#where the bad guys win

[thegreatwicked]

Forget the Storm

Forget the Storm

A One Shot in a galaxy Where the Bad Guys Win 

TheGreatWicked

Summary: General Hux takes some rarely used, yet long-accrued personal leave to visit his homeworld, Arkanis, and visit his wife. He arrives amidst one of the famous downpours to find his wife has never experienced a thunderstorm. Shocked, he helps her forget the storm. 

Inspired by a TikTok by Lady In Writing, called Thunderstorms. AU, where Hux doesn’t die and the bad guys obviously win.

Pairing: Hux/OFC, Selene

Rating: Explicit; graphic depictions of sex. Minors do not interact.

I am not what many would consider a man of many pleasures. I don’t laugh, I don’t consort with my inferiors, I am not one for dalliances and I do not smile, or if I do, it’s rarely a good thing for those around me. Just ask the rebels I had executed last week, oh wait, you can’t.

There aren’t many things in this galaxy that bring a true smile to my face, and I’m well aware that people think me to be grumpy, with a permanent scowl on my face, completely unable to find enjoyment of any sort but the fact is, they’re quite wrong. I am a man of unwavering dedication and strict discipline and once something is in my sight, I never let it go. And it’s an attitude like that, that will someday see me ruling this galaxy.

However, today, ruling the galaxy is the last thing on my mind. As I stride purposefully toward the hanger where my personal shuttle awaits me, there’s a lightness in my step and a softness that I rarely exhibit. Something tugs at the corner of my mouth and if I’m not careful, I feel in danger of a blasphemous smile breaking across my face. It is difficult to maintain my usual sternness, as even my steps have an uncharacteristic ease to them, but I must only maintain this for a bit longer.

Those who cross my path, feel that, perhaps, something is different about me today and they’re quite right, the disparity in my behavior is discernable enough that those who deal with me every day can tell. They can see by the way I pass my subordinates and I don’t bother to stop to demand my customary salute, some may think I am angrier than usual but in fact, I am simply indifferent. On the other hand, some may see my aloofness as perhaps me just being in a rare good mood, given my lack of barking orders. No need to really, it’s not out of charity that I ignore what I usually wouldn’t, I have people for that.

Today is different because it’s been weeks in the making and planning, but I’m only a few short hours away from my homeworld of Arkanis; a place I never, in a hundred years thought I would look forward to returning to.

That is, until recently, I’ve never had a reason to return to it. It’s the reason I’m in such good spirits today. I don’t return to the ghosts of my past, nor do I return to an empty house. It is her; my wife.

Selene.

A woman who captivates me in all things, in ways I never thought possible and has from the moment I met her. In her presence, my disposition undergoes a remarkable transformation, though none are witness to it, as I suspect Rens does when he returns to that woman of his, that desert girl. As much as I dislike to acknowledge such a factor, in that regard, he and I are the same.

An intellect sharp enough to cut yourself on, unwavering dedication to me, and a ruthlessness that I admit, I had underestimated in the past. And, of course, beautiful in a way that transcends physical appearance. She is my equal in all things. 

It seems so strange to me now, that our marriage began as something of a political stunt; one meant to present a polished image of the First Order to the galaxy. It was simple propaganda, which I had been less than thrilled by when the arrangement had been presented to me. Although, I must admit, the very notion of being selected for such a role did serve to stroke my ego, considerably. It was both flattering and irritating.

Being the youngest general in the First Order, loyal, ambitious, handsome in my own right, and of course an impressive military lineage dating back to the Empire. They had said I was a natural choice, and in that regard they were right. But a wife? That had been the last thing on my mind, I was neither interested in finding a wife nor keeping up with one, and the concept of monogamy was as interesting to me at the ridiculous space wizardry of the Force. I liked my freedom to do as I wish or fuck who I liked, Selene had simply been another name on a list.

The entire hanger snaps to a salute as I enter it and I try to look a little more irritated but it’s growing increasingly difficult because with each step I take toward my shuttle, I am that much closer to her.

With each precise step, I march through the hangar, my heart racing with an eagerness I'm careful not to show outwardly. The troops stands at attention, a sea of crisp salutes and rigid stances, all eyes fixed on their departing general. My head remains held high, an image of unwavering resolve as I approach the waiting shuttle.

The protocol demands that I maintain an air of control and discipline, even though every fiber of my being longs to sprint towards that shuttle, to escape this moment of tedious formality. The atmosphere in the hangar is charged with anticipation though only I feel it, but I must endure the final briefings from my subordinates, as they rattle off last-minute details regarding Starkiller Base’s ooperations during my absence.

I listen, my patience thinly veiled by my standard curt responses. Time is of the essence, and I can't afford to waste it on trivial matters, but I know it to be a monster of my own making. From a time when I wanted complete and precise adherence to my instruction and command, no detail was too small to escape my attention. Before Selene; when the most important thing to me was my duties. Every question they pose is met with my trademark sharpness, a reminder that I have no patience for idle chatter. I yearn to be on that shuttle, en route to Arkanis.

~~~

Finally, I ascend the ramp of my shuttle, a place where I can escape the incessant inquiries and mundane concerns. The door seals shut behind me, and I'm left in blissful silence. In this solitude, I can shed the facade and allow my true emotions to surface.

Taking a seat in my private quarters, I recline slightly, a rare moment of respite. The pilot's voice breaks through my thoughts, informing me that we'll depart as soon as we receive clearance. I nod, acknowledging the information, but my mind is already far ahead, racing towards the reunion awaiting me on Arkanis.

In the silence of my private quarters, my mind wanders, back to the beginning of our marriage and how shocked I had been at the whole thing, and how it had become something far more profound. I hadn’t expected such an undeniable connection or the common ground we shared that extended beyond the realm of politics, we complimented each other remarkably well, our strengths and weaknesses intertwining in perfect harmony. 

But the truth of the matter that surprised me more than I expected, was that I enjoyed being the recipient of Selene’s affections. In the quiet moments we shared, when there were no other eyes on us, I was shocked to discover the delights of having someone I could trust, fuss, and fawn over me. The way she ran her hands over my uniform’s crisp lines, searching for imperfections, with an eye as keen as my own. It was amusing to no end for me, how she held the same high standards I did and if I was being completely honest? I relished in the knowledge that whenever I strode about in my uniform, she couldn’t take her eyes off me. The solace I found in her company had been remarkable, her every word and fleeting glance, all of it, an unspoken language we share.

Not that I would ever admit publicly, but in her way, Selene, I suppose, has me wrapped irrevocably around her finger. Imagine, that, I, a general of the First Order, a man of considerable power and authority at the mercy and whims of a woman. I chuckle at the notion though I can’t bring myself to deny it, because deep down I know the truth; I’d move galaxies and rip down the stars if she asked me to. I would defy all odds and willingly submit myself to her desires. Dismantle empires, and reshape the nebulous void of space if she would ask of me. Despite all my achievements, all my finery, and my victories, the greatest one I hold in the highest regard, is her. 

I can feel the gentle vibrations of the shuttle’s engines as we take flight and anticipation fills my chest, here and only here, and for only a moment, I can let my guard down and allow the smile that’s been threatening to break all morning. In just a short while, I’ll be there, with her again after months of separation with only holos videos, written communication, and the memory of her touch. My smile grows, and I am content for a few moments to let it gleam through. In Selene’s presence, I no longer feel like I carry the weight of the galaxy on my shoulders, there is only her warmth and loyalty.

As we draw closer to Arkanis, the skies grow dark and the rumbling of thunder is louder, the hallmark of my homeworld. Storms are not an uncommon occurrence here, and much of the time the skies are filled with rainclouds, though this time of year does see some powerful storms. I realize that this isn’t something I prepared her for and I can’t help but feel a flicker of concern for her comfort. Her homeworld, Felucia is a tropical one and while it has storms of its own, they tend to lean more towards hot, humid drizzles, nothing like the booming thunder that rocks the skies. 

In thinking of her homeworld, I can’t help but think of the start of our relationship. She hadn’t even been at the top of my list of candidates for a potential wife, and I struggled to comprehend why that was. Her father, who had been a prominent figure in the merchants guild, had a considerable position of power and influence. Yet, I knew as soon as I saw the man what he was — a bully, a coward, and a brute. I knew his kind all too well. Men who dined exquisitely while their underlings starved, wore fine clothes, and boasted about their achievements yet, never lifted a finger to pull their weight or earn respect.

Insufferable man.

But it had been worth it, listening to his nonsense, Selene had walked in and she had been a breath of fresh air to the stagnant room and the unbearably oppressive humidity. Her matter-of-fact manner of speaking had undoubtedly caught me off guard, and I had to admit, she was utterly charming.

Once we were alone, she wasted no time in addressing the bantha in the room; of how neither of us truly desired the positions we were forced into – the roles we were expected to play. She made a convincing argument of how we could make this work to our advantage, this unconventional arrangement. Her tenacity was captivating. Her skill of negotiating was truly commendable as she outlined the benefits we could reap from one another, she exuded confidence but I saw what she had been trying to hide; fear. 

My fist clenches at the thought. 

Her proposal had been motivated by a fear I knew all too well.

Marry her.

I scoff at the notion now, as if I could have refused that creature; that gorgeous, intelligent, and determined woman. 

She offered me everything a man could dream of; an effortless marriage, unwavering loyalty to me, and a willingness to submit to my desires all the while maintaining the expected image of the wife of a general. Obedient, quiet, loyal. All I had to do was rescue her from her father’s clutches and never raise a hand to her.

It existed briefly between us, and in a flash, it had been gone; the fear in her eyes of her father’s whispered harsh words and warnings. No doubt a concoction of threats and manipulation for her to toe the line and do as she was told. A man far crueler than me might have taken her for all she was worth or perhaps left her to the whims of the man she feared most but no, not me. I couldn’t. I too had felt the weight of a harsh and unforgiving world pressing down upon me.

As I sip the last of my tea, my lips curl into a snarl. 

Against all odds we had entered into this union of ours and it had surpassed my initial expectations. Selene had held up her end of the bargain and proven herself to be a devoted wife to me, presenting herself at all times with poise and grace in the public eye, never a hair out of place. She played the role of the demure and well-mannered; adhering to the expectations placed upon her as my wife. But it was behind closed doors that she truly surprised me; when I truly saw the woman. I wasn’t an idiot and I understood the nature of arrangments like these and that desire was more often than not one-sided, and in fact, I had been fully prepared for this outcome but it hadn’t been warranted.

I hadn’t expected such… ardor from her. Our honeymoon had been nothing short of remarkable, I expected a wife who appeared devoted and yet when we were alone to show fear or reluctance, yet that had not been the case. The door hadn’t been closed for five minutes before she was set upon me, she hadn’t been able to keep her hands off of me. It had been quite a night.

It’s amusing when I think of it now, how we quickly became what subject of whispers and admiration within the ranks of the First Order. The poster couple for this new regime of obedience, representing the strength and unity my superiors had sought to achieve.

And in return for her compliance, all I had to do was treat her with respect and ensure her safety and well-being. Childs play, really.

I can feel my smile turn dark, as I recall the final hurdle to our union; Selene's father. 

The man, desperate to maintain a sense of dominance over a daughter who was no longer his to control, posed a threat to our freedom. His interference could not be tolerated, and my fury knew no bounds when he had made the foolish attempt to take back Selene. Stupid man.

The plan had been meticulously orchestrated, a tragedy befell Selene's father in the form of an unfortunate accident. No questions were asked, and the man's presence was swiftly extinguished from our lives. In public, her reaction was an expected one; watery eyes, shoulders shaking slightly, grief lightly painting her features, clinging to my arm, but her head held high. Of course, it hadn’t been that simple and when I finally revealed the truth to her, I had braced myself for her displeasure. I expected her to berate me, to question my methods and motivations, to realize the monster she’d made a bargain with. But to my surprise, Selene's reaction was far from what I anticipated. Instead of anger, she pushed me into a chair and dropped to her knees, kissing my hands and pawing at my uniform. At that moment, she reaffirmed her unwavering loyalty and love, declaring that now, I was truly the only man in her life. 

I tug at the collar of my uniform as I feel a flush of heat surging through me at the memory, stars, the night that woman gave me…

The weight of her words sent chills down my spine, a mixture of exhilaration and a tinge of apprehension. I had acted with the intent to protect what was mine, but I couldn't deny the thrill of Selene's fierce devotion. I had taken a life for her, for us, and I would do it again.

"I take it this pleases you," I had cautiously inquired, needing to ensure that his actions hadn't stirred any fears or doubts within Selene's heart.

Her response, filled with a seductive promise, sent a shiver of anticipation through my entire being and straight to my cock. "Not half as much as I'm going to please you," she had whispered, her voice carrying an intoxicating blend of desire and satisfaction, the very sound could drive a man to his knees.

That night, Selene unleashed her adoration upon me, leaving no doubt about her commitment to me. She clawed at me, eager to make good on her words. She praised me well into the night as her fearless, powerful, and undeniably handsome husband, showering me with a passion and pleasure that left lingering bruises on my body, denying me nothing.

I reveled in the orgasmic bliss Selene bestowed upon me, wave after wave of carnal satisfaction. In those intense moments throughout that night, I felt alive, desired, and cherished. Never before had I felt so powerful, so wanted. 

When the dawn broke, I skillfully concealed the evidence of our passionate encounter, those reminders of our clandestine liaison. Her marks, tokens of her ravenous hunger, remained hidden from prying eyes, but I would wear them for days.

 I adjust my trousers at the thought.

~~~

Finally…

As the shuttle touches down on the stormy and soaked grounds of my ancestral home, my anticipation has reached a fever pitch. My poor, darling wife has no idea I’ve come, she has no idea what I’ve in store for her. I’ve been eager to surprise her for weeks now with this visit, the rain means nothing to me as I dawn my command cap and heavy coat, tromping through the accumulated puddles, making my way to the grand house that had once belonged to my father.

I don’t think of the countless horrid memories of this place, no, my thoughts are consumed by Selene, her presence a beacon of light in my otherwise tumultuous existence. I can’t help but wonder what I’ll find her doing; will she be reading? She does enjoy a good novel. Perhaps sleeping away the storm in the comfort of our bed? I certainly wouldn’t mind crawling in and waking her. Sipping tea in my chair in the study or perhaps I’ll catch her doing something of a more naughty nature. Coy minx she is, I’ve caught her before and I can’t help the chuckle that rumbles through my chest and resonates throughout my body. 

If my father had only known the woman he was giving me, he never would have let me have her.

I’m told homecomings should be filled with warmth and familiarity but that was never my experience, until Selene. I never expected to feel this way as I crossed the threshold, all thoughts of ghosts of the past quickly vanish and are replaced by desire.

My smile grows as I venture further inside, ready to surprise her, the droids swiftly attend to me, taking my command cap and coat. Shaking off the residual rain, I compose myself before making my way up the staircase, taking them two at a time, to the bedroom. The house is quiet and the only sound is the distant rumbling of thunder, but it’s growing louder as the storm draws closer.

The room is so dark at first and devoid of movement, it takes my eyes a moment to adjust and for a moment I can’t help but wonder if she’s retired for the evening. But as a flash of lightning fills the room with its violent illumination, I see her. Her silhouette against the window with her back to me, no idea I am even here, she’s so absorbed in the storm’s might. A more perfect sight a man couldn’t hope to return to, arms wrapped around herself, draped in little more than my full-length coat, similar to the one I’ve only just left downstairs. Its large size encompasses her effortlessly so much that it’s partially slipped from her shoulder. Her long legs are bare from under the opening of the coat and I can feel my mouth water. Long dark hair cascades over her shoulder like a curtain, concealing me from her sight.

I swallow the lump in my throat at this portrait of enticement that is waiting for me, and I can’t help but wonder if the surprise has been spoiled somehow, this is far too perfect a sight for a man to simply stumble onto. Maybe she knew I was coming, maybe she’d been standing there waiting for me. Maybe she’s planned something for me, naked under my coat. My hands clench into fists, flexing briefly and I struggle to maintain my composure, but stars all I want is to wrap her hair around my fist.

She doesn’t seem to know I’m here, she’s still so captivated by the storm, outside. Years of training and discipline give nothing away in my steps as I draw closer to her, the sound of my footfalls masked by the relentless downpour. I marvel at the juxtaposition of her delicate form against the backdrop of the raging storm, her vulnerability hidden beneath an air of fascination and fear. 

I have to stop and take in this sight once more before I disturb it – my wife, temptingly wrapped in my coat, gazing out at the spectacle that is my homeworld. The fixation on her face stirs something in me as I stand silently beside her. I can smell her hair, and feel her warmth, it’s dizzying, so close I can touch her, and so I do.

She finally becomes aware of my presence when my hand grazes her bare shoulder to brush her hair aside. My words are hushed, they’re only for her as I murmur against her ear delicately wrapping a few strands of her hair around my fingers.

“Feeling chilly?”

She turns immediately startled, her eyes are full of shock and disbelief as she takes in a sight that she isn’t prepared for. B without a moment’s hesitation, she flings her arms around my neck and it throws me briefly off balance a step. She weighs nothing to me and I lift her as I did the day I carried her over the threshold of this house when we were married, she yelps in surprise at my romantic gesture. I surprise even myself, sometimes.

She’s breathless when she asks me what I’m doing here, like she can’t believe it’s really happening, but she doesn’t let me answer her. Her perfect lips are locked onto mine in a passionate kiss and her fingers bury themselves in the scruff of my neck, beginning an assault on my pristine appearance. Her reaction is exactly as I desired, and I can feel myself smiling into her kiss.

"Taking some well-earned leave from my duties and lavishing my beautiful wife a visit," I manage to answer her in between her hungry mouth seeking mine, “I take it I’ve succeeded in surprising you?”

“I’m completely shocked!” She beams at me, her eyes sparkling with delight as I set her on her feet, and she’s hesitant to leave my arms. "When did you arrive?" 

"Only moments ago" She looks out the window and back at me with a solid look of disbelief. 

“You came through that?” 

The room resonates with my chuckle, how amusing, she thinks this is something. This is nothing, just a drizzle. "Do you really think a little rain would keep me from you?" My tone is playful, something I haven’t felt in months, "I've weathered storms far worse than this.” And it’s true. This drizzle, this sprinkling? I don’t even feel it. My lips graze hers as I speak and she’s positively captivated by me, when I take her delicate hand and press a kiss to it, I am a gentleman and an officer, afteralll.

“You never cease to amaze me, my fearless General,” Stars. I love it when she calls me that. Her fingers tenderly trace the contours of my uniform, and her eyes follow the path her hands take. “Your unyielding devotion humbles me.” There’s such fervency in her voice, it’s welcoming and laced with seduction, a deliberate melody crafted just for me. Every word that falls from her lips is carefully chosen, lavishing me with praises.

The crafty thing she is. I relish these moments when she pushes me to break free from this stern and composed facade, knowing that only she holds the power to unravel me in this way. My hands roam down her back, over the sturdy fabric of my coat, I know so well, I can’t feel anything beneath it. Blood pulses in my veins and my cock grows thick with want. 

"Do you often pilfer my uniforms, my love?" I can’t resist the allure of seeing her in my coat, it just does something to me. Something I suspect is not unique to only me, but the sight of her in my clothes and how they envelope her form stirs something possessive in me that’s impossible to explain.

Her smile teases me with a hint of an retort but she says nothing, leaning her head back while I take the lapel of the garment and pull it forward so she can’t escape me.

"Oh, I see," I say,  "You have a fascination with power and authority, do you?"

“There is something undeniably attractive about a uniform, especially when that uniform is my husband’s.” It’s Intoxicating, the sound of that laughter of hers. I sense the subtle vibrations on my skin as she peppers my jaw and neck with kisses and the softest nibbles, ensuring not to leave any visible marks. She knows better than that, but I also know for a fact she doesn’t mind the punishment that comes with it. 

“Technically, it’s not allowed, you know.” My resolve grows weaker under her delicious onslaught. “Wearing the uniform when you’re not an officer— it’s quite inappropriate.”

“Are you going to punish me for my insubordination, General?”Her tone carries a feigned fear, and it's fortunate that this woman isn't under my authority. I’d ruin my reputation for those lips, in a way that isn’t remotely acceptable for an officer of the First Order. 

My lips curl into a smug grin, just imagining Selene in a crisp uniform alone in my office. Her use of words like insubordination and when she addresses me as General, my blood boils and my uniform trousers suddenly feel far too tight. 

"Perhaps," I say against her skin in a hushed tone, "I might have to contemplate a fitting consequence for your actions, though I might be inclined to show mercy."

“I look forward to it, General.”

The way Selene embraces this aspect of my identity, even in the subtle act of adorning herself with a piece of my uniform when I'm absent, resonates profoundly. She wants me close, she wants me. That knowledge stirs a yearning within me. Unexpectedly, it awakens desires I hadn't entertained before, yet that's the captivating allure Selene has cast upon me — she evokes a sense of being wanted, a sentiment I never knew I craved.

Her suggestive gaze and the way she licks her lips with calculated intention has me trying to decide if it’s worth the trip to the bed only a few feet away, or if I’ll have her right here. Her precious naked skin against the cold window, that way when the next storm rolls through she’ll think of me. Stars, I have to know.

“Now, what exactly are you wearing beneath my coat, Selene?” 

"Do you honestly think I'm lounging about naked beneath your coat while you're not even here to enjoy it?"

"A man can dream, can't he?”

“Armitage,” She presses the gentlest of kisses to my lips, her tongue darting out to tease me, “had I known you were coming, I would have laid naked on the bed wearing only your command cap.”

Stars above. It's as if she conspires to fan the flames of my hunger.

She knows precisely how to manipulate my restraint, skillfully tugging and pulling at it until it threatens to snap entirely. Her presence is a siren's call, irresistible and relentless, drawing me closer into the vortex of our shared desires. Her lips, soft and insistent, press against my neck, igniting a firestorm of sensations that course through me. My desire surges to the forefront, a tangible force that leaves me breathless and electrified. Each heartbeat is a thunderous echo of my yearning, reverberating through the depths of my chest.

Oh, the things I’ll do to this woman...

It's hard to imagine how I'd react if I were to come upon such a scene. Finding her reclining on our bed, patiently awaiting my return, it would undoubtedly be a challenge when it comes to tearing myself away from the inviting warmth of our shared space to fulfill my responsibilities back on Starkiller Base. I'm fairly certain that if I weren't momentarily rendered speechless, my words would have halted at a simple ‘Darling, I'm home.’ Every inch of her perfect body on display for my eyes only. A visual feast for my consumption.

A searing wave of desire courses through my being, and I'm overwhelmed by an unquenchable lust. It's inconceivable to envision a reality where she isn't by my side, where our destinies don’t intersect. The thought that even the slightest alteration in the course of events could have kept us apart is beyond comprehension. I need to touch her, to feel her skin against mine, bury myself in her heat, and hear her say my name.

"Is that so?" I utter the question with a near-growl, my voice laced with a subtle tone of command. The shift in my manner, a manifestation stirred by her mere presence, caught me off guard initially. I hadn't foreseen the extent to which I would savor this newfound assertiveness. What's even more astonishing is her evident pleasure in witnessing this facet of my character."

I’m going to devour this woman. 

The abrupt crash of thunder reverberates through the room, eliciting a startled response from Selene nestled within my arms. The unexpected strength of her embrace catches me off guard; although storms of this nature hardly faze me, her trembling form suggests a vulnerability I hadn't anticipated.

"Darling, are you, frightened of the storm?" I inquire, my gaze probing hers for any traces of fear.

She averts her eyes from mine, her grip on me slowly easing, and her hands delicately smoothing over my uniform in an effort to regain composure. In a hushed tone, as if hesitant to reveal any vulnerability, she confesses,

"Would you think less of me if it did?"

My fingers delicately trace the curve of her cheek, a subtle lift guiding her chin to meet my gaze.

"Never," I murmur with unwavering assurance, sealing my promise with a tender kiss. "Rest assured, my love, these storms, though a little stronger this time of year, are but a passing tempest."

I crave the return of that radiant smile to grace her lips, and the assurance in her eyes as she finds solace in my presence during these ephemeral days. Yet, the bitter truth lingers — in a few days I will depart for Starkiller Base, leaving her to weather this relentless season in solitude. It's a persistent ache, a reminder that our stolen moments together offer only a brief reprieve from the harsh reality that awaits.

After a thoughtful pause, her smile reappears, carrying that alluring touch of mischief that never fails to enthrall me. She inches closer, and her breath, warm and inviting, brushes against my neck as she speaks. "The rain, it's chilling. Will you be my warmth until the storm subsides?" Her question, laden with a candid vulnerability veiled by desire, stirs something profound within me. I find myself nodding, our eyes sharing an unspoken pact. In my gaze, there's a darkness, a magnetic allure that captures her attention, and the playful façade she wears dissolves, unveiling the hunger beneath.

"Show me, my powerful General, how you'll keep me warm." It's a provocative invitation, one that even all the discipline in the galaxy cannot shield me from.

Something primal stirs within, and I willingly assume the role she craves. I revel in the intricate dance of dominance and submission that defines our intimacy. My commanding demeanor, the vigor, and restraint that define my essence seamlessly align with Selene's yearning for guidance and protection.

Her fingers trace a tender path along my jawline, down my neck, and to the clasps of my uniform. Our desires entwine, and our shared understanding of the power dynamics in our relationship adds an electrifying intensity to our encounters.

“Shall we start by settling you into bed?” I pause briefly, lowering myself to lift her gently into my arms, cradling her thighs as I effortlessly raise her. 

A contented purr emanates from deep within as her legs coil around my hips, and I proceed to carry her toward our bed. The notion of making love against the window can be reserved for another occasion. Her weight holds no significance, and as we ease onto the mattress, it yields softly to accommodate us. Kneeling beside her, I delicately lay her down, my arms enveloping her in a protective embrace.

Selene's tender words, "I've missed you," linger in the air, entwined with the rhythm of our languid kisses. Her voice resonates with a profound yearning. I don't often indulge in grand declarations of love; action is my preferred language. Selene understands this facet of my character, yet she knows that I secretly crave hearing such sentiments from her. Her admission sets my blood ablaze, and my heart stirs at the echo of her longing words. The revelation that she pines for me, has been consumed by thoughts of me, and hungers for my touch kindles a passionate fire within, a blaze I must carefully contain.

"And I, you," I murmur gently, my voice revealing a tenderness exclusively reserved for her. Rarely do I lay bare the depths of my emotions, but in this singular moment, entwined with Selene, I find myself unable to shield every fragment of my vulnerability. She occupies a distinct place within the guarded recesses of my heart.

"Selene," I murmur, drawing her nearer, "Open, your mouth and kiss me properly." My words are a command, a plea, an invitation—all rolled into one. I desire nothing more than to feel her lips pressed against mine, to share in a moment of unbridled passion and connection, a rare escape from the constraints of our roles and the burdens we carry.

Sweet, sweet compliance. I taste her again after months of only a memory, the perfume she wears the way she tastes like oranges and tea, the softness of her tongue against mine. It’s indescribable and it’s only the beginning. I've held off any self-pleasure the last few days knowing how good she would feel, how perfect she’d taste, and even as I kiss her it’s just as I hoped. Our lips move together in perfect harmony as though no time has passed at all, I can feel her hunger, how much she wants me. 

Another clap of thunder resounds outside, Selene flinches instinctively, but the fear that once gripped her is now tempered by my presence. I’ll make her forget it, kiss her till she’s dizzy, tease and pleasure her till she’s a mewling mess. There won’t be a stronger storm than the one we’ll create tonight. 

"Come," My voice, a soothing balm. "Let's get your mind off the storm." 

My fingers trace a deliberate path along her leg, effortlessly discarding the coat that drapes over her. True to her word, there's nothing provocative concealed beneath, just the modest nightgown she sleeps in. Yet, the gown's brevity and the alluring neckline tell me everything I desire to know. My lips meet hers with a fierce hunger, a possessiveness that claims her, my tongue delving past her lips to savor the intoxicating taste, again and again.

Feeling her frantic hands against my uniform searching for the closures that she’s learned to unfasten with practiced ease draws an amused chuckle from me, but it fades quickly. The pride in my uniform is forgotten in a rush to get it off so that I can feel my wife’s naked body against mine. 

The echoes of the storm outside gradually yield to the rapid cadence of our breaths, blending with the gentle rustle of fabric. Each component of my uniform gracefully descends to the ground, followed by the subdued thud of my boots, forming a growing heap on the floor. The urgency intensifies with each passing second, mirroring the escalating desire building within me.

"You're insatiable," she murmurs, her words escaping in breathless fragments, accentuating the affectionate devotion I lavish upon her.

"Months have passed with only the echo of your touch and the melody of your voice lingering in my memory. Yes, I find myself quite famished," I admit, my words measured and deliberate. My lips graze her neck with a possessive intensity, an insatiable hunger driving my actions. I yearn to mark her, to make the entire Galaxy witness what she is to me — unequivocally mine. The nightgown's modest neckline impedes my exploration of her form, a frustrating barrier that will soon succumb to my desire as I am compelled to tear it away.

“Darling, you’re not nearly naked enough.” 

She slips out of my coat and lifts the short gown over her head, casting it away. I can’t help but be disappointed as the coat is removed, but I suppose I can’t find much reason to complain. I rasp in approval when her mouth is on my skin, licking, sucking, and biting down my chest. She can leave whatever marks on me she likes here, I don’t care, I’ll wear them and stroke my cock when I’m alone looking at them at the memory of what she’s doing to me. The sound of my belt clinking coupled with Selene pulling at my trousers, working them over my hips sees the last of my uniform carelessly tossed to the floor where it belongs.

“Better?” She pulls me back to bed and into a kiss, it burns hotter now that there’s nothing between us.

“Much.”

My cock is so damn hard it hurts and it’s been that way from the moment I saw her in my coat, my imagination running wild. What she was wearing under it, what I would do to her here in the privacy of our home. 

My mornings used to begin with a cold shower, but now they begin with a hot shower while I fist my cock remembering the last time I felt her cunt squeeze me. I can’t walk around my ship without thinking of places and circumstances I’d like to have her. 

“Although I must admit, I could certainly get used to seeing you in nothing but my coat.”

The grin she gives me stops me in my tracks, she slips her arms back into the coat and reclines against the pillow in a provocative pose, instantly capturing my attention. And I’ll be damned if it doesn’t work. 

“Is this more to your liking, Armitage?"

“Very much so.” 

I cover her body with mine, enjoying how her eyes glaze over with a caress of my thumb over her nipple. “I could have you like this every day.” 

Her lips tremble against mine when I kiss her, her whimpers are so sweet to me. While I tease the seam of her lips with my tongue, my thumb has worked the peak of her nipple to a maddeningly needy state. 

I can feel her heart racing, memories of endless waves of ecstasy and my eyes locked on her quivering form enjoying every second. My mouth moves down her neck followed by the occasional scrape of my teeth then the soft warmth of my tongue. Her back arches into the pillow when my lips drop and the scorching heat of my mouth and the velvet of my tongue swirls around one of her hard nipples. She’s thrumming with need and she keens into me, singing sweet little cries for my ears.

“So desperate for my touch, aren’t you?” She emits a soft sigh of longing as I loosen my grip, her chest rising and falling, and the delicate shivers that gracefully ripple across her skin do not escape my observant gaze. I can’t help the amused chuckle that escapes my lips, she wants my mouth, then she’ll have it, as if I could leave her wanting. She ceases her sad little writhing when my mouth resumes its exploration down her stomach, dipping my tongue into her navel and she squirms slightly, my girl is so sensitive.

“Armitage…” Her voice is so delicate and full of need.

“Be patient Selene, I told you, darling, I’m hungry.” 

I breathe out a hot breath between her legs, my shoulders opening her thighs for me, she’s trying so hard to be still for me, knowing that I’ll reward her patience. I watch as her chest rises and falls in anticipation, and her lips quiver when I place a soft bite on the inside of her thigh before soothing its sting with a kiss. I do it again, my teeth not breaking her skin but causing enough discomfort to see her eyes shut and her teeth catch that lower lip of hers before easing my bite with my lips and tongue. I stroke her inner thigh, enjoying how she writhes slightly at the gentle caress. 

“Tell me, did you miss me, Selene?” I give her only a split second to answer before I dip my tongue between her folds.

“Yes!” Her reply is a strained whisper and full of relief as her body goes taut. “So much!” I close my eyes and dip my tongue back, taking a long and leisurely taste from her entrance to her clit, hearing her so anguished, so relieved soothes me somehow. “I always miss you,” She struggles to speak, to not trip over her words. “I–I’d give anything to be in your bed every night!” The endless chorus of desires on her lips is more beautiful than any composed symphony. 

“Is this what you think of when I’m gone when you touch yourself? Is this how you want me?” I’m a cruel man. I could ask her these questions while I tease her all day.

“Yes.” She practically sobs her answer to me, poor darling, I think I’ve teased her enough, maybe. 

My hands encircle the curve of her thighs, drawing her nearer to me. She reacts with a mixture of astonishment and anticipation, emitting a prolonged, breathy moan when I delve back between her lips. The cadence of our connection is unhurried and purposeful, a rhythm not intended to tease but to relish and savor.

She clutches the pillow tightly, her head swaying gently with every movement of my tongue. Her lips bear the weight of a bite, yet a sudden, precise pinch to the inner curve of her thigh elicits a sharp inhale, deep and unexpected.

“Armitage!” 

I release her soft flesh from my mouth, swiftly rising to hover above her. Her jaw, now secured in my grasp, my tongue asserts itself into her mouth, taking all I want. In the silent exchange of dominance, I wordlessly compel her compliance, and she yields willingly. As the intensity of our kiss gradually subsides, I murmur against her lips. Her eyes, laden with desire, lock onto mine, conveying a surrender that seems almost inevitable.

“None of that. I want to hear every sound you make, I want to hear all of your precious, needy cries.” She nods, “Open.” My fingers rest against her lips and she eagerly complies, swirling her tongue over my fingertips up to my knuckle. My cock throbs wishing it was between those lips of hers instead of my fingers, but soon enough, I’ll bury my cock in her perfect pussy and fuck her till she’s delirious. I withdraw my saliva-slicked fingers and trail them down her body, settling between her legs. 

Her breathless moan rings out with a stroke of my thumb across her clit, and her head falls back into the pillow. As much as I love bringing her to orgasm quickly I have to admit I greatly enjoy drawing it out. Until she’s a sweaty mess and nearly mad from my ministrations, 

“How many times should I make you come for me this time? Hmm?” Those lovely eyes flutter closed at the feeling of me slowly stroking her lips, my touch soft and loving. “Five?” My fingers slow to a crawl and my touch practically disappears entirely only to return a moment later, making leisurely and slow circles around her clit. “Six?” She whimpers, knowing full and well that I don’t make empty threats. “How many can my girl handle?” 

Her delicate 'ah, ah, ah's' are a symphony to my ears, akin to the most exquisite poetry. A mere graze, and she's teetering on the edge of orgasm before I playfully snatch it away with a gentle slap to her thigh, eliciting a reaction that would have propelled her out of bed if I hadn't trapped her beneath my weight. An agonizing pause hangs in the air before my nimble fingers, so adept at their craft, resume their rhythmic dance, this time at a more deliberate pace.

“Please,” when she pleads with me like that, I can never hold out for long.

“You’re so beautiful when you beg,” I lick her lips but pull away before she can kiss me. I punctuate my response by dragging the head of my hard cock through her folds, enjoying how her lashes flutter and her eyes roll back. “Could just bury my cock in you, fuck you till your body is so sensitive that you’re begging and shaking, and even the mere thought of my touch drives you into an orgasm.” Her tongue sweeps over her lips in anticipation, her eyes locked onto mine. “Would you like that, Selene?” 

“Yes, please,” I watch her eyes flutter closed and her head fall back into the pillow as I stroke the inside of her thighs, trailing a delicate touch up her legs to her lips, delivering a deeply sensual caress. Then without warning, I delve back down her body, I hum against her pussy in a devious open-mouthed kiss, she mewls lewdly for me now, that’s better. A sharp flick of my tongue on that delicate little bundle of nerves has her thrashing against me, but she’s not going anywhere I don’t want her to.  

Her cries grow louder and more desperate, sweet, and needy with each devious swipe of my tongue. 

“Maker..” 

Her hips twitch and then I work furiously, pushing every button I know she has. Alternating between soft and featherlight passes of my tongue that barely touch her clit, to broad strokes to that bundle of nerves, sucking gently because anything harder will have her crying from being pushed too close to the border of pleasure and pain. Finally, my calloused fingers spread her lips apart ensuring her lovely little clit cannot escape, her cries grow higher pitched and she’s soaking, her legs are taut and all it takes is a final flick of my tongue and a growling command “Come Selene,” She tumbles helplessly over the edge.

The rolling torrent of her orgasm washes over her body in waves, she writhes and keens against me, no nerves can accurately deliver any messages of what to do. I watch each twist of her hips, how she grips the pillow with white knuckles, her toes curl in pleasure and her legs tremble. Her cries are a symphony of want and lust mixed with my name while taking desperate lungfuls of air as though she were drowning. I begin to slow my assault, knowing any moment it will be too much for her, though one day I will push her further into a second orgasm, but not tonight. Perhaps when this Rebellion is thoroughly crushed and I occupy a far greater position in the First Order, then I’ll tie her to the bed and feast on her until she cries and begs for me to fuck her.

I’m hard and my cock aches to be touched, I leisurely stroke my length in anticipation, I could watch her come down like this all day. Then I see it, the look in her eyes that reads drunk with lust, and she instantly wants me inside her. She pushes herself up and my coat slips from her shoulders completely and the item is quickly forgotten about. 

Her mouth is hot and hungry against mine, something about this woman, how she yearns for my mouth after I’ve made her come with it, I don’t understand why I love it, but I do. The way she’s clawing at me like a deranged animal, licking inside my mouth, trying to taste more of her orgasm and I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t live for these moments.

“That’s one,” I rasp against her ferocious kiss. 

She reaches between my legs and grasps my cock, inducing shudders that swiftly course through my entire being. I’ve no idea what it is about a woman telling me she wants my cock, is it the word or the sentence itself? It never fails to give me chills. It’s been far too long since I’ve felt her silken fingers wrap around me. It’s exquisite how she strokes me settling into my lap, she’s so close that it hurts me to not be inside her. 

I can do little to stifle the groan that she rips from my throat when I feel her smear her slickness against my cock and she squeezes me. 

“Lie back, Armitage,” 

Her hand centers on my chest, and she pushes me onto my back, I give little resistance embracing the softness of the bed and my wife’s charms. I watch captivated by the way she dips her fingers between her legs licking her lips at her own touch, smearing some of the wetness on my lips before tracing a line down my chest. My eyes close of their own accord when she strokes my cock slowly with the combined slickness from her body.

I’ve earned this, convinced of my entitlement. I am deserving and, indeed, worthy of this woman, of the indulgence and pleasure unfolding. I am General Armitage Hux, the architect of the decisive blow against the Rebellion. The youngest general within the First Order, the heralded figurehead of the burgeoning regime. Selene's sinful touch, her exquisite form—these are rightfully mine.

She licks at the seam of my lips delivering a kiss that’s far too simple for the effect it has on me, I can feel my cock twitch in her hand and euphoria settles over me like a cloud, like a drug taking its course. Enjoying the sight before me, my wife, my Selene, perched naked over my hard cock looking at me as though I’m the supreme leader. Every inch of her body is for me and only me. 

She’s teasing me like this, she knows there will be consequences later, right now I’ll let her enjoy this position of power she holds over me, but my patience is waning. I need only growl her name before she sinks down slowly onto my cock, she nearly collapses on top of me from the heat and pleasure.

Her moans make my skin prickle, as I’m finally seated completely inside her cunt, and it’s perfect. Stars, it’s fucking perfect. Always the thoughtful lover, she starts by gently rocking her hips against mine, so I can find my inner discipline and get a hold of myself. Because truthfully I could come right here and right now, all the memories, holovids, and messages exchanged can never compete with reality.

“How’s that feel, darling?” My voice is a bit raspier than I’d like but I am very much in control. “Good?”

Selene's gaze is gently veiled by half-closed lids, and a dreamy allure graces her features. Yet, despite the ethereal quality of her expression, she remains acutely attuned to my desire for more than a mere nod; she understands that I relish the extravagant, the pinnacle of comfort rather than just comfort itself. I'm not content with a soft bed; I crave the softest bed imaginable. When it comes to tea, it's not any blend that satisfies my palate; only Tarine, served at the precise moment before reaching the boiling point, will do. She's cognizant of my inclination for verbal responses, but she also comprehends my penchant for a captivating spectacle. In this intricate dance of preferences, my wife, the enchantress, effortlessly delivers.

Her hands move up her body to caress her breasts and her head leans back slightly offering me a vision most men would only dare dream of having, before telling me in a half moan, and with a gentle rock of her hips. 

“Perfect, Armitage. It’s perfect.” Her words trail off but there’s nothing lazy about her declaration, the way it spills from her lips like a secret she can’t bear to keep. “You’re perfect,”

It’s captivating, the casual way she touches herself, a slave to her own pleasures and the moment, lost in them. 

“And this?” I give a sharp thrust of my hips upwards and she lets out a glorious whine, edged with such need, it’s an exquisite sound, so I do it again. “I hope you don’t expect me to do all the work, not when I’ve come all this way, through a storm.”

She laughs to herself and comes back from her penetrative high, those dark eyes settling on me, she raises herself up slowly savoring the expression I know I wear before sliding back down. She rocks forward and kisses my chest before repeating the motion, her slick walls squeeze me effortlessly sending small shockwaves that radiate throughout my body. 

Selene’s greatest strength lies in her ability to deliver words veiled in dual meaning with a smile on her face, telling you what exactly it is you wish to hear and consistency. She keeps this ridiculously languid pace, riding my cock so slowly that it almost feels like torture, but I know what it is she’s waiting for. 

Seizing her hips to still her, “Selene, is this how you treat your husband? You’re not even trying to fuck yourself on my cock, maybe I’ll take it away, make you watch as I fist it myself, not letting you enjoy it…” There’s a sudden sharpness in her eyes, she loves this, when I speak to her like this. “I suggest, you fuck yourself properly, darling.”

The groan that claws its way from my lungs, is deep and full of lust as she slams herself back down onto me, and it would be humiliating if anyone ever saw or heard it. But it’s alright, no human servants in this house, only droids. It’s marvelous the way she rides me now, hard and fast like she knows I love.

“That’s it, darling.” My voice is harsh, “You love this, don’t you? Impaling yourself on my cock; say it.”

Again, my perfect wife responds in a way that makes my cock swell inside her, those delicate hands of hers slither up her body once more seeking out the soft flesh of her breasts to stroke and tease. 

“I love it, it’s so damn good. I’ve missed your cock.”

Well, that certainly makes two of us, “Going to make yourself come over my cock, are you?” She doesn’t really answer me after a particularly sharp thrust of my hips, she just whimpers and continues toying with her nipples. “Do it, Selene, make yourself come.” 

She nods quickly before one hand slips between her legs and her delicate fingers seek out that sweet little cluster of nerves, now she truly jolts against me, with each swipe of her fingers over her sensitive clit while she continues to ride me. “Good girl, keep touching yourself, Selene. I’ll need to keep this memory for when I return to Starkiller Base.” She whines at the mention of my departure and slows her pace, whimpering for me not to leave, that she needs me.

I thrust upward so hard and sharp that it steals her breath in a gasp, “I’m going to give you one minute, if I don’t feel your cunt squeezing my cock like a vice, then rest assured, darling, I’ll make you.”

It entertains me to witness her eyes widen, a sudden acceleration in her movements. Her fingers, in a frantic quest for liberation, deftly navigate each twist, flick, stroke, and tap. She assumes the guise of a puppet, yet her tenacity prevents her from collapsing onto me, even as I persist in thrusting into her hips. I grant her a degree of indulgence; after all, I've assigned her a task. It would be unreasonable to anticipate my beloved, enraptured wife to split her attention in such circumstances. I, after all, am a man of reason.

I can feel each little squeeze that accompanies the taps and circles over her aching clit, her eyes have closed and she’s trying so hard to come for me, seeing her like this, watching her delicate fingers bring her closer to orgasm while I watch, perhaps I’ll give my wife a little help. I seize her hips again and stop her movements entirely, her bewitching eyes open and she stops her movements in confusion.

I sit up enough to grab her by the back of the neck and force a kiss onto her that makes her clench me, “Is it so hard, what I’ve asked?” My kiss is hard and she groans into it, “Am I so unreasonable as to want to feel you come before I fuck you into the bed?” She can barely utter the word ‘No’ “Darling, I’m going to lie here while you warm my cock and watch you come for me again, and you’re going to, aren’t you?” I allow her to nod, “My poor cock drunk wife, can’t even speak properly,” I chuckle darkly, “So beautiful, well go on, Selene, I’ll even restart your minute but don’t you dare disappoint me.”

I sink back into the bed and breathe the fire out of my lungs with my hands clasped behind my head in pure indulgence and in truth, there can’t be a more luxurious place in the galaxy than where I currently lay. Cockdrunk she may be, but the day we met she promised me she would be a portrait of obedience and in that regard, she has never strayed, not even here. And she doesn’t disappoint me, no longer burdened with having to focus on riding my cock, though she rocks against me every so often, reminding me of just what kind of hold this woman has on me.

The sudden slap she gives her pussy both shocks and thrills me, what has my darling wife been up to in my absence? But it’s nothing compared to the show she gives me now, her eyes flutter closed again and her head lols back in pleasure, those delicate fingers of her teasing, twirling, tapping, and tickling. Then I hear it; her words. 

More than the typical medley of cries of affirmation, pleading for more, no, not those. She’s speaking to me. Telling me how she loves it when I command her, that nothing makes her want me more. The endless stream of devious thoughts she’s had while she’s pleasured herself in our bed sometimes in my clothes, interspersed with wanton moans as she drifts closer and closer to the orgasmic release I commanded of her.

This minute I’ve given her may very well be the longest minute of my life and test my resolve.

There’s no Crono on the wall but I can measure the cadence of a minute perfectly on my own down the fraction of a second and I’ve given her a full minute; she’s maybe fifteen seconds in and I can already feel how close she is. I’m frozen in place at the spectacle, I can’t take my eyes off of her, every twist and turn of her gorgeous hips, the way her breasts rise and stutters to a fall when the sensations become overwhelming, it’s hypnotizing. 

Selene may have been a virgin in body when we met, but her mind was far from innocent, still, she’s never given me anything like this. Calling my name, telling me what I do to her, how she wants me to touch her, she wants me to be rough with her. I can feel my mouth going dry and all I can do is stare back as that moment finally crashes upon her, radiating out from where her fingers are trembling.

In the intimate darkness, her voice calls out my name, a whisper laced with longing and desire. Her inner muscles tighten and release in a rhythm only we share, creating a magnetic pull that threatens to engulf me in the waves of ecstasy. The sensation is overwhelming, her essence wrapping around me like a silken cocoon, enticing me to surrender to the allure of climax. Yet, with every fiber of my being, I resist. The journey into the abyss of pleasure can wait; I have unfinished business with her.

The erratic fluttering of her walls, the way they grip and squeeze my cock, and tests my control as I navigate the tempest of sensations, holding onto the reins of restraint as her siren's song beckons me towards the edge. I savor every moment, every gasp and moan, as I prolong the inevitable. The tension in my body is palpable, a delicious ache that only adds fuel to the fire. I revel in the sweet torture of denial, determined to explore every inch of her before we reach the crescendo.

Her flushed skin bears the mark of exertion, and each breath escaping her lips carries the weariness of a race run hard. Leaning against my chest for support, the subtle tremor in her legs betrays the physical toll of her efforts. I respond instinctively, reaching up to cradle her face in my hands. At that moment, my eyes reflect a potent mix of darkness and possession. The realization hits me once again – this woman belongs to me. While not a newfound revelation, the sight of her complying with my wishes, as if finding pleasure in doing so, unravels something within me. Decorum, carefully maintained in other moments, now slips away like sand through fingers, leaving behind an unbridled sense of desire and connection.

I want to see it again.

This soon might be asking a bit much but I love how this creature mewls in response, she shudders as my fingers make their way down her sides following the delicate curve of her hips, holding her there and making her rock against me, in a way that tears a moan from her throat, one that sings of a hint of pain. Perhaps I can coax pleasure from her another way.

"Such a good girl," I express to my wife, showering her with gentle kisses on her lips to alleviate the heightened sensations that come from an orgasm. "You look so beautiful like this, atop my cock, coming for me." I am a terrible man. "But I wonder," my lips move to her neck, exhaling warmth, "Can you do it again?" 

This soon might be asking a bit much but I love how this creature mewls in response, she shudders as my fingers make their way down her sides following the delicate curve of her hips, holding her there and making her rock against me, in a way that tears a moan from her throat, guiding her movements in a manner that elicits a moan from her throat—a sound that echoes both pleasure and a hint of pain. Perhaps I can coax pleasure from her another way.

"Feeling a bit tender, darling?" 

Her response is accompanied by a subtle swallow,  "A little."

"Well, we can't have that. Need to take care of my wife, reward her for being so good for me." I say, my tone hinting that I'm far from satisfied, and I sense a subtle retreat from her.

I encircle her waist with my arm, gently rolling us over, my cock regrettably slipping from her slick heat and a throbbing, persistent ache envelops my body. "Would you like to know what I've missed about touching you?" She nods, easing into the moment as my fingers delicately trace small circles around her navel, and my lips tenderly graze her neck and I can’t help but grin. “Close your eyes.”

Selene is a formidable presence, unyielding in the face of anyone, including me. Yet, within the confines of these doors, she becomes pliable under my touch and she closes her eyes. Every tender spot elicits delightful sounds—soft whimpers, moans, and mews. As my teeth graze her ear, I observe the shudders coursing through her flawless skin.

Her breath catches when my fingers follow a trail up her smooth stomach, and my lips hover over hers, just barely grazing in a manner that I'm aware drives her to the edge. Despite the tempting sensations tingling on her lips, she refrains from completing the kiss, knowing it would only bring an untimely maddening experience. 

Her lips part and only a sound of need escapes, even though she’s already had two orgasms, she wants more. I leave a trail of fire down her slender neck, sucking and licking. Her breathing has returned to a calm almost languid state, but she moans when she feels my hot breath on the swell of her breast, then the flicker of my tongue. Her lips tremble, I can’t see them but I know they are, I know exactly how she reacts to my touch, and In a matter of moments, she’s ready to come for me once more. 

“Missed how sensitive you are,” 

Wrapping my lips around the hard bud I suck softly and my tongue draws lazy circles furthering her state of arousal. Her chest heaves now deeply as she takes in lungfuls of air in a desperate attempt to assert some control over her body. But she can only do so much, and when I press my thigh between her legs and my thumb and index finger gently pinch her neglected nipple she’s lost the ghost of any control over the situation. 

Before Selene, my relationships had been shallow and fleeting. The women I chose to spend time with required no emotional investment and left without a trace as soon as I was satisfied. However, my wedding night with Selene was an entirely different experience. She didn’t need to take her clothes off for me to want her, she captivated me with her intelligence and sharp wit; her presence alone set my heart racing. While I used to be indifferent to my partner's sexual needs before, now I found great pleasure in surrendering control to her, for the first time giving in to her deepest desires and exploring every inch of her body to bring her pleasure. Exploring ways to make her moan, sigh, and whimper brought me immense satisfaction, as though it were a challenge, all the many ways I could make her sing for me. 

My arousal builds as I move my lips over her perfect breasts, teasing them with gentle licks and soft suckles. As the heat between us rises, my cock throbs with desire for this woman - my wife. Her wordless moans echo throughout the room, sending shivers down my spine and intensifying my desire to please her even more. A deep, almost consuming, pleasure surges through me as I taste the sweat on her skin and my tongue rolls against her supple breast. She murmurs my name brokenly, like a plea that can barely be uttered. 

"What is it darling? Loth cat got your tongue?"  

With every motion of my hand comes another little gasp or whimper, and all I want is to give her more. Her hands grasp at me, clutching onto my shoulders for support and coiling in my hair pulling and twisting my regulation-styled hair but I can’t care less, and I feel a surge of primal possession wash over me. This woman had been given to me by my father, but it seemed like she had chosen me too. Her skin grows hotter under my palms and I can feel her entire body trembling with desire. 

The tension in the air is electric. I can feel her heart thumping against her chest. Her hands tighten around my shoulders nails digging into my skin in sharp little crimson marks. I keep her pinned against me, barely giving her an inch to move away, as she squirms against my thigh. I tasted the salt on her skin, running my tongue up along her collarbone. Her breath hitches, an indication that she’s close. I hover above her and speak with a hint of slyness in my voice. 

“Almost there, aren't you darling?”

I can feel her nodding her head silently. Everywhere my body touches hers, I feel her quivering with suspense and desire. I relish the power I have over her. She’s putty in my hands as I maneuver my mouth and tongue against her flesh, coaxing and teasing until she’s begging for mercy. My lips crash onto hers like a wave, taking ownership of every part of her. 

"Give me one more, then you're mine."

The way Selene responds to my every touch is intoxicating. My teasing of her nipples makes her moan, and my thigh pushing her closer only further intensifies her pleasure. As her back arches I latch onto her other breast, producing a desperate and sweet sound from her throat. She pulls at my hair with her fists, most likely unaware of how tight she holds on, but I welcome the slight pain. Her body trembles as the waves of orgasm cascade through it, and I feel an urge of possessiveness like never before. Watching her is more satisfying than any fantasy I've ever concocted - months have gone by since we’d been able to be together and finally having her brings me more enjoyment.

When the tremors subside I kiss her softly but I’m not received that way, she pulls my lips against hers with a nearly feral hunger. Her tongue demanding my mouth open to her, it’s difficult to withhold the groan in the back of my throat, hell, she’s earned it. Seems I’ve worked her up quite nicely, but before she gets carried away with this hunger I have something to tell her. Something that can’t wait. 

“That’s three.”

If she thinks she was the only one desperate to feel my cock impale then she was wrong, though I’d already buried myself in her slickness already, it was short lived, and I got a little distracted. I’ve still yet to come and I’ve seen to it that she’s enjoyed three exquisite peaks. I’m more than a little eager to enjoy what I know I’ve earned. 

But I don’t need to relay this information to her, Selene knows me and she’s desperately clawing at my shoulders and chest, trying to put me on my back. I comply somewhat, sitting back on my haunches stroking my cock, as she crawls towards me, an untamed look in her beautiful eyes. 

“Made a bit of a mess of me, darling,” She grins and that tongue of hers licks my thigh, tasting herself once more. 

Each swipe of her tongue thrills me, in public she’s a portrait of elegance, decorum, and propriety. But here? She’s pure sin, filth, desire, all the things I’ve thought of while fucking other women or while stroking my own cock in search of quick release. Her lips plant kisses up my thigh in between quick little flicks of her tongue that make it harder to focus on any thought other than where I want her mouth next. 

But my darling wife already knows this, already knows I’m satisfied with this foreplay and I’m ready to enjoy her oral skills. There’s no teasing of my cock with that sweet tongue of hers, no easing into it, just one moment her lips are on my thigh, and the next she’s swallowing my cock whole and I’m groaning loudly, not caring if the whole damn planet hears me.

“Kriff!” 

That sinfully sweet mouth of hers swallows my cock sucking and stroking with her tongue. My hips jerk in time with her and my head falls back and for a moment all I can do is revel in the sensations, trying to remember how to breathe to avoid hyperventilating. She moans onto my cock as if she enjoys the act as much as I enjoy receiving it, at the rate she’s going, she’ll be swallowing my cum in minutes. 

She still can’t quite take all of me but she’s certainly progressing, taking more and more each time, and whatever her mouth can’t manage those dangerous hands of hers help along. Slim and silky fingers work the remainder of my shaft, while her mouth sucks on the crown of my cock, like she’s enjoying a favored treat. It’s exquisite, like velvet massaging my length in ways my own hand is incapable of replicating.

My chest expands with each breath as she continues her oral ministrations, practically drooling over me, her hand twists and strokes my length in tandem, moaning every so often, I can feel the reverberations each time she does it. She hollows her cheeks and sucks me into her mouth, deep-throating as much of me as she can, engulfing my aching cock in the delicious heat of her mouth. She’s trying to get me to cum, it’s wet, sloppy, and her lips are swollen and red, slick with saliva. She could slay a man with that mouth of hers. 

“Trying to make me cum so soon? Can’t have that, darling. I’ve only started with you tonight.” My hands  hands tangle into her hair, squeezing just enough, to send the correct message, slow down. She reluctantly slows her pace and I breathe a sigh of relief now that I don’t have to worry about fighting an orgasm so quickly, stars know it would have been a struggle. 

My head falls back once more and I can feel my eyes drift shut. I don’t know how she can manage it with her mouth as full of my cock as it is, but each time her lips slide up and down I can feel the tip of her tongue tracing the underside of my length in a devilishly, almost ticking sensation and my hips jolt slightly. This is perfection, my wife on her knees eagerly pleasuring me lazily as though there isn’t anything else she’d rather be doing. 

I suck in a harsh breath when she focuses on the crown of my cock sucking gently, her sweet tongue circling slowly, dipping into my slit licking up the precum that leaks. Her hands never stop, one slowly strokes me sliding up and down with a twisting motion, the other, I can feel the pads of her fingertips as she lovingly begins playing with my balls, massaging, squeezing gently drawing all manner of guttural sounds from me. 

I’ll never forget the first time I was treated to the delights of her talented mouth, she woke me up like this the morning after we were wed, I’ve had women suck me off before, but to be woken by such a thing? Glorious. And here I thought I had tired her out sufficiently after that night, apparently not, seemed my new wife had quite the sexual appetite.

The suction of her mouth has increased in intensity and she’s moaning onto my cock, if she comes from this I’ve no idea what I’ll do with her.

“Selene,” My voice stutters slightly and the deep rumble in my chest reverberates throughout my body, if she keeps going I’ll paint the back of her throat in ropes of my cum. “Darling,” It’s difficult to get the word out, she’s so damned brilliant at this, I’ve got to practically wrench her from my cock by tugging on her hair and the creature whines like a little brat when I forcibly remove her though a thin string of saliva connects her lips to me still and I feel my gut churning. 

I cradle her neck, elevating her into a kiss where our tongues intertwine with raw hunger, a fusion of desires—hers and mine. The notion of marriage entwining with my career, initially perceived as a burden and disappointment, has evolved into an ineffable connection with a woman who mirrors my intellect, ruthlessness, and passion. Drawing her onto my lap, I relish the sensation of her attempting to draw nearer, attempting to satiate a need that has grown insatiable.

“As remarkable as those lips of yours are, I’d much rather bury my cock between these lips.” She moans when I dip my fingers between her legs, slowly teasing that little button of hers before dipping past it grunting when her heat engulfs my finger and she bucks into my hand. 

“Oh, we are ready, aren’t we?” My voice is needier than I like, but it can’t be helped, it’s simply what she does to me, but it’s not without its benefits. I let her fuck herself on my finger for just a moment.

I grab her thighs pulling her into my lap and her arms wrap around my neck, “S’going to feel so good.” I mutter into her neck as I line up my cock with her slick opening, smearing some of the wetness there before I plunge upward, seating myself entirely inside her, my entire body nearly crumpling. “Tell me, darling, tell me.”

Her moan is loud and with not a care for who hears her, her whole body writhes against mine as she adjusts. It’s almost unbearably tight after months of nothing and three orgasms in quick succession, but I need her words now, need her to tell me the things she knows I crave to hear. 

“Stars! Slow! I need to feel you!” As the lady wishes. “I’ve missed feeling you split me open, missed how deeply you fuck me.” She growls the words into my ear, and I can do nothing about the tremors that shake me with each slow thrust “Fuck your wife with your perfect cock, make me come for you again, cum for me, General Hux.” There’s such ferocity in her voice when she utters the last words with such exquisite annunciation of my name, that I feel only a surge of primal lust when I thrust up, seating myself completely into her cunt and she cries out. “I’ve want you!” She cries in a hoarse whisper.

She is my sanctuary. 

I never fathomed the depth of my yearning for such declarations. Undoubtedly, genuine admiration always finds its way to curry favor with me. Yet, the commendations Selene shares, whispered against my lips, professing how she's yearned for my presence and how sleep eludes her in my absence—those words hold sway over me that surpass any experience I've known. Her pleas for a deliberate pace, the longing in her voice as she implores my touch, the urgency in her desire for me to surrender to her—these sensations evoke a facet of my being previously dormant. A hunger for both emotional and physical connection emerges, revealing an aspect of myself I never envisioned. She assures me that I provide her with a haven, and she tells me she loves me.

The first time she uttered those words, it seemed utterly absurd. Love me? Who would entertain such a notion for someone like me? The echoes of my father's abuses resonated in my mind, the years of disparaging remarks reinforcing the belief that I was destined for nothing and unworthy of my position. Then entered Selene. As she came into my life, my father's cruel words gradually faded into the background. 

The revelation occurred after I confessed my role in orchestrating the demise of her father. Anticipating a torrent of anger, I was met with the unexpected. Instead, she threw herself into my arms, showering me with praise and affection. Something within me, long confined, was unleashed. Her declaration left me dumbfounded, a frozen moment of disbelief. I couldn't fathom it.

I clutch her tightly as she grinds on my cock, squeezing me so perfectly I just might cum right here and right now, it takes a moment for me to assert control over my own body once more enough so that I’ll last more than a minute. Poor dear is wriggling against me, eager for further stimulation, seems I’ve grown distracted by my own thoughts, my darling wife is ready for more.

She cries for more like a spoiled child wanting more treats.

I wrap her hair in my fist and jerk her head back to expose her delicate throat to me before I thrust up and hard. “This what you want?” I say as I bottom out with a groan.

She only pants and arches her back, my hand digs into her backside as I start a slow and deep rhythm, I won’t last terribly long, not for this first one. But I have a week here, a week to make her cry, make her cum, to fuck her in every conceivable position in every room of this house, making memories, as it were. She clings to me for dear life and with each thrust I can feel her grip on me tighten round my neck, her cries come in little, sweet, incoherent, murmurs, no idea what she’s saying but I pick out the occasional word or two; she says my name, that she wants more, that she loves me, pleading for me to stay.

Selene’s moan of approval, makes my skin prickle, it’s perfect, she’s perfect, and she’s all mine. My shoulders shudder slightly and a few ragged breaths come out hinting at how frayed the cord of my restraint is. 

“It’s like your body was made for me.” There’s the slightest tremor in my voice and my breath comes out of deep and shallow bursts with each slow thrust. A loud crack of Thunder makes her jump and as a result, she clenches me tightly enough to make me growl and shudder. “Maker, Selene!” 

“Faster, Armitage. Please,”

Stars. The things I’ll do for this woman, especially when she says ‘please’ while full of my cock. I nod, unwilling to resist her plea and increase my pace, but keep my thrusts shallow. If I switch to deep and fast then it will be over for both of us before I know it. I need to draw this out just a little bit longer, I’m not ready for it to end just yet.

My thrusts slow and I kiss her before withdrawing from her enitrely. “Turn around.” 

My hands on her hips guide her to face away from me. She assumes I wanted her from behind on all fours but when she leans forward I stop her. My arm locks around her waist pulling her against my chest. “Not quite.” I correct my well-intentioned wife, “Spread your legs, Selene. That’s it.” A hand slips between her legs, teasing her clit, and she writhes against my chest still a bit sensitive but eager for more, rolling her head side to side, moaning incoherent babbly resembling my name. My cock throbs, so close to her dripping core. With a shift of my hips and a quick thrust upward with a strained grunt, I’m back where I belong. At this new angle along with each sweep of my fingers and thrust of my hips Selene mewls in ecstasy.

One arm around her waist, the other buried between her legs, the angle is perfect, despite how my legs continue to burn but the way she squeezes his cock with each slow thrust more than makes up for any discomfort. I buried my face in her neck breathing in deeply of her scent as one of her hands cards through my disheveled hair, raking her nails up the back of my neck and along my scalp. The sensation causes my hips to briefly falter and a deep groan to radiate from my chest. 

“Missed this! Missed how perfectly your cunt squeezes my cock.” The arm that‘s wrapped around her waist moves up her body and guides her face to mine. “Kiss me, Selene.” My voice is thick and full of desire and she complies, unable to deny me what I want.

My hand between her legs continues to tease and stroke offering occasional gentle taps to her clit that shakes her entire frame between my painfully slow thrusts, she cries into my mouth a weak protestation. I can always taste how desperate she is, can feel it in how rigid she goes as though she’s trying to focus on pleasure exclusively. So needy in my arms so eager to come for me. “Tell me how you want me.” I husk, releasing her kiss-bitten lips. Grunting after a particularly hard thrust and tight squeeze that sends shivers down my spine. “Should I put you on your back? Or do you want to look down at me while you ride my cock?” My ability to maintain coherent thought and well-composed sentences while fucking her is really quite unfair. I thrust slower and harder, “I know, so difficult to choose, isn’t it?”

“This! Like this…!!”

I bite back a moan in agreement with another particularly slow thrust.

She kisses me and pulls my hair roughly earning a groan from me that caused me to buck harder against her. 

My arm wraps tightly around her, and my thrusts come faster and harder. My legs burn exquisitely from our position but I can’t be bothered to move as the torrent of euphoria bares down on us both, if this is how Selene wants me then this is how she’ll have me. My hand threads through her hair and I tug slightly, pulling her head back far enough that I can kiss her deeply. “This what you wanted, darling?”

“Yes! Maker! I love it when you’re rough with me…”

I groan again. Those words, those filthy, unladylike words, my chest heaves, my hair is now a delightful mess, and my eyes are clouded over in a hungry haze. “Keep talking like that and I won’t last much longer.”

“Keep fucking me like this and I won’t either!” Her breath hitches in her throat and her legs begin to tremble, her clit aching from all the stimulation, hungry for the next orgasm.

“One more! Once more, darling!” I say into her neck before kissing her again. She feels too good, as much as I want to fuck her for longer I’ve given her quite the workout, she’ll sleep for hours after this. The strongest storm Arkanis has to offer won’t be able to rouse her. So I let go, my hips snapping forward hard and deep and fast, just like she’s begged me for. “Going to fuck you like this all week, do you hear me?” 

My breath against her neck and my hand between her legs toying, teasing, tapping pushing her further and further along until the hot waves of release lap at her body. “Armitage! Yes, yes! Please!” 

“Going to cum in your pretty cunt,” She whimpers helplessly at my words, its words like these whispered harshly mid-thrust that sends her over the edge, I can hear my own voice shaking now. “Selene Hux, come for me, come for your husband!”

Something about saying that name, hers with mine, it does her in and her walls clench and flutter around my cock as if trying to pull me in farther than is possible, she screams as my own climax finally hits me like a meteor. A powerful shockwave to rival the most powerful weapon systems of the First Order pulses through my body and I can hear myself cry out: “Mine!” 

My thrusts are more frantic and my fingers continued their sensual dance her hips buck furiously against my hand. She calls my name over and over a final orgasm rips through her body, giving her no quarter, nor time to recover. 

Her voice cracks and breaks and her whimpering cries for me to fuck her grow to be too much for me I seize both her hips and push her forward onto the bed before driving forward, hard. Bottoming out again and again, her tight, wet heat strangling my cock from her previous orgasms sets me on a course for nirvana, and I chase it. 

My vision blacks out briefly in the throes of my all-encompassing orgasm and I seize up and roar as I spill hot seed into her, feeling her wall crush me and take me eagerly. “Fuck!”

I thrash against her wildly, not caring for anything else in the galaxy, chasing that orgasm before it slips away drinking it in, its tendrils wrapping around my body touching every nerve, causing them to pulse and overreact to any stimuli to the point that my own body doesn’t know what orders to obey. I feel perfect, I feel powerful, I feel desired, I feel everything as I empty into her body with rope after rope of hot cum and she takes all of it writhing against me.

The sensation gradually fades and slows as the last of the burning embers of orgasm fade then sputter out of existence and we’re left in the aftermath of our passion. The storm is considerably quieter now having exerted its strength and only the sound of our breathing breaks the tension in the air. I collapse onto my forearms on either side of her head. Deeply exhausted but sated like no other, the room smells of sex and sweat and we’re both a mess.

We sink into the plushness of the bed, and I exert deliberate restraint, resisting the urge to press Selene into the mattress too firmly. My entire frame quivers; it's been months since our last reunion, and during that time, it's easy to underestimate the profound intensity that exists between us. The sheer pleasure of her body against mine threatens to overwhelm me, and I can't suppress the involuntary shudder as I withdraw from her warmth. Her skin, cool to the touch, invites my attention. 

I sweep her hair delicately over her neck, revealing her face, and deftly shift us so that she lies on her back. Strands of her ebony hair cascade over the bed, and a delightful blush graces her cheeks, a testament to the satisfaction of her every desire and more. She resembles a contented cat, poised to drift into slumber. Naturally, she belongs nestled in my arms, and with minimal encouragement, she finds her place tucked against my side. I leisurely kiss her, savoring her lips like one relishing a cherished confection.

“Well, that’s four. I suppose we’ll have to work on your stamina throughout the week, darling.” 

~~~

Well, got THAT out of my system... I needed to take a short break from my two primary stories; Unbreakable Bonds and Shadows of Deception. Just working on the WIP grind and honestly it'd be WAY easier if these one shot idaes weren't popping up like a damn whack-a-mole! Oh well, one more down. Lets see which one pops up next! Hope you guys enjoyed this and as I mentioned it is inspired by Thunderstorms by @ladyinwriting18 and you should absolutely go check out her content she's a truly amazing writer and just released a Reylo fic that is to die for! She also has amazingly adictive TikTok content, and you can also support her on patreon! Her Obi-wan, Hux and Maul audios are... -chefs kiss- pitch perfect! Happiest of holidays to you all my Macabrlings!

[kukkirankindon]

Is it bad that I simp for an angler fish, ■■■, blue whale, great white shark, silver spinyfin, mantis shrimp, and sea snake hybrid??? :)

[kjoadrien]

Everybody Wins

[bitchthefuck1]

you know what, I actually will talk about this because it's bothering me. The issue with focussing so heavily on syd and carmy's potential for a romantic relationship isn't that there's something inherently unintellectual about romance or whatever, it's that a lot of people seem incapable of doing that without immediately flattening the story and ignoring or intentionally misreading any and all nuance for the sake of that romance. Every scene suddenly becomes about how it impacts their relationship, every analysis is done through a romantic lens, every frame or line of dialogue becomes about finding some easter egg or hint that "proves" these people should start dating. Their dynamic is absolutely a fundamental part of this show, but if you can only see it as a will-they-won't-they, you miss so much of what the story is actually trying to say with these two.

There are good versions of this story where their relationship is romantic and there are good versions of this story where it isn't, but as soon as you decide them being together is "the point," you lose the ability to actually judge the story for what it is, not what you want it to be.

[mugentakeda]

the tapping of his fathers pacing on the tile is almost enough to drive him mad.

“don’t let your brother’s incessant whining cause you to falter. this is merely a short visit to discuss the matter at hand, and then you’re on your way right back to ba sing se. he will try and whisper doubt in your ear.” the firelord stops to shake a finger at him. “do not listen to him for anything! i will help you in the best of my ability to have this taken care of.”

“i’m not,” iroh snaps impatiently, digging his palms into his eyes. “i’m not listening to him, father. he doesn’t care for lu ten and he doesn’t have to. he has his house and i have mine. empty words have little meaning to me at the moment.”

his father purses his lips. the sting of his stare digs down to the core.

“you say that,” azulon snaps, “but i believe this to be a family affair. its possible lu ten was taken advantage of because he was too busy protecting ozai’s wife and ozai’s children to protect himself. if that’s true, then ozai owes him. i don’t give a damn if he cares about him as his nephew or not. lu ten honored his house, so he shall honor lu ten in return by shutting his trap for once.”

iroh doesn’t have the strength to respond. he’d left ba sing se in a rush after receiving the news, and ordered the shipmen to get him back home on the double. he’s sick, he’s tired, he’s terrified and angry, and he misses his son something awful. the last thing iroh cares about right now is what ozai does or has to say.

there’s a heavy, sad sigh from above him. azulon slowly makes himself comfortable on the sitting cushion next to him, grunting as his bones creak. he sets the knocked over teacup straight again and refills it. the familiar heat and fragrance does nothing to soothe iroh, however.

“there is nothing i can say to make you feel better as of right now,” his old man mutters, sitting the teapot back down with uncharacteristic gentleness, “nor can i say anything sure about ursa or the children. but lu ten, he…. he is a remarkable young man. thick skinned and ornery. lightning generation at only 21, can you believe that? he beat you by a whole year. you must have faith in him.”

“it’s not about having faith in my son, father, of course i have faith in my son. but i have no faith in whoever has- has stolen him from me!” iroh suddenly exclaims, gesturing wildly. azulon flinches as his hands come dangerously close to knocking over the tea again.

your boy flagrantly disrespected you and stayed home to laze around, ozai had hissed, his narrow eyes locked straight up at the throne. both were kneeling before their father’s throne, side by side. i don’t know why you even bother. if he thinks he’s so grown up then he can save his own skin.

iroh didn’t bother to respond. he has nothing to say to his brother even on the best of days. all his life, he’s been nothing but a background character to iroh. always insisting on holing up in his room or office, never joining family dinners or celebration banquets. never one to offer his congratulations, but expects his older brother to offer his. yet, he always liked to think his word was of any significance to iroh. that he was always to be heeded. respect to his elders only means something to his little brother if there’s something to be gained.

flagrant disrespect. lu ten did not disrespect him if iroh never directly asked or ordered anything of him in the first place. he implied it, and lu ten pushed back. it hurt, but it would’ve also been the boys first true venture outside the fire nation. so iroh understood the hesitancy.

iroh would’ve just had lu ten by his side in his war council anyway. he would’ve never seen the battlefield or the city until iroh leveled it. not a spot of green would be spared by his men.

he had envisioned himself shooting a hole right through the flimsy palace wall with his lightning, and his son by his side. winning.

nothing has gone the way you made it out to be, great spirit. i don’t feel very lucky, as of late. the evening sun peaking through the tall windows of the corridor offer his thoughts no response. the general sighs heavily, and continues on his way.

the royal procession had gone through the beach house, along with the rest of the island. not a trace left behind. no sign of a struggle, either.

the procession claims it’s like they vanished out of thin air, sir, jee had whispered.

delicate situations such as this one call for holding the ones you trust most closer than ever. thus, iroh took only his personal guards from ba sing se back with him. jee is a rugged and introverted man, one that iroh knows can keep a secret, so he has been acting as his messenger man and valet for the time being.

another member of his most trusted circle is one of his longest working servants, one that belongs to iroh’s house personally. her name is su, and she is a stout woman around his father’s age. stern and silent, but trustworthy. she was the one that kept a close eye on lu ten from a distance during the periods of time iroh wasn’t around in his youth. she had been the midwife at his birth, she had been the one to pick the wet nurse.

and she had slipped iroh a journal outside of lu ten’s room. leather bound and stained in a deep red, with delicate embroidery of lotus flowers decorating its cover. it looked like something the lady ursa would gift him.

i came across this left behind in lady ursa’s garden, your highness, she had murmured fiercely. i snatched it right up and held it for you upon your return, lest it fall into the wrong hands.

the dark, warm silence of iroh’s own chambers is a small comfort, but the cold leather of the journal in his hands chains him to the cruel reality.

one of the vows iroh made for himself when lu ten came into puberty was that he would never violate his son’s privacy. he’d like to think that his son’s life possibly being in danger is a good enough reason to break it, but it still feels… wrong. especially now that he’s an adult himself.

it’ll be like eating a dollop of wasabi, he tells himself. spicy and painful one moment, then fading tingling the next.

with a sigh, he cracks it open to the back page. a few lines of familiar scrawl.

and the reason i torture myself trying to ignore all these things about him that bother me is because….

he looks away, shame crawling up his back. the candle sitting at the corner of his desk flicker along with his irregular, fear ridden heart.

a dollop of wasabi, he reminds himself. he opens his eyes again with a long breath and looks back down at the journal once more.

…well, that’s the crux of it. i just don’t know how to finish that sentence anymore.

that tells him a whole lot of nothing.

iroh flips the page back again, and is immediately overwhelmed by completely filled pages. then startled, by the sheer amount of times his own name pops up to his searching eyes among walls of scrawled text.

unease curls in his gut, like a dragon slowly rising from a slumber.

the ink doesn’t look too old. and su had said she found it in the lady ursa’s garden. and then jee said the royal procession claimed the fours’ trip to ember island was only to last three days, tops.

and as far as iroh knew, lu ten had been keeping quietly busy after iroh’s departure to ba sing se. lu ten willingly buried himself in paper work, always hunting for things he had the power to make into his business. training with lightning generation was grueling, and took hours, on top of the meditation necessary. and it takes a clear mind to even work with lightning, so…

had he done something recently to upset lu ten, and didn’t realize it? what things about iroh did lu ten torture himself trying to ignore? dramatic wording like that is difficult to overlook.

the general thinks back to how well his son can hide his emotions. lu ten’s court face beats even ozai’s, so it made him a gnarly pai sho opponent, but… he never did the backhanded comments. he can lie, but he’s a man of action before a plotting one. so you’ll never see the storm coming until it hits you directly in the face.

the letters he got back from him in ba sing se were… neutral. unbothered. he hadn’t seemed very troubled at the palace gates during his departure, either. tired and a bit wary, maybe.

but now that he thinks about it, the way lu ten looked at him had been… strange. his eyes had an emotion swirling in them that the general couldn’t read.

he rapidly rolls over the most recent letters in his head, the days right before leaving, trying to think of what he might have done to set lu ten off-

…the tiff they had on the evening before iroh’s departure.

he had forgotten about it completely.

spirits, he’d forgotten about it by the time he stepped foot on the shore. the elation of finally arriving at ba sing se, the first big step toward fulfilling the biggest thing he’s wanted to accomplish his entire life, the ultimate win, decades of planning and dreaming, inspired by agni herself…

he’d been caught up in the heat of the moment.

it didn’t even turn into an actual argument, that’s how small the tiff had been- a few things thrown back and forth during their private dinner, and the rest of it had been spent in awkward silence. iroh had let his hurt get the better of him, and he got testy.

the only thing that spoiled his ongoing luck, his relief of finally being able to go and crush his country’s most stubborn opponent, to make the second biggest win since sozin- was his own son not joining in, or showing any interest.

and that wasn’t even it. the closer iroh and his advisors got to bringing their planning to a conclusion, the more withdrawn lu ten became. whenever iroh brought it up, his son would close like a firelily in the night.

i assumed you were above teenage rebellion, iroh had muttered. i understand you want accomplishments of your own, but-

teenage rebellion? you’re joking, right? why do you always insist on- on patronizing me whenever we don’t agree on something? if you think you’re gonna guilt trip me into changing my mind, you’ve got it all wrong.

the disbelieving, ever so slightly shriller tone lu ten’s voice took on reminded iroh of his mother. she always had the habit of raising her voice a few pitches when she got upset. it reminded iroh of a coyote-eagle, once upon a time. the older lu ten got, the taller and leaner his face and physique became, the more time they spent apart, it’s like a vivid repeat of his mother. he even became a hand talker when iroh hadn’t been looking, just like fuhua.

(are habits hereditary, or had fuhua died after running away, and came back to haunt him?)

it’s probably best to start a bit further back in the journal. it might provide the context this father needs. he flips the pages for a few moments, and stops at random.

i spoke with a gentleman from the earth kingdom today during my observational trip through the colonies closest to the homeland. if you didn’t look close enough, you would’ve thought him to be any old fire nation fisherman, but i know green eyes when i see them.

his wife was a sailor that hails from caldera city. they met across the seas, in a neutral port town. they have two young twins, just barely older than zuko and azula. isn’t that something?

now, that is something iroh never bothered doing when he was a young man- it’s only now that his joints won’t let him run around chasing skirts anymore that he’s become a people person. but he’s proud of his boy for taking that initiative and having such a sense of responsibility, to go and mingle with the common man. an empathetic ruler that’s popular with his people will have the surest and furthest reaching authority, after all. iroh couldn’t name a single councilman off the top of his head that would be willing to even breathe the same air as a commoner, much less a colonial mutt.

however… this isn’t a colonial. he’s too keen on the idea of his family members’ abductors being petty, revenge seeking crooks from the earth kingdom to be okay with the idea of his son even conversing with one. for all they claim to be true and steadfast, them sneaking in and attacking an unarmed woman and her young children in their beach house just to get back at iroh is all too realistic of an idea.

but lu ten wasn’t unarmed. lu ten is one of the strongest men in the fire nation, and iroh isn’t even being biased about that. it takes prodigy to conjure lightning, and mastery to control it. and lu ten was very protective of ursa and the children- almost too protective. back in the day, during celebration parties at the palace, lu ten would damn near prowl around a pregnant ursa to fend off the careless crowd, lest they bump into her and jostle her. and he’d only been just a young teenager himself, so it was like watching a polar bear puppy that thought itself a snarly guard dog.

then a few years ago, there had been an incident where lu ten claimed zuko’s instructors were smacking him around. he’d grabbed both of the men by the collar and dragged them both viciously through the palace and right out the door- only after the sharpest scolding iroh’s ever heard since his mother was still alive. he’d never seen his son so angry. he’d chuckled at the way those old instructors had babbled apologies and fell to lu ten’s feet, while patting ursa’s back gently as she floundered.

no, it’s doubtful that an old fisherman had anything to do with it. earth kingdom or not. this is just something he needs to talk to his son about once he’s found. it would take a group of very strong benders to take lu ten down, at the very least.

he was wisecracking and friendly. we talked about his business, the officials that take care of the town and the surrounding environment, how he met his wife. he even shared his lunch during our time together- grilled fish, fragrant with sumac and citrus, and a chilled earth kingdom style mint tea. it was refreshing and unique, and i want to do it again. you’d think the fire nation would pick up these little things as it expands, but it just drowns it all out. i’m not sure if that’s a good thing. what made the food good was its earth kingdom style and seasoning, after all. what made the man interesting was his earth kingdom raised manner.

…what made lu ten think it was a good idea to write such things in a journal, and then be so careless to just forget it in ursa’s garden? he’ll have to thank su for her keen eye. if someone lacking critical thinking happened to pick this up and turn it in to his father, he’d have to deal with his son having allegations of sedition on top of everything else.

iroh, personally, is more than happy to let all traces of chilled tea get drowned out. it’s a frequent and light hearted debate between a father and son, the do’s and don’ts of tea. iroh is a stickler for tradition and enjoying the natural flavors. the fire nation boasted only the most fragrant flowers to enhance only the most delicate flavors of only the finest tea blends, after all.

his son claimed it all tasted like dinky dirt water, and stubbornly stuck with his cold hibiscus teas with herbs, and his heavily spiced and creamed saffron teas. it had been a big joke back then, but now… not so much.

a whole lifetime of a father making his son tea, sharing one of his passions. conversations over tea, tea for soothing a sore throat after screaming matches with councilmen, tea to wash down sea water accidentally swallowed at the beach. traditional methods, ceremonies, porcelain pots precious enough to buy a whole town- but it’s dirt water. yet an old fisherman from their greatest enemy shares ice water with a few mint leaves in a tin cup, and its unique.

and he wants to do it again.

the personal betrayal somehow hurts more than the blatant treachery written out plainly on the paper.

to be honest, i think that it’s a great shame that a good man like that has to be careful on his own property-property he paid for with his own money and built with his own hands- due to being from the earth kingdom, even if he has a strong marriage to a fire nation citizen. i thought about it for a long time, and realized that even if he wasn’t loyal to the crown, i didn’t mind. i don’t get angry at the idea, and i don’t think i ever have. i didn’t even think about it until i left. he made good company, offered to share his food with me, and introduced me to his beautiful children as if i was his new neighbor. i think community like that is something the fire nation needs. especially the nobility, who you’d think all have iron sticks shoved up their asses.

interactions like that are the most important ones to me, because they challenge me the most. i hate to cheapen that by thinking i just enjoy being challenged to spite my traditions and elders, or to be contrarian. that’s what coming of age means to me- looking inward, and asking the big questions.

…this can’t be why lu ten has been so distant lately.

the general slowly shuts the journal in dull horror. how long has this sickness had time to fester his son’s soul?

he swallows hard, and gingerly slides the journal in the folds of his robes. under no circumstance can anyone get their hands on it.

and later, when his gut quits churning and the candles around him quit threatening to set his room on fire, he’ll read this whole journal, front to back. brand every sentence, every symbol into his eyes. then he’s gonna burn it, bring his son home, and ask him what the hell he’s thinking.

the next morning, after letting the foul scent of burnt leather fade from his chambers, iroh finds jee.

“what can i do you for, your highness?”

“i need you to bring me the finest bounty hunter money can buy,” iroh murmurs. there’s a madness in his eyes and in his grip now that he’s had time to ponder the contents of his son’s journal, and what they entail. “and no matter what, it stays between us. i do not care what measures you must take to keep it that way.”

jee swallows hard and salutes with purpose. the poor man must be able to his see stress all over his face, but he’s barely containing himself the way it is.

this was no kidnapping. the blasted earth kingdom has everything to do with it, naturally, but it was no kidnapping.

jee returns to him that evening, followed by a lovely young woman, head to toe in black leather. her gait oozes confidence, and her narrow eyes scream danger.

this is definitely not the kind of finest iroh meant by finest bounty hunter money can buy, but he’ll take it.

“…i’ve, uh. fulfilled your request, your highness,” jee says. he looks flustered, and is clearly refusing to even glance at the woman.

“with a few breaks in between, i’m guessing. your collar is uneven, soldier,” iroh deadpans. he’d call it a shame if he wasn’t curbing an episode at the moment.

jee makes a faint noise of distress and fumbles with his uniform, blushing a deep red. iroh realizes that was the wrong thing to say at how the fair lady scowls at the crude jab.

she shoves past jee with an aggressive shoulder clip and crosses her arms before the general.

“i was promised a shitload of coin in exchange for some missing royals,” she says, voice clipped. “i don’t like to work with your kind, but good money is good money. and i can promise better and quicker results than any phony bounty hunter in the world- my companion is a shirshu. she can sniff out a rat from a whole continent away.”

a shirshu, eh? it would seem my luck has made its return after long last.

“impressive,” iroh praises truthfully. he’s a weak man for crass and foul-mouthed women. “i’d like to take a look at this beast, and then we can discuss the details and prices. i also hope you’re alright with keeping this transaction under wraps, my dear.”

she sneers. “you can call me june. and i’d highly suggest keeping a few steps away from my nyla, for your own good.”

jee clears his throat. “i’d listen to that one, sir. her creature is something else.”

iroh hums pleasantly, and keeps a few paces behind june as they go. a strange calm has washed over him now that the universe finally makes sense to him again; he has a few more people he’d like to question, and he’ll be all set. then sooner, if he’s lucky, rather than later, his sister-in-law, his nephew, and his niece will all be found and returned home, safe and sound. his son will be in his arms, whole and unharmed. ba sing se will simply have to wait.

and if they’re lucky, the dragon of the west won’t have thought up a better solution to finally grinding their sorry ashes into their own dirt by the time he gets back. but regardless, he will win.

[total-drama-brainrot]

Season two's overall treatment of Caleb, and the last minute addition of how much he covets honesty, makes me wonder what an actual antagonist/villain Caleb would play out like.

Because an honest antagonist sounds like such a fun deviation from the norm. You very rarely see a villain who doesn't have to lie/cheat/manipulate their way through their respective plots, so having a guy who's so dead set on honouring his moral code to the point that it's detrimental to his relationships (and also potentially his place in the competition) would be a fun alley of thought to go down.

At the end of the day, the only thing that differentiates a total drama 'antagonist' from any other competitor is their ability to generate conflict and have others eliminated. Caleb's already shown a penchant for conflict generation through his poor communication skills (Priyaleb miscommunication plot, pretty much every interaction he has in s2e11) and tendency to prioritise his place in the competition (the deal he makes with Julia in s2e10), so it wouldn't be too hard for him to turn the tables on someone and have them eliminated.

I'm thinking something along the lines of him sparking a rivalry between himself and someone like Julia, then having them wager their votes/safety on a challenge or bet, which ultimately leads to the other being voted out without Caleb having to do anything dishonest or underhanded. Sticking by his deep-rooted morality whilst also tilting the game in his favour.

Because I think an antagonist who's threatening just by value of being good at the game is a lot scarier than someone who succeeds through trickery and subterfuge. He's playing by the rules, he's just playing better.

[dapperrokyuu]

Needing a Sua perspective from the ALNST auditions to Round 1. I never put much thought into what happens to the cast post-Anakt Garden graduation (do they immediately go to the auditions? Is there a period of time where they dont see each other until they recognize each other at the audition? Theres a considerable amount of time between the auditions and their Alien Stage season, did they see each other often between then or...? etc.), but regardless, imagine being her and having to choose between sabotaging your own audition so you dont have to go the the Sing, Win, or Die Show or putting your in your all in hopes of winning and spending just a bit more time with this girl you love because you know itll likely be the last time you see her. Imagine...

[thegreatwicked]

Greetings, my Macablings! Who might this scarred, red-haired, captivating creature be? None other than the father of my children! While it's not advisable to simp for a villain, delving into Hux's backstory reveals he's a product of years of systematic abuse. It doesn't excuse planetary destruction, but a sprinkle of love could have made him a vastly different character.

Regardless, I'm essentially justifying another SMUTTY Hux/OC one-shot in a long-winded manner.

In a world where the villains triumph, with the rebellion crushed, Hux, a rising military figure in the First Order, is tasked with projecting the organization's image. To complete the picture, he needs a wife. Hux chooses Selene Corvus, the daughter of the head of the merchants guild, for her beauty, intelligence, and tenacity. Surprisingly, they not only get along but can't keep their hands off each other. The story unfolds with Hux's unexpected visit to his home world, Arkanis, during a fierce thunderstorm, providing a perfect distraction for his wife.

Coming just as soon as I finish it! So maybe today or tomorrow!

[cryptvokeeper]

i havent even watched the new episode of dungeon meshi yet but just seeing all the posts abt it is bringing back memories of the manga and like.

Oh, right, it was actually really vital to have this episode go here.

Because we've just spent the last several episodes being told over and over by everyone around him that Laios is bad with people, that Laios is socially inept, that Laios cannot handle interpersonal party dynamics.

And all of that is 100% true! But it is absolutely vital to remember that even with zero social awareness whatsoever, Laios is still a good friend. He may not pick up on the typical, expected social cues but he does pick up on other things. He knows his friends' habits, their beliefs, their personalities, and uses those things to find differentiate his friends from the fakes. It ends up kind of overshadowed because he still has to go dogboy mode to actually defeat the monster, but Laios was right on all three counts. He still does it through the lens of his knowledge of monsters, and not the way a "normal" person might, but its the way that works for him and gives him at least some understanding of his team.

TLDR; Laios may be stupid but he's not an idiot and he knows his friends.

[wombrion]

that girlsgogames anon is so right your artstyle especially reminds me of devilish hairdresser ^^

yeas!! i remember watching a friend play that one when i was little.. it was very charming

[imminent-danger-came]

YOU think MK is a selfless forgiving good boi mc. I think he's self-centered, but that doesn't devalue the good deeds that happen as a result. We are not the same

[ambitions-of-an-eccedentesiast]

local pipsqueak gets startled by his own voice, more at ten.

Next->

<-Previous

[chatdae]

Grace FUMBLED Ryan! BAD parenting to preach respect and then act contrarily (ie saying she wants him to feel safe, then not allowing him any autonomy). She should've let him leave and come back... or at least explained why she didn't want him to leave before deciding (ex: 'Homelander will kidnap you', etc). She needed to let him make the decision for himself... agh. AAAAA.

And now Butcher's no use because he's committed to being evil and can't offer ANYTHING good to Ryan!!! He was so right, they NEEDED to give Ryan more space... I know the external pressures seemed impossible, but dammit, Grace, this was no way to beat the odds!

(this is about The Boys season four)

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

adding to my previous post junpei is so so confused he just wanna be friends w the guys who beat up his bullies so bad but turns out every crazy person he meets claim megumi as their boy

Junpei, not normal, trying to be normal for once: fushiguro's kind of cool. do you think he'd be okay with me hanging out with your group when i transfer?

nobara: *snorts loudly*

Junpei: is that a no

Nobara: fushiguro will be fine. you just have to get through the security detail first

junpei: sorry?

Nobara: fushiguro is apparently okkotsu yuuta's boy--

Yuuji, shouting, from the other room: WE HAVE NOT CONCLUSIVELY PROVEN THAT YET

Nobara: get over it itadori

junpei: ... what? sorry, who's okkotsu?

Nobara: we're not really sure yet, we haven't met him

Yuuji, at the exact same time, has been frothing at the mouth since he learned yuuta existed: some impossibly perfect and beautiful bastard who gets everything in life and does not get to take fushiguro from us too

Junpei: what

Nobara, thinks this shit is hilarious: technically fushiguro has been okkotsu's boy since before you even knew him. he'd have first dibs.

Yuuji: kugisaki you cannot just give up on this without a fight. fushiguro is our boy

Nobara, lying: you know i hear fushiguro and okkotsu are on first name basis. so techincally megumi is his boy

Yuuji: kugisaki say psych right now. kugisaki.

Junpei, so confused: sorry, i'm lost. who exactly is okkotsu?

Yuuji, angry, stomping away: he's the perfect man!

Junpei:

Nobara: he's our senpai currently studying abroad in africa. apparently he's kind of a big shot. and if the other second years are telling the truth, then he and fushiguro apparently have a very special relationship

Yuuji: THEY COULD BE LYING

Nobara: some weird shirtless asshole from another school tried messing with fushiguro and the second years told him to find a border and get over it because fushiguro was okkotsu's boy and he would snap him in half if he ever found out about this. and that he would absolutely find out about this because apparently inumaki senpai's a bit of a simp for him. so. honestly could be kind of fun to watch that fight.

Junpei:

Nobara: also apparently fushiguro doesn't know that everyone calls him okkotsu's boy so don't tell him.

Yuuji: NO ONES TELLING HIM BECAUSE THAT PERFECT SON OF A BITCH DOESN'T GET OUR BOY TOO KUGISAKI

Nobara: we are very obviously going to tell him. but consider. we can only tell him ONCE.

[carefulfears]

txf30 day 4: favorite dynamic (besides the obvious): scully/mulder/skinner

y’all mind if i ramble for a second?? there are so many connections that are so important to this story, but i always come back to these three. i think everything does.

i say that memento mori is the most loving episode of the series, but when i think about that one, it’s not even the kiss in the hallway that stays with me. it’s skinner coming in to work, the first time scully was in the hospital, and finding mulder sitting in his office. and he’s just been sitting there. bypassed the secretary (lol), and just sat and waited. he doesn’t have anywhere else to go.

and the way that skinner tells him, no. don’t do it to yourself under any circumstances. that he is not to risk himself to try to save scully. ultimately, it’s not mulder that made the deal with the devil, it’s skinner who didn’t follow his own advice. (gave up everything he has, to save them both).

and these are just two weirdos who work for him in the basement!! he doesn’t owe them anything. but he’s the one there, at the end, no matter what. he’s the one who comes to get them when they’re hurt, or lost, or need help. they’re his emergency contacts, the people who show up, the people who advocate for him. the people who know him. (the bigfoot division are a.d. skinner’s silly rabbits etc etc etc)

in iwtb, after six years away, it’s skinner who comes to get scully, on the side of the road, next to mulder’s flipped car. tells her that they will find him, that he’s okay, to breathe. it’s skinner that holds mulder on the ground, in the end.

when mulder went back to bellefleur, it's skinner that scully sent with him. that girl has never trusted a single soul to so much as breathe mulder's air, but "i won't let you go alone," is immediately followed by skinner packing the car.

like trish said last night:

i think telling scully he "lost" mulder was the hardest thing he ever did. skinner loves mulder too, but mulder is scully's entire world. and this time around, he won't let scully be alone the way mulder was.

(and the kindest thing scully ever did: squeezing his hand, saying "i already heard.")

(skinner returns the favor: he tells mulder about william, so that scully doesn't have to.)

my favorite moment in requiem is the final scene, the two of them crying together. the only two people. the only two people who know.

when she tells him that she's pregnant, he's the first to know. the only person to know, for most of her pregnancy. 18 years later, he's still the first person thinking of their baby, looking out for him.

honestly, it always comes back to sein und zeit for me. when after 7 years, after 27 years, mulder says that it's just too much, and he wants to go home. he wants time away from work. the sequence in the car: mulder in the backseat, skinner behind the wheel, scully on the passenger's side. for so many years, mulder had to be searching, so that he wouldn't be alone. but now he stands in front of two people who love him, and admits to needing a break. to wanting it to stop. he's guided, he's guarded.

skinner is a hardass. it's not easy to manage their madness. it's not easy to write the footnotes, to be the person waiting, in this particular story. but like he tells mulder, 14 years after they last worked together: not a day goes by where he doesn't just wish they were there, trying to make things better.

[vampemoqueen]

A VTM hot take

VTM is more of a crime thriller than a gothic horror. VTM is a game about underworld politics: sects, clans, and organizations fighting amongst themselves while also worrying about the law and innocent civilians. Vampirism and the Beast are more like complicating factors than the main source of angst. They're a means to find relevance and success in a cutthroat world where almost no one makes it out alive and happy.