse tumbles past his lips and his other hand, still gloved, weaves through her hair, forces her forehead down onto his. She opens her eyes and sees his glaring gaze piercing through to her own. 

 “I don’t know how you do this to me,” he snarls. “I don’t know how only you have this effect on me. Only you can make me feel like this. Only you can make me…” Darth is unable to control himself so he snaps his hips up into her and she cries, more tears streaming down her cheeks. “…fuck!” He howls, tossing his head back against his throne. “You are destroying me. It’s not fair. How are you doing this to me?”

 He says this last thing with a hint of a vulnerability she’s never heard from him before. It’s almost desperate, like she really, truly is destroying him, paining him. It’s hard for her to try and understand what this means when he is fucking her into a state of mind-numbingness, but there is only one thing, one word, one name that she can even think of. 

 “Darth!” She screeches but it is not the name she thinks of. She thinks of Anakin, how perhaps this, she is the key to freeing Anakin Skywalker from the mask of Darth Vader. Because this, this Darth Vader is but a mere facade— they both know it to be true. It is not who he truly is. He can try and deny it all he wants. But there is nowhere in the entire galaxy where he can hide that she won’t find him. Because he is and will always be Anakin Skywalker. 

 She knows that Darth Vader will try and fight it. He will tear down the entire galaxy before he admits it. He will destroy planets and will bring down entire monarchies before he admits it. He will kill and he will burn and he will destroy before he admits it. But not even that will be enough to hide from it, to run from it. Because she is Darth Vader’s destiny. She is Anakin Skywalker’s destiny. She will be Darth Vader’s destruction. And she will be Anakin Skywalker’s redemption. 

 She is the key to bringing Anakin Skywalker home. 

a/n: another long one for anakin 🤭 i absolutely love writing for him, he's so complex and so fun to explore and create headcanons of my own for. i hope i was able to do him at least a little bit of justice here. sorry if this seemed a little too slow burn and if there wasn't enough smut to suffice 😭 i went in like "oh yeah this is gonna be absolutely filthy" but oh well! i find i write a little easier when i go in without much of a plan lol since i get carried away easily and usually just let my thumbs do whatever the hell they want anyways 😭 anywho! thank you so much for reading! it always warms my heart to know my writing is being seen by others! 🥹🫶

psst, i also want to thank each and every single one of you who read a place in the sea of stars. i was not expecting the feedback that fic received and i am still so overwhelmed by all the love all this time later. thank you thank you thank you a million times over from the bottom of my heart. 🥹🫶

💫 if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging or even leaving a reply to let me know! it means the world to me 🫶

TAGLIST

@your-nanas-house

@chaoticevilbakugo

@johnbassplayercutie

@arisksywlkr

@sydkneez

@sunnytotheend

[jinx-xxed]

Feral Desires

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*

A/N; This feels like a crazy jump from my first smut I posted lmfao 🫡 it was also crazy writing this, I haven’t written omegaverse in forever despite it being a favorite

Summary; You’re on a mission for the First Order, well away from your alpha, which means it’s the perfect time for your heat to start out of nowhere.

Content; NSFW 18+, AFAB reader, omegaverse, omega reader, alpha Kylo Ren, mated to Kylo, heats, ruts, nesting, fingering, piv sex, knotting, biting/marking, scent marking, breeding kink, A LOT of breeding kink, protective and possessive Kylo, also very loving Kylo, tiny bit of size difference kink, conservative views on omegas (mostly pertaining to suppressants), omegaverse terms (kids referred to as pups), fluff

Wc; 6.4k

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*

You thought it would be fine.

It should’ve been fine.

This wasn’t supposed to happen, gods, this was not supposed to happen.

Your heat was not supposed to start a month early right when you leave on a mission.

Everything had seemed okay at first; you gathered your troops after getting your assignment—investigate an uninhabited jungle planet’s surface and find out what the First Order could gleam from it. You had bid farewell to Kylo Ren, the Supreme Leader and also your mate. Through your bond both in the Force and in the bite mark on your neck, you could tell how apprehensive he was to let you go. It had taken some convincing, but he’d allowed it. If he wasn’t swamped in a million other responsibilities that come with his new position, he would’ve joined you.

The trip to the planet had gone without a hitch, and everything had seemed like it was in perfect order. You were the first to step foot on the surface once your ships’ doors had opened with a hiss of depressurized air. It was quite beautiful when you took it all in; covered in lush vegetation and impossibly tall trees covered in moss, a few of which your ships had unfortunately crushed on their way down. Sensors indicated that the air was nontoxic and clean so you had gladly taken a deep breath. Smells came stronger to you with your aberrant status, meaning you could practically taste the planet on your tongue. It was damp and full of the smell of wet leaves and bark, along with the reek of wild animals you didn’t know the names of. Said animals were calling through the trees in chirps and barks. It was quite nice.

Stormtroopers fanned out, beginning to take notes of anything that seemed of importance or interest. You and your lieutenant, a beta named Mallory who’d been by your side for many years, were in charge of placing down beacons and sensors that would give you every piece of data you’d need. It’d tell you what’s beneath the planets surface like ores and minerals and what kind of regeneration systems it had. It’d be a slow process; taking scans of an entire, huge planets surface wasn’t the easiest thing in the world. That’s why you were given a weeks timeline for this mission. Easy enough.

Until you’d gotten a prickling on the back of your neck, until an odd amount of sweat started to build at your collar, until you could barely hold on to your data pad because of how slippery your palms had become. You’d tried to ignore it, tried to ignore those telltale signs because surely your heat wouldn’t be starting now? Surely it wouldn’t have been catapulted forward a month because your body got confused by you leaving your alpha and was doing what it needed to in order to bring him back?

“General? Are you alright?” Mallory asks you.

You realize you’d been standing there looking at your data pad like an idiot while warmth and sweat builds beneath your uniform. You look up and try to blink the haze out of your vision. Suddenly all those smells from before are so overwhelming. “I think I need to go back to the ship.” You mutter. You’re not stupid, you do realize it’d be irresponsible to try and ignore this. Hell, you can’t even get yourself to take a step forward when all you want to do is go back to your ship where the scents are familiar.

Mallory tenses, noticing the flush in your face and the way your demeanor is so off. She may be a beta but she’s still able to recognize the onset of a heat, especially yours after being your lieutenant for so long. That’s why she goes with you everywhere, to keep an eye on you. She’s perfect for times like these. “Okay. Let’s go, quickly.” She says, a gentle hand on your arm guiding you back the way you came.

She says commands through a radio while you walk, instructing the next in charge—a fresh-face captain—to continue the observations so they can at least get something out of this. You feel guilt pierce through your roiling stomach, cursing yourself over and over for not being able to see a very simple mission to completion. It’s embarrassing. It makes you wish you were able to take your damn suppressants again.

You haven’t taken them for about three years, ever since you became mated to Kylo. As soon as that happened, all of your suppressants were tossed and every medic on the Steadfast was strictly forbidden to give you any. If any were discovered, you knew exactly what price they’d have to pay. Before all that, you’d taken them regularly to give you some peace aboard the ship and keep your position as general safe. People were more willing to trust you with things if your omega status was… muted. It was easier to ignore.

The only reason you really got to keep your job was because you were damn good at it and you kept being an omega from getting in the way, so nobody cared. It was simple. Then Kylo came along, discovered you were Force sensitive, began to train you, and you fell for him hard. You ended up becoming his mate, his teeth laying claim to the skin where your neck meets your shoulder, right where your scent gland starts. He bears a similar mark from your own teeth. He was gracious enough to let you remain as a general, even if every primal instinct he has tells him to keep you away from your job because it’s dangerous. All because he knew how upset it’d make you if he took it away, and because you’re actually competent.

However, it puts you in situations like this where you’re trying to fight off an oncoming heat while you’re on an unknown planet in an unknown space and your alpha is a galaxy away from you. You’ve learned that your status as an omega comes before your position as a general.

Mallory gets you back on to your ship that’s specifically assigned to only you two for your own safety. Never before have you been so grateful for that. She heads towards the cockpit immediately, taking her seat in the pilots chair and flipping switches. You slink towards the back of the ship, craving an enclosed space and cold air. Your heat hasn’t hit you full force yet, but you know it’s a matter of hours. You know it’s a matter of hours until your brain is pure incomprehensible mush, until your body is on fire, and until there’s a need inside so deep that it consumes your entire being and only one man can satisfy it.

It always starts out slow, with everything feeling just a bit too sensitive and your temperature rising. Then you feel it in every gland you have, a slight throb to them as your scent changes and pheromone production skyrockets. You get sweaty and those stiff uniforms the First Order requires feel like they’re boiling you alive—hence why you’re removing your jacket now. Next is the nesting, creating your own little safe space where nothing can hurt you and it’s only for you and your alpha.

It’s extremely difficult in a sterile, empty ship. You can feel your omega start to panic as it realizes there’s nothing to nest with besides your own jacket and a thin, scratchy blanket from an emergency kit in the ship. Nothing with Kylo’s scent, nothing to keep your alpha close, nothing safe, it’s not safe, oh gods-

You whine low and sad in the back of your throat as you hopelessly try and try and try to rearrange your two items into something satisfactory in your little corner. It doesn’t work of course. It only serves to send you into more of a frenzy, wishing for anything else, wishing you were back on the Steadfast, back in you and Kylo’s shared rooms where you could make as big a nest as you want with his full closet at your disposal. Comfy sheets, pillows, big capes covered in his scent… thinking about it is not helping.

The ship rumbles to life beneath you and you can feel its vibrations from how your body is pressed against the floor. The cold metal helps to keep the fever raging through you at bay. You’re curled in on yourself, your hands at your neck massaging your aching glands and the bite mark that resides there. It does little to soothe your pain but it’s all you have. You faintly hear Mallory talking, though it’s drowned out by the buzzing in your head. Until a familiar, deep voice crackles through the ships comms and has you sitting up immediately, your attention laser-focused.

“I want her back on the Steadfast immediately.” Kylo says. He sounds angry, livid perhaps. It’s enough to make you feel the need to submit despite the fact he’s not even mad at you. Hearing him does something to your bond akin to reigniting it across the distance between the two of you. It gives you the smallest bit of a connection to cling on to and you wrap yourself in it, enjoying it while it lasts. You can feel his emotions, his need for you like you need him. He’s angry he isn’t there, that he can’t provide for his omega like a good alpha should. He’s irrationally scared too—scared that something might happen to you, that some other alpha might try to get to you. He’s like a ticking time bomb, ready to go off on anyone he deems fit.

“Yes, sir, I understand.” Mallory says. She looks over at one of the monitors, pressing a few controls on the screen. “Based on what fuel remains and if I avoid active fuel preservation, it should take about five standard hours to reach your coordinates.”

Five hours. By the time you reach the Steadfast, you’ll be well intro the throes of your heat, accelerated by the fact Kylo isn’t there to help you. You haven’t had a heat without your mate for a long time and your body is not happy about it. A wave of depression and anxiety washes over you, your fingers digging into the blanket and threatening to rip it.

Kylo can sense that, sense how panicked and upset you are and it only makes his rage grow. He knows he can’t do anything about the length of your return trip and it makes him feel useless, like a sorry excuse of an alpha. You almost feel bad for the staff back on the Steadfast. “If anything happens to her, I’ll have your fucking neck.” He snaps, voice crackling through the comms.

Mallory takes the threat with neutrality. It’s nothing new to her. “Yes, sir. You have my word that I’ll keep her safe.”

Kylo calls your name suddenly and it has you stumbling to your feet and towards the radio. You grasp at the back of Mallory’s chair to keep you stable. “Alpha?” You ask, voice unable to hide your desperation.

“I’m sorry this happened. It’ll be better soon.” Kylo promises, his tone softening just a bit when he talks with you. “Be good in the meantime.”

You nod even though he can’t see it. “I will, alpha.” You’d do anything he asks.

With that, the radio clicks off and he’s gone. It felt like the only support keeping you upright was just ripped away from you, his presence in your bond fleeing and leaving you with nothing. It made your chest constrict and heat lick down your back, everything seeming to spin. Mallory rises from her chair after putting the ship on autopilot. “Go lay back down. I don’t want you to collapse.” She says. “And take these.” She hands you two bottles of water that were brought along in case of emergencies. You’re going to need them more than anything with how much fluid you lose during your heat. You down one of the bottles immediately.

You obediently take the other back to your “nest”, spending another ten minutes trying to rearrange your blanket and jacket. You eventually just give up and flop down with your knees tucked up to your chest, trying to ignore the ache across the entirety of your body. Your thoughts are still coherent at least, though you can feel them steadily slipping away. Your omega just wants Kylo, wants him more than anything. Wants his scent, his strong arms, his lips on your gland, his knot.

There it is. You whimper, your nails digging into your palms hard enough to draw blood as you feel the first trickle of slick seep into your underwear. Your breath comes out in pants that fog the metal paneling under you, your face feeling like it’s on fire. You writhe on your blanket, distracting yourself with movement and trying to find any kind of position that provides relief. Squeezing your legs together helps a little, putting some pressure on your clit and releasing more slick. You know this pair of underwear is going to be unsalvageable by the time this is over.

You can feel the slick start to stain your pants, creating a wet spot that’ll keep spreading. The ache has moved lower, now settling in your stomach and making you nauseous. Its comes in waves of cramps and hot flashes and gushing slick, creating a combination that feels like actual hell. You know that that’s how it’ll stay with the intensity increasing as the hours pass without your alpha inside you. You wish so badly you could just sleep the time away, close your eyes and open them again to Kylo there to take care of you. But you don’t feel safe enough to fall asleep. Your nest is shit, the ship is too unfamiliar, and you’re right at the beginning of your heat when you’re most vulnerable without your alpha who’s supposed to protect you.

These next five hours are about to be the longest of your life.

» ☆ «

Time passes in a haze.

A haze full of desperation, need, fire raging in your blood, and slick coating your thighs. Your vision is blurred, like a film was put over your eyes. You try to focus on the feeling of the ship underneath you instead of… anything else. The state of being in heat is all you know now, you don’t even remember what it’s like to not be making a drooling mess of yourself over the thought of your alpha’s cock sinking into your aching cunt.

Mallory has been trying to ignore you the whole time for her own sanity; your whines, moans, panting, and the desperate whispers of Kylo’s name passing between your lips. She’s stayed well away in the safety of the cockpit, focusing on just getting you both back to the Steadfast. Even though she’s a beta and has no specific inclinations, she can still feel the headiness in the air, sticking to the back of her neck and making her skin prickle. This isn’t anything particularly new to her, she’s been by your side for years. She knows what it means to be an omega.

That’s why she’s glad when a final jump through lightspeed sends her sensors beeping and the massive hulk that is the Steadfast appears at the top of the viewport. She keeps her hands from shaking by gripping the controls of the ship, guiding it towards home base. She has no reason to be afraid really, Kylo Ren wouldn’t do anything to her without reason after she’s proved to be so faithful, and he’ll be too focused on you anyway. Still, she can’t help the little kernel of fear in her chest as your ship is latched onto by a gravitational beam and power is taken out of her control.

All of the commotion breaks you from your stupor. You prop yourself up weakly on your elbows, your jacket and blanket soaked in slick in a heap under you from all your twisting and turning. Your face is flushed like the rest of your body, your remaining clothes stuck to your skin because of the sweat. From your place on the floor you can just barely see through the viewport, watching as the ship pulls into one of the hangars. You can sense him now. He’s so close. It’s too bad your legs are too weak to support you, otherwise you’d use them to run out of the ship to greet him.

You feel the ship shake as it settles on the ground and you hear the sounds of it powering down. Mallory rises from her chair to get to the ramp controls, a hiss of depressurized air sounding as it lowers. She steps aside and bows her head as he enters. Finally.

Kylo instantly commands the entire space around him as soon as he comes aboard the ship. It’s like everything else around him fades away because nothing else matters. His black robes do a perfect job of outlining the muscles beneath them, his fractured helmet covering his face and making him look akin to death itself. He locks onto you, you can feel it, and instantly there’s a whine coming out of your throat. Your mate is here, your alpha is here after you had to wait for so long. Your excitement is like a buzzing that encompasses your mind to the point you can’t think about anything else.

And then his scent hits you. It’s musky and heavy, amplified by his rut that was triggered by his omega’s heat. He smells like a campfire in fall, smoky and laced with something like cinnamon. When you inhale it, it’s easy to imagine being in the forests of his home planet with a nice fire to keep you warm. There’s undertones of your own scent mixed in from your mating, creating a nice combination of the two to let anyone know that you belong to one another. His scent instantly becomes the only thing you know and starts your heat all over again, fresh waves of slick pouring from your cunt and cramps seizing your stomach.

Kylo smells it, it slams into him like a freight ship, sending him reeling. He resists every feral instinct in him telling him to pounce on you right then, to pin you down and fuck your heat away, to finally take care of the constant bulge in his pants, knowing that he needs to get you somewhere safe first. Somewhere other alphas won’t be tempted by you, even if you’re mated. His scent on you sometimes isn’t enough to deter the most depraved; his hands clench into fists at the thought, the leather of his gloves creaking.

“Alpha… please..” you whimper, reaching your arms out towards him, needing so badly just to feel him, to touch him. You can barely think straight, the only thing in your head being him, him, him. He can’t deny you anything. The metal panels beneath his boots thunder with the power of his steps, it makes you quiver. Alpha is so strong, so capable.

“I know. I’m here now.” He says as he scoops you easily into his arms, voice crackling through the modifier in his helmet. It sends pleasant shivers down your spine. You can hear how ragged his breathing is, can feel it when his chest is pressed against your cheek. You cling to his padded tunic, the material familiar and comforting beneath your fingers. You become surrounded by his scent and it brings some relief to the pain you’ve been feeling, putting your omega at ease with your alpha finally with you.

You shrink yourself as much as possible in his hold as he walks down the ramp of the ship, your face buried against his arm. There’s a spike of anxiety in your chest once the bright lights and all the different smells of the Steadfast reach you; the sharp metal tang, the hints of sterile cleaning products, and then the sweat and musk of every aberrant in that hangar. It’s overwhelming when you’re fresh into your heat, but Kylo is quick to soothe you. His body produces more of his own scent to mask everything else, pheromones changing ever so slightly to have a more calming effect on you. He’s still not entirely used to the way everything about him is so tailored to you and only you even after all this time, but he loves the pride he feels when he successfully gets you to relax.

All of the workers within the hangar stay well away from Kylo. Nobody is stupid enough to approach the Supreme Leader and his mate with the state you’re in. It would only end up getting their heads detached from their shoulders. He’s given a wide berth while walking through the halls of the ship, taking whatever shortcuts he can to reach your shared rooms faster. Everything feels so hot, your breath coming out in pants and your clothes so unbearable because of the way they’ve been drenched in your fluids. You’re whimpering in his arms, sounding so sad and pathetic as your fingers knead into his chest. “I know,” he says again, softer this time, “I’ll make it better.”

There’s the beep of a control panel as Kylo gets the hydraulic doors to your rooms open, bringing you inside and letting them bang shut behind him. You’re greeted with fresh, cold air against your burning skin and comforting familiarity—your safe space. Kylo goes to set you down and you nearly wail at the thought of losing contact, not able to bear it after being without him for too long. “Just one second, I promise.” He tells you, laying a large hand against your cheek, the leather warm from the heat of his palms. You listen to your alpha like the good omega you are, standing there squeezing your legs together while he removes his helmet. His beauty always manages to enrapture you. His sharp features and pale skin dotted with freckles, the black waves of his hair that fall around his face. There’s a slight flush to his cheeks, his pupils blown wide with desire. He carelessly puts his helmet aside.

Then he’s on you. His lips press against yours, hot and needy and wet, his hands coming up to grasp each side of your face. You can’t help but moan into his mouth, your arousal spiking even higher from the urgency in his kiss. You’re surprised you can even produce more slick with how much you’re already covered in but you feel another wave of it drip down your thighs anyway. His tongue licks against your teeth, exploring your mouth that you’ve willingly opened for him.

His hands are heavy weights on your hips. He moves them down to cup your ass, then lifting you easily so your legs are wrapped around his middle. His raging erection presses slightly against your aching cunt and you gasp sharply as a shiver shoots up your spine, causing you to break from your kiss. You can’t help but try to grind down on it, creating a wet spot on his pants from your slick. He groans against you, trying not to drop you from the stimulation.

He’s quick to bring you into the bedroom, kissing you with more fervor. You manage a glance backwards and see just what Kylo’s done to your shared bed. You both barely make it to the haphazard nest he’d made for you in his own desperation, his mind wanting to protect a mate that wasn’t even there and driving himself insane over it. It’s full of dark blankets, pillows, and just about every article of clothing from his closet—soft tunics, capes, undershirts—piled onto the bed so it’s positively drenched in his scent. It’s absolutely heavenly as you fall back into it, surrounded entirely by your alpha. Kylo follows after you, shedding his clothes as he goes and merely adding them onto the nest, the scent of them fresh and potent.

“All for you,” he breathes against you, sticking his face into the crook of your neck, “everything is for you.” He inhales against your gland, tongue darting out to lick sensually at it. You squirm beneath him, moaning openly as your swollen, red gland is finally given attention. His bare hands slip beneath your white tank, pulling it up and over your body, the cold air making your nipples perk up instantly. Your pants and underwear are next to come off and you squeak when your slick becomes chilly against your skin.

“Fuck,” Kylo groans, “smell so good.”

“Alpha,” you whine, wrapping your arms across his wide shoulders to bring him closer, “alpha please…”

The ache and pain you feel is starting to become too much. You need him, you need him to fuck you, to pump you full of his cum and plug you up with his knot. Just the thought of it is enough to make your legs quiver and for your cunt to flutter. He knows exactly what you’re thinking of and he feels the need in himself just as much. He needs to take care of his omega, to make sure you won’t want for anything, and guarantee that you become swollen with his pups. A growl rumbles in his chest, his cock jumping at the idea.

His hand that was on your hip moves lower and he doesn’t hesitate to sink two fingers into your heat. They meet no resistance, sliding in and out with complete ease from the way your body has been preparing yourself for this for the last five hours. You throw your head back, mouth falling open at the relief you feel from finally having something fill you, cunt clenching in appreciation. The sounds your body makes are disgusting, copious amounts of slick being sloshed around by Kylo’s fingers. It’s wet and depraved and nasty and you’re enjoying every moment of it. He uses his thumb against your clit, rubbing back and forth and nearly making you scream. That combined with his mouth altering between the glands on either side of your neck makes it very easy for you to cum. Your body seizes, muscles constricting as pleasure wracks your body.

You can feel part of that fire within you finally die down, but it’s still not enough. There’s still an ache nestled deep inside you that his fingers can’t help with. “Please! Alpha, please, more..” you cry, grabbing at his arm to try and pull him up, to make him give you what you want so badly. You need his cock, the thing red and begging for attention, standing tall against his abdomen and dribbling precum.

His fingers withdraw from the warmth of your cunt and it makes you wince and whimper at the loss, your legs immediately trying to close and rub together in an attempt to get some friction. “What a desperate thing you are.” Kylo mutters, bringing his soaked fingers to his mouth and running his tongue along them to gather your slick. You’ve seen him do this countless times but it still has your face blushing furiously. He hums his delight. “Delicious, as always.”

He gets his hand under your back, scooping you up and flipping you onto your stomach. He tugs you towards him harshly, repositioning you like a doll so your ass is in the air, your face pressed against the materials of the nest. Kylo’s scent overwhelms your nostrils, heady and aroused. A mixture of slick and cum oozes from you, dripping down the lips of your cunt and your clit and onto the bed below. You wiggle your lower half, trying to entice him. “Please… need you..” you say, voice muffled by the pillow you’re currently hiding your face in.

Kylo’s hands run from your breasts, down your sides, and settle on your hips, the rough texture of his callouses making you shiver. “My beautiful mate.” He whispers, enthralled by your body as his eyes trace over it. The head of his cock prods at your entrance and you suck in your breath. You nearly sob as he sinks to the hilt inside your cunt not even a second after, your nails digging into the blankets below you from how full you feel. Kylo stretches you to your limit, getting so deep into you it’s like you can feel him in your stomach. He sighs in relief, his massive body bending over yours so his forehead rests against your shoulder. His chest is so warm against your back, his big muscled arms braced on either side of you. You’re basically caged in and pinned down, completely at his mercy. You couldn’t be happier. Your omega keens at the attention, at your alpha displaying his complete dominance over you.

His first thrust is bliss—sliding out of you almost entirely before slamming back in, his pelvis pressed sharply against your ass. He does it again, and again, getting steadily faster with each one until he’s built up a steady rhythm that has your entire being shaking with the power of it beneath him. Your mouth hangs open, drool falling from your lips, your eyes rolling back into your head. His grunts and groans and rumbles fill your ears, your own moans rising to meet them. He presses his lips against the gland that bears your bite mark, breathing you in again and moaning. “My mate, my mate,” he says reverently along your skin, “fuck- m’gonna fill you so good. You’ll give me pups, won’t you? You’ll make me a strong heir.”

“Yes! Yes, anything!” You wail. To your heat addled mind, nothing sounds better. Nothing sounds better than him filling you so full of his cum that there’s no way you don’t get pregnant. You want him so deep that he gets directly to your womb. You want to satisfy your alpha, you want to show him how obedient you are. Yes, you’ll do whatever he wants.

“My good girl.” Kylo praises, sucking your gland into his mouth and making you scream from the pleasure. It’s so shockingly intimate, warmth blooming in your chest and spreading along your body. He’s always been obsessed with your glands, even before you were mated. Your scent brings him so much comfort, such a feeling of home that he can’t stay away. He has his nose buried in the crook of your neck whenever he can and he it turns him on when he’s able to get his tongue on them. Your scent sticks to the roof of his mouth, it becomes the only thing he knows, the only thing he can taste. He fucking loves it.

“So good, sweetheart.” He gasps, sweat dripping from the ends of his hair. He watches where his cock disappears into your cunt, entranced. “Needed to fuck you so bad..”

If your brain wasn’t pure mush right now, you’d agree with him. But you can’t think with the way his cock is splitting you open, each thrust piercing your cunt and hitting that spot right at the top that seems impossible to reach without him. It makes it feel like lightning is igniting your blood, your vision flashing white. You didn’t realize how hard you were gripping the blankets until his large hand perfectly eclipses yours, his fingers slipping between your own so you hold on to him instead.

You hear his growl by your ear as his thrusts become more erratic, knowing he’s getting close. His free hand reaches under you to your clit, fingers playing with it roughly. He’s going to make sure you go along with him. You jerk from the added stimulation bordering on overstimulation from the constant pounding of his cock and the sensitivity from you already cumming once. Your moans get louder and louder, punctuated by each thrust he gives you, breaking in the middle and becoming more high pitched than usual. Your breath is pushed from your lungs, the pillow beneath you is soaked in drool.

“Mmn, shit-“ Kylo groans. He sounds drunk when he talks, his words slurred by his rut and pleasure. “Gonna give you pups. M’gonna knot you, you’ll be so good. My perfect mate.”

Yes, yes that sounds like everything you could ever want. “Please, please! Please alpha I need you-“ you beg, finally finding some semblance of your voice. “I need your knot!”

Kylo grunts his acknowledgment, his thrusts picking up the pace as he teeters on the edge. Then you feel it. Swelling begins at the base of his cock, steadily getting bigger. His movements are forced to slow along with it, becoming more and more restricted as his knot grows. Just as you feel like he’s stretched you to the brink, he lowers his head and sinks his teeth into your bonding mark. You scream. You scream so loud you wouldn’t be surprised if someone walking by outside your rooms heard you. Your vision is pure white, you feel like you can’t breathe, and you feel such a deep connection to Kylo in that moment that it pushes you over the edge. You cum harshly around his cock and his knot, cunt spasming. He cums at that same moment, hot ropes of his seed coating your walls white and his knot plugging your hole to keep it all in.

Neither of you move for a good minute because quite frankly, you’re not able to. The aftershocks are enough to keep you frozen, simply panting and trying to catch your breath. Your entire body is buzzing with pleasure and it feels like you’re floating in the clouds. Kylo is the one to come-to first, getting his arms under you to flip you both on your sides so that he’s spooning you, chest pressed firmly against your back and his big body practically engulfing you. The movement jostles his knot and makes more cum spurt from his cock and it sounds like he chokes on his breath.

He sighs, kissing the back of your neck before shifting his attention to your bond mark. Kylo’s tongue runs over it soothingly, almost like an apology for biting you. He just felt the primal need in him to refresh the mark, to let anyone else know that you belong to him. With the way you’re absolutely covered head to toe in his scent, you think everyone across the galaxy will know. “You okay?” He murmurs once he’s satisfied.

You nod, even though it feels like too much work. “Mhm.” You’re exhausted. Your heat was completely fucked out of you… for now at least. You know it’ll come back in an hour or two, ready for the same thing all over again. At least your alpha will be with you this time.

“You did so good, sweetheart.” Kylo says, his voice so full of love and adoration for you. He kisses along your jaw to the back of your ear. “My sweet omega.” You love his praise, you love the moments after when he’s so soft and gentle with you. It makes you feel so safe and happy, like you have everything you could ever ask for. And you do, really, because he’s so willing to get you anything, to provide you with everything.

He’s quiet for a moment before kissing your gland again. You can tell something was bothering him. “Never should’ve let you go on that mission.” He mutters, anger biting at his tone. “I should’ve known it was too close.”

“It’s okay. I didn’t expect it either.” You say, taking his hand that had been wrapped around your waist into your own. “It’s fine now.”

“I could feel when you were going into heat,” he continues, burying his face in your neck to remind himself that you’re here, “I could feel it and I wasn’t there… it drove me fucking insane. I needed to get to you.”

You can only imagine how it affected him, sensing you across the galaxy and being so incapable of helping you at all. You get glimpses of those past emotions through your bond; how angry he was, how agitated and scared. He’s far more attuned to the Force than you are, so it was much easier for him to connect to you than it was for you to connect to him. He had to just stand back while you suffered.

“Kylo, it’s okay.” You murmur again, bringing the back of his hand to your lips to break him from his thoughts. “I’m here now. You took care of me so well. You built such a good nest.”

That seems to calm him down. “I did? I just threw what I could on to the bed.”

You nod. “It’s far better than what I had in that ship.” You nuzzle into the soft materials. “Good for pups.” Just the mention has his cock throbbing inside you and pushing out more cum, as if making sure that that actually happens. You both groan.

Once he’s done, you sigh contentedly and look around. “Though… maybe just a few things could be fixed.” You say, reaching out to fix said things as you do. They’d been bothering that primal part of you that enjoys the nesting for a while. A pillow was just a bit out of a place, a blanket wasn’t fluffed up enough by just a tad, and one of his capes was just slightly askew. It makes you feel kind of crazy, but it puts your mind at ease. The whole thing has Kylo chuckling.

He brushes hair back from your face. “You should rest while you can.” He orders. “You’ll need it.”

You’re already starting to feel drowsy again, so you can’t even argue. The low, rumbling purr that’s started in Kylo’s chest adds to it. It’s such a soothing sound—just like a cat’s purr, instantly making your body relax against him. You can feel the vibrations from it reverberated in your back. You curl up as best you can in his hold with his knot still in you, his strong arms secure around your middle. There’s no need for a blanket because Kylo keeps you plenty warm—he’s like your own personal heater.

Laying there in your big, comfy nest with your alpha holding you close and his scent all around you, with your heat finally satiated… it’s so, so easy to fall asleep.

[blxkstar]

I made a playlist for Mos Eisley Cantina on Tatooine! Please check it out!

Mos Eisley spaceport. You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy.

[natertaterrr]

Buckethead - 2

Ok so, here's another one! It's much shorter, but I hope you like it!

Word Count: idk like, 1.7k or something

The testing lab hums with activity, engineers rushing to finalize the prototype for flight trials. You’re deep in analysis, checking last-minute details when the overhead comm crackles to life.

"Unexpected field test required. Modified TIE fighter deployment initiated. R&D personnel—prepare for immediate response."

You exchange a glance with J-7. There’s no hesitation—within minutes, you're both en route to the hangar, where the prototype is being prepped for real-flight testing. But there’s a problem. The pilot assigned to the test refuses to take the fighter out, citing unstable readings from previous diagnostics.

The officer overseeing the project turns to you. "We need someone to run a controlled flight test. You designed the adjustments—are you confident enough to prove they work?"

The challenge is clear. You hesitate for half a second before nodding. "I can do it."

J-7 steps forward, unexpected determination in his stance. "I’ll go with her."

You don’t have time to question it. Minutes later, you and J-7 climb into the cockpit of the modified fighter. It’s cramped, the console unfamiliar but responsive under your touch. He slides into the co-pilot seat with ease, his movements precise.

As the engines fire up, your pulse quickens. "Hope you can handle the ride," you tease.

J-7 chuckles. "Just don’t get us killed."

The launch sequence initiates. The fighter surges forward, leaving the hangar behind. Adrenaline rushes through you.

Outside, the stars stretch endlessly—cold, beautiful, and vast. The modified TIE fighter slices through the void, its systems humming beneath your fingertips as you push it further into real-flight conditions. Every adjustment you made, every recalibration—it’s all on the line now.

J-7 stays silent, his gaze flicking between the displays and the star-speckled abyss outside. It’s only when you execute a tight roll—seamless, controlled—that he exhales

You smile, keeping your focus on the controls as you yourself exhale with relief

Soon after, a warning light flickers. Your stomach tightens as you assess the alert—stabilizer calibration is fluctuating under real-flight pressure. Not catastrophic, but it demands action.

You adjust the settings, fingers flying over the controls. J-7 notices, his voice low but sharp. "You seeing this?"

"Yeah. Minor recalibration issue—shouldn’t be a problem." Your voice is steady, though your pulse kicks up a notch.

There’s a brief pause before he says, "You trust your own work?"

You glance at him. The question isn’t mocking—it’s measured. A test of confidence, maybe. You nod once. "I wouldn’t be in this cockpit if I didn’t."

J-7 watches you for a beat longer, then shifts his focus back to the displays. "Then let’s see it through."

The words feel heavier than they should, something unspoken settling between you. Trust—real trust—isn’t given lightly, but in this moment, in this cockpit, it’s beginning to take shape. 

The silence between you stretches, filled only by the hum of the engines and the rhythmic blinking of the instrument panel. The stabilizer alert fades as your recalibration holds, but J-7 remains quiet, scanning readouts with professional focus. You bring the TIE fighter back to the hangar and dock it before exiting back onto the Death Star with relief that you only encountered one minor issue during the flight test.

The lead technician makes a few notes before saying, “That’s enough work for today you guys, take the rest of the day off. Good work today.” 

You exhale with relief and go back to your office to grab your things.You look up to see J-7 had followed you to your office and was standing in the doorway. You look at him with slight apprehensiveness and say, “I meant to ask you…what brought you to the testing lab?

J-7 shifts slightly, hesitating just long enough for you to notice. His stance is measured, his expression unreadable, but there’s something behind his gaze—something he hasn’t said yet.

“I wasn’t supposed to be here,” he admits, his voice quieter than before. “At least, not originally.”

You raise an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “Then why did you come?”

J-7 exhales, glancing toward the corridor before stepping fully into your office. He closes the door behind him, the motion deliberate. “Because I knew you’d need backup.”

The simplicity of the statement catches you off guard. You expected a more technical reason—a last-minute assignment, a directive from command. But no, this was personal.

“You knew the prototype might fail?” you ask, watching him carefully.

He shakes his head. “Not exactly.” His eyes meet yours then, steady. “But sometimes, even the best calculations don’t account for the unexpected.”

A beat of silence stretches between you.

“So you volunteered?”

J-7 smiles faintly, shrugging. “Something like that.”

You study him for a moment, the weight of his words settling in. He chose to be here, to watch your back, and you’re starting to realize that means something.

Something you’re not quite ready to define.

Your fingers tighten slightly around the datapad in your hands before you finally nod. “Well... thanks.”

J-7 grins. “Don’t mention it.”

But you know this moment isn’t one you’ll forget anytime soon.

You smile at him as you exit your office and start heading back to your room, and he leaves to execute his own orders. You make your way down the corridor to your room and immediately change into comfier clothes and sink onto the bed. You stare at the ceiling for a bit, thinking about the day’s events.

A few weeks to a month later. Idk just enough to time for y’all to have a relationship of somesort where you hang out frequently and eat together ig. I don’t feel like writing all that plot, and if you don’t like it, you can read a different stormtrooper fic. Jk, no you can’t. You’re probably not here for a super sturdy plot anyway. So enjoy this timeskip brought to you by my left, non-existant, testicle:)

A month had passed since the flight test, but the memory of it never quite faded. The modified TIE fighter had performed well enough in subsequent trials, its design tweaked based on the data gathered that day. Engineering life aboard the Death Star remained steady, the hum of system diagnostics and recalibrations filling the days with routine precision.

And yet, one detail remained anything but routine—J-7.

At first, his presence seemed incidental. A passing glimpse in the corridor, an occasional nod of acknowledgment during security briefings. But as the days blurred into weeks, you noticed a pattern. He wasn’t stationed near engineering, yet somehow, he always had an excuse to be around—an escort duty, a perimeter check, a vague security review. He never lingered long, never made it obvious, but the frequency of your encounters didn’t feel coincidental.

Then, one afternoon, the pattern broke.

You were reviewing diagnostics in the testing lab when a comm alert flickered to life.

“Testing personnel, report for security debriefing. Incident in bay five.”

Frowning, you locked your terminal and made your way toward the briefing room. When you arrived, J-7 was already there, arms crossed, helmeted gaze unreadable. The officer leading the briefing wasted no time—an unauthorized modification had been made to a TIE fighter scheduled for deployment. Nothing drastic, but enough to raise concerns. Someone had bypassed standard protocols.

“We need to know who had access,” the officer said. “If this kind of interference continues, fleet integrity will be compromised.”

You glanced at J-7, catching the subtle tension in his stance.

After the meeting adjourned, you caught up to him in the corridor. “Something’s bothering you.”

His voice was low, modulated by his helmet. “People are starting to take risks. Ones they shouldn’t.”

The words hung in the air between you.

Before you could respond, another voice called your name. One of the engineers from your sector motioned toward the mess hall. “Lunch?”

You blinked, glancing back at J-7. “You eaten yet?”

There was a pause. Then, to your mild surprise, J-7 nodded. “Not yet.”

The mess hall was crowded, personnel coming and going in waves between shifts. You grabbed a tray of standard rations, seating yourself at one of the quieter tables. J-7 followed, setting his own tray down across from you.

Then, without ceremony, he reached up and disengaged the latches on his helmet, pulling it off with a smooth efficiency. He set the helmet beside him, rolling his shoulders slightly before grabbing his fork.

You found yourself studying him a little too long, enough that he noticed. “Something wrong?” he asked between bites.

You came back to and shook your head, “No. No, sorry.” you said flushed. “It’s just…still weird seeing you without a helmet…”

“I look weird?” He asked with a sly grin. 

“No!” you say, feeling bad, but you see his grin and give him a look of knowing. “That’s not what I meant and you know it!” 

J-7 chuckled, leaning back slightly as he popped another bite of food into his mouth. “Relax, I’m messing with you.”

You rolled your eyes, but the flush on your face remained. “Yeah, well, maybe warn me next time before you pull off the helmet and make it weird.”

He tilted his head, amused. “Pretty sure I did warn you, we’re eating.”

“That’s not the same thing,” you muttered, stabbing at your food with more force than necessary.

J-7 watched you for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, with an air of casual ease, he rested his forearms against the table. “You act like I’m some great mystery, but I’m just a guy who follows orders.”

“That’s a very stormtrooper thing to say.”

“Would you prefer something more poetic?” He smirked. “‘Beneath the helmet lies a tortured soul yearning for freedom—’”

You burst out laughing, cutting him off. “Alright, now you’re just being dramatic.”

J-7 shrugged. “Hey, you’re the one making a big deal about seeing me without the helmet.”

You sighed, shaking your head with a small smile. “Fine. You’re right. It’s just… I guess I got used to talking to the helmet, and I know we eat together all the time but it’s just so…surreal.”

He lifted his tray slightly. “Well, if it makes you more comfortable, I can put it back on.”

You smiled at his words. “No, weirder. Definitely weirder. I don’t wanna see you try and eat with a helmet on.” I chuckled. “Besides, I’d rather see your face that shows your expressions than a helmet everone has to wear.” (sorry to you mask kink girlies)

His expression softens a little with your words and the banter settled between you, easy, natural in a way you hadn’t expected. As you both finished eating, he slid his helmet back into place with practiced efficiency. “I guess this is the part where I pretend like I wasn’t here,” he mused.

You smirked. “Well, if anyone asks, I was just having lunch with a mysterious masked enigma, yearning for freedom.”

J-7 stood, picking up his tray. “Good luck explaining that on the next security review.”

As he turned to leave, you found yourself watching him a little longer than necessary—just like before. 

He really is quite attractive. That's it! There she is! I'm honestly not super sure where to go from here so if y'all have suggestions, let me know. If you have requests let me know as well! Lots of loveee <3333

[muntitled]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬

Pairing: Kylo Ren x Fem!Reader

Summary: "Kylo was nothing if not a sadist,"

Warnings: Language, WarPrisoner!Reader, Toxicity, Weaponizing Hux, Humiliation, God Complex, Jealousy, Possessiveness, Smut +18 (Minors DNIA, DEAD DOVE FIC, Dark fic, Sadism, Masochism, Inexperienced!Kylo, Ownership Kink, Dry humping, Forced sex, Spitting, CNC, Dubious Consent, Massive Degradation Kink, Inappropriate Use of Force, Choking Kink, Size Kink, Impact Play, Groping, Breast Play, Premature Orgasm, Controlled Orgasm, Dom/Sub themes, Dom!Kylo, Sub!Reader, Brat Tamer!Kylo,;Bratty!Reader, Slight!Exhibition Kink, Humiliation Kink, Inappropriate Mind Reading, Overstimulation, Dirty Talk, Mentions of Rape, Fingering, Rough Sex, Dacryphilia, Gagging, Subspace.

Do not read this if you're incredibly sensitive to violent imagery. If this doesn't make sense don't say anything or i'll cry <3

As Hux walks diligently ahead of you, you could not tell by his tense shoulders and his palms clasped behind his back that he was following the duties of a madman.

While he escorts you, Hux thinks back to his slip-up with Ren.

The way he shouldn't have mentioned your name in a comprehensive report about the overall running of the Starkiller. The way he should've known how dangerous Kylo is when it comes to anyone taking even the vaguest of interest in playing with his toys.

"Despite having the accolades of an established pilot for the resistance," Hux had said moments earlier when Kylo was pacing up and down his private chamber, "Your prisoner refuses to put any of her skills to use aboard the Starkiller. She's essentially useless dark matter," He uttered his words rather clumsily. As if forgetting he was reporting to a beastly excuse of a man.

Hux only realises his mistake when Kylo stops his various pacing to turn slightly. His unmasked head tilts to the side as he advances on Hux in a low, large gait. Everything about the boy being so unnaturally large.

"My prisoner?" He steps closer, "Or the First Order's?"

Kylo's laugh appears unnatural without the mask. Not any less intimidating but certainly, frighteningly human.

"You act as if my will is not synonymous with that of the First Order, general," Kylo's blood runs fucking cold at the thought, "You insinuate that I keep her here out of my own free will,"

"Well, we all know how much a boy fancies his toys," Hux's degradation causes Kylo's Adam's apple to bob and a deep frown settles over the boy’s face. Whatever weakness Hux was accusing him of, it rattled the foundations of his already fragile ego and Hux smirked.

"Go tell her I wanna see her," the first command left Kylo's lips in a fairly controlled and monotonous manner. The second however... "FUCKING NOW!"

Robotic inclination bleeds from the mask of the stormtroopers “Yes Sir-”

Without sparing the stormtroopers so much as a single glance, Kylo spat, "Not you, fucking degenerates," Kylo stares Hux down as he steps towards him. His voice is ice cold. "I want you to summon her," he takes immense pleasure in the way Hux's smile drops.

Kylo has observed the glances Hux throws your way and it makes his fucking stomach turn. He's seen the uncomfortable leering and the lecherous thoughts. Kylo was nothing if not a sadist. Humiliating Hux using the object of his desires.

He wants you and that makes Kylo want you even more... Violently so

"Where are you taking me?"

You could feel the rest of the crew watching your every movement as you trailed behind General Hux like you were compelled to do so by some unseen leather leash. You cannot help but feel as though you have done something very bad and very naughty.

You try to rid yourself of these thoughts immediately.

Perhaps he was taking you to see the vermin underneath the mask.

That thought should not sprout such a deep desire within you. Kylo was your captor and yet, he fascinated you more than anything ever could.

"At least slow the fuck down," You breath out, trying by all means to evade all eye contact with curious onlookers.While you walk you try to keep your head high and appear unaffected by their piercing glares. Every stormtrooper, navigator, pilot- even down to the measly technicians all keep their eyes trained on you and you glare back. Leering your head forward with narrowed eyes because being held captive on the Starkiller was punishment enough. You would never allow yourself to be intimidated by the judgemental stares.

"Do you ever plan on disclosing our destina-"

You're interrupted by a sharp and loud hiss before two doors part. Your eyebrows furrow before you're dragged into the chamber, quite literally against your will. You did not wish to get acquainted with any more rooms on the Starkiller. Hoping that one of your comrades in the resistance might have saved you long before you ever had to make this ship your dwelling place. But you've only crawled deeper into the Starkiller's core and you find yourself here, standing before him in his black cowl with his hands clasped behind his back.

The room is as lifeless as the rest of the vessel. The bed, colourless and hard. The only signs of vibrance is the east window depicting a slab of stars in hyperspace.

"I am told you've made yourself fiercely unlikable in the flight deck.” Kylo says, completely ignoring your slightly shocked experience at seeing him without his helmet.

“That's what this is then?” You turn briefly to make eye contact with Hux before turning to Kylo with one arched brow, “I'm being scolded now?”

“You're insolent when given any orders,” he oaces before you while Hux stands behind you by the door, “You disobey at every given turn and you're resistant. Vexingly so.”

“How clever of you, it seems as though you'd only just discovered a key characteristic from a member of the resistance.” You say with a smirk, “Clever, Clever boy."

“It's that mouth of yours that's gonna get your head slain from your very shoulders.” Kylo advances you like a midnight storm and you fight to stand your ground.

“I have grown terribly bored of this place,” You say, “Perhaps even death might be more eventful then whatever you are, Kylo.”

Before Hux is able to make his escape Kylo grabs at your throat, encircling his hand around your skin like a vice until he is forcing you to look at Hux ahead of you.

"This is what you want?" He isn't speaking to you but to Hux, pushing your cheeks together in a painful display of humiliation. "This is what's been plaguing that mind of yours-"

"I've no time for this-"

The very last thing Hux is able to see before he leaves Kylo's quarters, is your frightened eyes and Kylo looming behind you. A mere mouse being imprisoned by a God.

You make the mistake of thinking that Hux's absence might soften Kylo's resolve, but your time as his captive should have let you know that there was nothing soft about this man. Nothing at all.

"You should be grateful, you know that?" His lips graze your head and you're suddenly hyper aware of his proximity.

You're hyper aware of the closed metal doors that were probably being guarded by a pair of heavily armed stormtroopers. There is no escaping the clutches of this monster behind you.

And yet; you still find yourself scoffing, "I should be grateful?" You ask, hoping to assimilate every shred of confidence you had left, "I should be grateful to be your prisoner-" you wince when his grip on your jaw tightens and he's wrenching your face until you're craning your neck backwards to face him.

Large, looming, and completely fucking livid.

"You should be grateful that you're still fucking breathing, you brat-"

And then, a very strange thing occurs.

Since the moment Kylo had wrangled you off your home planet, you had sworn to be nothing but defiant. In honour of everything you stood for, you would never let him see you weak and yet here you are, carelessly allowing the faintest of whimpers to slip through quivering lips.

The sound confuses Kylo initially. In fact, he cranes your head back further, not caring whether you were comfortable or not as he bends down, appearing to inspect your mouth for that peculiar sound further. He squeezes your cheeks lightly, prodding the round tissues of fat as if fervently trying to search for whatever button might allow for that little sound to spill from your lips again.

"How completely and utterly curious-"

"You're fucking hurting my neck-" the fire returns and with it, comes your will to wrench your face out of his grip. You're only able to get free because he lets you and you know this.

"What..." Kylo bends even lower towards you and you turn your head to face the blank wall ahead of you. Evading eye contact with this man was nothing if not crucial. "What was that sound you just made-"

"It appears as though hearing nothing but the cries of utter doom and damnation has defamiliarized you to the sound of pleasure, Ren-"

Your breath is wiped clean from your throat not even a second later when you steal a look downwards at a gloved hand interlocking itself around your throat once more. Seemingly his favourite place.

"All the praises that could fall from your mouth..." Kylo drawls before pressing himself firmly against your backside, "All that you could say to worship the hand that feeds you and you still choose to be insolent-"

You try to escape his death grip but he doesn't let you out this time around. All you can do is be thankful that he had the decency to allow you to breathe.

"That's all you fucking know how to do right," Kylo's lips are at your ear and your knees buckle. "Insolence. Insolence. Insolence." Your legs give out, but before you're able to topple to the ground in a puddle of your own lustful perversions, his other hand curls around your waist, keeping you firmly pressed against his front.

“Today's the day you fucking obey," he whispers, "Understand?"

"I-I-”

Kylo is not sure how he does it, or why he does it, or where he got the understanding to do it, but his hand makes its very slow descent from your collarbone, to the spot right above your pillowy breasts. Clad in nothing but your knee length tunic, a garment stitched with fibres indigenous to your homeplanet, you suddenly feel incredibly naked and incredibly exposed. What was once an act of rebellion, is now your undoing.

"There is a way to make you disobey isn't there?" You can hear him becoming excited. "Every cattle has their price. What's yours?" Before you're able to turn and possibly beg for some sort of mercy, he's already in there. The stuff Kylo sees digging around in your mind, is enough to have him staring off into hyperspace. His eyes are trained on nothing at all as he rapes your most memories and most private desires. All while drawing you impossibly closer, until his mouth was buried in your hair and his hand was closing around your left breast. You squirm underneath him until finally, he's released from your stupor.

You did not dare turn around to look at him, in fear of seeing his dark eyes dilated with enlightenment.

"How barbaric." He whispers. "That's what I have to do in order to get you to listen to me,"

"I-I don't know what you're-"

"Open your mouth." Before you're ever able to interject even a single word, Kylo's hand is digging into the skin of your jaw, "Do I have to do it for you- open your mouth-" He wrenches your mouth open and cranes your neck back once more.

"That's it," You're absolutely frightened to see the violence that has darkened those irises. This is the look that's shielded behind the mask during times of battle. This is that look no one got to see.

Yet here you were.

"You're so fucking filthy, you know that?" You're nodding before your brain is aware of it, "You're a filthy, perverted little creature," one by one, your inhibitions slipped away from you until you could feel yourself become completely and utterly dumb for him. Your mind becomes a tabula rasa as Kylo bends his heavy frame downwards, spitting directly into your open mouth. There it is. That whimper he wanted to hear so badly.

You're not even aware of his hand reaching around your front until he's parting your legs with determination. "Is this where you want me?" Your mouth hangs open and you look up at him glassy doe eyes as he cups your drenched heat. Kylo locks his full lips and presses his front impossibly closer to your backside. "This whole time I've needed to get you in line, and the answers been here this whole fucking time?" A gloved hand swipes your underwear to the side and the wind is completely knocked out of you when Kylo pushes his fingers in immediately. He fucks his fingers into you with zero restraint and zero preparation, and the roughness has your eyes nearly rolling to the back of your skull as you grow limp in his grip. Lucky for you he's so large, lucky for you he might as well be a stone wall behind you, letting you lean against him with your long legs spread wide for his absolute assault.

"Look at me." He says, holding you against him by your throat while his index and middle finger violate your soaking cunt. Despite his orders you're still a drunken, blundering mess with half lidded eyes, promising to keep you locked away in your pleasure.

"If you don't fucking look at me, I'll stop and you'll suffer." He squeezes your clit quite painfully, immediately bringing you out of hedonistic stupor-

"FUCK- WHAT THE FUCK-"

"Do you want me to stop?" He asks, with a note of cockiness that had your brows furrowing.

"Are you stupid?! Of course I don-" before the curse could even escape your mouth in its entirety, Kylo's blocking out your airways. You fight to scratch at his gloved grip around your throat but his grip is fucking metallic.

"Look at how docile you look when you're not running your mouth,"

Your insides were screaming for oxygen, yet your hips rut against his hand. Kylo slyly adds a third finger inside your slippery cunt. "What a whore," he whispers, causing you to fuck forward against his hand, nearly humping yourself to completion as the blood flow to your brain seems to stop completely. You need oxygen and you need to cum. You just don't know which you need more.

"You're nothing but fucking filth-"

Your mouth opens to let a moan escape but it never does, and Kylo watches your struggle with a pained expression of his own.

"F-Fuck, I've never seen anything so vile-"

You were slipping. Whether it was into unconsciousness or an orgasm you couldn't tell. "If you pass out I will fuck you," he whispers, "There's not fucking escaping me-"

And in that very moment, Kylo unlocks the invisible grip on your airways and suddenly you can breathe and cum. Almost immediately you're slipping into a violent, damn near supernatural orgasm that has you seeing every star in the known galaxy.

"F-FUCK- oh my-" You're rutting against his hand, tongue lolling out all while Kylo continues to fuck his fingers into your cunt.

"That's it," He whispers, "Cum for me, you useless fucking whore-" Every vile sliver of degradation causes a fresh wave of pleasure to roll through you until the first droplets of tears are rolling down your cheek.

"Don't fucking do that," he whispers, pulling you closer than ever, "Don't fucking do that unless you want me to fuck you right now-"

He watches the tears roll down your face and absolutely loses it. Now suddenly aware of his own cock aching in his pants.

"K-Kylo please-" You try to push his hand out of you but to no avail. "It's too much-"

But his eyes are shut, and your body is overcome by wave after wave of electrifying shivers. The pleasure quickly bleeds into the pain of being so heavily overstimulated but Kylo is lost in his own world now. He clutches you impossibly closer, mumering obscenities into your hair as he ruts against your ass and you fucking pray for it to be over. Your pussy is fucking spent and yet he's still keeping his hand there, as if driven by his own need to cum.

"You stupid fucking slut- look what you made me do-" He's rutting against your ass, eyes squeezed shut as his hips stutter, "F-Fuck-" the whimper that breaks his voice is utterly intoxicating and you find yourself slipping into another dry orgasm as Kylo pushes against you, cumming in his pants with various expletives falling from his pillowy lips. When your orgasm falls you beg him to let go of you and when he does, you topple to the floor.

Never in your life have you felt so weak. So spent. So utterly used.

Kylo does not spare you a glance when he turns around. "This is where you will reside from now on," he says with finality. Careful to let his voice relay how utterly broken he feels. Just as broken as you.

[rilalawrites]

postcard | lando norris

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

summary: from who fans thought were strangers, oblivious of each other’s existence, to posting soft launches reminding fans that they knew each other.

genre: fluff

( a/n ): this is my first time writing a fanfic esp a smau so pls don’t flame me whatsoever and credit to all pictures and creators of dividers :)

youruser

liked by oscarpiastri and others

youruser happiest place on earth w the happiest girl on earth x

yourbestfriend the prettiest😦 liked by creator

⤷ youruser aw thanks cool person💓

⤷ yourbestfriend no i was talking about the stormtrooper

⤷ youruser 😐

user8 AHHSJJWNSJA SHE FINALLY POSTED!!!

user2 oscar in the likes?? btw you are GORGEOUS GIRL

user10 that should be me sitting next to her.💔

user4 woah is this the beginning of a relationship we’re witnessing

user6 WHO. IS. THAT.

⤷ user13 her man i suppose😞

⤷ user7 what if it’s oscar since he liked it🧐

⤷ user12 im sorry but that does NOT look like osc😭

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lando

liked by maxfewtrell and others

lando already missing california

charles_leclerc mate you said you’d call me back not go to disneyland liked by creator

user15 he’s been nerfed were cooked

⤷ user19 my guy how do you know if he’s even dating somebody😭

user11 didnt @/youruser go to disneyland?🤔

carlossainz55 can you please stop talking about her now

⤷ lando i didnt even say a word about her😭

⤷ user21 TELL US RIGHT NOW

⤷ user14 WHO IS SHE CARLOS

maxfewtrell i will name drop right now

⤷ lando PLEASE DONT

user17 wait is it @/youruser

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youruser

liked by lilymhe and others

youruser thanks cameraman 🐅

lando you are very welcome liked by creator

⤷ user5 NO WAY

⤷ user16 I HAVE NOBODY TO TALK TO THIS ABOUT

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yourbestfriend what happened to mysterious🙁

user6 ou she’s active active

oscarpiastri are you guys dating now

⤷ youruser are you gonna keep your mouth shut now

user10 MY OARENTS OMG

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aaaa this was actually super fun to make considering i have zero motivation for almost anything 😭 but i hope u enjoyed this smau as much as i did. notes or reblogs are appreciated !

[rynwritesstuff]

How Bad Do You Want Me? - Kylo Ren x ResistancePilot!Reader

Kylo Ren x ResistancePilot!Reader

Warnings: NSFW (PIV Sex, unprotected sex, crying during sex lol), Banter, sassy Kylo Ren, sassy Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Summary: Before Kylo Ren was Kylo Ren, he was a padawan with you. Before you were a Resistance Pilot, you were a padawan with Kylo Ren. Now, several years later, you've found yourself in the clutches of the First Order, and, of course, Kylo himself.

A/N: May the Fourth be with you! I decided to celebrate my lifelong love for this series by writing some smut lol, as one does. In case you missed it, I created a sideblog (@rainbow-gelpen) so if you wanna see some non-writing shenanigans from me, head on over there for some fun. Otherwise, enjoy the oneshot <3

The room is cold, that is the first thing you note as you come to your senses. When you open your eyes, everything begins to come together in choppy, drawn-out scenes. 

The village, full and dark. The people, afraid and yelling. 

Lor San Tekka, with his small smirk.

Kylo Ren, lightsaber in hand. 

You startle at the image of him and jerk against the restraints on the interrogation chair. You look around the room. No Stormtroopers are in-sight, and you know immediately that this must be intentional. Stormtroopers are so small-minded, so easily manipulated . . . And, after all, Kylo Ren knows that you are a Force-user. 

Yes, he knows you could have Forced your way through Stormtroopers and escaped out of the base with, most likely, very little effort. Your fists clench at the knowledge, already beginning to feel angry with him. You wonder briefly, foolishly, if generals and officers will be sent in soon to try and force the information out of you. And then, you remember who you are dealing with. 

Kylo Ren will want to get it out of you himself. As, of course, a testament to the fact that he simply can. As proof that he knew you once and knows you still. If you know a person long ago – knew every part of them – that does not necessarily fade with time, does it? Perhaps bits and pieces go, but not whole parts. Kylo Ren is still Ben Solo. Ben Solo is still Kylo Ren. 

You stare at the door, willing it to open, daring it to open. You can feel his energy. It is getting closer. He’s so angry, so sad. You can sense it. Gods, you feel sick knowing just how infected he is. You wonder now, just as you have wondered everyday since he burned down the Temple you once shared, if there was ever anything to be done for him, and if you could have been the one to save him from himself. 

You shake your head. He didn’t want saving, he wanted power, and power is what he received. If it meant losing you, he didn’t care, did he?

. . . Did he?

Footsteps come pounding towards you. You still recognize the cadence even after all this time, after all these changes. You know who it is, and you set your eyes on the door again. The durasteel door slides open with a soft hiss, and there he is. Your jaw clenches, standing tall as the door slams down shut again. Kylo stands there for a moment. 

“It is really you,” he says. You glare at him. Anger swells in your chest, that very same anger that you carried with you all that time ago as you watched the Jedi Temple burn down. You remember looking for him, clawing through pieces of wreckage as you searched and called for him. And then there it was, his hand on your shoulder, and you can still remember how the relief felt when it coursed through you.

And yes, you can still remember the betrayal you felt when you realized what he had done. 

You hate that he still has this hold over you, this grip on your heart, your mind. Has nothing changed? Has time not cast its spell? Here he is in his dark clothes – a leather tunic, leather trousers, boots, a cape, a mask, gloves – and still a part of you feels like it has finally come home. 

“I had no idea we had the best pilot in the Resistance on-board,” Kylo speaks again. You don’t stop glaring. If this is the last thing you’ll ever do, you won’t go down easily. You’ll fight him, you’ll shame him, you’ll combat every remark. You owe him nothing, he owes you everything. 

You could have killed him, afterall. After you’d seen exactly what he had done to the Temple, to your fellow Padawans. People were yelling for you to stop him, to trap him, and you . . . Just let him go. You wonder sometimes, even now, how everything may have played out if you had sliced his leg or stalled him or whipped out your own lightsaber. 

There could be peace across the galaxy today if you had not loved him more than the future of your fellow civilians. 

He looks so strong, so powerful. You remember when he was younger, when his muscles weren’t quite so large and his shoulders weren’t so broad. You wonder what he looks like. Is he scarred? Mutilated beyond recognition? Is that why he wears this mask?

“You’re a coward,” you snarl suddenly, unable to stop yourself. Kylo crouches. You can sense the peculiar look on his face from beneath the mask. “Hiding behind a mask. You don’t even have the guts to look at me with your eyes . . . Do you?”

Hesitation. You sense it from him. How odd. 

Then, his hands are lifting and settling at the sides of the mask. He presses buttons at the side, and it hisses as the facepiece unlocks and lifts. Kylo pulls the mask off as he stands once more. He sets it aside, then looks upon you. 

Oh. 

Oh.

This is the face of someone worth losing everything over.

His eyes are angry. His brows are thick. His nose is prominent, his lips are plush. Moles and freckles dot his pale skin. His hair is longer now than it was years ago, but still wavy. Still curled at the ends. It takes everything in you not to let the emotions swell. Perhaps this will prove to be more difficult than you thought. 

Kylo steps forward, and you don’t dare look away. 

“I know the old man gave it to you,” Kylo says. “The map. Tell me where it is.”

You shake your head. 

“You of all people should know that I’m not that easy,” you tell him. The corner of his mouth twitches. You remember the summer you spent with him, drunk in love under the bright stars. Oh, the smiles he’d give you. This is nothing in comparison. 

“Don’t make me fight for it,” Kylo says. He steps forward again. “We both know I’m stronger. I can take whatever I want.”

Your faces are so close. Your hands are clenched into fists, still. You are aching to touch him, to feel his skin against yours. You look at him and wonder how exactly he plans to take this information from you. The truth is that the map is far away from here by now, and on its way to the Resistance with your BB unit. 

You have nothing for him. Even if he finds out about the droid, Kylo and his people will never beat it to the base. Perhaps you are to die tonight at the hands of Kylo Ren. What a heroic way to go. What a beautiful last face to see. 

Kylo brings a large, gloved hand up to the side of your face, not touching you but nearly doing so. The Force hums, then. You grunt as you throw up your mental walls, fighting to keep him out. 

“You don’t h-have to do this,” you breathe softly, straining against the pain. Kylo says nothing, instead pushing harder. You look away from him, and because you do this, you miss the way his bottom lip quivers briefly. He feels it – everything you’ve carried with you all this time.

“You’re so angry,” he says quietly, almost to himself. You shake your head. 

“I-I’ve been captured by your s-slaves,” you quip.

“No,” comes his firm voice. “You’re angry because of what I did at the Temple. Even now, it’s in here.”

“You sound surprised,” you grunt, glaring at him again. His eyes meet yours. “I loved you.”

“You loved what I stood for.”

“I. Loved. You,” you snarl. You shake against the restraints. “Let me out of this wretched thing, face me properly. Or are you too afraid of what I can do?”

Kylo pulls out of your mind. Your chest rises and falls rapidly as he stares at you momentarily. Then, he reaches forward and undoes the cuffs of the interrogation chair. You lunge at him immediately, shoving him so hard that he stumbles back.

You raise your hand to smack him, and he catches your wrists in both of his hands. You knee him in the crotch instead. Kylo grunts, then spins you around and pins you against the wall with his entire firm body pressed against yours. You struggle. 

“Get off of me.”

“I told you you were angry,” Kylo says, as if to prove a point.

“Get off.”

“Where is the map?”

“I don’t know.”

Kylo adjusts your wrists so that he’s holding them both in one hand, then brings his other hand up to rest on your throat. Your breath catches. 

“Where . . . is it?”

“I don’t know,” You say again, softly this time. Kylo hums, and you feel the energy shifting. Your heart begins to pound. Kylo’s body is hot against yours. You tip your head back to rest against his shoulder. An olive branch. A dove. An offer. His hand slides down from your throat to your left breast. You nearly moan at the feeling – how long have you waited for this? How many nights have you laid awake thinking of this exact scenario? Wondering how how hands would feel on your chest, on your hips, on your–

“You want this,” Kylo says as he squeezes your breast. You sigh. 

“I never said I didn’t,” you remark. He leans forward and presses his face against your shoulder, then inhales your scent deeply. 

“If you’re gonna take me, then do it,” you say breathily. 

“Have you no patience?”

“Clearly not,” you tell him. You feel his erection pressing against you, and you chuckle. “Clearly you don’t, either.”

Kylo turns you around so that he can look at you. You reach up to touch him, running your hand along his cheek. He seems to lean into your touch, and this brings you an odd sense of satisfaction. He still wants you, still wants this.

“Take all this shit off,” you tell him firmly, tugging at his tunic. He says your name, and you shake your head. “I don’t care. Take it off. If you’re gonna kill me over this map, I want to see you one last time.”

You’ve always held your head high, but the truth is that Kylo Ren has haunted you from the moment he left the Temple, lightsaber in-hand. Life is . . . Life is a waiting game now. Wondering how much time you have left, how much time you’ve wasted. But now, here? You know how it could end, and Kylo Ren is taking off his cape and his tunic and his undershirt, and you surge forward to grab a handful of his hair and kiss him. 

He gasps against your lips but you only press against him harder. The Force seems to hum around the two of you. Two powerhouses together only means ultimate power, and as Kylo pulls your body forward and yanks at your clothes, you begin to realize that perhaps you should have joined him all those years ago. 

It certainly would’ve made life much easier for you.

Kylo shreds your shirt and throws its remnants aside before reaching around to unclip your undergarment. You let him. He kisses you again, and you feel it again – The Force’s strong presence. 

You lean back against the wall, and Kylo tugs down your pants eagerly, lips parted and cheeks flushed. What an incredible privilege it is to see him in this way again. You wonder how long it has been for him.

You run your hands along his strong arms – which are much larger than they were the last time you had him like this – and then meet his eyes. 

“Please,” you breathe. Kylo nods, reaching down to pull his erection free from his trousers. 

“I know,” he says. The emotion from earlier, you feel it finally. Tears fill your eyes as you part your legs for him, bringing one of them up to hook around his hip. Kylo holds the side of your face as a tear escapes you. 

You cling to him, wrapping your arms around him in an attempt to bring yourself even closer yet. He enters you, and you moan as he fills you up. Your grip on him tightens. You’ve missed this – you’ve needed it for Gods know how long. Kylo begins to piston his hips, fucking into you, and you groan as he holds you up against the wall. 

“Fuck,” he grunts. You moan. 

“Faster,” you sob, holding onto his hair, his shoulder. “F-Faster.”

“I’m trying,” Kylo says, rocking his hips back and forth. You sigh as he pleases you. His cock feels magical, like something that was made for you and only for you. You imagine Kylo at brothels and inns with random women, and it makes you hate him. How dare he be with anyone but you. How dare he even consider it.

“Tell me again,” Kylo says. “W-What you said earlier.”

You moan, mind foggy with lust. 

“Which thing?” you ask. 

“You know.”

You ponder for a moment, then it clicks. You moan. 

“I loved you,” you breathe, a lump in your throat. “I did. I-I swear it.”

Kylo nods, his eyes meeting yours. 

“I know,” he breathes. You yank on his hair. 

“I hate you, now.”

“I know that, too.”

Your chest is hot and filled with unsaid words of affection. Kylo isn’t ready for them, you know that. He may never be. He’s so angry, so full of hate. You can hardly believe he’s doing this with you at all. How will he be when it is over? What will he do to you?

“I hate you for leaving me,” you breathe. Your orgasm is swelling within you, and you know that Kylo is close, too. 

“You should have joined me,” Kylo says. You cry out. 

“Shut up,” you tell him. He says your name as if it’s a prayer. You shake your head. “Don’t. Don’t. Just make me cum.”

Kylo nods. For once, he has nothing to say, nothing to add. He knows that your time – yours and his – has passed. Destinies have been selected for each of you on opposite sides of this war, and when he is finished with this, he will have to act as if none of it meant anything at all. You’re so angry with him, and he’s so loyal to Snoke – none of it would ever work even if you tried.

But at least you have this. At least you have now.

“I’m close,” Kylo breathes. You nod.

“Me, too,” you say. He pounds into you once, twice, three more times, and he’s moaning your name against your shoulder. You groan at the sound of it. You revel in it, in his desperation, his neediness. You shall never have it again. 

He fills you up just like he used to, and you sigh softly as you reach your own peak. His gloved hand travels down to rub your throbbing clit, and when he does, you moan and buck your hips. 

“F-Fuck . . .” you sigh. Kylo takes you through it, and when it’s all over, he pulls out slowly. You lower your leg and reach for your pants. Kylo takes a small step back, looking at you momentarily before redressing. You let out a soft, shaky breath as you do the same. 

Kylo looks at you once he’s fully clothed, watching you finish getting dressed. 

“Tell me where the map is so I can let you go,” he says. You look at him as you tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear. Your heart breaks in your chest. His does, too. You both know that this is not the ending that you wanted. 

“I can’t,” you say. He says your name. You shake your head. “I made promises, Kylo.” Feeling weak and foolish, Kylo rebinds you to the interrogation chair. You don’t fight him. He opens his mouth to speak, then reaches for his mask and leaves without another word.

Tagging my Star Wars-loving besties: @mrs-gucci @safarigirlsp @babbushka

(Dividers by saradika-graphics)

rynwritesstuff, 2025