The Tortured Poets Department

The Tortured Poets Department

Multi-fandom fic based on the TTPD album!! I’ll add tags as I go and I’ll add a little description for each one under the link here ❤️

Down Bad

Wolverine x You

Short one shot, smut

You meet a mysterious man called Logan in a bar, and end up having some fun…

1,255 words

Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me?

Charles Xavier x Erik Lehnsherr x You

Longer one shot, smut and a little fluff, threesome

After joining the First Class of Professor X’s school with your brother Hank, you realised you have a connection with two of the mutants there, and that they might also have a connection to each other…

6,258 words

Florida!!!

Aaron Hotchner x You

Longer one shot, smut, a little fluff, and a little angst

After a tough case in Tallahassee, a storm blows in and the jet is grounded, so you find comfort in the arms of someone unexpected.

4,203 words

My Boy Only Breaks His Favourite Toys

Billy Butcher

Short one shot, smut

Your occasional fling sees you in a dress you had put on to tease him, and he reminds you who you belong to.

1,385 words

Fortnight

Mando/Din Djarin

Longer one shot, smut

After being employed by Greef to transport you back to your home planet, Mando comes back from one of his bounty hunts beaten and bloody, and you’re forced to get closer than you expected to the man made from metal.

5,539 words

Kinktober Day 7: Secret Relationship

Spencer Reid x you

Contents: fem!reader x Spencer Reid (Criminal Minds), oral sex fem receiving, flashbacks, ooey gooey feelings

W/C: 3.2k

Ok so I’m behind again, oops, but I’m proud of this one! Again, not the kinkiest but I got carried away with the fluff and I also got into a cipher-related rabbit hole so I hope you enjoy regardless :))

PS: This is also a love letter to pre-boyband hair season 5 Spencer, AKA my favourite hair era, as depicted below

Kinktober Masterlist | General Masterlist | AO3

“Do you want to grab some coffee?” A voice whispered beside you, a touch too close to be just colleagues. You smiled uncontrollably, heart rate picking up as his hand brushed across your back.

“Sounds good.”

That’s how you found yourself pressed against the door of the copy room, Spencer’s lips on yours, his hand up your skirt.

“We’ve got time, baby…” He practically whined between kisses, bucking his hips into yours.

“Spence! We have…“ you checked you watch absentmindedly, “5 minutes until briefing.” He grinned.

“I take that as a challenge…”

His head started to dip, moving to kneel down, but you grabbed his hair with a fake gasp of disbelief, pulling him back up to his usual height, looming over you.

“Oh honey, I don’t doubt you could, but I’m not sure these walls are soundproof.” Your fingers moved to his cheek, and he sighed into your lips, his hands returning to your waist and squeezing.

“But you left so early this morning, I didn't have time to start your day right…” You were grinning ear to ear, noses bumping into each other clumsily, and you whimpered into his mouth as his teeth grazed your bottom lip.

“I know, I know, I’ll make it up to you later, I promise…” You kissed him one last time with finality, pushing off the door and smoothing your skirt, but he was slightly less keen to leave, pressing himself against your hip as he helped straighten your hair and lip gloss. “I should probably leave first. You clearly need a minute.” He huffed behind you, but you had already slipped out of the room, heading into the bullpen as if nothing had happened.

You’d had a crush on him for a long time before anything happened. You joined the team a couple of years ago as a linguistics and code-breaking expert - something that was surprisingly helpful in the cases the BAU took on. You’d harboured years of butterflies, coy glances, occasional hand grazes… and you thought you’d done a pretty good job at hiding it. You’d known it was unrequited - he never so much as looked in your direction unless he was asking your opinion on something he was working on. It was starting to get to you. Your feelings had slowly been growing, swelling in your chest as you watched from afar, to the point where you had considered transferring departments. And then it all changed.

It was a case in California; a serial killer who was carving encrypted messages into his victims posthumously, only you had no idea what cipher he had used. You and Spencer had been working tirelessly for days to crack it while the rest of the team were searching for physical evidence, and it was a distraction you were grateful for. Even though you were working alone with him in close quarters, it was one of the few times you could briefly forget about your feelings, too consumed with your work to allow yourself to think about him.

It was night 3 of sleeping at the station. JJ had predicted it was going to happen, moving your go bags from the hotel to the precinct on the first day, and you and Spencer had been taking turns napping on the small couch whenever you physically couldn't keep your eyes open. You were sleep deprived and strung out, but you were close. You could feel it. You knew it wasn’t a shift cipher or some kind of alternate alphabet converted back and forth - you had exhausted every possibility of that days ago. You had been testing more complex ciphers, Garcia running everything imaginable through software to attempt to decipher it, but with no luck.

“What haven’t we tried?” Spencer muttered, pacing the room after a last ditch attempt at some kind of converted polybius square. Garcia was on speaker, confirming that she had tried every option available to her twice over.

“I mean, at this point, it could only be some kind of complex Vigenère cipher that somehow hasn’t been deciphered through Garcia’s software, or…” You didn’t even want to say the other option aloud - just the thought that three days work would’ve been completely wasted sent a shiver through your body.

“Or it’s a one-time pad.” Spencer said what you were too scared to, collapsing on the sofa with a sigh.

“A one-time pad? Is that the…”

“Unbreakable cipher. Yeah.” He confirmed.

“Unless…” A thought struck you, and you stood to the whiteboard you had set up in the room, scribbling down the ciphertext from the first body and converting it to numbers. “We need to think about this from the unsub’s point of view. He wouldn’t use a true OTP because if he truly wanted to hide this code, he wouldn’t carve it on his victims. But, the key might not be random.”

“Yeah, but then it would’ve been picked up on Garcia’s systems…”

“Not if each body had a different key….” You had written and converted the next two bodies’ codes while you were speaking, and you stood back briefly, showing Spencer what you had written. “We’ve been collating the messages and running them as a whole, but…do you see a pattern?” He paused, eyes scanning over the board frantically, and then he calmed visibly, a wave of realisation hitting his features. You smiled as he saw what you did, standing quickly and grabbing another pen to scrawl the keys beneath each.

“The Bible.” He whispered. “A Vigenère is hardest to break if the key is as long as the plaintext. Seven letters. Six letters. Nine letters. Genesis. Exodus. Leviticus.”

“It might work.” He nodded, brow furrowed in thought as he stared at the lettering.

“Let’s try it.” He wrote the corresponding letters as you did the sums, converting them back to the alphabet and - to your shock and relief - it was making sense.

P. L. E. A. S. E. H. …

E. L. P. M. E. I. …

C. A. N. T. S. T. O. P. J. …

“Garcia, can you read the last body please? The one we don’t have photos for yet…”

“No need.” Spencer muttered, writing it down without glancing up. You forgot how immaculate his memory was sometimes.

“Thank you.” It was seven letters. Perfect. You wrote numbers, he converted, you did the sum and muttered the letters aloud…

A. M. E. S. T. O. L.

“James. James ‘tol’? Is that a name, or the start of one?” Garcia asked over the speaker, but Spencer wasn’t listening, muttering to himself as he moved to the files quickly, flipping through them.

“No, I…” You answered for him, “I think Spence is onto something Pen…”

“Get Hotch on the line.” He barked, finding what he was looking for and bringing it to you.

“Hotch here…” A tired voice rung out in the small room just as you realised what Spencer was showing you, a gasp escaping your lips.

“It was David.” He breathed immediately, his words tumbling out at a breakneck speed. “The message on the bodies said something about James followed by T-O-L, and that reminded me of your interview…”

“David kept referring to a colleague throughout the interview, a James, that ordered him around a lot…”

“If he kills again, I bet the phrase would be completed. James told me to, maybe?” You mused, and Spencer nodded.

“Garcia, have you got his file.”

“Yes, I’m opening it now and… oh my god.”

“What is it?”

“He had a brother called James. Hung himself when David was 11.”

“And all of his victims died from strangulation.” The pieces had fallen perfectly into place.

“Address?”

The unsub’s home had been closer to the hotel, so Hotch and the rest of the team went to his listed address, leaving you and Spencer to wait nervously in the precinct. You were pacing frantically, knotting your hands as the sound of your heavy boots echoed throughout the room. Spencer cooed your name calmly, and you turned to him, blushing lightly. He was sitting on the edge of the sofa, leant forwards with his arms on his knees looking up at you with… a look you’d never seen before. Concern mixed with something else, something foreign to you. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced with a kind smile.

“Just sit for a minute. Try and relax.” You nodded weakly, perching on the edge and trying to still your racing heart, leg bouncing and hands still twisting in each other with nervous energy.

“Sorry, I… I know we’ve done our bit now but I hate not being there when the team are apprehending him…”

“I know what you mean,” he muttered. You sat in silence for a few minutes, mind racing with what might be happening. What if he was armed? What if he’d decided to shoot his way out? They could all be dead right now, and you would have no idea….

Spencer’s phone rang. He stood, answering it quickly. It was Emily, and you heard him mutter a few affirmatives, smile playing across his features.

“Did they…” You asked as soon as he hung up, and he nodded.

“Yep, it went perfectly. He’s in custody, and they’re on their way back now.” The relief you felt was palpable, a sigh falling from you as he sat back down on the sofa next to you, sinking into it and resting his head back, mirroring your position.

You hadn’t realised your leg was still bouncing until his hand fell to it. Your breath caught in your throat as he squeezed lightly, stilling you effortlessly. He was so warm, slender fingers fanned out across the space just above your knee, and it took a moment for you to compose yourself. You turned your head, and he was already gazing at you, the mysterious expression from earlier back, his dark eyes meeting yours with warmth.

“You were incredible today…” He muttered, hand still resting on his leg, and you couldn’t help but blush. He was the most intelligent person you knew, and likely would ever know, and even without your feelings being involved, a complement from him was about the highest praise a person could get in your line of work.

“Thank you, but I couldn’t have done it without you…”

“Bullshit.” He whispered, and you laughed.

“Ok, maybe I could’ve, but it would’ve taken me twice as long.” He chuckled then, eyes scanning over your face with an intensity you only saw when he was trying to analyse something. It felt as though his eyes were boring into your skin, and you had to look away, heart near beating out of your chest. His hand shifted slightly on your leg, and oh sweet Jesus you just remembered it was still there. It had a strange affect on you - like when you put a harness on a cat and they suddenly couldn’t walk. You were frozen solid, trying to breath and staring at the ceiling.

Then his hand touched your chin. It was light, delicate, just guiding your eyes back to his and it wasn’t until that moment you finally realised what that look had been, the one you couldn’t identify. It was a reflection of what you had been feeling for months. The longing, the restraint, the need that swirled up inside you every time you stole a glance at him, and now, seeing those same emotions in his soft eyes, it was sobering. He wanted you too.

He moved first, gently pulling your lips to his and kissing you, light as a feather. It was tentative and sweet, so unsure and your body took a second to process that the thing you had been imagining for years was actually happening. And then you smiled, hands moving to the base of his neck, fingers twisting into his gorgeous hair and you pulled him back to you, lips clashing in a kiss full of years of pent up desire and desperation. You felt his body relax under your touch as the kiss deepened, his hands wandering to trail your waist and hips, before tangling in your hair and holding tight, pulling you closer. You had twisted until you were practically on his lap, hands falling to his shirt and bunching it up as his tongue finally hit yours, every bone in your body turning to jelly as you tasted him. It was magnetic, everything you had wanted for a long time finally coming to fruition and you couldn’t even break away for a second of air, so lost in him that breathing was no longer important.

And then the Precinct door banged open, and you jumped away as though you had been electrocuted. You laughed, cursing quietly as you tried to smooth your hair, tousled from his hands, while he just smiled, gazing at you.

“Spencer!” You whisper-shouted at him, still grinning uncontrollably, and he finally moved, straightening his shirt and placing his jacket over his lap. You giggled like a school girl, standing and moving to the whiteboard to try and convey a more believable working situation, and to put some distance between you and him, not sure how well you’d be able to hide your smile if he was so close to you.

You still jumped when Rossi opened the door to the room, although, you were more surprised when he didn’t speak. You turned to him, confused, and he pointed at Spencer. When you followed his eye line, you realised he was pretending to sleep, head slouched to one side and mouth slightly parted. He looked beautiful.

It had been six months, and you were stronger than ever. You honestly weren't sure how you were still keeping it a secret. You had had years of practice when you were just pining after him, sure, but it was a hell of a lot harder to not give anything away when every time you looked at him, you got flashbacks to the night before. Even if the team somehow did suss out a vibe, no one said anything, which was something you were grateful for. Spence was a lot better than you at masking his feelings, so anyone who noticed something probably assumed you just had a crush on him. Which was true enough.

You had managed to avoid looking at him the entire briefing, which was honestly a miracle, but your mind was ever so slightly distracted by your rendezvous in the copy room. As JJ spoke, you heard something about male victims, and she might have mentioned Tennessee, but all you could think about was that travel meant your date night plans were cancelled. And you were always cautious in hotels - too close to your other colleagues. It was hit or miss; sometimes, the fear of it was fun, the idea that someone could knock and catch you in the act, but if you had adjoining rooms with any of your teammates… well, them hearing you scream his name might just be a bit awkward. So, naturally, all you could think about now was finishing what you started earlier. You wanted this meeting to be over, to get him somewhere private and to let him completely wreck you before the long plane ride, to get this idea out of your head so you could focus on the case at hand. And then, at last, came the magic words…

“Wheels up in 20.”

The team dispersed quickly, and you caught Spencer’s sleeve just before he left the room.

“My car?” You muttered, earning a grin.

“Change your mind, baby?”

“Shut up.” You smiled. “I’ll meet you down there…”

“What’re you doing?” You practically whimpered, as he opened the passenger door instead of joining you in the backseat. He chuckled.

“Just making space.” You were about to ask what for, when he deftly moved the seat forwards, before getting in the back. Oh. You grinned as he pressed his lips to yours with hunger, backing you into the corner and you let yourself be dwarfed by him. His fingers trailed your collarbone, to your waist, and gripping onto your thigh with urgency. You whined as his lips left yours, earning another soft laugh. He managed to fit his tall frame mostly in the footwell, pushing your skirt up to your hips as you bit your lip, admiring him. He was so beautiful, the way his hair fell over his face, his earnest eyes, almost pleading in the way he looked up at you, his long fingers that so deftly moved your panties to one side.

“Can you…” he muttered gesturing to his hair, and you giggled, hand running through the front locks and holding them away from his face. Your leg draped over his back as his head dipped, tongue going straight to your folds, lips circling your core and kissing your sensitive bud with a hum of contentment. Your body relaxed into him, moan escaping your lips. He’d always been enthusiastic about eating you out, and you’d never complained about it. He was good. Really good. And today was no different.

He was lapping you up, relishing every taste and you were getting closer to your orgasm with every circle around your clit, cunt clenching around nothing.

“Spence…” you managed to gasp out, writhing in the seat, “fingers…” He didn’t hesitate for a second, one of the hands firmly holding your thighs apart trailed down to your centre, two fingers slipping into your soaking core. Your groan was filthy as he found that spot that made your toes curl with such perfect precision it was blinding.

“Oh god Spencer…” you choked out between moans and pants… “baby I’m so close…” Your hands tightened in his hair, pulling him closer, and he groaned into you, sending a wave of pleasure through you that sent you over the edge into that searing hot pleasure you were so used to receiving from him. He held onto you as you rode it out, his tongue still circling you until you were finished, finally stopping when you started to whine and squirm from overstimulation.

“Fucking hell, Spence.” You muttered, as he gently returned your panties and carefully let your skirt fall back around you. You watched in awe as he quickly licked his fingers clean, but it was mostly pointless, as his lips and chin were covered in your slick. You giggled.

“You might have to rinse your face before you join the team.” He grinned, pressing his lips to yours with force, and you could taste yourself on his tongue, making you hum into him.

“Now you will too.”

After a quick clean-up in the parking lot toilets, you both joined the rest of the team, entrances tactically staggered. For once, you couldn’t help but look at him, stealing glances as much as possible, watching as his hands scanned pages as he read and all you could think about is what those hands were doing to you just minutes earlier.

When you started looking into the case, you would be focussed, fully invested, but… you just wanted to stay in this headspace a moment longer. A happy one. A scary one still, for sure, but a fun kind of scary. A hopeful kind of scary. It was peaceful. And peaceful moments were rare in your line of work. His eyes caught yours, sending you a soft smile, and you knew you were in for the long haul, no matter how many people you had to lie or, or how much time you had to hide it for. It was all worth it for the moments of peace with him.

Taglist 🩵 - @emma-e-a

duality of a jojamart employee

TTPD Contents

Down Bad

Wolverine/Logan x Reader You meet a mysterious man called Logan in a bar, and end up having some fun… fem!reader, 18+ MDNI 1255 words

You couldn’t even make it to the bed. It was pathetic really - the desperation you felt for a man you had met in the bar only a couple of hours ago. But there was something about him. A gravitas. A magnetic pull that made you breathy and needy, both your shirt and his off before the door was even closed.

“You don’t get a lot of girls starting conversations in bars, bub.” He muttered, the first crack of a smile appearing. He had the kind of face that looked serious, almost aggressive in some lights, but when he started to smile, you knew it would suit him, a hint of mischief setting in. He was tall and toned, a fact you could see regardless of the oversized plaid shirt he wore, and just so incredibly attractive in a rugged way. Just your type. You were never one to talk to a stranger, but you just couldn’t stop yourself. And you weren’t sure why. You said as much to him with a shrug, which earned a chuckle.

“I guess I can’t argue with that.”

And now you were here, your body pressed firmly against your kitchen counter, his hands tangled in your hair as he kissed you deeply, hungrily. A need that matched your own. He somehow pressed even further into you, back painfully biting into the hard material, and you whined, the pain mixed with the headiness of his mouth on yours making you more turned on than you thought possible. His hands trailed to your thighs, gripping you tightly and lifting one leg to wrap around him, grinding himself into your core with a noise that could only be considered a growl, low and reverberating. Feral.

His lips didn’t leave yours as he spun you round, your tangled bodies colliding with your dining table. He broke to breathe for a short moment, hands falling to your jeans as you panted, trying to catch your breath too. God, he looked hot like this. Bare chest heaving, brow adorned with a small trace of sweat, eyes wild and frantic. And you had been right when you saw him at the bar - he was incredibly toned, almost as though his muscles had been carved out of marble. You couldn’t help but run your hands over him, the ridges of his abs, his unruly chest hair, down to his jeans, where you swiftly undid the fly and button, allowing him to step out of them as you did the same. And then you were back on each other, an aggressive kiss that knocked the wind out of you, one that consisted of biting his lip and his tongue working its way deep into your mouth. There was now very little between your aching core and the tent in his boxers, two thin layers of measly fabric, and you rubbed up against him, desperately trying to get some friction. You broke away again, needing a breath even though you didn’t want it, not if it meant leaving the taste of his mouth, whiskey and cigars.

“Fuck, Logan.” You barely managed to whine the words, a pathetic noise as he kissed your neck, then quickly deciding to bite down, your whine turning into a guttural groan. “I need you…”

“Fucking hell, baby, get those off please…” You didn’t hesitate, pulling down your panties and kicking them off quickly. He followed suit, pulling down the waistband of his boxers and allowing his cock to spring free, fully hard and magnificent. You instantly pulled him closer, needing him inside you, and he lined himself up, his hands falling to your hips and gripping hard, painfully so. A moan escaped your lips, a pitiful one, almost like a beg, and he grinned.

“You want something?” He muttered, voice low and husky, and you sighed.

“Shut the fuck up.” You whispered back, hands moving down his back and pulling him into you. He growled, a noise so raw and desperate it sent shivers down your spine. He was big, so big it completely winded you, but before you even got a chance to get accustomed to his size, he had bottomed out. You whimpered - the only noise you could manage with no air in your lungs - and he pulled out, slamming back into you with a force that made your eyes roll back into your head. Your hands found their way to his back, desperate for something to hold onto, sinking your nails into him. He felt so good that you could cry, each thrust taking you closer to the edge so quickly. You couldn’t do much but moan his name along with a string of expletives, and you let one of your hands fall from his back round to your clit. You barely needed it; the angle where you were perched on the table allowing him to hit that spot deep inside you that made your vision go blurry. You felt one of his hands trace up your body, over your stomach, the lacy fabric of your bra, up to your neck. His hand wrapped around it, giving it a gentle squeeze, testing the waters. You fluttered around him involuntarily, a soft whine escaping you, and he grinned. Then you could barely breathe.

You ground down into him as you gasped in tiny breaths shakily, his hand like a vice. It was starting to make you lightheaded, that divine feeling you often chased, and you knew you were getting close.

“There you go…” he whispered in your ear, squeezing slightly tighter. Your hands moved to his hair, lacing into it and pulling as he groaned loudly. “That’s it, baby, cum for me.” You were close, so close, and then it was on you like a wildfire, body going rigid and cunt clamping down around him as pleasure overtook you, a loud moan of relief leaving your body as he released his hand from your neck, allowing the blood and breath to rush back into your head and adding a blissful giddiness to the already overwhelming ecstasy your orgasm. He continued to fuck you through it, his hands and teeth finding different places to grip onto you with every thrust, and it wasn’t long before he was there too, pressing his hips deep inside you and cumming, his hot seed filling you as you rode out the final waves of your pleasure together.

He stayed inside you and lifted you up by your ass, cradling your boneless frame before placing you one your bed. He handed you some tissues, saying he was going to clean up, and you thanked him, breathing still ragged and body not quite cooperating with what you wanted it to do, so fucked out you had no energy left. He paused, a grin spreading across his face as he looked down at you, eyes taking over your body.

“What?” You managed to whisper, smiling shyly.

“I just… God you look so pretty like that, Bub. Makes me want to do something…” he paused, changing his mind, then walking to the bathroom, leaving the thought unfinished. You just smiled. The night wasn’t over yet.

Day 8 - Forbidden Relationship

Obi Wan Kenobi x you

Contents: smut/drabble, fem!reader x episode 2 Obi Wan, corruption kink

W/C: ~600

Soooo I’m so behind but I swear to you I will post all of these chapters!! It just might be a little late. The next few should be faster though - with some of the more ‘vanilla’ prompts on my list I feel like I have to write more background to make it worth the read, but the kinkier ones are just going to get straight into it lol

Kinktober Masterlist | General Masterlist | AO3

“I shouldn’t be doing this…” He muttered into your neck, and your walls fluttered around him in response. He said it every time, and yet, here he was. There was just something arousing about knowing your pussy is so fucking good it had a Jedi crawling back for more, breaking his covenant over and over just so he can fuck you.

The first time was intoxicating. You knew that he was a virgin - it wasn’t hard to tell - and you were apprehensive, but it didn’t matter that it didn’t last long, or that you didn’t orgasm… The power you felt. The control. Getting to coax him through it, seeing his face when he first pressed himself deep into your velvet core, knowing that you were corrupting a Jedi knight... It was like nothing you had ever experienced.

The second time, he couldn’t keep his hands off you. He was needy and desperate, lips and fingertips ghosting across every inch of your skin like a man starved. A man who had been deprived of pleasure for so long and now, he couldn’t help but indulge.

The third time, you went down on him. Took your time, letting your tongue run up and down his shaft, swirling around his head and smearing his precum gently before you took him completely into your mouth. He was a mess by the time you finally obliged his whines, his tip hitting the back of your throat with a moan from you. The look of pure pleasure and surprise on his face when you swallowed every last drop of his load as he came down your throat.

“But it feels so gooood, doesn't it?” You drawled, and he groaned pitifully. You’d lost count of the amount of times he’d promised it would never happen again, that he needed to stop, and yet here he was, buried to the hilt inside you. It was only recently that he’d realised you didn’t derive the same kind of pleasure as he did from your hookups, and he practically begged you to teach him how to help you out. You weren’t exactly going to say no to that. So you showed him how you touched yourself. Made him watched as you reached a climax.

The way he blushed afterwards… You loved the way it made you feel. His innocence. And how easily you could break it.

And now, his hand delved towards your folds, and you moaned as his thumb brushed across your sensitive clit, hips bucking as he continued to rut into you.

“Right there, baby…” you whispered, kissing his neck lightly and twisting your fingers into his hair. “Stars that’s perfect, keep going…” He groaned and sunk his teeth into your bare breath, beard scratching the delicate skin.

“That’s it… oh yes that’s it…” he whispered as you came around his cock, whining his name and his own orgasm followed not long after.

As he lay on top of you, breaths heavy, you thought about how this is normally when he’d say it had been a mistake, when he’d leave and apologise and swear up and down that’s he’d never return.

But now, he sighed contentedly, fingers drawing lazy patterns onto your shoulder, eyes fluttering closed. You smiled to yourself, knowing he was yours.

Kinktober Day 1 : First Time

Qimir/The Stranger x you Contents: pwp, fem!readerxQimir (The Acolyte), MDNI 18+ W/C: 1.1k Finally got day 1 done and posted; I'll try and be more on time from here on out! Been thinking about him ever since I watched the show and now I finally have a chance to write something slutty about him for no reason :) enjoy x Kinktober Masterlist | General Masterlist | AO3

“You’ve never given in to those urges, have you? Even after all these years.”

“I… I’m a Jedi…” You muttered feebly as you sat watching him cook over the small stove, occasionally gazing over at you through those gorgeous, deep brown eyes.

“No, you were a Jedi. A Padawan at that. You aren’t anymore. You're free to do as you please.” You knew exactly what he meant, exactly what you wanted to do. You hadn’t been subtle when he had walked out of the sea earlier, the way the drops of salt water had clung to him as more of his form was slowly exposed to you, as though they didn’t want to let go. You knew the feeling. You hadn’t been able to tear your eyes off of him. But what had followed afterwards was a pang of guilt so intense you could have doubled over with it.

The Jedi had always been good at instilling shame in its pupils.

And you knew that. Logically, you knew that the Jedi way was not a path that you followed anymore, that the values you were taught from a young age were not ones that bound you now. And yet, you couldn't bring yourself to cross that invisible line. No matter how much you desperately wanted to.

“I can give you what you want.” He paused, as though gaging your reaction.

“And how do you know what I want?” You asked, angry as he continued to read your every action perfectly.

“Because I have been you before. See…” He moved quickly, striding over to you, pulling off his top and kneeling down. The intensity of his eye contact was unwavering and it made you blush and begin to move backwards, but he reached out gently, enveloping your hand with his and stopping you in your tracks. A soft power spread through your body from the epicentre where your hands met, and by the look on his face, he could feel it too. It was dark and overwhelming, but as flowed further through you, it felt right. He felt right.

He was moving your hand towards him, and you could do nothing but let him, dizzy with the way he was openly sharing himself with you. He finally broke his hypnotic eye contact to turn away from you, and as his hand left yours, you already missed the warmth of his touch. And then your eyes focussed in on what he was trying to lead you to. Your fingertips met the rough skin that streaked across his back like a lightning bolt, a jagged welt that bore unimaginable pain.

“Every Jedi Master leaves scars on their Padawan, whether mental or physical. Mine are obvious. Yours…” He turned around to see your eyes wide, dazed and confused by his admission. He had been a Padawan. And now here he was, a Jedi killer. Maybe he did know what you wanted. He was right, he was you, just a few mere details tweaked. “Your Master killed the girl you were, your ideas, your individuality. Your morals. He rebuilt you whatever way he saw fit. He made you think preserving peace and teaching younglings were all you could be good for. I hope you see now that you can be so much more than that. You are so much more than that.” As though proving his point, his hand grasped yours again, the near dizzying power flowing through you once more. You remembered something he had said earlier, something he had wanted. The power of two. You knew what he meant now. Who wouldn’t want this?

It didn't take long for you to give in to everything you had promised to abstain from. Anger. Fear. Desire.

You spent your days training your body and mind, doing everything to remove the final shackles the Jedi had over you. And you spent your nights with him, legs intertwined, sloppy, opened mouth kisses as he rocked into you, reminding you who had opened your eyes to a whole new world of pleasure and pain. That he was the one who had corrupted you. That he was the only one who would ever see you like this. The only one who would ever make you feel like this.

The night he had told you about his past was the night you had finally allowed yourself to go after what you wanted.

You had kissed him first. You weren’t sure where it came from, but he was there in front of you, shirtless and on his knees, promising you a new life, and you couldn’t help yourself. You gave in so easily. And he reciprocated. He took you to bed and undressed you tenderly. Every touch was addictive, your body reacting to him in a way you didn't think possible. Then he buried his head between your legs, and suddenly this… sensation was starting to overcome you. His tongue was swirling around your core, and there was a pressure building, and it felt good, really good but it was hot and weird and….

“Wait, wait…” you gasped, and he lifted his head immediately, panting and looking up at you with confused eyes. The feeling was gone immediately, but you could still feel the panic rising in your throat.

“Are you ok?” He asked cautiously, hand grabbing yours. You squeezed gratefully.

“Yeah, I… sorry, I just had this weird feeling and I didn't…” He smiled softly, and you blushed, feeling like an idiot.

“Do you trust me?” Everything in your head was telling you no, telling you to scream at him, to let you go back to your old ways, but your heart fought back. You nodded. “Then let it happen, ok?” You nodded again, and watched as his tongue dipped back into your folds. You moaned lightly, running your hand through his hair as he continued, and that feeling was back again. You started to panic, but he gripped your hand tighter, reassuring you, and then something happened. All the pressure was suddenly released and all that was left was a wave of white hot pleasure ripping through your body. Your hips bucked into him instinctively as you rode it out, vision cloudy, hand gripping his tight.

It wasn’t long before he was inside you, his thrusts long and deep. It hurt, you couldn’t deny it, a pain biting at you that almost brought tears to your eyes. But he looked down at you, whispering praises and curses and the pain gave way to pleasure, even more blinding than before. You whimpered, a pathetic cry torn from your lips.

“That’s it, good job…” he muttered, “that feel good?” You hummed in acknowledgment, not quite enough breath in your lungs to say anything else. You ran your hands up and down his arms, feeling the rippling muscles there as he continued to rut into you.

“Maker, you feel incredible…”

And after that, you were his. His pupil. His lover. His acolyte.

The power of two.