#x rebel reader

[mistress-amidala]

𝐖𝐚𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬

❛ ᴜɴᴇxᴘᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ɪɴᴛʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ❜

PAIRINGS: Unburnt Vader x Rebel reader SYNOPSIS: You go on undercover mission as an Imperial, catching the eye of none other than the infamous sith lord, Lord Vader. One of your most notorious enemies, it's a good thing he knows you by your alias. Not by your face. For now at least... WARNINGS: Deceit, smut, swearing... NOTES: This is my first time writing smut so it is by no means a masterpiece. But I hope you like it. This Vader x rebel reader series I read ages ago inspired me to write my own. I can’t find it but if you know what I’m talking about please let me know.

「 You 」

Three years working for the Rebellion, and not once could I have pictured ending up… here.

Bent over, on the desk of Lord Vader. Yes, Lord Vader. Darth Vader, the Emperor’s apprentice. My breath came out shaky. No surprise considering I was being practically impaled by Darth Vader’s cock. Moan after moan tumbled from my lips, my jaw gone slack from my seemingly unending cries of pleasure. My fingers clutched the end of the table like my life depended on it. As it creaked from his unrelenting thrusts, his hips meeting mine. The slapping of skin echoed through the room, followed by his loud grunts and occasional whimpers. His soft yet calloused hands gripped my hips like a vice. My body rocking into the desk with each thrust, his cock stretching me out. It felt like he was about to split me in half, “doing so well for me sweetheart.” He grunts in between sharp thrusts. “Fuck…” He mumbles breathlessly, I could feel his length throbbing inside me. Looking down, I see his balls swinging with each thrust. The warm skin of his palm rubbing my back, “like what you see princess.” Reaching his remaining hand on your hip to your clit. Rubbing circles on the sensitive nub making me jolt. Letting out another moan, “mmm… You like that don’t you sweetheart?” He asks rhetorically, giving another sharp thrust. I squeeze my eyes shut tightly, my pussy clenching around his length. As my orgasm hits, cumming all over his cock.

He didn’t relent, continuing to forcefully thrust into me without fail. His cock drilling my cum back into me as he threw his head back. Moaning without shame, “f-fuck sweetheart.” He stutters and I feel his hips tremble as I whine in overstimulation. The tip of his cock kissing my cervix as his breath hitches, his hips jolt forward. Followed by the release of his warm seed, painting my insides white. He collapses forward onto me. His skin sweaty and his weight pinning me to the desk. As he gives a few more slow ruts, a soft whimper escaping him. “Mmm… think I’m gonna have to keep you all to myself.” He whispers, kissing in between my shoulder blades. Stilling his thrusts, running his warm hands up and down my sides gently in a soothing motion. “Hmm? Make you my little Empress, would you like that sweetheart?” He nuzzles into the crook of my neck. Planting soft kisses along the skin there as I caught my breath. “Bet you would…” He whispers, nibbling on my earlobe. “Could have everything you’ve ever dreamed, princess.” Giving my waist a gentle squeeze, “all you’d have to do is warm my bed darling. Have you on your back, taking my cock like a good girl…” He kisses the soft skin behind my ear, making me whimper. “Oh don’t be afraid darling, I’ll take such good care of you.” He whisper sweetly, gently prying my hands off the edge of the table. Rubbing the skin of my knuckles with his thumbs, releasing all the tension.

Intertwining our fingers, his thumbs stroking the back of my hands. He lets out a sigh, his warm breath hitting my neck. Goosebumps forming in its wake. He rests his chin on my shoulder, “how you feeling my sweet girl?” He asks softly, releasing one of my hands to gently brush the hair out of my face. Making me smile softly, oh maker. I nod slowly, trying to gather my thoughts. “I’m okay…” He chuckles softly, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. While brushing his fingertips along the skin of my cheek, ever so lightly. As if I’d break if he was any rougher, “yeah? You took me so well sweetheart. So proud…” He gives my shoulder a gentle kiss, I could feel his cock softening slightly. “M’gonna-” He gets cut off my his commlink going off. He groans in annoyance, giving my shoulder another kiss. Before pivoting his head to the side. Picking it up from his desk, smirking slightly at the mess we’d made. I watch him roll his eyes, answering. “What?” He asks bluntly, the annoyance at being disturbed clear in his voice. A sheepish voice responds, clearly picking up on his irritation. “I’m sorry to disturb you My Lord, but the Emperor has personally requested your presence at our current meeti-” I hear him growl softly, the vibrations from his chest travelled into my own. Making me shiver slightly, he noticed. His hand on my cheek travelled back to my waist. Rubbing soft circles comfortingly, “I’ll be there.” He responded shortly, before crushing the commlink. Letting the pieces fall to the floor. He let out a sigh, dropping his head down. His forehead resting on my upper back. Nuzzling into it softly, he reminded me of a puppy. This was the almighty Darth Vader? Surely there has been some sort of mix up? “M’sorry sweetheart, I have to go.” He said softly, his voice just above a whisper. His hand on my waist travels up. Cradling the back of my head, turning it to the side gently. So his lips could meet mine, his kiss was surprisingly soft. All traces of previous annoyance had disappeared. Like footprints being washed away by the sea.

He intertwined our fingers again, giving my hand another gentle squeeze. I could feel him smiling into the kiss. Before he pulled back slowly, resting his forehead against the side of my head. He pulled off me a little. His weight no longer pinning me to the desk, but I could still feel a light layer of his sweat coating my back. He gently flips me onto my back, I wince slightly at the change in angles. Watching as his brows furrowed slightly at the stimulation. He leans back on top of me, his weight now pressing again my front. Chest to chest, I felt my nipples hardening again at the contact. He clearly felt it too as I saw a smirk tugging at his lips… His gorgeous, soft, plump lips… Stop that. He brought both hands up to my face, cupping it softly. Pressing his forehead against mine. Our noses brushing against each other. “You sure you’re okay?” He asks, his eyes searching mine. For something I wasn’t quite sure, was he actually worried about me?

I chuckle softly, “I’m fine.” He runs his thumb along my bottom lip, flicking it gently. His eyes were fixated on my lips as he watched it snap back into place, while he ran his tongue along his own. Coating them in a thin layer of his saliva, the lights in the room reflecting off them.

“Don’t do that…” He whispers, causing me to furrow my brows.

“Don’t do what?” I ask curiously, tilting my head to the side.

Making him bite his lip softly in response, “don’t be so adorable.” I bite the inside of my cheek, trying not to laugh.

“I’m sorry I can’t help it.” He lets out a puff of air mockingly in response.

Poking the tip of my nose softly, “cheeky little thing.”

I smile softly, “you should probably be getting to your meeting. Sounds… important.” I whisper, observing him. Seeing some of his curls stuck to his forehead from our… activities. I absentmindedly brush them back, out of his face. His eyes watching my movement. Now I noticed his cheeks flushed a pastel pink, from the sex? Or was he… nervous? No way, no surely not…

His gentle voice brings me from my thoughts, “important?” He hums, pressing his soft lips to my forehead. “Probably not,” his husky voice uttered. “Just incompetent imperials needing me to do their work for them.” He all but sighs out, my eyebrows furrowed slightly. And I brought my arms up slowly, wrapping them around his torso. Which felt way more tiresome that it should of, maker what has he done to me? My limbs felt completely useless, I feel him take a deep breath. His chest rising and his stomach pressing into mine. Which also pushed his hips to meet mine, gently thrusting his cock deeper into me. Making me let out a soft whine, as his breath hitches. “Fuck sorry sweetheart I forgot,” he mutters. I could practically feel the grin on his face, as he trails a hand down. Gently pressing on my lower stomach, feeling where he was inside me. Making me jolt, clinging to his back. “Mmm your so warm princess, don’t wanna leave.” He pats my lower stomach softly, I could feel our combined release running down my thighs. “Your pussy’s clenching me so tight, don’t think you want me to leave either… hmm?” I could feel his smirk against my forehead, I poke his ribs in response. He lets out a soft chuckle.

“Your really not as funny as you think you are,” I retort. He lifts his lips off my forehead, looking down at me.

“Aren’t I?” He teases, licking his lips.

I shake my head, “nope-” He leans down, silencing me with a kiss. He sucks on my bottom lip softly, while his hands trail up to my breasts. Cupping them, his thumbs toying with my nipples. Making me moan softly into his mouth, my back arching slightly. I pull back a little, and he lets a soft sigh slip.

“I gotta go to work sweetheart,” he mumbles. The disdain at having to leave clear in his voice. I cup his cheek softly, and he leans into my touch.

I try to fight off a smile, “I know…” With one last kiss he reluctantly pulls away, running his fingers along my cheek. He places his other hand on my hip, steadying me.

He looks down at his cock, a grin on his face. He slowly pulls out, letting out a low hiss from the stimulation. He watches our cum leak out of me. Crouching down he holds my legs apart, placing a gently kiss on my pussy. Licking a strip, making me shiver in response. A moan escaping his lips before he stands back up. His naked form on full display as he looks for his discarded clothes. Littered along the floor of his office.

He yanks his boxers and pants back up his legs, tucking his spent cock back in place. Before bending over, picking up his shirt and robe. Damn he has a nice ass for a man. I shake my head, covering my mouth with my hand. Get a grip. I look back to him and he was struggling to tie his robe, muttering curse words under his breath. I sit up slowly, trying to find my balance. “Here,” I offer. He looks up from the messy knot he made, walking back over. Standing in front of me he places his hands on my waist.

Resting his chin on top of my head, “thanks sweetheart.”

“You’re welcome,” I murmur. Finish tying up his robe, “is it too tight?” I ask, looking up slightly. He shakes his head, cupping the back of mine.

“No it’s good,” he runs his fingers through my hair softly. I felt his Adam’s apple bob as he spoke. His other hand trail down my back to my ass, giving it a gentle squeeze. Before he removes his hand off my ass, scribbling something down on a sticky note. He pulls back to look into my eyes, keeping his hand in my hair. Brushing it softly, his eyes were blue… Weren’t they supposed to be yellow? “What is it?” He asks curiously, I must not of being doing a good job at hiding my confusion.

“Your eyes…” I mutter, before mine drift to something I had yet to notice.

“Oh yes the yellow can be… unnerving.” He whispers the last part, almost as if he was ashamed.

I shake my head, “no that’s not what I meant…” I paused, and he seemed to perk up slightly at my response. I bite my tongue to stop myself from laughing when I see my name on a board behind him. A board of the… rebellion. Oh shit this is bad. “Little Minx?” I raise a brow, he immediately broke out into a grin. Looking behind him, to see the board I was staring at.

“Long story…” He turns back to face me, cupping my jaw gently. “My private chambers are just down the hall if you need anything,” he slides the sticky note to me. With the code to his chambers on it, “if anyone gives you any trouble just tell them I sent you.”

He leans closer, pressing a kiss to my temple. Longer for a moment, breathing me in. “I’ll be right back sweetheart, make yourself comfortable.” He pulls away slowly, as if he was reluctant to. He releases his gentle grip on my jaw, to smooth down my hair. Before giving my ass a gentle pat, before heading to the door of his office. Using the force to open the door, show off. “I’ll be in conference room B if you need me darling. Try not to miss me too much,” he winks.

Heading out the door, shutting it behind him. I let out a sigh, “holy shit.” I mumble under my breath, rubbing my face to try to gather myself. I grip the edge of the desk I was currently on… naked. This was so not part of the plan. The plan! The files, I look around. Standing up on shaky legs, my knees buckling for a moment.

To be continued…

Dividers by @vibeswithrenai + @diariodefresa

[megamindsecretlair]

Can you please write an Aaron Pierre smut fic or love story? 🙏🏽

A/N: Ya'll don't get me started on this man. Just don't. I'm obsessed.

Wild

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. PWP, cursing, PIV, fingering (female receiving) teasing, size kink, dirty talk, degradation kink if you squint, rough sex, all consensual. Sorry if I missed some, I'm rushing, just let me know.

Summary: You went on a small camping trip with Terry, who graciously helped to introduce you to hiking. After a critter destroys your tent, you stupidly volunteer to share his. Shouldn’t be too bad, right?

Word Count: 5,859k

AO3 Link

A/N: THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A DRABBLE. Don't ask for him no more! (kidding, kinda) I will never be normal about him. It just kept going. My shoulder has been on fire for the past two weeks so I'm taking a much needed break. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

You stepped carefully along the ground. You made sure not a twig nor rock slipped beneath your shoes as you picked your way through the thicket of trees. Terry gave you a head start, closing his eyes and turning around with a smug look on his face.

You’ll show him though. There was no way he could track you this time. The ground was dry, you didn’t step on anything, and you worked with intention. The goal was to get to the river before he could catch up to you.

So far, it had to have been at least fifteen minutes since he started counting. That was a good enough lead, right? 

You were distracted. But something had to keep your mind off of your pursuer. You and Terry had formed an easy friendship, seeing each other around the gym. When he mentioned hiking was a hobby of his, you mentioned that you wanted to get into it but wasn’t sure where to start.

You should have kept your mouth shut. Spending nearly every week up close and personal with him was a new level of personal hell. He was so damn pretty. You didn’t often call men pretty, because…well…but he was!

The most striking eyes ever rimmed in dark eyelashes as if he were wearing eyeliner. Wide nose and even wider lips. An adorable, incredible smile. You stepped behind a tree and paused for a moment, bending over to grab your knees. 

Fuck you were out of shape. And trying to keep up with Terry’s tall ass was a struggle. Beyond a struggle. For every step he took, you had to scurry behind. And he didn’t believe in breaks. Fuckin’ ex military. 

You breathed through your nose though that only made breathing difficult. Didn’t help that you were horny as hell either. You leaned up and pressed your back against the bark of the tree, hoping no critters tried to ride home with you.

You took off your hat and wiped your brow, looking at your surroundings. The woods itself had thick trees, fluffy leaves, and branches that stretched high in the sky. Dots of sunlight slanted, giving you a peek at the bright blue sky. Terry would call it quits soon. You pouted. This was the second mini camping trip you’d been on with him and you hadn’t been able to escape him.

You replaced your hat on your head and risked a glance behind you. No sign of Terry. Good. You grinned and took off again, picking carefully through the woods. The water was close. You could hear the current from where you were. 

Almost there, oop around that rock, and ahhh, almost stepped on a rock. Ha. In his gorgeous face. 

You almost laughed but it would give away your position. You pressed your hand to the nearest tree as you swung around it just as strong arms pushed you into the tree.

You screamed as Terry moved in behind you, pressing his chest against your back. “Found you,” he said. His voice was low and deep, emerging from somewhere deep in his wide chest.

You groaned and slapped the tree. “How the hell did you find me?” You asked.

Terry chuckled and stepped away from you. You missed the heat of his body already. You schooled your features and turned around with a smirk on your face. You folded your arms across your chest so he couldn’t see how hard you were gasping for air. For more than one reason.

“You’re loud as hell,” he said. 

“Was not! I was being quiet! I made sure I was!” 

Terry looped his fingers through his hiking backpack and tilted his head at you. “I’ve been following you for ten minutes,” he said.

You looked away, back the way you came. Shit. What did he hear? What did he see? You may or may not talk to yourself to get yourself through shit. You ran through the past ten minutes, trying to think of what you said or did or if you drew any attention to the horrible crush you had on him.

He had to know his appeal. But you didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable. You weren’t only friends with him because he was hot. That was loser shit. You genuinely valued his opinions, his outlook. You loved that he had a way of making everyone at ease with just a few quiet words or a playful look. 

But that goddamn body. You looked back towards his face, because if you looked at his shirt, dripping with sweat, you’d combust on the spot. Terry smirked as if he could read your thoughts and pointed the way you came.

“You have to be aware of your surroundings if you do find yourself in a situation like this. It’s not about being quiet. It’s about moving fast, moving smart, and trust nothing,” he said.

You put your hands on your hips and pouted. “One of these days you’re not gonna be able to catch me,” you said.

He chuckled. “I’d still catch you,” he said. He smirked and turned around, heading into the woods, away from the water. 

You’d just have to train when he wasn’t around being a distraction. You sighed, trying to not let the sting of failure drag you into the dumps. You walked behind him, your consolation prize being his nice, gorgeous ass. 

He wore camo pants and a gray t-shirt, hiking boots, and tall thick socks. The pants really showed off his assets. You bit your lip imagining what it’d be like pressed up against all that piece of man. 

“Keep up!” He barked out. You huffed and whined, jogging to catch up to him.

“You do know you’re like, eight feet tall right?” You asked.

He looked at you out of the corner of his eye, giving him an animalistic side eye. His eyes were lethal. Your breathing stuttered and you hoped he didn’t hear it because god. “And you must be part lion? Part tiger? Yo ass ain’t natural,” you said, hoping to diffuse whatever spell he managed to weave whenever he trained those eyes on you. 

Terry chuckled. “You trynna say I’m not human?” 

You didn’t answer right away, only because you were trying not to huff and puff as you talked. You needed your inhaler, but you also left it in your tent. Yes, yes, you knew it was a dumb move. But hell, there was nothing more embarrassing than having to stand there and use it.

“I mean…” you said, letting the sentence dangle.

Terry gave you that side eye again, his mouth twisted in a frown. You gave him an innocent smile back, batting your eyes all innocent-like. Terry only shook his head, the corners of his mouth drifting down as he tried to hide a smile. 

You walked together in silence, grateful if only because your lungs were burning. When you decided to go on this journey of getting in shape and getting your mind right, you never thought you’d be in the woods. Let alone with someone like Terry. 

He was competent, knowing so much about living off the grid and being prepared. He carried all kinds of tools with him. You had a thirst for knowledge, asking him a million questions. He answered every single one too. If you could clone him and pass him out like candy to your friends, you would. There needed to be more men like him. 

A trail of ripped paper littered the ground like patches of snow in the middle of fall. “No,” you gasped.

You sped up as Terry’s hands shot out to stop you, but you pushed past him, running towards your campground. Your tent was on the far left, torn to pieces and ripped apart. Your journal had been shredded, ripped apart by some kind of animal. Your clothes were thrown about.

You were only out here for a day and night, getting a tiny taste of camping thanks to Terry. You’d never been. Growing up an inner city kid, Black parents didn’t play that shit. The school yard was your jungle. You were threatened with going to stay out in the woods if you didn’t like living under their roof. It wasn’t a regular occurrence for you or your friends growing up. 

The small fire pit had been picked over as well. You made a wailing sound as you tried to gather up the ripped pieces of paper. All those memories gone. All those feelings torn up. Some pieces flew with the breeze and you took off your own backpack, trying hard not to cry.

“You can’t run ahead like that. What if it was dangerous?” Terry scolded you. His voice got deeper, eyes narrow. He bent down to help you pick up the pieces of paper.

“Please, don’t! I got it,” you said. Perhaps a bit harsher than necessary. You weren’t going to cry. It was a minor setback. Things happened. You play stupid games and you won stupid prizes. 

Perhaps your parents were right. You should’ve kept your ass inside. Without all these damn bugs, and twigs, and fucking leaves tangling in your braids. 

Terry busied himself with picking through your tent, analyzing what may have happened. Home. When you got home, you would be able to break down. Not here. Not with Terry right there. His ass didn’t skip a beat.

“Might’ve been a bear. Or something similar looking for food,” he shouted over his shoulder.

You nodded but weren’t sure if he saw you. You only wanted to clean up your mess. You had so many ideas you wanted to jot down when you got back. So many observations, thoughts that raced through your mind on your hike. Now those thoughts would be gone too. Terry’s one rule this morning was no cellphone. 

You could do a day without it. Boy, were you wrong. You made a mental note to keep your journal with you from now on. Or start carrying a smaller notebook for bullet points and then journal at home, like a sane woman.

“You can take my tent. I’ll sleep out here and make sure nothing circles back,” he said.

You stopped from grabbing the last piece of torn paper from a bush nearby and turned to face him. “I won’t make you do that,” you said.

Terry stood up and dusted his hands, unstrapping his back from across his chest. “I didn’t ask,” he said.

You snagged the last piece and carried your pathetic pile to your ruined tent. You liked that tent. You just bought that tent. Did the fucking bear think money grew on trees? You kicked at the black and orange heap and faced Terry.

“I didn’t either,” you said. 

Terry watched you with those deadly eyes as he dropped his bag to the ground. He used the bottom of his shirt to clean his sweaty face. Damn. His words drew your attention back to his face. “I’ve been trained to survive outdoors. You haven’t.” 

You tucked the pile of paper into your ruined tent and then faced him once more. Terry was about to meet a hard rock. “Don’t start with the macho act, okay? We’re adults. I’m not making you stay outside while I’m tucked away all nice and toasty in your tent,” you said.

A smile curved his lips as he stepped closer, using his height to his advantage. You had to look up otherwise you’d just be staring at his chest. You stood your ground and tilted your head. He may have the advantage. He may be just as stubborn as you were. But you did not back down. Ever. Some called it a toxic trait but there were other ways to survive. Everybody had something.

Terry’s eyes were even more dangerous up close. Not quite blue. Not quite brown. Some mix of the two that was hypnotizing in the way he coldly assessed you. You didn’t know what he was thinking. His poker face was lethal. Not a hint or a clue.

“What do you suggest, then?” He asked.

A hotel, a shower, a bed, twenty four hours, and a bottle of lotion. But that was neither here nor there. You licked your lips and blinked at him. “We can share. Or do you not want my cooties in your tent?” You asked.

That surprised a laugh out of Terry. He shook his head. “Fine. But I snuggle in my sleep,” he said. 

His jaw flexed. He looked expectantly at you, lifting an eyebrow like he expected you to back down. You only raised your chin. “Good, I get cold at night,” you said.

He blinked slowly and nodded, rocking back on his heels before stepping away. “I’ll help with your tent then, before we lose the light,” he said.

When he turned around, you sighed quietly. Shaking out your sweaty palms. Oh god. Ohgodohgodohgod. What the hell did you do that for? 

You berated yourself as you and Terry worked as a team, removing your items from inside and rolling up your tent. He secured it with rope from inside his backpack and you had a wayward thought that made you laugh out loud.

Terry had knelt on the ground, one knee up, as he secured your tent. He looked up at your laugh and you waved him off. 

“What is it?” He asked, a small smile on his lips.

“Nothing, it’s stupid,” you said.

“I want to know,” he said.

You pinched your lips, wondering if you should say. Aw hell, you had to get it out now otherwise you’d be giggling in your sleep all night. “You kind of remind me of Dora,” you said.

“The kid’s show?” He asked.

You nodded and tried to hold in the laugh, but your stomach cramped from trying. His expression only made it worse as he stared at you like you were crazy. Maybe you were. Maybe you didn’t need to be in a tent with him all night. 

Terry chuckled and shook his head. “Magic backpack?” He asked.

You nodded and burst into laughter. His eyes narrowed but he smiled at you. “Come on, giggles, we’re not done,” he said.

“Work, work, work, is that all you think about?” You asked.

“No,” he said, his voice low and soft. You tilted your head at him and he gave you a funny look. Assessing you again. He didn’t elaborate further as he moved your sleeping bag inside of his tent.

“I’ll roll mine in a bit. Let’s clean this up some more before we hit the stream,” he said.

You thought about look on his face as you cleaned up around the campfire. There was no food to be found, so whatever creature or critter that did it, just made a whole lot of mess for nothing. 

You threw away your journal pages into the small trash bag Terry had tied high in the tree above your campground. He secured it back in place after getting it down for you, gifting you with a side view of his abs. Good god, the man was built in all the right ways. God took his time with this one.

Nice and clean with only one tent now, Terry let you go to the stream to freshen up first. The woods lacked fresh amenities but it was one of those parks that did have strategically placed rest areas. You handled business and then went down to the small stream a ways down from the campsite.

It was within shouting distance and you used the fresh water to clean the sweat from your body. You returned, feeling much better now that your skin wasn’t so sticky. Terry went next, disappearing from view and already lifting his shirt.

You took a risky glance over your shoulder, admiring the cut of his back as he stalked through the woods. His narrow hips moved with ease, ass in full view. Your mouth watered as your canine caught on your lower lip. You’d eat that man alive if given half the chance.

Terry’s head was on a swivel, looking around just on GP. You hurriedly looked away, grabbing your inhaler from your pocket. You retrieved it during clean up but was too nervous to use it in front of him.

Lot of good it did you now, but you took two deep puffs to clean all this fresh air from your lungs. The one thing you did not have in common with your ancestors was a major love of the outdoors. Fuck the air and nature. Give you a hot bath and TV any day of the week. 

Terry returned and you eased into conversation, talking about your families as the light disappeared. Terry started a fire, stoking it with a stick. You talked about life goals, hobbies, or anything really. Watched as he moved, talked, or the way he laughed. Listening to his voice was soothing. Welcoming. Terry caught fish in the river earlier and cooked it over that fire when it was good and ready. 

You yawned one too many times and Terry chuckled. “Head inside, I’ll do one last check,” he said.

“We didn’t get to tell any scary stories,” you said.

Terry shook his head and smiled. He was already dimming the fire, carefully stamping out hot rocks in the pit he built. Watching that man build a fire shouldn’t have got you that hot and bothered but it did.

“Next time, if you’re up for it.”

“You never stop, huh?” You asked, sleepily. 

Terry shrugged. “Not much to slow down for,” he said. He looked at you over the fire. The light from the flames danced across his skin, making him seem even more otherworldly. An understanding passed between you and you nodded, getting up without issue. 

You patted his shoulder, understanding the note of loss in his voice. You’d been there. You didn’t understand his pain, but you understood loss all the same. You took a deep breath before heading inside his tent.

It smelled like him. Like all, pure male. You whimpered, climbing on top of your sleeping bag. He had a nice tent. Much nicer than yours, even though his was well used. It had been folded and unfolded so many times, the grooves were permanent at this point. 

His sleeping bag was brown and looked more like a blanket compared to yours. Did his big ass even fit inside of a sleeping bag? How did he normally sleep? Did he have a bed big enough to hold him? Did he sleep sideways?

You were only half sure that he was playing when he said he snuggled in his sleep. He never mentioned a girlfriend or a wife. Did he have big pillows to snuggle? You stared at the domed ceiling of the tent, picturing what Terry looked like at rest. 

It only made your pussy flutter picturing his smooth, dark skin. Eyes closed. Mouth slightly parted. Did he snore? You probably should have asked that before volunteering to share a tent with him.

The rustle of Terry entering the tent made you shriek and sit up, like you were caught with your hand in a cookie jar. Terry stopped at the entrance and looked at you. “Just me. Do you want me to stay outside?” 

“No. Um. I was just thinking,” you said. Thinking about sucking that –

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes,” you said, quietly. 

You couldn’t see his face now that the fire was out. He was just a solid wall of black, crab-walking into the tent and then zipping it up behind him. You were acutely aware of every move he made. Every sigh. Every huff of breath.

“Go to sleep,” he said.

“How the hell do you know I’m still awake?” You asked.

“You’re too loud,” he said. 

You could hear the smile in his voice and you rolled your eyes. “Heard that too,” he said.

“Oh, shut it!” You said, rolling over to your side. Terry chuckled as he climbed into his sleeping bag. 

You shut your eyes and focused on your breathing, focused on falling asleep. Terry made it surprisingly easy. His gentle breathing was its own type of sound machine, lulling you to sleep along with the crickets outside. The soft hum of the water nearby. Before you knew it, you were out like a light.

Rustling jerked you awake. It was hard to truly knock out in the middle of nowhere, next to someone like Terry, and not still be keen to every single sound. You were feeling hot as hell, like you woke up in a sauna.

Terry’s arms were wrapped around you and you were snuggled up under his neck, inhaling his deep masculine scent. You cracked an eye open, though you still couldn’t see. Pitch black outside and inside the tent.

Terry hummed as more rustling turned your attention from the fact that he really did snuggle in his sleep. The noise made your heart speed up, clogged up your throat, made it hard to breathe.

Terry tightened his arms around you and drew his face down until his mouth was against your cheek. “Shh,” he said, too quiet. You didn’t think him capable.

He extracted himself from you, moving in a way that didn’t make noise at all. He even managed to unzip the tent without making a sound. He only unzipped it far enough to peek out.

You weren’t a damn damsel in distress. So you rolled over, not as quiet as him, and joined him at the entrance. There was enough light from the moon to cast a low glow over the campsite. There was nothing truly out there, but the rustling continued. The sound increased, and got closer and closer.

Your hand flew to Terry’s exposed knee, gripping on for dear life as an actual deer walked out of bushes and sniffed the air. You sighed, deflating against Terry’s side. Terry sighed as well, unzipping the tent more to get a good look. 

The both of you watched the deer nose around the campsite, likely following the smell of Terry’s good cooking. It’s ears swayed back and forth, picking through nothing as Terry was meticulous about cleaning up after himself.

“You were scared,” he whispered, shaking his head.

“So were you!” You fired back.

“Nah, I was good,” he said.

“You liar,” you said, with a chuckle.

“It’s okay if you were scared, you know,” he said. 

“Ain’t nobody scared of no damn deer. And ain’t nobody need your protection,” you said. You poked him in his chest. When did he find a chance to ditch his shirt? You had been snuggled next to that hunk of meat and he didn’t have a shirt on?!

“No?” Terry leaned over, his lips grazing your ear. “Go out there and say hi.” He tried to push you out of the tent and you fought him, trying not to spook the deer. One wrong move and the deer took off.

You giggled as you wrestled with Terry. He was so big, you didn’t stand a chance. It didn’t take much effort to subdue you, but you bucked and wrestled for control. No dice. Terry laughed as he pinned you beneath him, legs spread wide as he scooted in and leaned down close to your face.

“Give up?” He asked.

“Like hell,” you said. You had siblings. You knew how to scrap. Yet, all you did was rub your body against his growing bulge. 

You stopped wrestling for control. Your breaths were harsh and loud in the stillness of the tent. Terry’s chest rose and fell but he wasn’t as loud as you. You stopped struggling against his hold, letting him pin your wrists to the ground above your head.

“Hmm,” he hummed, a rumbling sound low in his chest. “Ain’t that better?” 

“Terry?” You asked.

“Mhm,” he said, leaning down to rub his stubble across your chin. 

“Kiss me,” you said.

Terry leaned up and kissed you. You moaned into his mouth. His lips were just as juicy, just as lush. Soft to the touch. And he was an expert. Kissing, retreating, licking, retreating, biting, retreating. He drove you wild, not giving an inch. Not giving you any wiggle room.

He completely caged you beneath him. Beneath the heaviness of him. He still had your wrists pinned, so you weren’t able to touch him like you wanted. You weren’t the type to be agreeable for agreeable’s sake.

Terry growled at your attempts to shake his hold. Shake his control. He bit your lip, hard, and you cried out, ending on a moan. He licked the sting away, kissing down your jaw and to your neck.

“Fuck do you do to me?” He asked, more to himself as he kissed and explored your skin. He ground his bulge into your pussy and you whimpered, wrapping your legs around his waist.

Just as he showed you in training, you managed to buck your hips and flip him over. You wailed in triumph, not actually believing that would work. Your breaths were harsh, wild, as you finally got to touch him. Your hands roamed over his broad, warm chest. He took great care of his body.

In a lightning quick move, Terry grabbed your arm and flipped you over to your stomach. He grabbed both of your wrists and pinned them behind your back. You cried out from the force, but it was welcome. Inviting a rush of heat to flow through you, straight to your dripping pussy. You moaned as Terry dropped his weight on top of you.

His dick aligned with your ass and you tucked it higher. He grunted and slapped your ass. “Ow!” You yelled, more from surprise. Though the fucker did hurt. With hands as large as his, he managed to cover a wide area of your ass. Leaving behind a burning sting that only made you wiggle your ass against him.

“Fighting only turns me on, princess,” he said. He leaned down to your ear and growled. He sounded damn near like a lion. “Give up?” He nibbled on your ear.

“Fuck no,” you said and giggled. 

Terry moved your wrists to one hand, then used his free hand to pull your joggers down over your ass. You whimpered as he caressed your booty, intentionally missing the heated core of you. 

You moaned, trying to wiggle your ass where you needed him most. All these months of pining, of wanting, of yearning, were coming to a head. All those times training, working beside him, tangling with him were catching up to you, Making you feel like you were going to burn to a crisp.

“Use them big girl words and tell me what you want,” he said.

You arched your back. Begging, crying whimpers escaping you as his big fingers skirted the outer edge of your pussy. The smell of your arousal permeated the tent. There was no way to deny how turned on you were. If you could just, wiggle, and move a little to the left–

Terry slapped your ass. “What did I say?” He asked.

You groaned. “Fuck me!” Your horniness won this round.

Terry chuckled evilly, plunging his fingers into your dripping wet hole. You both moaned at the contact. He went knuckles deep with no resistance. He wiggled two fingers inside of you, making you moan loudly like a slut. 

“Was that so hard?” He asked, whispering in your ear as he continued to finger fuck you. He fingered you with all the precision he was known for. Immediately making you grind on his fingers. 

“You can do better than that. Get that shit you want so bad,” he said. He mocked you, he teased you. Every cry or whimper that came out of your mouth, he responded with an evil chuckle or a moan of his own in your ear.

It was always followed randomly by a growl in his chest. The intimacy of the dark and the wet sucking of your pussy drove you closer to that climax. Barreled into it. Crashed into it. You screamed, loud, calling his name as that climax slammed into you like a truck.

“There it is. Shit feel good, don’t it?” He asked.

You nodded your head, forgetting for a moment that it was dark and he couldn’t see you. He released your wrists and then grabbed a handful of your braids, yanking your head back. “Don’t it?” He asked.

“Yesss,” you moaned, biting your lip and rubbing your ass against him. “Oh, fuck me, baby. Now.”

Terry chuckled, smacking your ass. “As much as I want to, I don’t have a condom,” he said. 

“I’m clean. On the pill,” you said. Thank god for that. There was no way you’d be able to sleep tonight without the feel of him inside of you. 

“Are you sure?” He asked.

You nodded, feeling your braids pull as it was still trapped in his tight grip. Terry chuckled. There was the sound of sucking. He moaned. “Taste good. Can’t wait to get back home and spread you on my bed. Hmm, maybe my dining table. Eat you like the good fuckin’ meal you are,” he said. 

He moved behind you, lowering his pants. He groaned, rubbing his dick against your folds. Oh shit. He was working with a third leg. “Oh shit, Terry,” you moaned. Your belly ached. Hollowed out. You were so empty. 

“You’ve been driving me crazy wearing those leggings. And that skirt you wore last week?” Terry talked as he rubbed his dick between your legs. You shook. Terrified of taking all that but knew you had to try. Had to relax and let the master work. 

“What took you so fuckin’ long?” You asked. 

Terry chuckled and smacked your ass, pulling your braids back. You moaned, back arching even more. “That little attitude of yours,” he said. 

“Fuck y–”

Terry pushed into your wet heat, cutting off all words. You reached back, trying to grab onto him. He smacked your hand away and pushed in further, gaining more and more inches inside of you.

Your legs shook. You whimpered as he retreated and then slammed back inside. He sunk further in, stretching you, molding you around his dick. “Oh god, oh fuck, oh god,” you moaned. The delicious burn was too much. Not enough.

Terry moaned, grabbing your hip and pulling you further onto his dick. You didn’t think he could fit inside any more. Surely, he bottomed out by now? 

“Not so tough with some dick in you,” Terry mocked. 

To prevent you from saying something smart, Terry moved with earnest. His stroke game was as intense as the man himself. His strokes were brutal. Punishing. He groaned with every slide inside of you, making your thighs tingle with pleasure.

“Slam that shit back,” he said. 

You placed your hands on the ground and threw it back on him, rising up to meet each of his thrusts. Each of his long strokes. Accepting his dick. Accepting everything he gave you.

“Terry! Oh, you fuck me so well,” you said. You sniffled, screaming with every thrust.

Terry chuckled. “I know. Spread your legs wider,” he said.

He stopped stroking so that you could spread your legs more. You moved your feet to the outer edges of his legs. He pushed down on your back, releasing your braids so that you could fall forward. He raised your hips, moving you, manhandling you. 

Fuck, it felt so right. So good. So natural to be on your knees, ass up in the air, while he went to work. Terry grabbed your hips and moved you one last time. Then, he slammed inside in one rough thrust. You leaned forward, but he snatched you right back.

“Naw, naw. Where you going?” He moaned.

You moaned back, throwing it back but quickly losing the fight. This wasn’t some little man you let fuck you. This was a grown ass man. Secure in his businesses.

“Fuck, you feel good. So wet. I can barely stay inside of you,” he said. He cursed as he slammed into you like he truly wanted.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck. Terry! Terry! Sh-shh–oh that’s my spot,” you said. He brushed up against a deep spot inside of you. You thought it was a myth. You thought that shit didn’t exist. Terry found it without even trying.

“That’s your spot?” He asked. His deep voice made everything sound more filthy. More lewd. 

“That’s my spot!” You squealed. 

“That’s my spot now,” he said. No more words were spoken as he hit that spot over and over. 

Incoherent noises and sounds dribbled from your mouth. Perhaps some spit too. Your essence dripped out of you, flooding his dick as he didn’t let up. Didn’t stop. Kept hitting your spot like he was at target practice and he was showing out for the crowd. 

“Oh I’m gonna-I’m-gonna–”

“Cum on this dick. Let me feel it. Let it go,” he cooed to you.

There was a storm gathering inside of you. It almost felt like you had to pee. “Wait-” 

Terry moaned. Your cries turned to pleas. It both felt good and sort of hurt. “Uhngf-” You exploded, wailed to the high heavens as you came and squirted. “OH SHIT!”

Terry was saying something but you couldn’t hear over the sound of your yelling. Your pussy gripped onto him, locked him in, as you came and came. Terry smacked your ass and then thrust one last time before erupting with his own climax. He stuffed you completely.

Hot, thick pulses of cum throbbed inside of you. Your thighs shook. Your body twitched. Your eyes watered. You dissolved into a steaming pile of person as your eyes crossed with intense, whitehot pleasure.

Terry grunted and dropped forward, pushing you onto your sleeping bag. He kissed your damp pajama shirt. Both of you were huffing, out of breath. Thank god for your inhaler. Your lungs would be nonexistent right now. 

Terry softened by degrees, enough for him to pull out. You moaned as his cum leaked out. Like his dick was a plug keeping it all inside. 

“That’s never happened before,” you mumbled. Suddenly feeling shy and embarrassed. You ought to know what that felt like. Yet, it completely caught you off guard.

Terry maneuvered in the dark until he was able to pull you off of your sleeping bag and onto his where it was dry. He rubbed your arms and shoulders. Then, he grabbed your chin and pulled you into a searing kiss.

“I’m honored I drew it out of you,” he said. “Wait till I do it again.”

“Again! Not with that monster!” You yelled and tapped his chest. Terry’s rumbling laugh was everything you needed to hear. 

He pulled you closer, growling playfully and nipping at your skin. You giggled, trying to wiggle out of his grasp. “Again and again and again,” he said, kissing and nibbling at you with every word while you shrieked into the night with laughter.

The end.

Who am I kidding? Of course there will be more! The Secret Terry Richmond Files

Taglist: @planetblaque @chaos-4baby @amethyst09 @ciaqui @we-outsiiiide

@browngirldominion @iv0rysoap @thecookiebratz @harmshake @00aijia00

@judymfmoody @multiversefanfics @tvchi @xo-goldengirl @superhoeva

@avoidthings @lovedlover

[ixiot-ghostrebel]

i saw angry reader content and all of the character’s reactions to reader blowing of in an explosion of angry yelling, which gave me an idea. you know those people who make really strange unique threats, and say it in a way that makes it super intimidating? Like, they say it calmly like it was just an inevitable fact, with their voice having a slight lower tone. But not too much, just enough to notice it. And they seem incredibly calm up intil the threat, which adds to intimidation factor. like i just imagine:

*player going through sumeru archon quest normally and then reaching the point where nahida is released* cyno: “you once said that i have no standing to judge you. so how about judgement in the name of a god” there is a pause as the reader stays silent …

reader: “I will peel you. Sleep with both eyes open because I don’t want you to ever feel true rest again. I hope that even in your dreams, the threat of the peeling will haunt and chase you. Endless mental torture of your own making, until your lack of good sleep has paranoia eat away at your mind. And I will enjoy and smile during every moment as I watch your spiral into insanity, until finally, the peeling shall come.” reader: *proceeds to act like nothing happened* everyone else being absolutely terrified as to what the fuck the peeling is:

(Talking About This—I think—)

Oh yeah. You see, Reader has two anger modes:

1- The "I will threaten by maiming you in any way possible and make it clear that I will give you trauma" angry

and 2- "I will pretend I have said nothing, but I have said everything" angry.

Combine these two together, you see...And you have what anon has shown :)

[candyfloss5000]

just gonna leave this here

[thefantasyride]

The eyes + the stare would have me folding like a chair at the Great Montgomery Brawl.🤤 I need help! 🫠

[skywalkerrtno]

WE GOT WOLFFE BACK YEEESS

I LOVED THESE EPISODES.

[trashy1turtle]

Yeah, I'm fine

*Types "«character name> x reader" into tumblr search bar*

[the--rebel--fae]

ME ME FIRST IM FIRST PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE ALASTOR X FEM READER WHO LIKE A HOUSEWIFE IN THE HOTEL AND TAKES CARE OF NIFTTY AND CHARLE AS IF THEY WERE HER AND ALASTOR CHILDREN

A/N: You my friend, caught my attention first because of such an adorable response. So ask and ye shall receive! Here's hoping I do Alastor justice.

(This is an adorable request btw)

Pairing: Alastor x Fem! Reader

Tw: None! Just pure fluff!

Word count: 745

The Hazbin Bunch

Ever since you came to the Habin Hotel, it felt like everyone was a little family. You were an older demon, having died back in the forties. So you have been in hell for quite some time. 

When you first saw the TV commercial you wanted to see what it was all about. Especially since you heard that your old friend Alastor was involved. You haven’t seen him in years. Seven to be exact. And to know that he was back sent butterflies in your stomach. You never told him, but you always harbored feelings for the eccentric radio host. You never had the guts to tell him though since you feared messing up your friendship.

Little did you know, he had feelings for you as well. Alastor was already intrigued with you when you first met. Just the way you carried yourself and treated others. It was also a plus that you hated that infernal TV just as he did. Plus, you were a great conversationalist and probably the only one who could keep up with him when you had the time to dance.

Soon enough, Charlie, Vaggie, Husk, Angel Dust, Nifty, and even Sir Pentious became family to you. Almost as if they were your children. 

“Nifty my dear, if you truly want to kill those little bugs I suggest you swing your knife in a diagonal direction instead of a perpendicular. That way, they have less of a chance to escape.” You told the little red-headed cyclops girl as she chased around a few stray roaches.

Nifty paused briefly and looked up at you from your seat at the bar. “Ooh! That’s a great idea! Less chance for them to escape hehe.” She giggled creepily and then started back on her roach hunt. 

You shook your head and smiled fondly at the girl. Then turning back to Husk you regarded him with a warm smile. “Well, since I’m here I mine as well indulge in a small drink. What do you have in mind for me today Husk? I do so love the different drinks you concoct. If you worked at a bar back in my days on Earth, you’d be regarded as an artist.”

Husk chuckled as he started up your drink. “Weren’t you alive durin’ prohibition times though?”

You just waved your hand nonchalantly. “Ah, semantics. Besides, you know what they say. Nothing fun ever comes from following the rules.”

“How right you are Cher! Why if people followed the rules, things would be so terribly boring.” Alastor said as he popped out from seemingly nowhere.

Husk handed you your drink and you smiled as you took a sip. “Oh, hello Al. How was the radio show today?”

Alastor’s eyes lit up and his smile shone brightly. Most people would find it off-putting but you personally loved it. “It went splendidly, my dear! Thank you for asking.”

You were about to say something more, but then Charlie came down the main stairs drawing your attention. “Charlie, my dear! How are you, sweetie? Do you feel any better since the latest meeting with that infernal angel? Ad-what’s his name? The first man, I guess?”

Charlie met your gaze and smiled. “I’m doing a little bit better (y/n), thanks. But you don’t have to worry so much. That meeting was a month ago!’

You just chuckle. “That may be so, but I can tell how stressed you’ve been hun.”

Angel Dust clicks his tongue as he takes a seat beside you. “You know toots, sometimes it seems like you're the mom of this place with how ya act.” He then glanced at Alastor who unbeknownst to you was gazing fondly at you. “An if you're the mother of this joint, that’d make ol smiles here the dad.”

“Haha! You know, that doesn’t sound too bad Ma Cherie. I’d consider myself lucky to be assumed to be your husband.” Alastor said as he put a hand on your shoulder.

Instead of commenting, you could only blush furiously. Feeling the heat crawl all the way up to your ears, you tried your best to compose yourself and hide your growing smile behind your glass. Almost hoping that Alastor didn’t catch how much his comment made your long-dead heart soar. But he was no fool, he could see that beautiful smile of yours even as you tried to hide it behind the crystalline glass. 

Perhaps you truly were like a little family after all. 

Hope you enjoyed the story my friend! I gotta say, this was an adorable request. I had a lot of fun with it!

And if you guys want even more stories--like maybe your own personalized several page long one shots or even a multi-chap fic take a look at my Etsy Shop! I do commissions! I even have listings for Hazbin Hotel!

[cloveroctobers]

I CAME HOME LATE — Terry Richmond [September Prompts] 🩶

A/N: listen…I’ve been wanted to write for this man since he was Mid-sized Sedan 😆 but he definitely wasn’t being talked about enough then. This isn’t anything big but I’m here to feed the tag a little with this thing so I hope you enjoy it!

PROMPT IS FROM HERE & I’m using: ²¹⁾ steaming cups of sake + ²²⁾ an airport terminal at midnight.

WARNINGS: language and some angst?

<- check out my previous anthology prompt here.

☾˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚☕︎ ☾˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚☕︎ ☾˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚☕︎ ☾˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚☕︎ ☾˚ ༘

Being a night owl wasn’t foreign for you.

You were born when the twilight hit the evening sky and your mother always had a hard time getting you down for the night as a baby. For as long as Terry’s known you—since high school—it was no surprise to learn that night shifts were where you thrived best.

He’s at the airport terminal, not knowing your schedule but taking the risk to show up where you worked. He had the urge to be near you again once it was set in motion that he was selling his food truck to head east to start over with his cousin, Mike. Terry had no issue adjusting to change as long as it has substance in the end. He couldn’t leave without seeing you and although it’s been a minute since you both spoke, he didn’t take it personally.

You were his ex-wife after all but that didn’t mean that the utmost respect for you vanished. Ever. Terry made himself comfortable in the crisp cool of the quiet pale blue airport, sticking to the front of the large building but couldn’t help his eyes searching the area every so often for you. He had a feeling that you would be coming around sooner than later and exactly at 12:03am, he spots you being led to the revolving doors with a man who was dressed in security attire.

Your light laughter is almost childlike, a little raspy and airy as the both of you squeeze each other’s shoulders lightly in farewell for the night before you turn to face Terry’s direction.

“Terry,” your voice is hushed with a hint of croaking in it, which is unusual since you were normally upbeat once the moon shined but from the sound of it, the day at the airport must have been a long one.

Terry says your name with a dip of his head, eye contact always on lock, which you held before slowly closing your eyes, not knowing what to expect of this appearance.

“Everything good?” The security guard asks based on your reaction and you raise a hand up with a nod of your head, informing him that it was.

Terry briefly stared at the security guard underneath his lashes, who must have been a good friend of yours—not that good if he was letting you walk out into the night to your car on your own—sure you could handle yourself if it ever came down to it but it was the right thing to do.

“Y’all take care.” The security guard states as he realizes that Terry is no danger to you.

Terry gives a crooked smile, “you as well, man.”

You step to him, fixing the strap to your backpack on your left shoulder—your better shoulder that didn’t suffer from a extreme tear that took two surgeries to fix—, “what’s happening?”

“Hm…I thought it was a nice night so I took a ride.” Terry smirks at you while you roll your eyes and begin walking towards the automatic doors.

Throwing your head back as you stood on the sidewalk you glance at Terry and begin to walk backwards, “A nice night to throw my mind for a loop? You never did have good timing.”

He would have thought that was a jab, considering that the papers he sent your way two weeks before he got honorable discharge arrived in your shared mailbox the same day your elderly dog died. It’s not like the papers were a shock, it’s been discussed over many video chats but like you said, Terry Richmond didn’t have the best timing when it came to certain things.

He was a marine after all so timing kind of came with the profession…perhaps if you were looking for something to blame it would be that.

“Now we both know that isn’t a hundred percent true,” Terry lightly points, head downwards and a sly smile playing on the corner of his lips, “is it a crime to come see my favorite girl?”

Letting out an exaggerated yawn, you give him an expressionless face afterwards before spinning back around to head to the parking lot, with Terry following you into the foggy low sixty degree night. He’s holding the car door open for you after you unlocked it with your clicker and you’re shoving your things into the passenger side before taking a seat in the driver’s side.

You peer up at him, “Did you need something?”

“Yeah,” Terry starts, “come with me to Liu’s…just to talk.”

Raising your brows you say, “Why now?”

“He hasn’t said anything to you?” Terry questions.

Lifting your once slumped shoulders, you stare back at Terry and he’s never known you to be a liar.

“Should he have?” You press, “He’s never gotten into our shit before so why would he? If you wanted your business told, you should have said something to Ken.”

Terry snorts at the mention of Mr. Liu’s nephew.

He was a good guy but he was crap at secrets and excellent at taking direction.

“You’re not wrong,” The man with the goatee inhales, “look I won’t hold you…yet I’m leaving in the morning and i don’t know when I’ll be back. I just thought I should come by.”

He thought of you in the moment and there’s neber been a day where you didn’t think about Terry, all bright eyed and imagining the what if’s. The divorce had to happen, it was the right decision but that didn’t mean you didn’t miss him.

Terry gave you the space you needed, he couldn’t keep coming around as if the whole trajectory of your relationship wasn’t altered. It never got disrespectful however you were very vocal once you returned home from work, finding every trace of him erased from the home except for pictures. A conversation was eventually had over dinner, a passionate night was shared and just like that he was gone in the morning. You feared that you would run into him in town often, since Mr. Liu’s was pretty popular and Terry’s truck was more lowkey and out the way with a good amount of locals— just how he preferred it.

You did the best staying away from that side of town for a while before you realized how silly you were being. Life didn’t have to stop because Terry was no longer in it. That was your choice. You were never the type of person to be so dependent on anybody before.

So you thought.

Being surrounded by family constantly…you never had to feel alone. Terry was the opposite, an only child raised by a single mother who was a pediatric nurse and worked nights. He found a bonus home with your family and became part of it, no questions asked.

“You’re leaving?” You quiz, “for how long?”

Terry can see you visibly flinch after the words slipped through your lips. You were trying to put up a shield or maybe even a boundary for not caring as much. Like a concerned wife should. Just like he said before, just because you’re no longer romantically involved didn’t mean he didn’t value your friendship.

“Don’t know. Heading out to Shelby Springs for Mike and a fresh start.” Terry states and it’s not like you can feel a way about that.

Inhaling air through your teeth you say, “that bama ass place?”

Terry tells, “I know. It’s a in and out type of thing. Getting a pick up and starting a business from as far as we can get from there.”

You don’t say anything but the look on your face says enough.

“…Don’t worry.” He starts.

Scoffing you reply, “who’s worried?”

“That pretty little face is.” Terry even pokes your cheek with his free hand that’s not holding the door open but you slap his hand away, leaving him smiling softly, “so…are you coming with me?”

“To Shelby springs? Hell no!” You jest with a wink, “I can go for a vegetable spring roll though.”

There’s amusement in Terry’s eyes as he nods, “that’s it?”

“I don’t like to eat heavy at night, remember?” You defend.

A hearty breakfast was always more your speed.

“Yin and Yang,” Terry smiles at a memory you don’t push for him to share because you’ve probably thought about it plenty times before whenever you had breakfast alone, “You’ll lead?”

“Course.” You give a small smile and Terry makes sure you’re all the way in before shutting the door behind you.

He follows behind you on his bike and the airport is a good distance from downtown. It’s not long before you’re trying to pull over but Terry just zooms past you, grinning back at you over his shoulder while you’re shaking your head in disbelief behind the wheel.

This was a challenge for Terry, a norm to not only test himself but you and you never backed down from a competition.

Letting out a low-whistle you comment, “Moving like that and you’re traveling to Shelby in the morning?” You say as you walk up to the doors where Terry is waiting, “you might be taking a long nap instead.”

The both of you were hardly sleepers, you with your hint of OCD and mind racing always finding something to do and Terry was always on military time even before he went into the field. He was the earliest riser and believed in that old saying, “the early bird catches the worm.” Your rest time together involved pillow talk, just breathing the same air either facing each other or you being the little spoon, and of course there were times where you both didn’t mind helping the other go to sleep.

After locking up his bike, he shifts the keys around on the ring to unlock the restaurant holding the door open, “Nah, I’ve got the best stamina in the world.”

Spinning to face Terry after he locks the door behind you two, you’re pushing your lips out with a tilt of your head once his eyes settle back on you. It’s a teasing smile and he’s leans towards you on his way by, “get your head outta the gutter.”

Laughing in between the stools, you turn to rest your elbows on the counter which Terry is behind now. He asks, “You down for some of Ken’s sake?”

“Ah…now I see.” You sigh dramatically, “you brought me here to get me drunk.”

Terry laughs, “no. I just remembered that you enjoyed it a lot back in Japan and Ken’s been experimenting thanks to his dad’s recipe all while offending Mr. Liu.”

Where you got married.

“I can’t even tell you the last time—fuck it! It’s your going away night and you should be honored that I’m here so why not?”

“How did this turn into praising yourself?” Terry jokes as he gets ready to prepare the warm beverage.

You grumble, “Somebody besides myself needs to.”

Terry flicks his spring green hues to you, “so you’re not seeing anyone?”

“It’s not the security guard.”

Terry frowns, “funny how I didn’t even mention him.”

Wagging your finger at him you respond, “I saw the way you were analyzing my friend with that high opacity setting that you call eyes.”

He pauses and snickers, “oh yeah? And what did they say?”

“You tried to give him the benefit of the doubt because that’s just how you are but…you were curious about us.”

“That was a thing then?” He quirks up a brow while you press your cheek into your fist.

“Nope!” You answer as you move to sit up on one of the chairs, “That gorgeous chocolate man is happily taken with four kids, with three of them being triplets.”

“Damn!”

“Terry.”

He laughs and then shrugs, “what? I’m only kidding…kids are blessings.”

You hummed as you watched him work for a while before he’s placing steaming sake in front of you.

“What should we toast to?” You ask, pinching at the glass before finding a safe spot of the cup to hold up, “Goodbye’s?”

Terry immediately furrows his brows, “come on now…you know that’s what I’m actually not good at. Look at this as more of an…until next time.”

Clinking your cup against his as a response, you both slowly sip at the hot sake and its sweetness is felt with its warmth. “Not bad, Ken. Not bad.”

You both share a laugh, letting the silence hit while the sake cools off some. The silence doesn’t last long before you’re both poking fun at each other and falling into more conversation. It flows even when it gets tense, blood burning as your feelings come to the surface with Terry listening to you intently and speaks to you calmly.

“When I brought up divorce the first time it was never to be manipulative…it was to save us both the heartache of this ongoing distance.”

You open your mouth to interupt but Terry stared at you from underneath your eyelashes, which makes you deeply sigh, “We grew apart but we tried. You know it and I know it. No matter how long you would have held me down it happened and I felt like you deserved better than that. I thought you felt the same way when you agreed and signed.”

It’s not like you signed right away! You actually took your sweet ass time, even when he pulled what he pulled.

“I mainly signed because you pissed me off, sneaking through the house to get your things like a thief in the night while I was at work. I should ask how you managed to do it all but then I remembered who you are.” You exhale, “I’ve got to get some hobbies besides working myself to the bone and constantly thinking about you. I should be over this already. It’s been months.”

“We did put in a solid five years of marriage though.”

Dated since senior year just for him to go off to the military three years later. The love and the effort was there but you been around a lot of military significant others at group meetings and their stories were much worse. So you tried to be thankful of the time shared but that didn’t mean you didn’t have your own sorrow too.

‘It’s not something you can just get over.’ Terry thinks.

“That we did.”

And it’s back to the eye game again and it makes your stomach feel like flipped flapjacks.

You can’t stand Terry Richmond.

He intertwined your fingers once you’re both outside. This was happening, he was leaving again and you chose to be numb about it on the outside but slightly achy on the inside. It was weird really, how you could both live in the same town and never run into each other but it still felt comforting to know that you were both out there carrying on—even if it wasn’t beside one another.

You wish he would hold you instead of your hand but Terry didn’t want to cross that line. Not when you revealed that your heart wasn’t really in it to sign the papers in the first place.

Squeezing his rough hand back before letting go, you’re aware that he’s crashing at the restaurant tonight so it’s closer in the direction he’ll be heading in the morning. Yet there’s still a part of you that wishes he would come home.

It’s early when your eyes peel open to focus on your block out curtains. They were the best investment you made (from a cousin you didn’t like—but no one can say you were never supportive) since it’s always sunny in this town and the only time you preferred light was in your kitchen and living room but you still have a feeling that it’s early morning. You sit up in bed, ears searching for any sound in your bungalow.

Your feet are sliding into your slippers, knuckles rubbing into your eyes as you peek at the clock on the nightstand to see it’s another 5am. As you’re handling your business in the bathroom across the hall from your bedroom, you can’t help that pull in your gut that brings you to the front of your home.

Flicking on the lights, you yelp at the sight of Terry sitting in the dark of the living room staring off in space.

It’s been days since you last saw him.

You pushed him to the back of your mind like you trained yourself to do. Putting your attention elsewhere and even picked up a hobby to keep yourself preoccupied besides just those long double shifts at the airport.

Now he was back and something shifted within him again that didn’t sit well to you. You carefully took a step towards him and his eyes followed you but much slower this time.

“Terry,” breathe his name, “…what’s wrong?”

He simply flips the palm of his hand over that’s resting on his knee and you reach out to place yours right in his while you move to sit next to him. Terry squeezes your hand like his life depends on it and it makes your heart rate spike, it doesn’t hurt—he’d never purposely do so—but it’s strong enough to let you know that he needs you.

“Can I get you something? Water? Those shady over easy eggs you like so much?”

That gets a snicker to escape his lips, always finding your issue with eggs to be humorous. You were not an egg person and commonly called it, “the devil’s snot,” which let Terry know you might have been spending too much time with your granny and great-aunties.

“Maybe later,” he says, “can you just be here with me?”

You don’t hesitate to cup his face once he turns his gaze to you and not this daze he seems to be in. He slowly blinks at your touch, head moving to press a kiss into the palm of your hand. You nod and he moved again to lay in you lap, hands wrapping around your hips tight that you have to remind yourself to breathe.

Something was wrong and you were determined to fix it—if he would let you. You didn’t push him and let Terry rest as you squeezed one of his shoulders being trailing your fingers across his back to the other.

That’s when you felt it underneath his shirt, a bandage of some sorts. You kept it to yourself for now, knowing he would tell you as you continued rubbing circles across his back to soothe him.

It had to have been a half hour when Terry dozed off and your legs were aching. You forgot to put a pillow down for extra cushion but Terry never had any problems using your body as his personal pillow. Some things never change.

Your attempt to weasel out of his hold was a challenge before you realized he was holding onto you on purpose. It was good to still see some humor in him due to whatever happened once he left this town.

“Be for real,” you tell him as he looks back at you, “I’m trying to get up and make breakfast and this is what we’re doing?”

Terry sits up, always the light sleeper but there’s a weight in his chest that won’t ever subside, “wanted to see if you still had it in you to get out of my hold…you need some more work.”

“I lug baggage at the airport that’s heavier.” You sass pushing yourself off the couch, “I didn’t get my stretches in yet so excuuuse me, Mr. Richmond.”

Terry mutters playfully, “sounds like excuses to me.”

“You know what? It’s too early for your irritation so why don’t you take another nap?”

Terry shakes his head as you make your way over to the fridge, “nah, I much rather watch your face while you mentally fuss over the eggs.”

“Ah so I’m your source of entertainment for you this morning am I?” You place your hands on your hips as Terry places his elbows into his knees, “let me go find my flapper dress.”

“…I wouldn’t mind seeing you in a dress again.” He admits, eyes burning into you from across the room.

Rolling your eyes you turn right back around so he couldn’t see how much of an effect that had on you. It shouldn’t by any means but here your insides were acting up!

When you turn around with the carton in your hands, you’re met with Terry’s chest that catches you by surprise. His arms lock over your shoulders as you carefully hold onto the eggs and feel him relax against you. He always smelled like leather and pine and that also hasn’t changed. Slowly you snake a free arm across his waist and lean your ear into his chest, finding his heartbeat. It’s always the most soothing thing, equivalent to your hands on his back.

You’re not sure how long you’re holding onto each other but you don’t question what this is all about or what this is for. You didn’t need to, you knew Terry Richmond and you knew when something was up, regardless of the distance that was between the two of you. He came to you in the middle of night at your job and again in the early morning. The pull was still there and perhaps it would always be that way.

He wants to help you make breakfast, after he lets go of you and you almost tell him to sit his big behind down, sensing that he was injured in more than one way but he’s not exactly a guest in this home. So he puts in the work beside you, just like old times and begins to open up about his time in Shelby springs much to your own heartache for him.

Terry arrived back home after all this time and as you sat from across each other just listening, you realized him being here was better late than never. 

☾˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚☕︎ ☾˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚☕︎ ☾˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚☕︎ ☾˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚☕︎ ☾˚ ༘

Continue with my September anthology prompts here.

[blxkstar]

I made a playlist for using the Light Side of the Force.

Using inspiration of the feeling of tapping into the light side, and feeling the Force flow through you. Please check it out!!

"The Force. What does it feel like?" "Have you ever been afraid of the dark? How does it feel when you turn on the light?” “I feel safe,” “Yes, it feels like that.”

[moonstrider9904]

Lose It

Grand Admiral Thrawn x Female Reader

Summary: As Governor Pryce's assistant, you've had to put up with a lot of things and meet a lot of stuck up imperials with flying colors, but when Grand Admiral Thrawn lands on Lothal, you find yourself stuttering upon your words, flustered, and invited to a gala dinner that'll define your career.

Tags/warnings: SMUT. 18+ adults only. Corporate struggles, Pryce being mean, first meetings, alcohol consumption, making out, PiV sex unprotected, fingering. This is my first time in a long while writing Thrawn, so sorry if any of this is ooc.

Word count: 8042

Playlist: Lose it by Oh Wonder - and its Jerry Folk Remix for the smut 👀

Read on AO3 | One-shot masterlist | Main masterlist |

With your eyes glued to the datapad, you felt as if caf would be the only thing to get you through that morning.

Sunrises on Lothal were beautiful, and yet, you were never able to enjoy them. Your desk on the seventh floor, a place relatively close to the much more humane office destined for your boss, was in a tiny reception room that had no windows; you'd have to walk a good kilometer inside the facility for you to get a glimpse of the outside world. You didn't mind the walking - it was always good for your mind whenever you felt saturated - but lately it seemed as if your boss had the uncanny ability to always demand something new from you whenever you resolved to walk out that door to do anything remotely human. Never being one to be superstitious, when it came to Governor Pryce, you wouldn't give her any more leverage.

You scoffed lightly at yourself. With the boss you had, it was a miracle the cup of caf you were drinking was actually for yourself and not for her. You had a little wager going on in your head to see what else that woman could take from you - so far, she'd already claimed your motivation and a good chunk of your faith in the Empire.

You regretted having Pryce on your thoughts when a notification pushed itself to the corner of your datapad. I'm not available, you thought to yourself, as if that had ever kept you from doing anything that was beneath you before, or worse, getting locked in a task that would absorb all your time and sucked the energy out of you like a leech. There never seemed to be an in between. You scanned the subject and, though you didn't hear alarms being set off in your mind, you did find your interest piqued.

URGENT: Imperial High Command Visit, Subject Classified. All imperial personnel directly reporting to levels SC6 and above must report to direct management for instructions.

And sure enough, you'd have no more peace for the remainder of the morning when you read that. You downed the rest of your caf and mentally braced yourself for what was to come. It wasn't uncommon for you to receive messages like that, but something big usually happened when you did, and you were used to finding out who or what it was about until the very last moments. It looked like it would simply be one of those days, so you grabbed your datapad and left your desk, making your way across the little reception room and into Pryce's office.

One thing you figured you could appreciate about Pryce was that there was never any beating around the bush, and it always made things a lot quicker, even in situations when it felt like you were having a band aid ripped from you. More like a piece of duct tape, but it was quick either way. And when you walked into her office, your back straight and gaze placed directly on your boss, donning what she would deem the desirable posture of an Imperial public servant, Pryce was already standing up from behind her desk with her blue eyes piercing into you.

Only she could make such a beautiful eye color look so menacing.

"You're here not two minutes after my comm was sent," Pryce commented. "I want that efficiency from you every day."

You were that efficient every day, but you weren't about to argue with Pryce about her short-sightedness.

"Put everything you were working with on hold for now," Pryce told you.

You didn't question the importance of the current events, but you never liked it when she told you to cast things aside to make room for her new wishes.

"I need you to send this out as a comm to all staff levels SC5 and below," Pryce handed you a drive, "and then I need you to make sure Congregation Room 2 is set to receive a minimum of seven people, but leave three extra chairs and make sure it's well stocked in refreshments. Put all my comms outside of lines 1 and 2 on standby, redirect comms from lines 4 and 6 towards you, I'm sure those are all things you can handle."

Pryce began walking past you outside of her office, leaving you to follow as you made a mental list of what she was asking.

"Do not answer any questions you're asked by anyone," Pryce continued. "At the most, tell anyone who wants to know to refer to the comm I'm asking you to send out. Now, in that hard drive you'll find the comm, two diagrams, a statement, and a final comm different to the first one which must be sent out only to levels SC6 and above - they are all in the order they're meant to be sent out and the time and date is encrypted in their properties. Stick to them like clockwork, and program anything you need ahead of time. We cannot afford mistakes, I hope I'm clear about that. Once you're done with these duties, find me. I'll need you at my side the whole day."

"Yes, Governor Pryce," you answered with your most professional tone.

Pryce stopped in front of your desk in the reception. "One more thing. Tomorrow night there will be a welcoming gala on the higher levels of the facility. I assume you have something to wear?"

"Ma'am?" You questioned, inevitably puzzled. You were open to many requests from Pryce, and while nearly nothing surprised you anymore, it really sounded like Pryce was inviting you to a fancy event.

"You won't be dancing and fine dining," Pryce sneered. "You'll be assisting me as well as the logistics staff for the event. And, I cannot repeat this with enough emphasis, we cannot afford mistakes. Understand?"

"Yes, ma'am," you answered again.

Pryce was about to leave the reception and finally give you room to work, but she stopped and looked at you again.

"Ah, and refill the caf pots for the entire floor, we're all going to need it," Pryce spat before finally leaving without so much as a thank you or goodbye.

Would you like me to refill the fat cats' caf pots before or after I send out a highly important, classified comm to the entire facility? It was all you could do not to roll your eyes. You didn't want any cameras catching you in the act.

Luckily, you'd gotten very good at prioritizing. The high commands could wait for their caf, and if they couldn't, they could very well brew it themselves. The first thing on the list was checking the drive Pryce had given you so that you could write out any comms and either send them or program them, so you plugged the drive into your computer. You found that one of the diagrams Pryce had told you about wasn't meant to be sent out, but rather, it was full of instructions for you. And according to those instructions, you'd have time to be a professional performing tasks worthy of her level before fulfilling a caf quest that was very much beneath you.

But the other diagram caught your eye - it was a command structure you'd never seen before. You knew many of the names on it, and when you read the one at the top, began to grasp the magnitude of what was happening at Lothal. It seemed Pryce wouldn't be the top authority on the planet anymore, she'd now be answering to someone who carried a title far more imposing than hers.

The diagram was meant to be sent out with the first comm, so you read the draft, and you didn't know whether you should panic, be excited, or hide from anyone who already recognized you as assistant to the Governor who would want privileged answers. Words like Command Structure Reformation, High Level Staff Transition, and Low-level Cost Reduction caught your eye. You'd heard whispers of new projects and seen the factories that were being built on Lothal from afar, and it seemed you were the one being tasked with telling the facility about that. But you had the hunch something like this would only leave everyone with more questions than answers. No wonder Pryce had warned you about people asking you things, but you doubted it was out of any effort to protect you. She'd essentially just asked you to keep from saying anything that might spill any secrets.

You sent out the first comm immediately and scheduled anything else for the day, including the comm about the gala—that one got you wondering if you'd at least be paid extra, but you had little faith in that. When you were done with that, you locked the computer and removed the drive, and you took your datapad with you as well for whatever came up. You were now headed towards Congregation Room 2 to oversee its preparations, hoping to swiftly fulfill the second part of your instructions for that morning, but as you were leaving the reception room and entering the main hallway, you were abruptly almost bumped into by Pryce herself, who rushed down the hall followed by three Imperial men in high-ranking uniforms. Despite her urgency, she stopped to glare at you.

"Do not tell me you're only just finishing the comms," Pryce snarled. "Hurry up and fill the pots! Are you trying to make the staff furious?"

Without any other acknowledgement towards you, Pryce and the other imperials continued on their way. You felt heat rushing to your cheeks with the words you couldn't say to her, such as how perhaps she forgot what it was like to do routine comm writing or basically any other task the commoner would have to do any day and how long some of those could take ever since she got a high horse and an assistant. But you also knew if you stood there pondering, you'd get yelled at again—the fact that Pryce had chosen to do that in front of others made your blood boil, but as much as you didn't appreciate being humiliated as "that aloof assistant" in front of anyone, you had things to do, lowly as they were.

Another push notification presented itself on your datapad, which you stopped in your tracks to look at.

From: Governor Pryce

On your desk I left a stack of binders for Congregation Room 2. Do not forget them.

You added that little detail to the list of things to keep track of.

With each pot of caf you filled, a tiny part in your brain wondered if anyone would notice if you spat in it. The thought amused you, but you also feared Pryce far too much to try any stunts like that. Something told you she'd notice you sabotaging a pot of caf even if she was on a different planet. You let your fantasies of getting away with mischief get you through that particularly unpleasant part of the morning and finally headed back to your desk for the binders from Pryce and then towards the congregation room, walking so fast you would run if you went any quicker. It was a miracle you didn't drop the binders in the middle of the hallway, and you were happy fate was apparently smiling at you that day to prevent any more embarrassment in front of Imperial high command.

When you arrived, you were pleased to see that the room wasn't a mess. The large table in the center was perfectly clean, with no traces of dust, and the chairs had already been pushed in and straightened out neatly. The room had that corporate smell to it that you both loved and hated, and it was so quiet that it was oddly peaceful. You liked the way the blueish-gray walls were embellished by the large paintings on the walls, one on each of the longer sides of the room. You wished you had more time to admire them both, one of the landscapes of Lotha, and the other one far more abstract with bright shades of orange, magenta, some yellow, and hints of gold on a cream-colored canvas.

You set a binder down on each spot of the table, and then you tested the light dimmers in the room. You then placed a bottle of water next to each binder, and finally, you brewed a pot of caf for the Congregation Room that you hoped would be your last, at least for that day. Still, you admitted you could use another cup of fully loaded black caf yourself.

For a while, the sound of the caf brewing was the only thing to fill your ears. You watched the rich, dark droplets falling into the pot and filling it, letting your mind get some sort of rest. You had the strange feeling that you'd been worked to the bone and yet you hadn't accomplished anything that day... that was a feeling you got very often in your job.

"Strange to see two very opposing art pieces put together in one room," a deep, male voice inundated your senses, rich and luxurious like the caf filling the pot in front of you.

Despite the voice's velvet qualities, you jumped up on the spot, startled, and you turned to face its source.

"I apologize, I did not mean to startle you," he said. He was a tall Chiss man in a white uniform, his profile frame facing you as he faced the painting of the landscape of Lothal's countryside. His posture was regal, with his hands placed behind his back, resting in lightly formed fists. "It would seem a more traditional choice to have paintings that are similar to one another, enough for them to complement but not cause any redundancy."

When he finished speaking, the man looked at you, his deep crimson gaze both gentle and penetrating on you.

"Would you agree?" He asked you.

You didn't have an idea of what to answer, and even if you did, you were stunned. You'd never crossed paths with someone like him before - his aura was intoxicating, and the fact that he had deemed you worthy of addressing spiraled in your mind. Any other imperial would have looked at you over the nose and deemed their time too important to waste on a mere assistant.

"I-I-" You paused to clear your throat, cursing your sudden inability to speak. "I have indeed seen that tendency in other places, just not here. Personally, I like the other painting a lot more."

Your mind began to race as you worried whether you were supposed to salute him or do anything, but it would depend on his rank. You figured standing up straight and not making a further fool out of yourself would suffice, but you looked over at the plaque over his chest just to be sure.

It wasn't a pattern or a rank you recognized. Had that man smitten you that hard?

He gave you the hint of a smile before turning around and looking at the other painting, the abstract piece, and he took his time to admire it. You wondered if perhaps you should offer him a cup of caf, ask him if he was there for the staff meeting, comment more on the painting... you had no clue.

But the silence was suffocating you, and you knew you wanted to hear more of his luscious voice. You looked at the plaque on his chest and took your best guess at his rank judging by the sequence of colors - you didn't get to be assistant to the Governor without memorizing imperial structure level well before.

"Admiral," you stammered minimally, "is there something I can help you with?"

Slowly, his frame turned towards you, his lips again curved ever so slightly. "It is Grand Admiral, actually."

You felt heat rushing to your cheeks - even your best guess based on your experience didn't save you from messing up in front of the greatest force of nature that facility had seen in a while.

"O-oh, I apogolize--er, apologize," you stuttered.

You wanted to scream, so you resorted to just doing it internally. It then dawned on you who this man really was based on his rank alone. The reason your morning had been so hectic was standing right there in front of you, watching you squirm. This was the man Governor Pryce would answer to from now on. Grand Admiral Thrawn. You straightened your back at the realization and bowed your head shortly before looking him in the eyes again, and much to your surprise, he seemed amused with you. Not in the high-and-mighty way, but rather, it was almost as if something about you was endearing.

"You may be at ease," Thrawn said. "I would like to hear your thoughts on this abstract piece. You said you prefer this over the other one."

You breathed in before speaking and hoped your language skills didn't fail you again, and you took just a couple of paces closer to him, allowing yourself to view the painting better.

"Well, I'm no expert," you warned.

"You do not have to be," Thrawn mused. "Appreciation of the arts can be enhanced by knowledge, but the true purpose of art is to produce sensations in the viewer. Any insight you may have to share is valuable."

You looked at the painting again and found it in yourself to relax. "I like the warmth of the colors. And their livelihood, too. It makes me think of freedom, and the gold flecks seem to speak about the beauty of that freedom, as well as the luxury of having it."

"This desire of freedom speaks to you?" He asked you.

You then realized you were talking about lacking freedom to an Imperial Grand Admiral, and you felt your already racing heart quicken.

"I'm grateful for my work and I have no complaints," you corrected despite your many complaints about your boss that morning, easing yourself back into what the painting produced within you. "It's just that... the bright pinks and oranges are hard not to notice in the middle of these gray walls... they can become confining after too many hours in them."

"Hm," Thrawn hummed. "I always prefer having a view myself. I share your sentiment."

You figured having a Grand Admiral's agreement on an art matter was the biggest compliment you'd get that day.

"Might I ask," you began, "what do you think of it?"

Thrawn side-eyed you, but the attitude with which he did it seemed pleased, as well as intrigued with you. He then looked at the painting again. "This color palette reminds me of a current I've been witnessing in none other but rebellious efforts. There is a certain diversity to it, as well as the clear nature of abstract art mirroring the rebellion itself. Your observations of the contrast of the color with the gray of our facilities and the need for freedom only confirm to me that I was not far off with my own initial interpretation."

You were dazed, and the need to speak more plunged into you like thorns.

"How interesting," you said with an airy voice. "For these sorts of emotions to be manifested to multiple people in a similar way."

"Yes," Thrawn said. "Though current context may have some influence on this... collective perception."

Before the conversation could advance, you heard the sound of Governor Pryce's voice approaching from down the hall, her words quick and frantic, clashing with your and Thrawn's aura like nails scratching smooth stone. Soon enough, Pryce appeared at the door of the room with a large number of Imperials behind her, and though she was relieved to find Thrawn there, you could tell she was displeased at the sight of you standing with him.

"Grand Admiral, please excuse the lack of hospitality," Pryce said as she glared at you.

"Not at all, Governor Pryce, I have been well-received," Thrawn said; you could have sworn you noticed him glance at you as he did.

Regardless of Thrawn trying to ease some of the weight off you, the last thing you wanted was to have Pryce suspect anything less than decent coming from you. But fortunately, you noticed Pryce scanning the room, hopefully noticing everything was set up exactly according to her instruction. And now that she had come to you, it wasn't necessary for you to go out and look for her like she'd told you earlier.

Pryce suppressed a scoff. "Yes, well, it appears this room has been prepared properly for your arrival." She then faced the rest of the Imperials behind her. "Please come in. My assistant will help accommodate you."

You understood the instruction and acknowledged Thrawn one last time before walking over to the doorway and directing multiple people towards their chairs around the table. Before Pryce took her own seat, she approached you and leaned in close to your shoulder - your mind raced with the question of whether she would congratulate or choke you.

"You are not to be left alone with the Grand Admiral again, do you understand?" She whispered, but the aggression of her tone was anything but inconspicuous.

"Yes ma'am," you acknowledged without trying to offer any explanation in return.

"Stay here at the back of the room," Pryce ordered. "Oblige to any request these officers may have. I don't want slip-ups."

"Yes, ma'am," you repeated.

"And this goes without saying, but none of what you are about to hear us discuss leaves this room," Pryce added. "This is of the highest confidentiality."

You nodded. "I understand, ma'am."

You knew Pryce was mad at finding you alone with Thrawn, but if she still kept you at that meeting, you had no reason to fear you'd be unemployed tomorrow. The meeting took hours, all through which you kindly obliged to whatever was needed from you.

And you felt crimson eyes on you all the while.

*

The morning after, bright and early, you arrived at your office and noticed a surprise on your desk. Pryce was nowhere to be seen, but on top of the stack of folders and datapads waiting for you to check on them, there was a bag over your desk with a delicate parchment on it that had your name written in ink. It looked large enough to hold a gown, and you remembered Pryce had mentioned something about you having an outfit for the welcoming gala you'd attend that night.

Pryce got me a dress? Employer review season must be coming up.

You pushed the jokes aside in your brain and decided to be more appreciative. Besides, it was far more likely Pryce would rather give you what she wanted you to wear before risking letting you make a poor fashion choice, thus surely rendering the welcoming gala a complete, unsaveable failure.

You took the parchment from the bag and noticed the other side of it had more writing on it.

Art deserves to be appreciated.

You felt your heart skip a beat and the oxygen leaving your head. That dress wasn't from Pryce, it was from Thrawn. It made you all the more motivated to unzip the dress bag and look at what was inside, and you felt your breath leaving your body when you saw the exquisite black fabric of the long gown. The outer layer of the dress was primarily lace, with sequins and beads very discreetly forming delicate flower forms every few inches. You knew it was high couture when your fingertips brushed the fabric, the quality evident under your touch—you tried not to think how much it cost.

Were you even supposed to accept a gift like that? You weren’t sure. It might not even fit, and even if it did, maybe you were expected to return it after the gala.

But who were you to refuse a request from a Grand Admiral? It’s not as if Pryce hadn’t told you to oblige to anything those Imperials the day before, and to your knowledge, that included Thrawn.

That day at work didn’t have you running up and down the facility like the day before, constantly required at Pryce’s side, beck, and call, but the workload didn’t stop. Between comms regarding structure changes, further details being given to the public, overseeing preparations for the gala and familiarizing yourself with the guestlist of the event, and the routine work you always did day to day for Pryce, you were hardly able to leave your desk.

But all that made the end of the day much sweeter, and when you were off your shift, you hurried home with the gown in hand. Quickly, you showered, dried your hair and styled it for the night, dolled yourself up with makeup and perfume, and at last, it was time for the dress. You were suddenly nervous about the dress not fitting, but when you tried it on, it slipped on you with ease and hugged your silhouette beautifully. The crop of the dress was perfect for your body type, and it accentuated your curves in all the right places.

Either Thrawn had someone investigate all your measurements to find the perfect fit, or he was able to eye you up and down and determine that for himself. Either way, your heart began to race. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t like the attention you were getting.

You grabbed a pair of shoes that went well with the dress and added some finishing touches to yourself, and you still had about an hour to spare before the time Pryce had asked you to be at the facility pre-event. You were out your door regardless. You figured, for an event like that, arriving sooner couldn’t hurt if only it meant having a bit more control over it.

As Pryce’s assistant, you’d been to the higher levels of the capitol a few times before for events of the sort, but you’d never seen the place decorated like it was now. The burgundy walls looked even more opulent with the warm golden lighting, and there were several tables laid out around a dance floor, each one decorated with similar burgundy, wine, and gold motifs with extravagant floral centerpieces and delicate glassware for each member that would occupy a spot in them. At the head of the dance floor there was an elongated table whose decoration matched that of the others, with exactly seven seats on it. Your chest fluttered when you glanced at the middle seat. Your day of overseeing preparations for the event had made you all too familiar with who would be occupying that spot.

You still had a job to do. You made sure the logistics team was spot on with last-minute arrangements, verifying there was enough food and wine for everyone who would be there. You went to confirm that every sound, music, and holo-projection worked properly and no one would be embarrassed on behalf of technical difficulties. Because of you, everything was spot-on well before any guests started arriving.

Timely as always, the first one to do so was Pryce. She donned an elegant gown, but as elegant as she looked, she still had that authoritarian air to her, rather than the aura of someone who went to enjoy herself. And she looked around the room not turning up her nose at anything; it seemed she was satisfied with your work for the time being. She walked up to you, and although you’d done a good job, you knew not to expect congratulations from her.

“Perform routine checks every fifteen minutes,” she instructed. “Light, sound, refreshments, staff—we need full stock at all times.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you replied.

It was only then that Pryce stopped and looked at you up and down.

“Where did you get a gown like that?” She questioned. “You look like a guest.” “It just happened to be lying around,” you answered. No way were you about to tell her it was a gift from Thrawn.

“Yes, well, good on you for matching the event’s elegance,” Pryce said. “I shall leave you to your duties. I need to receive the guests at the door, but you’ll need to take them to their places.”

If you didn’t know any better, you’d swear Pryce had just complimented you in some way. Regardless, you obliged to her orders and powered up your datapad to view the seating charts, and soon enough, everyone began to arrive. You were grateful you’d chosen a comfortable pair of shoes for the night, otherwise your feet would have already been killing you from walking up and down the room taking everyone to their places. You were unaware of how much time had gone past, but it seemed like you’d successfully gotten almost everyone to their chairs. The next time you were at the entrance to receive your next guest, you glanced down at your datapad to get a clearer vision of how many seats were still empty.

You then looked up to find crimson eyes staring at you, and you were unable to control the smile that curved your lips. In turn, Thrawn’s gaze traced your entire silhouette, and the intoxicating scent of your perfume didn’t escape him. His faint smile held triumph; he was always pleased when his plans worked out according to his machination.

“May I lead you towards your seat?” You asked him.

He nodded and, to your surprise, Thrawn held out his arm bent at a right angle and offered it to you. You raised your eyebrows and looked at him, puzzled.

“A lady must never cross a ballroom such as this unescorted,” he said to you.

If you hadn’t been working that night, you already would have given out.

You obliged to Thrawn’s offer and linked your arm in his as you led him towards the long table at the top of the dance floor. It was hard to ignore the looks you were getting, and you were privy to the confusion in the eyes of many of the people who were looking your way, no doubt questioning themselves why such a lovely lady at the arm of the Grand Admiral was also clearly an employee. You were certain that if they hadn’t already seen you leading them to their spots with a datapad in your hands, you would have been mistaken for Thrawn’s plus one.

You reached the table and gestured at the middle seat, where Thrawn sat in all his regality. With a final nod of acknowledgement, you smiled at him and made your way back towards the entrance, aware of the fact that you swayed your hips slightly more than usual as you walked away.

Hours wore on. Your management of the event was spotless, and everything was on schedule. The food during dinner was warm, and no one was left waiting obscenely long for a refill of their drink. Speeches were made by the staff, including Pryce and Thrawn himself, talking not only about the supremacy of the Empire but also the great plans they had in mind for Lothal—but you’d already heard enough of that during the meeting the day before.

After dinner and all the formalities, the gathering turned more festive and people took to the dance floor to sway to the elegant string music. From that point on, the night also relaxed for you and the rest of the staff, as everyone was mostly just minding their own business. You stood at the corner of the room watching as everyone danced, and you couldn’t help but search for Thrawn with your gaze. A part of you hoped not to find him dancing with another lucky woman, but you shook the thought away. He wasn’t on the dance floor anyway.

In fact, you couldn’t spot him anywhere.

Your thoughts were interrupted when Pryce rushed to you, seemingly concerned.

“You need to get General Perkins some water, now,” she said.

You nodded and pulled your datapad out. “Getting a waiter on it now—”

“No,” Pryce interrupted. “No, the man is drunk out of his mind. I fear what he’ll do if he’s confronted by a waiter. You at least look the part of a partygoer.”

“O-okay,” you obliged.

“Hurry,” Pryce growled before walking off.

You partly understood the urgency; you didn’t want a drunk imperial on your hands either. You hurried over to the bar and filled two glasses with water and carried both on a tray with your data pad on the other hand. You tried to make your way around the dance floor, but everyone was gathered around the tables at the edges, and from afar, you noticed General Perkins already beginning to swoon in his seat, his eyes threatening to close as he laughed absently.

Yeah, no wonder Pryce had told you to hurry. The dance floor wasn’t as crowded anyway—you figured you had better chances going through it.

You came to regret your decision when, halfway across the dancefloor, another less than graceful Imperial general crashed into you. You managed to keep your balance and not fall, but your datapad was knocked out of your hand and slammed to the floor loudly. The water from both of the glasses splashed all over you, and the glasses shattered on the floor scandalously followed by the clanking of the silver tray after them.

Everyone around you took several steps back, leaving you exposed. The general who’d crashed into you disappeared without acknowledging you, and you were the sole center of embarrassment, feeling as the blood rushed to your face. You wanted to hide, but multiple pairs of eyes pierced into you, judging you, whispering amongst themselves words you didn’t even want to speculate.

Pryce rushed towards you and glanced at the scene before glaring straight into your soul.

“You’re fired,” she spat, and as she left, she gestured at two nearby waiters to clean up the mess.

Your chest heaved up and down as you processed what had just happened, and just as you were about to run away from the scene, you felt your hand being taken and an arm gripping swiftly at your waist. You gasped when Thrawn came into your view in front of you, holding you up despite what had just happened, and you could almost feel everyone’s soul leaving their body. Before Thrawn met your gaze, he looked over at the band and with a single nod instructed them to begin playing. When the music resumed, Thrawn’s gaze finally met yours, and he led you across the dance floor, spinning you and waltzing with you, becoming one with the music.

Your jaw dropped, and your eyes on him were dreamy. “Why are you doing this?”

He smiled at you, purposefully spinning the two of you more elaborately. “Dance, my darling. Dance.”

Exhaling all the tension in your chest, you smiled up at Thrawn and let him dance you away.

Around you, couples began to swarm to the dance floor once more minding the waiters cleaning up the shattered glass. In the second plane, you could hear the drunken general already making a mess, but that wasn’t your problem anymore now that Pryce had fired you. You simply let Thrawn lead the way, and when you weren’t dancing with him, you were at his side with your arm in his, holding a glass of champagne in your free hand that you never would have gotten as an assistant, and you actually found it in yourself to enjoy the evening.

When it was late, Thrawn led you outside to the courtyard. You both stopped and looked each other in the eyes—he towered over you, and you loved that. You smiled softly at him, eyes seemingly sparkling in the dark.

“Thank you for what you did back there,” you said.

Thrawn’s faint smile widened almost imperceptibly. “My pleasure.”

You looked down, blushing. “Thank you for the gown, too.”

Thrawn gave a low chuckle. “You look exquisite in it.”

A thought formed in the back of your mind at what he’d just said, and suddenly you found blood rushing between your legs at the idea of you being outside of the beautiful gown.

“Shall I take you home?” He asked you.

Your heart sank, but just as you were about to accept, you noticed Thrawn moving himself closer to you, his hand moving up to your cheek to gently brush your skin.

“Or perhaps… you would like to accompany me?” Thrawn suggested.

You knew you could say no, but every fiber of your body wanted to follow him wherever he could take you. Slowly, you nodded, desire already flooding your gaze, and the transition from the courtyard to his private quarters went by in a blur. You felt slightly out of touch when you stood in the opulent living room, unsure of what to do—you’d never done anything of the sort before. The place was absolutely beautiful, though, with a regal blue and silver color palette and a large window overlooking the entire Lothal skyline. The furniture inside was of the highest grade, and there were multiple paintings, crafts, and sculptures decorating the place. Not even in your wildest dreams did you picture yourself standing in a place like that, but regardless, there you were.

Thrawn gestured at the couch in front of an automatic fireplace that ignited when you sat, and he disappeared for a few moments only to return with two glasses of wine. He sat next to you, handing you your glass, setting his cup on the caf table as you took a sip from your cup. That was the best wine you’d ever tasted.

After a few moments in silence, Thrawn took your cup and placed it on the table next to his. His hands went up to cup your face where his fingertips could gently brush the hair growing out of the nape of your neck, and he leaned in to kiss your lips. You sighed into his touch and let him in. your hands brushed up his arms and past his shoulders, and your arms wrapped around his upper back. Part of you expected him to push forward and take you there on that couch, but you felt Thrawn standing and pulling you along with him, pausing his kiss to lead you across the room towards his chamber. The bedroom’s opulent aesthetic matched that of the living room, and when you both entered, you noticed Thrawn pressing a control on the walls that lowered a solid gray curtain over the large window and dimmed the lights.

It was then that your gaze fell on the large bed at the center of the room, causing you to whimper softly in anticipation. You heard Thrawn chuckle softly behind you as he approached you with his fingertips softly tracing up the sides of your arms, landing at your shoulders. He swept your hair away from your neck and you felt his breath fanning over your skin, flooding you with shivers in the best way possible.

“You are gorgeous,” Thrawn whispered before kissing you just below your ear. He trailed his kisses down towards your collarbone, stopping where the fabric of your gown began only to make his way back up. You sighed in pleasure as you relished in every tingling sensation left by his lips, and before long, you felt Thrawn’s fingers beginning to undo the zipper at the side of your gown.

You felt the fabric of your dress becoming loose on your body, and as Thrawn continued to lavish your skin, he carefully slipped the dress down your curves. Your body was now exposed, with the only item of fabric left on you being a delicate pair of panties. You turned around on the spot and faced him, watching as his eyes brushed through every inch of your body with hunger. His hands were now on your waist pulling you closer to him again, and he kissed your lips with a brighter fire than before. Your hands snaked up his chest and landed behind his neck, your fingertips playing with his skin just above the rim of his neckline. Thrawn looked handsome in his white uniform, but you wanted him to be naked too.

You wondered if he could read your mind, because as you continued to kiss, Thrawn undid the buttons of his blazer and he cast it aside, proceeding to remove the shirt that covered his skin. With a light moan, you let your hands roam free towards his trousers and undid the belt, button, and zipper, and soon enough, he’d lost all the clothing on his body. You felt his fingertips curling around your panties, spreading the fabric enough to pull it down and let it fall at your feet. His hands explored your curves before he led you towards the bed, letting you lie on your back and taking his place beside you, his broad frame hovering over you.

He kissed your lips again, and you sank into the mattress below as you felt your body shiver with his touch. Thrawn’s fingertips had found your inner thighs, tracing ever so softly and igniting your senses, prompting you to spread your legs nice and slow as he continued to tease the sensitive skin leading up between your legs. You felt your pulse come alive in your clit, aching for his touch, hoping he wouldn’t keep you waiting for so long. Thrawn had been such a gentleman ever since you’d met… surely he wouldn’t let you down when he’d already been doing so well.

Thrawn’s lips curved into a seductive smile, and finally, he traced a sole fingertip from your entrance and up your cunt, dragging the wetness over your sensitive flesh. You couldn’t help the ecstatic moan that left you, and Thrawn wasted no more time. With precision, he began to rub circles around your clit slowly, letting you feel everything. As your breath deepened, your body started squirming under him, a sight he welcomed with lust. His lips were on yours again, and you kissed him hungrily. Your pants became shorter with every moment that passed, already nearing your release.

But as much as Thrawn wanted you, he wouldn’t be impatient. He would take his time, do it right, the way he approached everything else. His fingers gave your clit a rest, making you whimper in the absence of his touch. Thrawn emerged from your lips and looked into your eyes as he took his fingers down and placed them at your entrance, sliding one slender, long finger inside you and curling it, pressing your sweetest spot. Pleasure instantly flooded your senses, and you felt as if you’d just had a secret revealed to you of the magnitude of the universe itself.

No one had ever made you feel that way.

You grind your hips against his hand, aching for more friction, and Thrawn obliged. The pace with which he fingered you increased just slightly, applying more pressure to set your mind ablaze, and the rest of his hand pressed slightly on your clit, giving you some very welcome sensations on the pearl of nerves. Your tiny whimpers escalated in pitch and in frequency the closer you got, with your hands gripping his hair behind his head, until soon you felt yourself tightening around his finger and your body quivering. Your whimpers became uncontrollable moans, each filled with burning ecstasy. Your head pressed back onto the pillow, and as your body shook, you felt your wetness dripping out between your legs as you rode out your orgasm, never wanting it to stop.

Before you were overstimulated, Thrawn retrieved his hand and pulled you towards him. Now he was lying on his back and you were sitting on the bed, panting to catch your breath. He pulled you closer, prompting you to get on top of him, and you stopped only momentarily to gasp at his erection, long and hard and ready for you. You placed your hands firmly on his muscular chest, steadying yourself, and you opened your legs and shimmied down until you felt his tip at your entrance.

A short moan escaped Thrawn when you slid yourself down on him. You were slow, taking in every moment you could as he stretched you out inside, painful and beautiful all at once. His length was fully inside you, and with a firm grip on your hips, Thrawn thrust up and down, beginning at a slow, luxurious pace. You threw your head back, moaning, then looked down to bask in the sight of his muscular build clenching and relaxing with his movements. You bent over and let your lips kiss whatever spot of Thrawn’s skin was in reach, and the new position gave you a mind-blowing angle for his length to lavish your inner walls, brushing past the spots he’d already left so sensitive from your previous orgasm. Thrawn’s pace quickened, nuzzling your face so that your lips could find his, and locked in a kiss, you continued basking in the bliss.

His hands then firmly grasped your ass and he turned you over on the bed, now on top of you. While Thrawn’s pace had initially been that of a gentleman, slow and at your service, you could tell he’d decided to let go of any bars holding him. His hips hammered into you faster, his teeth baring in a hungry grimace as a single low growl escaped him, and in return, you whimpered delicately as you let him have his way with you. Thrawn was moving faster than you ever could have thought possible for any man, but even that thought would be erased from your mind when you saw white. Your long, ecstatic moans filled the entirety of his quarters when your walls clenched around his girth and your body quaked underneath him, with his name and his rank escaping you loosely before those words became nothing but helpless little whines.

As Thrawn felt himself approaching his release, he lowered himself down on you to kiss your lips. You whimpered into him just as your second orgasm had died down, escalating obscenely quickly into a third one, the sensations peaking when your orgasm blended with his and you felt him release inside you before he relaxed his body on top of you.

After such an endeavor, you had no headspace left for anything but lying there beside him. You heard Thrawn whisper a few words to you, but you couldn’t make sense of any of what he said. The last thing you could register as you curled up on your side was the feeling of a blanket being draped over you and a pair of lips softly pressing a kiss to your forehead, and after that, you were done for the night.

Your sleep was dreamless, and when you woke up the morning after, you didn’t see Thrawn beside you. As you sat up, you felt a beautiful lingering soreness between your legs, and you couldn’t help but giggle to yourself as you remembered the events of the previous night, not just your time alone with Thrawn, but everything that led up to it. The curtain had been lifted from the window, and you saw outside that the sun was well up in the sky, and yet, you didn’t have a worry in the world.

You got out of the bed with the blanket wrapped around your body, and on the nightstand, you noticed a tray with a piece of bread, a glass of juice, and a tiny vase with a single red rose on it. You grinned brightly and felt your cheeks getting hot, and you reached for the little parchment that rested beside the plate of bread, smiling as you read the fine calligraphy.

Have a beautiful day. See you tonight.

You lay on the bed again, smiling with a dreamy sigh and holding the parchment in your hand as you let your mind wonder what you’d do with your newfound time and freedom until the night came and you could see your lover again.

Thank you so much for reading! If you liked this, please consider reblogging to support me ❤️

Back to my masterlist

[megamindsecretlair]

So um I’m kinda obsessed with Aaron and that fic you just wrote kinda makes me feel like I’m going through withdrawals😂😂….. so um are we gonna get the part where he eats her like a full meal cause um yea (Love your writing btw❤️)

A/N: Not with that dynamic, anon, but how about this one??

Let Me Take Control

Pairing: Toxic!Neighbor!Terry Richmond x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. PWP, cursing, PIV, fingering (female receiving), oral (fem receiving), teasing, size kink, dirty talk, degradation kink, praise kink sprinkled in, rough sex, persuasion, reader is able to be picked up, use of n-word, all consensual.

Summary: Your fine as hell neighbor, Terry, hits you up late at night with a text. Already knowing what’s ‘bout to go down, you invite him over and get yourself ready for an unforgettable night.

Word Count: 3,807k

AO3 Link

A/N: MISS HIMMMM. I watched Rebel Ridge for the (mindyabidness) time and I neeeeeeed him! WHEW! Ya'll blew my first fic up, and YALL. Don't make me cry with all your sweet words! Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

That Munch: You up?

Your phone chimed and you flipped over in bed, reaching for your phone on your nightstand. You opened the message to see a text from your fine ass neighbor, Terry. You popped up in bed, bouncing with the effort as you turned on the lamp.

Cool light flooded the room, taking mercy on your sleep deprived eyes. You pulled the bonnet off of your head and assessed your hair. It was currently coiled into a bun to keep it neat, but your braids were recent and still fresh. Good, you were gonna need that extra strength. 

You bit your lip as you texted back.

You: What’s up?

That Munch: Can’t sleep.

Your heart skipped a beat. Terry said the two magic words that got your blood thumping. Your core heating up to dangerous levels. You hopped out of bed and ran to the bathroom to freshen your breath and relieve yourself. 

You washed your hands and looked at yourself in the mirror. Terry’s brain needed to be studied. It was like he knew what you were missing without even having to ask. Or think about it. You were just tossing and turning in bed, sleep eluding you for the hundredth time. You were running through possible solutions when that little chime and those two words fell from the sky like a divine intervention. 

You texted back, feeling a little giddy that he was up and willing. You’d been like two ships passing in the fog lately. Always arriving or leaving a touch out of sync with each other. He would just be getting in the elevator when you left your apartment. He was just closing his door when you were emerging from yours.

And once inside, you usually kept contact to a minimum. Tried to put Terry into a box. Firmly in the neighbors with benefits column. He was too fine. Too hot. Too intense to ever be a regular thing. You couldn’t stand it. Looking at that man night and day? Please, you’d die. 

You paced the room in your oversized T-shirt and panties, biting your lip as you waited for the short trek through his apartment, out of his door, and the knock on yours. When it came, you skipped to the front door on a bed of nerves. Each footfall felt like lead and each heart beat felt like a stab in your chest.

You opened the door and leaned your head against it. “Hey stranger,” you said, keeping your cool around this man.

You were terrible at it, actually. Terry blinked those pretty electric eyes at you and entered your apartment. You closed the door behind him and locked the door, taking the time to admire his back side. He didn’t wear anything but some long joggers that cupped around his ankles. His ass was well rounded, looking good enough to bite. One side was slightly higher on his calf and for no reason at all, it was the hottest thing ever. 

He turned around and his eyes softened. “Were you sleep?” He asked. 

His voice alone sent shivers down your spine. On the inside, you were screaming. He was too damn hot to be real. He was like a marble statue made real. He moved with care. Purposeful. You shook your head and with it your thoughts. “You know that ain’t true,” you said.

“Why didn’t you text me?” He asked. He stepped closer, crowding into your space. The door was the only thing holding you up at the moment. He approached, stepping into your personal space. Close enough to feel the heat radiating off of his smooth skin. 

You shrugged. “‘Case you were busy. I came home late tonight,” you said.

Terry smirked and tilted his head. “Has that ever stopped us before?” He asked.

You shook your head. Terry bent his head down and kissed your cheek. You gasped, lips parting as he left behind tingles. Your breathing began to hurt your lungs, breathing too fast and too hard. He hadn’t even done anything yet. 

“You been tossing and turning when you know I’m right next door? Willing? Eager?” He asked. 

You shivered even though he was hot enough to fill the room. You kept your hands down at your sides. If you started touching him now, this would be over before it started. His shoulders were broad, honed, sculpted. His full lips glowed in the low ambient light in your living room. 

“Terry,” you said, more of a warning than a plea. This was why you didn’t call him. This was why your brain didn’t even give you that option. It always felt like you were taking advantage, knowing he wanted more and you continued to toy with his feelings.

It wasn’t on purpose. You truly couldn’t decide to take that ride with him or not. If you were ready to be with someone so grown. So in control. You were used to little fuckboys who played in your face. Who were bigger drama queens than you were and that shit didn’t fly.

But Terry? Terry was a different breed. Falling into his lap was almost an accident. You were smart enough to know your limits but dumb enough to toss them right out of the window. 

Terry took your hand and led you away from the door. You smiled at him as he moved without light to your bedroom. You supposed each layout of the apartments were about the same, with some variations. Did that mean his room shared a wall with your bathroom? The thought alone had you biting your lip picturing him all glistening wet. 

Inside your bedroom, Terry spun you around and pulled you against the nearest wall. He smirked at you and then he leaned down, bringing his lips to yours but not kissing you. You pouted when you caught up and looked at him.

“I missed you too,” he said. 

You took a deep breath and laughed. “I didn’t say that,” you said. 

“You were thinking it,” he said. He blinked slowly, lips touching but not completely. You couldn’t feel the full weight of them and you leaned forward, trying to close that distance. Terry leaned out of the way at the last minute, making you grunt.

“You want to fall asleep or not?” You asked, sucking your teeth. Trying to hide how turned on you were. How needy. You could feel your slick leaking out of you and you just needed some damn friction.  

Terry’s eyes narrowed. His hand slipped around your throat with such ease, you didn’t even feel him moving. “Who you think you talkin’ to like that?” He asked. 

You moaned, eyes crossing at the slight pressure. “You got an attitude with me?” He asked.

You tried to shake your head. Ah, shit. It was one of those nights. You moaned even though you shook your head again. You didn’t mean to get him riled up so quickly. 

“You sure? You talkin’ real reckless for someone who want they pussy licked, huh?” He asked. He squeezed your neck and you threw your head back, placing a hand on his chest. You couldn’t take it. You were on fire. Licks of flame made its way through your veins. 

“I’m sorry!” You moaned. 

Terry chuckled and finally kissed you, bringing you forward by his grip on your throat. “You lucky I’m just hungry tonight.”

“Oh fuck,” you moaned.

Terry released your neck and dropped to his knees. He was still tall as hell, so it didn’t really look like he knelt. The look in his eyes at this angle had you sighing. He didn’t have a merciful bone in his body. Even on his knees, looking up to you, he looked defiant.  Challenging. Like he wanted you to fight him because he knew that he’d win. 

Terry’s big, strong hands came around to cup your ass. He separated your ass cheeks, giving it a full squeeze, before releasing. Your ass jiggled and Terry hummed and kissed your belly. 

“When you gon’ stop playing with me?” He asked. 

You cupped his cheek and scratched at his beard. He closed his eyes and hummed, a deep rumbling in his chest. Almost like he was purring. 

“Not now, Terry,” you said. You were too lost in the sauce. Too lost in the depth of those eyes. Swirls of brown and blue and green, like he contained the world in them. You’d agree to anything right now and he didn’t need to know that.

Terry lifted your shirt, kissing all over your stomach. He left fat, wet kisses on your skin. You ran your nails across his fade, filling the slight ripples. His hair was coarse, feeling like heaven against the palm of your hand. Terry moved lower and pulled your leg over his shoulder. 

He pushed your panties to the side, taking a deep breath and moaned. “Smell so fuckin’ good,” he said. His tongue darted out and licked you from entrance to clit. You yelped and collapsed against him, leaning all of your weight on him.

Terry hummed, purred, and placed a hand on your belly and pushed. You fell back against the cold wall, yelping from the shock of it. Terry kept one arm under your leg, supporting your hip from the back. His other flattened across your belly, pushing you against the wall and stabilizing you.

“I was laying in my bed, trynna think of what would make me go to sleep. And then, I started thinking about this pretty pussy,” he said. He began to eat you out and talk through it, dragging his lips. He spoke these words into your pussy like he was writing affirmations into your skin with his tongue. 

“About how you get so wet, so quick. My favorite is when you start leaking down your leg,” he said. At the end of the sentence, he sucked on your clit and you cried out, gripping his shoulders and trying to push. He held you down, held you open, while he purred.

“I like knowing you get so needy, you can’t help it. You’d fuck anything nearby, wouldn’t you?” He cooed into your pussy. 

Your teeth chattered as he licked and prodded at your entrance, gathering up your essence, and suckling it all down. He moved back up to your clit, playing with the swollen nub with the tip of his tongue. You shivered against him and he moved with you, dodging your attempts to turn to mush in his arms. 

“And then I started thinking, hmmm, I need that. I need to bust down that throat. Or maybe save this load for this pussy. She look hungry,” he said, moving his lips between your folds. 

“Oh god, oh god,” you moaned. The fire he started went straight to your lower belly, clenching painfully as you neared an orgasm. Why was it so difficult to maintain a cool exterior with this man? In no time at all, he already had you screaming to the heavens. Screaming for any neighbors to hear that he was hand delivering pleasure.

His hand squeezed your ass and you moaned, biting your lip painfully. His lips began smacking, suckling on your clit and releasing it with a loud smack. Your clit throbbed, uselessly clenching around nothing. 

“Please, Terry, oh god, please, please,” you begged. 

“Keep begging, baby, shit turns me on,” he said, repeatedly suckling your clit. 

“Oh fuck,” you moaned, finally letting the climax take over. You shook and shivered, flopping against the wall and turning boneless. Terry kept up with your flopping, chuckling evilly as he continued to eat you out while you spasmed on him. 

“That’s it. That’s it, beautiful. Let all that shit go,” he whispered into your pussy. You didn’t know how you heard him. Perhaps he was just that good. Just that in control. That deep voice was lower than sin as he whispered against your clit, rolling his tongue. 

You looked down at him and his eyes snapped to yours. Eyes soft. Pretty ass eyelashes. He was perfect. Too perfect. Your body stopped flopping and you panted, huffed, as you came down. Terry slowed his tongue against your clit, flattening his tongue against and making you jerk. 

His heavy breaths fanned across your pussy and you moaned, writhing against him. “Fuck, Terry,” you said. 

Terry kissed your thighs, leaving a trail of wet kisses. He continued up to your belly, lifting your shirt with his head and he came up further. Your leg slid from his shoulder down to his  side, and wrapped around his leg as he stood up. 

He gripped your chin and pulled you into a kiss. You smelled and tasted yourself on him, your slick on his beard. You moaned, turning the kiss nasty as you played with each other’s tongues. 

Terry broke the kiss and smirked at you as he hooked his thumbs into your panties and tore them from your legs. 

“Hey!” You yelled, slapping his shoulder. Terry smirked, licked his lips, and stuffed the panties into your mouth. You smelled your arousal, your essence, and you moaned. 

“You like it,” he said with a shrug. 

You rolled your eyes, lifting your hand to pull your panties out. Terry snatched your wrist, pulling it above your head. Before you could lift the other, he snatched that one too. He kept both in one hand, and then stuffed your panties further into your mouth. 

“When you gon’ say yes and let me play in these guts whenever I want?” He asked.

You groaned and closed your eyes to the onslaught of pleasure. His voice found your off switch, making your brain fritz out over hearing his words. “Not now, Terry,” you said, voice muffled by the panties. 

You breathed harshly through your nose, rubbing yourself against him. He was so tall, so big, so thick. 

“Why not now?” Terry asked, nudging his nose against yours. He kissed the corners of your mouth, kissing your jaw below your ear, and then nibbling on your earlobe. 

He used his free hand to lift you on top of him and you wrapped your legs around his waist. His impressive bulge slotted between your legs and you moaned, rubbing yourself against him. Fuck, he made you needy. Wanton. Like you truly grew dumb, replaced with nothing but your baser instincts. To fuck. To grind. To toot your ass in the air and let him do whatever he wanted. Whatever he asked for. 

“What’s holding you back from me? From this? From fucking you in the morning, fucking you at night, in between meals when I need to get inside you. I know you feel this too,” he said. He moved his joggers down, exposing his huge dick. 

“Fuck,” you moaned, rubbing against him. Your pussy smacked as he tapped his tip against your pussy. 

“She nice and loud tonight,” he said. 

Your legs shook as Terry moved his dick through your folds, getting the tip of him wet before pushing in.

“Oh shit, shit, shit,” you moaned, throwing your head back against the wall. He was so big. “Fuck, fill me up, fill me up.” 

Terry groaned as he pushed inside, rolling his hips to sink inside. To bury his shaft deep and touch a that part inside. The part only he could touch. You tried going on dates with other guys. You tried convincing Terry and yourself that you were for the streets. Wasn’t no nigga gon’ play ‘round you no more. 

But they all fell short. They all were measured against Terry and were found lacking. Incomplete. With a look, Terry could have you whining and fucking yourself on him like a horny dog. 

“You could have this whenever you want,” he said. He began to stroke, proving that what came before were merely foreplay. He snapped his hips, pumped his arms and slammed you on his dick. 

You moaned and grunted on his dick, crying, shaking, gripping onto him for dear life. He was the only one capable of delivering this type of pleasure. He leaned down and buried his nose into your neck, absently kissing you. Licking the rapid pulse in your neck. 

“Terry, please, not-now,” you moaned. You didn’t know if he knew what you were saying considering the gag. Every inhale brought a fresh wave of your scent to your nostrils and you moaned. His moans mingled with yours, sliding more easily inside of you as your essence flooded his dick. 

“Say yes, baby, say yes. Say yes for me. Say yes for Daddy,” he said, snapping his hips faster.

He fucked you furiously against the wall, slamming inside of you while placing tender kisses against your neck. Under your ear. Moving along your jaw. He clamped his teeth down on your panties and pulled it from your mouth. He leaned down and kissed you. Kissing those sweet lips. Playing with his rough tongue. His mouth was a gift from God himself. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck. He moved his hands to your ass and smacked it, causing the sound to echo in your bedroom. “Oh fuck, Terry!” 

Terry smacked your ass again. “What you s’posed to call me?” He asked.

He dropped you against his dick, pouding against that deep spot inside of you. The pitch of your moans changed, turning higher and faster. Coming quicker than you can breathe. 

“There it is. But you gon’ have to earn this second nut,” he said.

You pushed feebly against his shoulders. Not to get rid of him but you needed some kind of release. Something to make the pressure pop. You forced yourself to breathe, to gulp in air. 

“Please, Daddy,” you moaned, turning wet, glistening eyes to him. 

A tear escaped your eye and Terry licked it off of your cheek. He purred, dick throbbing inside of you. 

“Be good for me and say yes. Say yes to getting dicked down every night. On demand,” he said.

“I can’t,” you moaned, shaking your head back and forth. 

He found a good rhythm, hitting your spot and making you moan every time he did it. Sweet, musical moans that sounded good even to your own ears. He was fucking you too well, had you clutching onto his neck. His thighs were like steel, effortlessly holding you and slapping against your ass. 

“Sure you can, you wanna cum, right? That’s why you opened the door for me? That’s why you’ll always open the door for me? ‘Cause you know I dig this shit out right. You know you can’t find another nigga ready to treat you like this. Give you what you need. What you crave. Like a good little fuckin’ slut,” he said.

He abruptly pulled out of you. “No!” You screamed. 

Terry chuckled as he carried you to the bed. He laid you down, pushing your shirt up enough for him to see your titties. 

He spread your legs wide and slid back inside you like he never left. He rutted inside you, increasing his pace now that he didn’t have to support your weight. He was relentless, moving his hand up to rub your clit.

Your thighs snapped shut, trapping his hand. “Open that shit back up. Now!” He barked.

You whimpered and whined as you fought against your body, opening your legs even though you wanted to stall him. Hold him off. “Move that hand before I move it for you,” he said.

You sniffled, hot all over and sweaty all over. You moved your hand, lowering it to the covers and grabbing a handful. “Fuck! Please, Daddy!” You moaned. 

Terry pushed your legs until they were practically at your chest. He slapped your ass a few times. Each slap was worse than the last, lighting your ass up like a Christmas tree. 

You yelled out, cried out, pleaded with him while he continued to smack your ass and dig in your guts. You felt him deep inside, throbbing, pulsing. 

“Please, give meeee,” you moaned. 

Terry chuckled. He flicked his thumb against your pussy, your slick making your pussy sound louder. Wetter. 

“Hear how she sings? You gon’ take this dick and still lie to my face?” He asked.

You shook your head. “Not-lie,” you huffed. Fuck, you were close. You were so close. You clutched at the covers, at the sheets, clawed at anything close by. 

“You want that shit, then you say the magic words. I’m tired of waitin’,” he said. 

You sniffled. Aw hell. There was no use fighting anymore. It was clear that Terry was the only one for you. He was the only one who knew exactly what to do, what to say. He was a man. All over. 

You leaned on your elbows and stared in his face. “Fuck me, Daddy, like I’m yours. ‘Cause I am,” you said. 

“You mine?” He asked, grinning wide and stealing your breath away. Fuck, he was so pretty. So beautiful. 

You nodded. “I’m yours,” you said.

“This pussy mine, too?” He asked. He pressed on your clit and you moaned loudly. You lifted your hips, needing him to do that shit again. He obliged, pressing on your throbbing clit. 

“Yes, Daddy, all yours,” you agreed. You’d agree to steal the moon for him if he would just let you cum. If he would grant his permission. 

“Good, then cum on this dick like a good slut,” he said. He kissed you, changing the angle of his hips and snapping against your sweet spot. You came instantly, legs shaking, pussy gripping him tightly.

“That’s it. Squeeze that fuckin’ dick,” he moaned against your lips. He palmed your tits, kneading, pinching your nipples and making you grip him even tighter. 

“Make me feel that,” he cooed as he thrust one more time and exploded inside you. His pulsing cum painted your walls white. 

Terry moaned, face falling into bliss as he came. He was even more beautiful like this. Undone. Unleashed. Untethered to that iron clad control of his. He scrunched his face up, like it felt too good. Too amazing.

“Ohh, good girl, good fuckin’ girl,” he moaned, kissing your forehead. You huffed, panting, sweating. Your skin turned clammy, the pressure gone from earlier. 

Your pussy squelched as Terry softened, pulling out of you. His cum gushed out, leaking down your ass and onto the bed. Terry kept your legs spread, watching as he leaked out of you. 

“Tomorrow night. Me and you. Date night. Then back here so I can fuck your brains out,” he huffed. He kissed your forehead and then pulled you into a sitting position. 

He caressed your chin and you fell forward, placing your forehead against his sculpted chest. “Yes, Daddy,” you said and kissed his belly.

“There’s my girl,” he said. 

There's more Terry! The Secret Terry Richmond Files

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[ixiot-ghostrebel]

So hey i hope you are doing well! But i got in a idea. You know that the creator is supposed to be at the top right? What if the creator had enough of their bullshit and the imposter hunt that they snap their fingers in a thanos style and removed their powers just like that. And the imposter look at the creator "Oh shit, I truly fucked up this time". Not only that when Ceslestia withness this they realized they are truly screwed.

Imagine as Reader did this they said "I Am Inevitable." like Thanos and that thing just ECHOES throughout the entirety of Teyvat.

Reader meant it for the jokes and then it actually became sacred words before the imposter literally dies LOL.

But let's be honest how many readers would pay (for free) to see the imposter get beat by the most famous last line from marvel?

Ghost Rebel Lives under a mountain of a rock, but anything to finally see the creator snap and finally get proper entertainment (read as: finally beating someone AGGRESSIVELY off their high horse because we all know they need it.)

[rebelwrites]

Hi so glad your back I’ve missed your writing. could I request a blurb for Charles with the three words

Children

Exhausted

Break

Thank you x

Honestly I have missed writing as well and it’s good to be back ❤️ I might actually take my pinned post down now

I could have kept going with this one 😂 had to really restrain myself. Hope you enjoy 🫶🏻

“Papa is home!” Charles’ voice echoed through your family home. The squealing that followed was ear piercing and was not helping your pounding head. Having 3 toddlers under five and one on the way meant the house was always chaotic.

“Baby, you look exhausted,” Charles hummed,

“Your children have been menaces to society today.”

“How about I draw you a bath then take over as circus master?” He hummed, wrapping his arms around your swollen stomach, “I’m home now so things won’t be as hectic and you get a break.”

“You are a bigger kid than the twins, Leclerc.”

[oceansssblue]

SW REQUESTS:

"Would love to see a Wolffe x reader fic where the AFAB reader is injured in battle, Comms him and then their Comms get jammed and he's just freaking the hell out. Love some angst of him carrying her back to a ship and losing his mind over it"

Some minor alterations but I'm SO HAPPY with how this one came out! I love wolffe and there aren't that many fics about him. Do recommend your favourites! Xx, sky.

"RADIO SILENT" –WOLFFE/F READER

WARNINGS: BATTLE, WOUNDS&BLOOD, ANGST AND FLUFF. 📩💔💖

Halsakaa is a nightmare. The Republic hasn't been able to redirect more forces to the Outer Rim planet to help you; and your troops are struggling to keep the droids battalions at bay. It honestly feels as though the Republic –and the Jedi– have abandoned you to your wrath; no-one coming to this remote location in the galaxy to save you. The destine of your own life, and the lifes of your soldiers, are solely in your hands. And you'd give everything for them, even sacrifice yourself if you have to. After so many experiences together, for almost three years straight now, they have becomed such an important part of you it feels as if you have ingrained every single one of them in your soul. You know you should'nt be so attached to them; Master Ploo quietly reminds you from time to time –though you know he's not exactly indifferent either–. The wolfpack is his own just as they are yours. Yours. Growing up as Jedi you haven't had this kind of... ownership over anything but your saber. Obviously, you don't see the clones as something you can posses, use; but they do belong to you in some sense, and in that way, it's your responsability to command them, to take care of them. And you... love them. It's a dangerous word for a Jedi. But it's the truth. It is the reason why, right now, your soul aches. Each death is a strike right to your heart. But how can you see them any different, when they are such loyal friends? Such fierce soldiers, who fight and die selflessly for the freedom of other citizens in the galaxy, a freedom that hadn't been given to themselves?

Your dark emerald green lightsaber flies in your hands, deflecting one bolt after the other one. Sweat makes your usually comfortable jedi robes stick to your body; minor scratches and wounds tingling painfully at the friction of the fabric. It doesn't make you move any slower, though; you feel unstopable jumping from a cluster of droids to another, the hum of your saber following you around while you slash through your enemies with persistent focus and skill. General Ploo is doing his own thing on the other side of the battlefield; your clone troops split in half to defend both sides of Halsakaa's capital.

You don't know how much longer you can hold this off. All of you have been trained for this, and you're used to drawing strength from the Force, increasing your usual endurance; but even you are feeling exhausted, muscles straining like painful cords, and the thing about the droids is that they never tire out. You know this has to end eventually. Right now, Master Ploo's orders are to hold on til some other battalion can come to your rescue –the other option abandoning Halsakaa to the separatists, which would cause a disastrous impact on the Republic–; though you don't know when that will be. It may be days, or weeks. A month, maybe two. Even with the system of rest-and-takeover you've got established with the clones you're afraid you're going to lose.

The night falls, and some troopers fall back into the delicate safety of the makeshift camp, a decent distant away from the battlefield; they'll try to shut the eye for some hours before replacing other brothers positions again. You keep fighting, completely exhausted but knowing perfectly well that your presence in the battlefield equals the force of ten clones; pushing through your energy limits and fiercely holding your own.

Hours pass, and the two suns of Halsaaka rises again; your tired eyes getting used to the new light while you keep slashing droids with your saber.

"We're pushing them further away from the South Door" Master Ploo's calm voice picks up through your coms. "I have been informed that the 442th have been dispatched in our way. They will join us in two sunrises".

You can't help but give a relieved sigh. The 104th have worked with the 442th more than once in the past. They are heavy infantry; and you wouldn't say no to some of that now. Any fresh soldier would be a welcomed addition. You can see the strain on your troopers; though none of them would dare say a word out loud.

"Copy that" you answer through your channel with your Master and the 104th's commander and sergeant. "I'll feel as happy as a kid with a popsicle when I see that green stripped armour along our light gray one".

You dodge a shot and use the Force to push a wave of droids to the side; your troopers quickly using the oportunity to blast them down.

Wolffe's deep husky voice pipes up in a tiny, well-humoured comment.

"Still a kid yourself, General" he teases you, voice still firm and contradictionally serious.

Your lips pull up on a tiny smirk.

"We can't all age in a blink of an eye, my dear Commander" you chirp back.

The coms pick up his raspy chuckle before the frequency goes back to silence.

The droids make way for something bigger and you groan under your breath. The first bolts make the earth beneath your feet shake slightly; orders and screams shouted all around you.

"Bad news, boys" you open the general coms this time so everyone gets updated in this very unwelcomed surprise. "We've got some spiders".

You focus yourself on them; flying through the battlefield and jumping on one droid after the other one, sinking your saber into their red sensors or cutting off their laser canions. Then, when you're in the middle of jumping off of one, a surprisingly well aimed bolt crosses the air and hits you; and you fall down with blood quickly soaking your side, staining the fabric of your Jedi clothes.

"Fuck" you mutter out loud, jaw clenching til your teeth hurt while you stand up quickly and deflect another bold with your saber, trying to cope with the pain. You open your private frequency with Sinker and quickly inform of your state.

"Sinker, I've been hit" you grit between your teeth while you kill the droid responsible for your wound and step back between your troopers to cover yourself momentarily.

You pull your clothes up and quickly glance down at the wound. Usually the bolts inmediately cauterizes the wounds; but this hadn't been a normal droid, but a combat-J1, with it's weapon specifically designed to make the most damage to human's skin without it's predecessors side-efects. The apparently less dangerous bolts are quite the opposite; dividing into smalller ones that diverts into different directions when hitting a surface with enough resistance. Right now, there's only one entrance wound on your right side; but you know they may have carved more than one path inside of you, making it a life or death situation depending on how lucky you are.

"How bad is it?" He asks, slowly but effectively advancing through the droid lines towards you, an easy person to locate with the shine of your emerald saber.

You grunt in pain, hand soaked in dark scarlet blood, and take a deep breath in, knowing what you need to do for now.

"Bad" you just answer, carefully lowering your own saber towards the wound "It's a shot from a J1. I'm going to cauterise the wound for now, but I might go into shock in the next hour. Just a heads up."

You chuckle weakly, and then carefully graze your lightsaber against the wound. The skin quickly hardens and clots; the smell of the burn quickly reaching your nose. Your knees buckle while you swallow your scream of pain; legs shaking weakly and tears springing to your eyes while you finish putting a momentarily solution to your wound. At least you won't die from blood loss for now.

"Maker, General" Sinker is suddenly there, taking a strong hold of your opposite hip to stabilize you. "That really doesn't look good. You should go back to camp, Sir".

You find solace in his strength for a minute before rightening yourself again and getting ready to move. You close your eyes and center yourself with the Force. You're hurt, but you're still in the middle of open fire; you need to swallow the pain and dizziness down and hold on.

You give Sinker a firm nod.

"I'm letting this side of the battlefield on your hands, then" you tell him, his own back inmediately straightening too under such responsability. "Just one more night and we'll have reinforcements with us tomorrow".

Sinker nods in understanding, appreciating your words of encouragement. He quickly orders Comet to help you get safely back to camp; while he inmediately takes the role of leader and commands your part of the 104th clone troops. You need to protect the North Door of Halsaaka while Master Ploo and Wolffe take care of the South.

One arm around Comet's shoulders and finding strength in the Force, you quickly start your dangerous way back to safety. Even though Comet's alert with his own blaster and you're still deflecting bolts with your saber, you're vulnerable now. You just hope you're both able to make it.

You open your coms to inform of the new situation.

"I've been hit with a J1" you warn Master Ploo and Wolffe. You don't like how weak your voice sounds. "Wolffe, I..."

There's a small explosion right beside you; and the force of it pushes both you and Comet to the ground. You whimper in pain, but quickly grab him and push the two of you back up, resume walking –more like stumbling forward–. You try the coms again, wanting to tell Wolffe you've left Sinker with command before retiring for the night; you grumble in irritation when you see your com device has detached from your forearm and has been left abandoned behind.

"Do you have your com?" You ask Comet.

His voice is barely audible under the protection of his helmet.

"My audio appears to be broken after that last fall, General."

You sigh, tired. There's nothing you can do about it now. Sinker will communicate with them sooner or later.

"Let's just make it back to safety then" you say, and Comet nods diligently.

You'll just focus on not collapsing to the ground before reaching camp.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Wolffe's heart stutters inside his chest when he hears your voice in the coms. You're always strong, always fierce; something he had admired from the very first time he had had the chance to work under your command. He had been cold towards you back then; not purposedly harsh against you, but not friendly either. You hadn't cared. When one of his men had pointed out to you it wasn't personal, but just Wolffe's reserved, unpolished personality, you had answered unbothered and completely understanding. He could still hear those words in his head; "I get it. I'm a stranger that holds the lifes of his brothers in her hands. None of you know me yet; trust is earned. I hope I will with time. I'd like us all to be comfortable with each othef. But if not, it doesn't matter. I'm not here to make friends. I'm here to fight. I'm here to protect people; and I'm here to direct my assigned troops as best as I can in order to achieve the best results with the minor number of casualties. If Commander Wolffe opens up to me I'd be honored. If not, I'm sure we could still be good comrades in this war". He still remembers the way you had tilted your chin upwards; staring defiantly at the clones in front of her, completely unaware of him standing not so far away at her back. "Now, I believe there's still some preparations needed for Jaal; and we're taking off in an hour". With that not-so-subtle signal that the conversation had ended, the troopers around you had quickly fell back to place; and Wolffe had silently followed Master Ploo Koo towards you. "Look at you, little warrior" the older Jedi had told you, a pleasant smile wrinkling the corner of his covered eyes. "Already displaying such good lidership traits". You had turned around in surprise; so many life presences around you, and experiencing a rush of your own emotions, you hadn't been aware of both of their presence. Your cheeks had flushed slightly; though that same defiant glint hadn't left your eyes. "Master" you had slightly bowed towards him. "You see me with good eyes" you had smiled softly at him, in a clearly opened affectionate way Wolffe wasn't used to seing in other Jedi. "Just having a chat with the troops". Master Ploo had chuckled quietly and pointed at him with a hand gesture; Wolffe quickly taking a step forwards towards them. "I have just had a quick meeting with the Council. Commander Wolffe will update you on my behalf, as I need to go have a word with the pilots" Master Ploo had glanced back at him pointedly. "If he'd be kind enough...". Wolffe had inmediately nodded, firmly. He had high respect towards that specifical Jedi; and he didn't usually hold others in such high regards. "Of course, sir" he had then turned towards you. "General, if you can follow me to the strategy room...". You had firmly hold his stare for a few seconds; and the quiet inquisitive gaze had felt as if the young Jedi Warrior had scanned his own very soul. Wolffe had had his first tingle of that uncomfortable but curious feeling back then; a feeling that had only increased with the following years. Nowadays, he...

Wolffe cleared his thoughts and focused on battle. Your voice had sound weak and tired, but you were perfectly capable of holding yourself, and this wasn't the first time you had been hurt before. He had actually patched you more than once in the past and... And then you mentioned a J1, and whispered his name, and there was a loud ringing sound through the coms that sounded too close to an explosion for his comfort and... And the sounds died, leaving nothing more than radio silence. And Wolffe, going against everything he had learnt and was trained for, pannicked.

"General?" His frantic, afraid voice was enough for Master Ploo to focus his attention on him, a graze at his Force life enough to make him understand his commander's feelings. "General. Come on. Com in, kid..."

There was only static.

Wolffe's heart pumped faster, adrenaline shooting through his veins. His hands trembled. A knot formed in his throat, slowly chocking his voice. He never broke down. He never broke down, but...

"Cyar'ika" he begged in a whisper. "Please, please answer and tell me you're okay".

He still got no answer back from you, and he felt his soul hurt.

Master Plo's hand suddenly renched him back into reality; a comforting wave of what could only be his Force washing over him. Wolffe turned his face towards him. The Jedi watched him in understanding.

"I can feel your turmoil. It is such it's difficult for me to focus on anything else. You are in no state to stay in the battlefield" he told him, cautiously gentle. "If my padawan has been gravely injured someone has probably helped her return to camp. You must go and make sure she's okay".

Even if Wolffe wanted nothing more than to start of a run and find her, he still hesitated in front of his General. He was a soldier. A commander. He couldn't leave his place just because he had stupidly, oh so fucking stupidly, fallen in love with her...

Master Plo squeezed his shoulders once. He knew him so well.

"Go" he insisted. "That's an order".

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Wolffe quickly wrenched the flimsi excuse of a door of the tent open. He had gone to the makeshift infirmary first; his doctor quickly informing him of the state of his Jedi, and where he could find her resting at the moment. "A dangerous wound, but surprisingly stable" he had told him while he took care of the wound of a fellow brother. "She's a tough one, our General. It was a good idea to use her own lightsaber as a cauterizer. She wouldn't have probably made it all the way back here otherwise". That probability had made Wolffe tremble.

His own eyes quickly scanned the Jedi's state now. She was laying down on a rucksack, unusually clad in just a sport top and his Jedi pant's; outer robes discarded and clean bandages effectively wrapping around her lower torso, with just a small amout of blood transpairing on her side. Her lightsaber had been carefully placed at her side. Her hair was untied and a mess; some sticking to her dirtied face and some falling around freely behind her. Despite her evident exhaustion, Wolffe hand't ever been so happy to see her.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"Commander?" You asked in a surprised voice, slowly and carefully propelling some of your weight in your elbows in order to see him better. "Shouldn't you be back on the battlefield?"

Your face quickly changes into a deep, worried frown as you scan him up and down quickly.

"Are you hurt too, Wolffe?"

His heart clenches again. He steps inside the tent, slowly falling down on his knees besides you, and closes the door.

"No" he simply answers, observing you quietly.

You're completely lost. He's looking at you in a different way. He... Feels different, in the Force. Usually he feels much more reserved, almost as if he had learnt how to shield his emotions from a Jedi; however this... This felt raw.

"I'm afraid I don't understand" you chuckle and then wince at the way the movement tugs at your wound, a bit nervously now. You pointedly look at him. "You wouldn't be here just because you got worried, right?"

Wolffe's expression doesn't change.

"You went radio silent" he answers, quietly.

You arch an eyebrow.

"Our coms died" you explain, still confused about his attitude.

Wolffe can't help himself. He reaches forward and carefully grasps your chin in his right hand; eyes boring into yours. You gasp in surprise and can't do anything else but stare at his breathetaking mismatched eyes in response; emotions inside of you swirling dangerously with his move.

"You were hurt" he enfasises, almost as if he's trying to tell you something else, something you're not quite understanding. "You were hurt, and you went radio silent".

Oh. Oh. He thought you might be... You might have...

"Oh, Wolffe" his name is an understanding, affectionate sigh on your tempting lips. "I'm okay".

He doesn't want empathy. Doesn't want that almost condescending type of comfort. He needs to make sure you're still here; with him. He needs to exteriorize all this raw, painful emotions he has been keeping hidden for so fucking long, and he wants you so fucking bad it makes his mind and soul burn...

He bends down over you, holding himself against one hand proped against the floor while the other one tugs your neck forward, and then he's kissing you –fiercely, dominantly, real–; he kisses the same way he fights and a surprised but delighted whimper of a moan can't help but escape from your lips, hands quickly clinging onto his shoulders desperately.

You... You hadn't thought you'd end up having this. With you being a Jedi and him being such a perfect, respected clone Commander, you had always brushed your wants aside and...

"Wolffe" you whisper, trembling inevitably when his plush warm mouth moves from your lips to the side of your neck, biting gently. "Wolffe, I...".

He breathes and looks up at your face again; cupping your cheek with his right hand and observing your reaction with his eyes shimmering in needs and desire.

His Force signature blasts. He loves you. He loves you, and you...

"Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum" you whisper, risking it all and giving your heart to him.

Tears blur your sight. They're not sad tears; they're not happy either. They're a mix of emotions that make you feel like a mess and...

Wolffe sighs. You love him. You love him, and the fact that you've told him in Mando'a...

He closes his eyes and gently presses his forehead against yours; finding solace and peace in your embrace, in this Keldabe. His eyes then flutter open, and he holds your face in both of his hands, slowly joining your lips in a kiss much more sweet and unhurried than those from before. You hum, surrendering in complete bliss.

He caresses your smuged cheek with his thumb, taking some of the dirt and exhaustion of the battlefield away.

His voice is a secret whisper as well.

"Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum, cyare".

Your fingers tug at the hair at the back of his neck, and you crash your lips onto his.

You imprint those five mandalorian words in your soul.

THE END.

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This one was a blast to write! Felt the emotions so raw myself tooo bfbfbsfb this two are so cute. I hope I get to write more of Wolffe in the future, I really like the guy.

Did some minor alterations –like him not been the one to actually carry you back to safety– but it kinda wrote itself and I'm happy with how it came out. Hope you liked it as well!

Also, dear friends, if you ever want to request something longer than a one-shot, you're able to do so as well (if the plot goes accordingly or I find it expandable). I'm not writing whole stories, but a short one of maybe 2-5 chapters max would be okay.

Stay tunned for the next one yall. It will be a little angsty one with Echo, and then we'll have a flirty fun one with Crosshair.

Xx,

Sky.

Back to main masterlist here!

[candyfloss5000]

TBB S3 RANT (tw: opinions 😱)

Bitches be like "bringing Tech back would've made his sacrifice insignificant-" YOU WANNA KNOW WHAT MADE HIS SACRIFICE INSIGNIFICANT?! HOW THE WRITER'S JUST IGNORED HIS ENTIRE CHARACTER THIS SEASON, IGNORED OTHER CHARACTERS' GRIEF AND JUST ACTED LIKE HE NEVER EXISTED!! The lack of Tech mentions other than his name being said or a scene with his goggles made it feel like his sacrifice added nothing to the story. And that one line from Echo where it's like "hacking into this thing is gonna be difficult...especially without Tech" and that one scene where they use Tech's datapad to bring up information on Ventress just made it seem like the characters only valued Tech for his skill and not him as a person. This isn't me being petty about CX-2 not being Tech or just Tech not being brought back in general the way they handled his character this season was genuinely awful. Ik the writers said that they always planned for there to only be three seasons of the bad batch but the way that they crammed so much into this season and hardly focused on character personality, arcs and plotlines makes me doubt that. The lack of emotions from the characters throughout this season was extremely weird. I dont just mean their reaction towards tech, I mean their reaction to literally anything was boring. The most emotion we got this entire season was in episode five.

The first three episodes of season 3 are perfectly fine and arguably well paced. But as soon as it gets to episode 4, its slowed down. 5, 6, 7 are perfectly fine. 8 and 9 should've been merged into one episode. Especially since the whole "is omega force sensitive?!" is proven to be false and evidently leads no where. 10 is fine, not really needed but fine. 11 is perfect. 12 way too drawn out and literally nothing happens. I can't even remember what happens in 13. 14 is a great build up to the finale. The finale is great, but some things definitely need tweaking.