#Hunter fire engine

[larryshapiro]

First motorized fire engine in Apex, NC - antique 1939 Ford Hunter fire engine 

[mlady-magnolia]

Just wanted to share some Honkai/HSR OCs because they’re infecting my brain rn

[cevansbrat0007]

The Do-Over

Summary: Everyone deserves a second chance, including jerks like Bounty Hunter, Ari Levinson. Takes place directly after the events in Hello, Duchess.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Bucky Barnes, A Deep Love of Clark Bars, Light Groveling, Bickering, Discussions of Grief, Threats of Violence, Gentle Manhandling, Brief References to Negative Body Image, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Special thanks to my creative consultant, @curls-and-eyeliner. Part my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

An annoyed Ari takes a pull from his cigarette as he listens to his friend and fellow combat vet give him shit all the way from his office back in New Mexico. As soon as this was over, he was going to ditch this empty parking lot to find himself an ice cold beer and a goddamned steak. 

He was officially ready to put this day behind him. But first he needed a decent dinner.

“So let me see if I’ve got this right.” His friend begins, now that he’d finally stopped cursing up a blue streak. “Do you really mean to tell me that you took our best lead, which just so happened to be the perp’s girlfriend, and fucked it all to hell?”  

Okay, but just because that’s what happened doesn't necessarily mean that it was actually his fault. He’d just been a little off his game.

“Hey Buck, don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re beginning to sound as dramatic as Rogers.”

“Steve would never fuck-up something this big for us.” He could practically hear the man flipping him off.

“I’m telling you this girl would’ve cut off Golden Boy’s balls and fed them to him for breakfast, okay?” He takes another puff, flicking some of the excess ash out his driver-side window. “Trust me.”

“Hold on.” An exasperated Bucky sighs into the receiver before placing the phone on his desk to speak to whoever had just walked into his office. He hoped whoever it was had better news than he did, otherwise he feared his old war buddy might have an aneurysm.

Sometimes he got the impression that Sergeant James “Bucky” Barnes was wound a little too tight.    

The silence drags on as Ari contemplates getting out of his car to stretch his legs. It’s another several minutes before Bucky is back on the line, and this time he sounds positively exhausted.

“We can’t afford to lose this one, man. Westbrook might be a piece of shit, but he’s an expensive piece of shit. So while I don’t care how you feel about the girl, you need to make things right. She could have some valuable intel.”

“Yeah, I know.” His mood darkens as he flicks the cigarette onto the pavement. As he watches it hit the ground, he finds himself wondering if it was finally time to quit the cancer sticks altogether. It’s not like he hadn’t thought about it before.

“Besides, what do you care if she was Westbrook’s fuck buddy?” Ari’s treated to the sound of his friend unwrapping something that sounded suspiciously like a candy bar. There was only one person who was known to keep that stuff at the office.

Which meant that shit had better not come from his personal stash, otherwise Bucky Barnes was a fucking dead man.

“I don’t.” Ari growls, sucking on his teeth. “And that had better not be a Clark Bar you’re eatin'.”

“Hate to break it to ya, pal. But based on what you told me earlier, it kinda sounds like you might.” There’s an unmistakable sound of a grin in his voice, which irks the bounty hunter to no end. 

“And I think it’s finally time you got your hearing checked, old man.” He growls back, although his words lack any real fire. 

“As for your precious Clark Bars,” he continues. “See, normally I’d pass on ‘em. But Pixie’s been on a health kick lately and she threw out all the junk food. So, I’m desperate.” Bucky gives an exaggerated groan. “Plus, she has no idea about your stash.” 

“Jesus.” Ari grumbles, firing up his engine with the intent to head back to the house he was currently renting. “I really wish you two would just suck face already and get it over with.”

“Mind your fucking business, Levinson.”

“Then keep your filthy hands off my fuckin’ Clark Bars, Barnes.” There’s a heavy sigh on the other line, prompting Ari to roll his eyes. All he wanted was for this conversation to fucking end.

“Look.” Bucky grunts. “You bring down this Westbrook fucker and I’ll buy you a goddamned case of those stupid bars. Alright?”

“You got yourself a deal.” Turning on his truck, Ari slowly heads for the exit as his stomach begins to rumble. Maybe he’d track down some shrimp to go with that steak.

“And fix whatever it is you fucked up with that bookstore broad while you’re at it.” 

“I’ll do my best.” He grimaces as his mind treats him to images of you threatening him with your taser. “But if that little spitfire puts me in the hospital you’re footin’ the bill.” And with that, Ari hangs up the phone.

As of now, he was officially done for the night.

A Few Days Later…

You’re sitting on the floor of your stockroom when you hear the tinkling of bells signaling the arrival of a customer. Groaning as you rise to your feet, you wipe your palms on the fabric of your pants and head to the front of the store. 

Business had been unusually slow today, so hopefully this patron - whoever they were - would be in the mood to buy something. As you were driving in this morning, you’d briefly considered holding another sale. Maybe it was time for another book fair. That seemed to be pretty popular the last time you’d done it. 

You’re in the middle of making a mental note to reach out to the local librarian when your eyes land on the absolute last person you wanted to see standing in your lobby: Ari Levinson. 

Not this guy again. 

“Yeah, it’s me.” He says, offering up an unapologetic shrug as he takes in the sight of you in your form-fitting yoga pants. 

Apparently you’d spoken out loud. Perhaps if you kept doing it, the man would eventually get offended enough to leave. Wishful thinking at its finest.

When the intruder realizes you don’t plan on speaking again, he decides to take advantage of the silence by doing something completely unexpected. 

“I just dropped by to, uh…” He takes a deep breath, rocking back on his heels. “Apologize for how our last meeting went. While it wasn’t my intention to insult you, I know that I did.” One big hand comes up to massage the back of his neck. “Just wanted to offer that, for whatever it’s worth.”

“Oh. Wow.” You reply dumbly, crossing your arms over your chest. For whatever reason, you got the distinct impression that he didn’t make apologies often. 

“You’re right, sweetheart. I don’t.” His lips turn up in an awkward grin as he takes a step toward you. “But a real man knows how to own up to his shit, which is exactly what I’m doin right now.”

“Okay.” 

Mouth suddenly dry, you go to take a step back, only to find that your legs no longer work. Next thing you know, Ari is in your space, his boot clad feet are now mere centimeters from your well-loved sneakers as he towers over you. 

He holds out his hand as a gesture of goodwill, silently imploring you to take it. Your eyes lock with his as yours moves on its own accord – almost as if you’d been entranced. 

Your hand feels so small and delicate in his grasp. And for a second, you wonder what it might be like to lace your fingers together. How it would feel to hold onto him so intimately for just a few seconds longer. You sneak a glance up at Ari, only to watch as his pupils dilate, his nostrils flaring just slightly. It’s enough to let you know that you’re not the only one affected.

“You think we might be able to try this again?” His deep baritone washes over you like a balm. “You have my word I’ll do a much better job of, uh, keeping myself in check.” 

Yanking your hand away, all you can do is nod. Part of you almost wished the man would go back to acting like an asshole. At least then you would know how to handle him. This so-called charming and apologetic Ari was a different beast entirely.

“I–” You swallow thickly. “Yes, that’s fine.”

“Thank you for your kindness.” His easy smile has the nerve to do funny things to the butterflies in your belly. “And while I would hate to do anything that might spoil this good will, I would like to ask you a couple of questions right now.”  

Instantly suspicious, you open your mouth to deliver a curt “no”. However, having already anticipated this, Ari is quick to amend his request by promising not to be too invasive. He also insists that he’ll follow your lead. 

“If at any moment you want to stop, we’ll stop. You have my word on that too, darlin’.” He surveys the room, absentmindedly scratching at his jaw. “You good with me ensuring we have a little privacy?” Again you nod, wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible. 

Because at this point, it just didn’t make sense to kick the man out. Especially not when he seemed to be taking great pains to be respectful. You could only hope that he’d appreciate your cooperation enough to go bother someone else when you were through. 

Maybe it might be worth leading him back towards someone who’d actually appreciate his attention. Someone like your would-be frenemy, Charline Marshall. 

Seemingly encouraged by your response, the invasive bounty hunter hustles towards the door so that he could flip your sign from open to closed. And, unbeknownst to him, it also gives you a chance to begrudgingly appreciate just how good his ass looks in his Levi’s. 

Alright. So maybe you’d hold off on feeding Ari Levinson to Charline and her disciples – at least for right now.

“You know.” You cough, needing to give yourself a moment to recalibrate before you said or did something dumb. “I actually just remembered that I needed to fix a couple of things around the shop during my lunch break.”

An unruffled Ari simply smiles and winks back at you. “Thought you said you believed in your ability to multitask?”

You resist the urge to stick your tongue out at the smug bastard. Because he was right. You absolutely had said that. And then he’d had the gall to fucking listen. 

“Fine.” Shooting him a glare, you head over to the counter and toe-off your shoes. 

“Appreciate it, darlin’.” 

Just like last time, out comes his pen and tiny notebook. He flips it open to a new page before giving you his full attention. Meanwhile, you’re now hellbent on acting like he doesn’t exist. 

“How long have you owned your shop, Baubles & Quills?” 

If you were to look in his eyes at that moment, you would’ve seen them shining with genuine inquisitiveness. Almost as if he actually wanted to get to know you. 

“A few years.” You reply, bracing your hands on the flat surface of the desk. “I spent a large part of my childhood here, buried amongst books. My uncle left it to me when he passed. But I’m sure you already knew that.” 

Taking a deep breath, you send up a silent prayer to the Lord asking him not to let you fall before hefting yourself onto the counter with all the grace you can muster.  

“Maybe.” Ari concedes while jotting something down on his notepad. “But it’s different coming from – just what the hell are you doin’ woman?!”

“Checking out this light fixture.” You huff as you work to steady yourself.

“Any reason you couldn’t do that from the ground?” The bounty hunter surprises you by sounding more than a little stressed.

Confused by his response, you manage to spare a quick glance in his direction. Although your unlikely companion looks less than happy, you fail to fully grasp the nature of the problem. 

“Because I couldn’t quite tell if this whole panel was out, or just the one little section.” 

“Alright, well…” He drags an agitated hand through his already messy brown locks. “Now that you’ve seen it, how about you come on down from there?”

“Oh my goodness, Levinson.” An exasperated chuckle bubbles its way from your throat. “It’s just the counter. Save the freakout for when you find me on the flippin’ roof or something.” 

“You’re standin’ on the damned thing wearin’ nothing but socks. It’s like you’re askin’ to fall.”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic.”

“How the hell is my expressin’ concern about your safety bein’ dramatic?” 

“Next question, buddy.” You have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing at the affronted look on the bounty hunter’s gorgeous face.

Ari forces himself to take a breath before attempting to return back to the task at hand. “I have it here that your Uncle is the late Lenny Barstowe. He was, by all accounts, an upstanding pillar of this community.”

“He was.” You agree, bending down to grab the duster resting near your feet. 

“You say he was your uncle, and yet you two don’t share the same last name.” He frowns when he notices your slight wobble. 

And for the tenth time in almost as many minutes he finds himself wondering why the fuck you didn’t hire someone to take care of shit like this for you? Hell, give him a ladder and a free afternoon and he’d handle things himself.      

“Wow. Nothing gets past you.” You sniff, trying to fight back a sneeze as dust goes flying. “They teach you those observation skills in private detective school?”

“Sure did.” Ari snorts without missing a beat, tucking the pen behind his ear. “First thing on the syllabus, in fact.”    

“Thought so.” 

“So glad we cleared that up.”

You can’t stop the small thrill that courses through you when you notice the newfound tick in his jaw. If you weren’t careful, you could find yourself growing addicted to that little zing in your blood. To that tiny spike in your pulse you felt every time you two sparred.  

“But if we could go back to your uncle, I’m sure losing him had to be hard – what with him being your only family.” He takes a turn fanning himself with his notebook. ”Was your friend, Martin, there for you during that difficult time?” 

That particular question actually makes you pause and reflect. You’d been so lost in grief back then, which is part of the reason it had taken you so long to claw your way out of that dark hole. And, if memory served, you’d done that majority of that clawing on your own.

“I’m sure he was around, Mr. Levinson.” Your answer sounds cagey, even to your own ears. “But I pretty much wore my grief like a sweater back then. And if I’m being honest, those first few months after losing him were nothing but a miserable haze.”    

“I know the feeling.” He murmurs as he scribbles on the page. 

“Look.” You blow out a breath as you attempt to gauge the distance between the desk and the ground. As of this moment, you officially regretted not grabbing your step stool. “I don’t know where Martin is or who he’s running from. All I know is that he was scared, but he refused to tell me anything more, okay?”

“Did he ask you for money?”

“Yes.” 

He’d also called you too. And while you choose to keep that little detail to yourself, you figure there was no harm in telling him about the money. At the time you’d had no idea you were potentially aiding and abetting a criminal. Or maybe you just hadn’t wanted to believe it.

“And did you give it to him?” The intense look in his beautiful blue eyes has you suddenly feeling foolish.  

“Yes.” 

It’s that one word, spoken barely above a whisper, that leaves Ari shaking his head. His gaze drops to the ground as he works to rein-in his temper. You have no idea what a struggle it is for him to do so – because he’s not upset with you. 

If anything, you’d just given him one more reason to run that slippery motherfucker into the goddamned ground. 

“How much did he get you for?” Even though Ari has calmed himself considerably, his tone still comes off harsher than he intends. 

“Almost $500.” You tell him, your face hot with embarrassment. “I suppose I should’ve asked more questions. You probably think I’m an idiot for –”

“It’s okay, darlin’.” He swiftly interjects, not wanting you to get upset. “You’re doin’ so great bein’ honest with me right now.” Unsure of what else to do, he tosses his notebook aside in favor of reaching for your hand. “I know this shit ain’t easy.”  

“I think I’m done for now.” You tell him, doing your best to avoid looking at your now joined hands. God, he really needed to stop doing that. “Please.”

“Okay.” He readily agrees as his thumb strokes along the ridge of your knuckles. “Then we’re done.” You watch his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallows. “Are you gonna let me help you down off the counter before you kick me out?”

“It’s okay. Don’t want you to hurt yourself.” You mumble as you busy yourself with trying to figure out the easiest way to sit and scootch your way out of your current situation.

The last thing you needed was this man accidentally throwing out his back over some misplaced chivalry. 

To his credit, Ari decides to ignore your feeble protests. “C’mon and let me help you.” He repeats, gesturing for you to step towards the edge of the counter so that he can grab you by the waist. “And then I’ll be on my way.”

“Really, I’m fine.” You attempt to swat at his hands, which doesn’t actually work.

“C’mon, darlin’.” He assures you gently. “Just trust me.” The next thing you know, you’re suddenly being lifted into the air. “I got you.”

“Ack – I’m too heavy!” You squeal, immediately caught off guard by the way your legs briefly dangle in the air. Try as you might, you honestly could not remember the last time a man had picked you up. 

Your heart speeds up as he effortlessly sets you down on your feet, allowing your body to slide down the solid wall of his chest. Instinctively, your hands fly to his biceps in an effort to steady yourself. 

“Thank you.” You’re suddenly having a hard time breathing around this man. “But you really shouldn’t have done that. You could’ve hurt –”

“Sweetheart, you ain’t nothin’ but a feather.” Ari rumbles, his hands still resting firmly on your hips. 

“Somehow I doubt that.” You whisper, knowing that you should demand that he let you go. Except your body is too busy buzzing to actually cooperate. 

“Happy to prove you wrong any time.” While you suspect that he hadn’t really meant to say that, his smile is full of promise. “But right now, I’m afraid I’ve gotta head out.” Although it still takes another second for him to release you. 

Not that you’re complaining any. Which deep down you know could spell trouble for you. 

Before he leaves, however, Ari reaches into the front pocket of his jeans to hand you what looks a lot like a business card. “What’s this?” You mentally smack yourself in the forehead the moment the question leaves your mouth. 

“My card.” He responds as he now heads toward the door. “That’s my cell, just in case you need it.”

“Oh.”

“Call any time, day or night.” Ari’s gruff, no-nonsense tone goes straight to your core. “You remember somethin’ about Martin? Call me. You lookin’ for someone to stand guard while you lock up at night? Call me. You need to hear a friendly voice in the dark? Fucking call me.” 

His offer takes you by surprise. So much so, that you’re temporarily rendered speechless as you clutch the stiff piece of paper in your palm. While you weren’t sure if you’d ever take him up on his offer, you could certainly appreciate his generosity. 

“Thank you.” You rasp, your teeth going to nibble at your bottom lip.

“Any time, Duchess.” His head dips politely as he exits through the front door. “I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

And just like that he was gone, which meant you could finally breathe normally again. Strange butterflies once again fill your belly as you take your time examining the card your bounty hunter had left behind. While you weren’t sure if you’d ever call him, you decide it’s worth tucking into a zippered pocket in your purse before getting on with the rest of your day. 

Little did you know that you would come to need that tiny piece of paper sooner rather than later…  

END

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[moonstrider9904]

Crosshair doubted himself when it came to firing the shot at Omega and Hemlock's cuffs. He was not willing to risk hurting Omega with a blast from his own weapon.

Crosshair, who at the start of the TBB arc in Clone Wars season 7 would have reveled in the complexity of his shooting skills, who could shoot a flea off Wrecker's back in the rain without hurting him, who was engineered to be the perfect sniper, was not willing to risk his blast being off and hurting someone he loves. Crosshair reached a point where, when it comes to his little sister, he wouldn't be cocky or arrogant. And besides, his shooting hand was gone. The hand that had caused him so many tremors but with which he'd also landed every shot he could be proud of...

And it was Hunter who encouraged him. Hunter, whose relationship with Crosshair faltered and strained and recovered, placed his full trust on Crosshair even when it came to Omega. Hunter, perhaps the only one who could rival Crosshair's concern for the kid, had no shadow of a doubt that his brother could make the shot without hurting her.

And so, Crosshair shot the binders perfectly, freeing Omega and allowing the three of them to destroy any threat to the clones, physically and metaphorically. Crosshair, Hunter, and Omega freed the clones, and they did it together.

They freed the clones through their love and trust in each other as a family, and I can't think of a more perfect, beautiful way for them to have done this. The clones are family. Loyalty means everything to the clones.

[the-californicationist]

Hello🐻❤

Military!Biker!Price ?

I mean... Repaired a motorcycle, ride a biker

I love you Cali ❤🫂

I love you too @leixy and I’m so sorry for the wait!! Hope you enjoy the story 🩷🩷

MDNI

Storm Chaser

The rumble that you heard just outside of your garage may have been mistaken for thunder. The skies were gray, and as they rolled across the firmament, you knew they’d linger, soaking the ground and making the soil black with its fallen waters. But, this wasn’t a thundercall. This was a Triumph. 

A giant, hulking man, laden with muscle and black leather gear, rolled into your mechanic shop’s driveway on a blacked out, stealthy Triumph Storm GT. Its rider’s face was covered in a full helmet, and as he slowed to a stop, his heavy boot dug into the shale, catching the center of the bike and sitting up straight, killing the enormous engine.

He looked at you. You knew he was looking at you because there was no one else to look at. You saw yourself in the black mirror of his visor, and all around you were the empty fields surrounding your shop, the tall grass roiling in the wind. 

The gloves came off first, and you indulged in his hands. They seemed monstrous; a thin dusting of dark hair covered his skin, and each finger looked like it might have been wider than two of your own. His nails were clean, which surprised you for some reason, and there was a nasty scar along his right palm. 

He fiddled with his helmet, unlatching the buckle, and then yanked it over his head. 

Shit. You cursed inside of your mind. He’s hot as hell.

You’d been drooling over the bike, but the man sweetened the deal. He was ruggedly handsome, and his movements were so easy. It was like being in the presence of a magician, as if he knew all the secrets and delighted in hiding them from you. He was so certain, so sure of his tricks, and you waited on him to break the spell he’d put on you. 

“Alright, love? How’s it goin’?”

He held out his hand for you to shake, and it warmed you like a fire. His grip was firm but careful, and he let you go without a shake. You smiled,

“All good. Slow day,” you pointed upwards, “No one but you out in this weather.”

He chuckled, and you fell for him even harder. His mirth was contagious. He looked up at the darkening sky and told you,

“Aye, it was pourin’ cats and dogs a few minutes ago. Chasin’ me here, I’ll wager. Thought I’d wait it out here. Maybe get the service I’m due for.”

“This bike’s brand new,” you scoffed, “How did you put ten thousand miles on it already?”

He gave you a half-grin and admitted with a shrug,

“I like to get away.” 

You nodded, and he dismounted, unzipping his jacket for comfort. You gave the bike a once-over, checking for any signs of trouble. As new as it was, you’d already been trained on it, so you felt confident you could help him. You mentioned your plan,

“Oil, brake pads, filters. Check your sensors. My Triumph cert is up to date, so we’ll just clean her up by the book. How does that sound, mister…?”

“Price. John Price. Sounds class, love.”

“Waiting room just in there, John,” you pointed over to the tiny little sitting room you’d added to the garage, “Got a library and some coffee. Should be fresh. Just made a new pot a few minutes ago.”

“Cheers,” he smiled, and it was the most handsome one you’d seen in a while. His full lips stretched into his cheeks, and his tanned skin crinkled up to his eyes. 

The eyes themselves were a problem. They were a hue of blue you’d never seen, and they pinned you down like a wild animal, a hunter and his prey. But, all of that ferality was tied taut, held by a rope in his clenched fist, and his gnashing hungry teeth were kept from biting you, controlled by his tight-laced civility. All of that chivalry made you wonder what he was like when he was allowed a little freedom. 

As he walked away from you, you ogled him. You weren’t even ashamed to do it. He was everything you wanted in a man. Him and his bike oozed a primal sort of power that you’d been craving, and you wanted a taste of that freedom. 

His bike was his escape, that was for sure. Ten thousand mile service after only a few months of ownership was impressive. This man liked to ride long and often. There was plenty of evidence of wear and tear, but as rough as he had been with his ride, there was evidence of his love as well. The clean body, the mended tailpipe, evidence of a scuff polished away; it was all proof of his affection.

The service was easy and quick. As you were checking his sensors and finishing up the job, the first pitter patter of rain began to fall into the gravel drive. In the beginning, it was soft and sweet, just a few drops here and there. Then, over the short span of mere moments, it came down in a torrential pour, slamming itself into the ground and pummeling the pavement. 

You watched it slip and slide off of your metal roof in sheets, and you got close enough to the edge so that you could feel the cool spray from the downpour, a few droplets spitting onto your nose and cheeks. A bright blue bolt of lightning streaked across the cloudy pall, followed by a deafening roar of thunder that resonated in the hollow of your chest. 

Cleaning the oil from your hands as best you could, you went to deliver the bill to your customer. To your sick delight, he’d be trapped with you at least until the storm passed, and you crossed your fingers that he could do with a bit of company. 

He was sitting on the wide couch in the waiting room, his hands prying open a book. When you looked at the spine, you noticed that he was deep into the first few chapters of Moby Dick.

“Having fun yet, John?”

“Enjoying the rain on this tin roof of yours. Makes me want to kip down here on your sofa. Love to fall asleep listenin’ to the storm.”

“Me, too,” you admit, nodding towards the book, “Has he caught the whale yet?”

John shook his head,

“No, we barely got out of the harbor. You work fast. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me though, love. I don’t fancy a ride out in this mess.”

“No problem. Take all the time you need.”

“D’ya mind?” He dug around in his jacket and pulled out a short, fat cigar. 

You waved him on, motioning that it was alright with you, and he happily lit his stick, working an ambery, glowing tip until fiery smoke spilled from the end. You were about to turn and hide somewhere else, anywhere that you wouldn’t need to smell his burnt, woodsy scent. It was making you hungry for a puff of his cigar and a long lick of the inside of his mouth. 

A little self-control please… You begged yourself. 

He caught you as you started to leave, and the feeling of his hand on his surprised you with its warm sincerity. You looked down at him, but you didn’t pull away. 

“Stay… for a bit. I was just gettin’ to the good part,” he said with a sly smile, holding up the book as if to offer it to you. 

“Alright,” you replied, your voice sounding too small and too quiet in the small space. 

You sat next to him, worrying over your oil-stained nails as he read aloud to you, pausing every now and then to smoke his cigar or to turn his pages. Slowly, you started to relax, and as you leaned back into the couch, the sound of his voice and the drumming of the rain blended together into a soporific haze. You caught yourself looking at him — staring at him — with hooded eyes, studying the way his lips and tongue and teeth formed his words. The dark bristles of his beard giving you a clear view of every micro-movement of his face. 

He was looking at you, now, too. Staring at you. Every now and then, he’d glance back at the book, read a few lines, and then take a long pause to smoke and to meet your gaze. 

Suddenly, he seemed to make a conscious choice. He sat forward, and his huge shoulders cast a shadow over you. He held out his cigar and asked, 

“Fancy a smoke?”

You didn’t reply, but you took it from him ever so slowly, as if he might bite, and put the end in your mouth. You sucked in the smoke to taste the rich tobacco, and you let it roll around in your mouth before releasing it, letting it hit him in the chest and neck, billowing around his stoney jawline. 

Then, he said something to you in a new voice. It was one you knew, but you hadn’t heard it in a very long time. It was desire,

“Pretty little thing, aren’t you, love?”

You let his compliment wash over you like the downpour outside. It soaked through, right to your bones. You took another drag from the cigar, earning yourself a deeper chuckle and a pleased, approving grin.

“You should see me when I’m out of these coveralls,” you quipped, certain that your smudged cheeks were now a rosy shade of crimson. 

He took the cigar back from you and put the book down, leaning closer to you, positioning his knee between yours, forcing you to spread your legs. He smoked, filling the space between you, taking another drag for himself, breathing in and breathing out, trying to test the waters,

“Care to show me now?”

You met his smoldering gaze. The tip of his cigar had nothing on the glow from behind his eyes. He was poised and ready to pounce, a lion on a lamb. 

You didn’t answer him. You simply watched as he unzipped your work coveralls and let the sleeves slink down your arms. You pulled them free, revealing what was underneath. You were braless, letting your heavy tits lay unbound in the soft fabric of your ribbed tank, preferring comfort over fashion. 

His hand came up to cup your cheek, rubbing some of the smudged oil with his thumb. He leaned forward even further, breathing heavily with you, panting like he had run for miles, all for the sole purpose of brushing your sensitive bottom lip with his own, teasing you with your own taste, hungry for your body and ready to consume you in every way he knew how. 

He began to kiss you slowly, languidly, as if you were both trapped in some world of slow motion where time need not exist. You need not be bothered with the past or the future. The present was enough, and it stretched between you forever. Each kiss deeper than the last, each touch more sensual, making your breath catch in your chest. 

John pulled away from you, slowly untangling himself, looking at you as if he had been keeping some smoldering question inside of his chest. He moved so slowly, telegraphing his motions so you would know his intent. Rapt, you watched his hand drop to the hem of your tank, his thick fingers dancing along the seam, carefully pulling it away so that his warm hand could slide underneath. 

Your whole body shuddered as his palm spread across your soft belly. His callused hands were rough against your skin, and the way he grabbed at you, greedy yet slow and savoring, made you feel like he had hypnotized you. You were frozen in place, submitting to his desire. 

He looked up into your eyes, checking with you to see if you would allow him to venture further and then moving further anyway, unable to quell his lurid hunger. His fingers found the swell of your breast, the heavy flesh hanging like ripe, sweet fruit, ready to be tasted. A thumb slipped across your nipple, encouraging it to tighten into a little peak, just plump enough to fit into his wet mouth. 

Without lifting your shirt off of you, he bent his head and suckled on your taut nipple through its fabric. He wet the cloth and your skin, and when he pulled his mouth away, the dampness lingered, teasing you with the memory and lingering on you, chilling your flesh. Another swipe of his thumb and you heard yourself let out quiet little mewls, whining and needy. His immediate, chuffed grin made you blush with shame. 

So, you took your revenge. You reached your hand across the supple leather of his riding pants and found the tip of his fat cock hanging trapped and turgid halfway down his muscular thigh. You used your finger to draw tiny circles around his head, knowing he could feel it. To your satisfaction, his eyes fluttered closed, lost in the sensation. 

Then, his hands plundered under your top, scrunching the fabric up to your collar, revealing your skin to him. As you messaged his heavy cock, you watched him sigh as he admired your curves, drinking you in like a desert palm, his hard root stretching towards its oasis. 

“Take me out, love. Please,” he begged you softly, kissing you between his gentle whispering words, and you knew what he wanted. 

You yanked at his button to pop it off, and you pinched at the zipper, listening to the metallic whir of its teeth as you freed him. 

He wasn’t wearing anything under his leathers, which drove you wild. He must have been so sensitive during his ride, feeling every bit of the garment’s texture and folds as he straddled his machine. 

You reached for him and he let out a dark groan. His voice became threatening all at once, and he grabbed at you with all of his might, drawing your attention with his words,

“Both hands… ungh, ahh, please. Please touch me with both of your hands, love.”

There was plenty of his length for you to comply, and even with both of your hands, his swollen, rigid girth was still a challenge to manage. You focused on his head, watching as his whole body responded to your touch.

John pulled you in for another kiss, forcing his tongue down your throat, filling your mouth with his heat, crushing you to his chest, abandoning all of his earlier tenderness in favor of lustful fury. 

As he ravaged your mouth, you felt his cock slipping through your hands on its own and you realized that he was using his hips to thrust himself through your grip. You tried to help him, matching his pace, but that only spurred on his carnal want. 

He was moaning into your mouth, and you could feel the hum of his joy against your lips. With each shameless thrust, he cried for you in that dark brimstone timbre, aching and full of longing. 

“John…” you whispered, breaking away to catch your breath, saying his name like a prayer. 

Adding to the drama, a long peal of thunder shattered the sky, killing the lights in your shop. But, you were both so worked up by one another, the shock of a blown fuse paled in comparison, and your eyes stayed locked on each other’s, bound together, unable to look away. Unwilling. 

But, he paused, staring at you, wanting something from you, something more. 

You gasped when he lifted you, rumpled clothes and all, right off the couch. He shouldered the door to the tiny room and walked quickly to his bike sitting you sideways on the seat. You braced yourself with one hand on the tank and one on the tail, waiting for his next whim. 

He was working on your clothes, peeling off your coveralls and shucking off your layers until he found your panties. When he saw the fabric, he paused. You fretted for a moment until you felt the cool, stormy wind blow across the damp gusset. Then, you knew what he was looking at. You were soaking through your panties, and there he was, transfixed on the darkening stain. 

“Wanna taste you, love. Want you in my mouth…” 

John fell to his knees in a flash, his cock still free and flagging up and down, wet with his precome. You squirmed a bit, unsure of your scent and your sweat from your earlier work. 

Those gentle eyes had been replaced with a sinister warning. He pinned you with them as if to say, move away and I’ll bloody drag you back. 

He didn’t bother to kiss the softness of your belly nor your thighs. He wanted one thing, but you didn’t expect him to take you quite like this. He didn’t peel down your panties, instead eating you right through the thin cotton, sucking on the wet cloth and making lewd squelching noises, lapping his tongue over your soaking lips and sucking at your flavor with his eager lips.

“Oh, shit…” You lamented, feeling your body go slack, submitting to him and his power. 

“Fuck…” He said between bites of his meal, “You’re so sweet… Let me… ungh, fuckin’ hell…”

He used his thumb to tug the fabric aside, revealing your gleaming pink flesh. And when he tasted you, skin on skin, John became obsessed. He was pushing his strong jaw so hard into you, working you with his mouth, making you rake your fingers through his hair just to hold onto something, you were afraid the bike might tip. 

In one ruthless motion, he tore your panties from you, ripping the sides and tucking the ruined fabric into his fist. Then, he put that same hand on his cock and began to jerk himself off, rubbing your wet cloth all over his cockhead. 

With his free hand, he grabbed the handlebar of the bike, pulling it down towards him, preventing it from falling, now able to eat you with as much reckless abandon as he liked. 

His mouth moved in long, deep thrusts, fucking you with his scruffy face, suckling at the hardening body of your clit. His tongue pressed into your swollen lips, moving between them with forceful need. As he licked you, he moved lower and lower towards your wet hole, hoping to thrust his writhing muscle inside of you, wanting nothing more than to lick you dry. 

Finally, he reached it, and the tip of his tongue slipped into your pussy, pressing through your slit and fucking you like his cock wanted to. You heard him elicit a gravelly, smoldering whine when he tasted your smooth center, and you watched as his eyes rolled back in his head, his brow furrowing in disbelief. 

Meanwhile, the rain pounded in the open garage doorway, swirling and spitting under its ebon shroud. John cared very little about it, nor did he care that you and he were nearly naked, in full view of the street. The idea that anyone could drive up and see you there, caught in his jaws, made you lose control. 

You tried to hold your voice down, but once he felt you start to come, he did everything he could to set you ablaze. His hand abandoned the handlebar, preferring instead to sink two of his large fingers inside of you, working with his tongue to stretch you open, giving him more of your ripeness to devour. 

You keened like you were on fire, and maybe you were. You thought, as the flames licked up your legs and down your arms, that maybe you would burn right up. Maybe you were a flare, ready to sear a bright scorching light through his mouth, burning his throat like whiskey, brutal and cruel. 

Your whole body had given in to the feeling as if you were an orchestra at the mercy of its conductor. If he wanted your kindling to catch, it would, and you would burn for him. You were his opus, trapped in a perpetual crescendo of his lust, an expression of his own fiery fate. 

His mouth only left your body to cry out in his own right, growling out a breathless groan as he spilled his come into your panties, smearing his cock through his own emission and mixing it with yours. 

Unable to maintain your balance, and unwilling to jeopardize his bike, you sank to the floor with him, feeling the cold concrete on your shins. John tugged you into his lap, panting into your neck, smelling strongly of your scent, his face and beard shining with it. 

You breathed together, fondling what you could reach, cradling each other as if you’d found one another again after years apart. Penelope clutching at her Odysseus, recognizing him through a sea of lesser men. 

“You alright, love?” John asked, still catching his breath, petting your cheek absentmindedly. 

You nodded, affirming your well-being,

“Mmhm. You?”

“Aye,” he smiled, laughing quietly to himself, “But, now you’ve gone and done it.”

“What?” You smiled, enjoying his joy. 

“Didn’t think runnin’ from the rain would be such a fuckin’ good time. Now, when it rains, I’ll be craving you.”

You smiled at him, letting him kiss your neck and cheek, planting his affection like little promises, deep under your skin. 

“You’re always welcome back, rain or shine.”

“How about tonight at six; dinner at my flat?” He looked up at you, hopeful. 

“As long as I get to ride this bike, it’s a date,” you teased. 

He raised his eyebrows at your challenge, and then he gave you a lascivious grin,

“Don’t worry, love. I’ve got just the ride in mind.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Reblogs and comments are much appreciated!

AO3 Link

[sp00kygoddessxx]

⌛Jealousy⌛

The Impala roared down the desolate highway, the rhythmic hum of the engine a familiar lullaby for Dean Winchester. He gripped the steering wheel with a sense of purpose, the road stretching endlessly ahead. Sam, his brother, sat in the passenger seat, engrossed in a lore book.

In the backseat, you sat quietly, staring out into the night. The soft glow of the dashboard cast fleeting shadows across your face, adding an air of mystery to your contemplative expression. Dean couldn't help but steal glances at you in the rearview mirror, a warmth settling in his chest at the sight of you.

You and Dean had been dancing around each other for months, the unspoken tension growing thicker with every shared hunt and quiet moment in the Impala. Tonight, however, something was different. A new dynamic hung in the air, and Dean couldn't quite put his finger on it.

The trio was on the trail of a particularly nasty creature—a shape-shifter that had been wreaking havoc in a small town. The research had led them to a rundown motel on the outskirts of nowhere, and now, with the night unfurling around them, the tension between you and Dean was palpable.

As Dean pulled the Impala into the motel's parking lot, he noticed a group of hunters gathered by a flickering neon sign. They were strangers—faces Dean didn't recognize. The unease settled in his stomach as he realized they were fellow hunters, drawn to the same case.

"Great, more hunters," Dean grumbled, a scowl creasing his forehead.

Sam sighed, closing the lore book. "Looks like we've got company."

You shifted in the backseat, your eyes meeting Dean's in the rearview mirror. There was a flicker of something—perhaps concern or curiosity—that passed between you.

The motel room was cramped, with a single bed and worn-out furniture that screamed of countless transient occupants. Sam occupied himself with unpacking their meager supplies, leaving Dean and you in a charged silence.

Dean ran a hand through his disheveled hair, his jaw tense. "I don't like the looks of those hunters out there. We can't trust anyone we don't know."

You nodded, a frown etching your features. "Agreed. We need to be cautious."

The conversation hung in the air, unresolved tension lingering like a storm waiting to break. Dean couldn't shake the feeling that tonight was different—that the shadows cast by the neon lights were more than just play of light.

As the night unfolded, the hunters convened in the parking lot, sharing information and strategies. Dean found himself increasingly agitated, his eyes darting between you and the group. The laughter and camaraderie of the other hunters grated on him, the unease growing into a simmering jealousy that he couldn't quite quell.

You, on the other hand, navigated the situation with grace, your eyes always returning to Dean as if seeking reassurance. The glances exchanged between you and the other hunters—a shared nod, a brief smile—didn't go unnoticed by Dean, and each one fueled the growing fire of jealousy within him.

When one particularly cocky hunter, Jake, approached you with a smug grin, Dean's jaw clenched. He couldn't hear the words exchanged, but the playful banter and easy laughter grated on him like sandpaper against his nerves.

Sam, sensing the tension, shot Dean a concerned glance. "You okay, man?"

Dean grunted, avoiding eye contact. "Yeah, just peachy."

The night wore on, and as the group of hunters dispersed to their rooms, leaving you and Dean alone in the cramped motel room, the atmosphere grew more charged. Dean paced, his frustration palpable, while you watched him with a mix of confusion and concern.

"Dean, what's going on?" you finally asked, breaking the silence.

He stopped his pacing, his gaze locking onto yours. "Nothing. Just... I don't like the way that Jake guy was eyeing you. It's not safe, and I don't trust him."

A flicker of realization crossed your face, and you took a step closer to Dean. "Dean, you know you're the only one I—"

He cut you off with a shake of his head. "It's not about that. It's about keeping you safe. I don't want anyone else getting in the way of that."

You sighed, reaching out to gently place a hand on his arm. "Dean, I can take care of myself. And I choose you, every time."

His gaze softened, the intensity giving way to a vulnerability that made your heart ache. "I just... I can't stand the thought of losing you. Not to some reckless hunter or anything else."

You cupped his face, your thumb brushing against his cheek. "You won't lose me, Dean. I'm here because I want to be, because I choose to be."

The tension melted away as Dean leaned into your touch, his eyes searching yours for confirmation. Without another word, he closed the distance between you, capturing your lips in a kiss that spoke volumes—a kiss fueled by the shadows of jealousy but ignited by the undeniable connection that bound you together.

[lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom]

Familiar Faces

Tech x Reader

Summary- Techs death was not a reality you were ready for, you relied so much on his love. After months of grief, you find he might not actually be dead.

A/N- SPOILERS FOR TBB SEASON 3 EP 7. I know nothing is confirmed about Tech, but watching this newest episode has got my brain working overtime with fic ideas!

Word Count- 2,708

The cart creaked across the rail line, sending shivers down your spine. There wasn't much keeping all of you up. Inches from falling thousands of feet to your death. The clouds didn't help either, you couldn't see anything.

You fired away, missing most of the time. Everything was happening so fast. A mission gone wrong. Your thoughts were stopped by Hunter's yelling.

"Three ships inbound!" He informs, even when you saw nothing in the sky- you trusted him. He knew better than any of you.

Shortly you heard them coming, the roar of the engines were loud. Soon followed by it's blaster's shaking the cart.

"Tech we need power!" Hunter commands. You work on pure adrenaline and fire at the ships closing in.

One of them is shot down, but not before it knocks out one of the support hooks. You feel the ground shift down, leaning.

Like a breath of fresh air, you hear Tech's voice. Him yelling back "Echo, Now!" was enough to calm you.

"We're online!" Echo retorts. You can't help your grin rising. Finally, things were looking up.

Though, you didn't need Hunter to tell you three more ships were headed your way.

"Tech, hurry." You called out.

You and Omega blasted at one of the new ships, effectively destroying its wing. It crashed down in a black smoke.

From this black smoke a fourth ship came. It was too quick- it shot at Tech, who was still running towards you. He gave a yelp as he fell off the support beam.

Your eyes widened as you gasped, body craning to try and see him. He had a hard landing, but was standing to his feet on the falling compartment of the cart.

It rumbled and shook, about to crash down.

You ran to the back of the cart, trying to get closer. "Tech!" You watched in horror as he tripped back with the rest of the detached pieces.

His grappling hook barely caught onto a stray metal piece. His body bounced back at the tension. "Don't move! I'll pull you up." You tried to reach his line, but it seemed impossible without everyone toppling over into the abyss.

"I-I can't reach!" You called over comms.

"I will climb up, do not risk falling over." You nodded at this, forgetting he couldn't see you. He was more worried for you than himself.

"Come on Tech, hurry!" Wrecker booms, coming over to see what the status was.

You could feel Tech roll his eyes, "I am climbing as fast as I can!"

His grunts break your heart, he panted as he tried to pull himself up. Storm troopers still fired all around you. One of the blast forcing Tech to fall even further.

"Tech!" This time it came from Omega. Your heart was beating too fast to think and speak. You were so worried.

"Why aren't we moving?" Hunter asks Echo. "The cart is being ripped from the back."

The very cart Tech was holding on to for dear life.

You frantically looked to Hunter. "Wrecker, get him on board!" He instructs.

"No, you're too big." You push past Wrecker to take a step on the falling cart.

It creaked loudly, almost giving out. "NO! Don't!" Tech yells up at you. Your eyes connect through the ripped metal. "Any shift in weight could send both of these carts over."

Incoming ships shoot at Techs line, he dropped down again.

"You must sever the connection hinge. Now!" Tech says.

Your face falls. "Are you crazy! No, you'll go over!" Tears welled up in your eyes. There had to be another way.

Another creak and shift. You were almost thrown over by the rocking.

Tech gave out a heavy sigh. This time he spoke gentle, saying your name. "There is no time..."

"Tech, please no!" You begged. He pulled out his blaster, not looking away from you. He was going to sever the connection himself.

"No!" You screamed, desperate. Your tears were falling faster than ever.

"Plan 99... I love you" He started. With a deep breath you yelled, "Don't you dare!"

"You can't! Please!" You sobbed, still trying to get closer. You heard Wrecker straining behind you, he was trying to hold the falling cart up.

"When have we ever followed orders?"

A shot rang out, he fell.

A piercing scream erupted. You almost didn't recognize that it was your own.

Your instincts kicked in and you tried to leap down, like you could still save him somehow. Wrecker was too fast and caught you, his arm throwing you back into the safe cart.

"No, NO let me go!" You tried to fight off Wrecker, but he was far too strong. He pinned you down easily.

You were hysterical, arms wailing at anyone who kept you from jumping after him. Later, when you were thinking straight- you'd thank them.

"He's gone, he's gone!" You sobbed out, devastated. Your screams filled the air, shocking a few storm troopers close by.

Echo wired the cart to start moving and get everybody to safety.

That was months ago. Just the thought could bring you to tears. You had lost everything you felt the reason to live for. He was your everything. His incompetence for social queues, his punctual speech, his stupidly intelligent brain. All of it was yours, and now it was all gone.

A deep depression fell over you, the only thing driving you was Hunter and Wrecker. They inspired you how hard they fought for Omega. It warmed your heart in your worst times.

It hurt immensely when you heard his name, but it got easier to get out of bed. It got easier to smile again.

Eventually, you reconnected with Omega and started defending Crosshair. Something that was typically Tech's job... You knew you had to take on more responsibilities and make up for the time you were down.

You constantly wondered if Tech would be proud of you.

You and the rest of The Batch found yourselves helping Rex, then... escaping with Rex. An enemy assassin leading the Empire to us.

The nine of you hurried down a secret passage way, to a leach vessel.

The soft clicks of the steps soothed you in some wicked way, even when everyone was running for their lives.

"Stop!" Crosshair yelled out. You turned to look at him, he took a few steps back to look out a carved hole in the stone. "They are coming..."

Just then, a shot rang out. Another assassin hung from the inner walls.

Crosshair ducked behind the wall, "Go, I'll handle it."

The rest of the squad moved down, but you stayed. "I'll help."

That was until you peaked around the hole, getting a glimpse of the man. A rush a deja vu consumed you. Your breath quickened. Why was this man so familiar?

You pushed it down, you had already let your feelings get the best of you too many times. It can't happen again. You fired at him, Crosshair backing you up.

Crosshair put an explosive at the end of his shotgun, catching the man off guard. It threw him off the wall. The two of you headed to the ship.

A blast to the ship sent all of you crashing down. You briefly heard Rex sending Echo a message about an extraction.

Commotion ensued, but it all ended with you falling and getting a bad headache. Your helmet did not do much to cushion the hit.

The rest of the team was briefly recovering from the crash as well, but you had to get a move on.

"We've got attack shuttles inbound." Hunter noted.

"This way." Rex lead.

You traveled on foot in the woods, trying to lose the storm troopers. Fighting them off was light work. One however, stood out from the rest.

Crosshair proved your suspicions when he frantically turned around, gun raised.

"What is it?" Hunter questioned. He got his answer when the assassin shot at us.

With our numbers down and the assassin having the upper hand, Crosshair suggested "I'll draw his fire out. Get to the rendezvous."

You heard Omegas small voice through comms, "I don't like that idea..."

"Too bad." He responds, already crouched behind a rock to fire.

Looking at Omegas worried gaze, "Go, I'll make sure he doesn't get himself killed."

Omega nods at you, then joins Hunter's side. Crosshair just grunts in acknowledgement.

In truth, Crosshair didn't need you. Though, you both knew that Omega needed the peace of you fighting with him. Two verses one had much better odds.

You heard Rex commanding the rest of the squad to move out. You and Crosshair pursued the assassin.

He gave out hand signals, letting you know he was above you. You nodded, sneaking around.

The assassin saw you easily, perfect. He was distracted just enough for Crosshair to get a hit on him, knocking his balance off.

Your face dropped when the assassin recovered in record time, it was like he hadn't even been hit. He now caught you by surprise when he shot at your hand, you lost your weapon. Damn. All you had left was a blade, which you now grasped.

To your dismay, Crosshair had already taunted the assassin away from you. No doubt on purpose.

It took you a minute to find them, Crosshair had followed him to a waterfall. One with rapids at the bottom. The booming of the current was distracting.

You crouched down, keeping a low profile. Crosshair and the assassin fought vigorously. When you saw an opportunity, you jumped.

You tried to get your blade around his neck or at least cut his suit. The assassin was stunned for a second, giving Crosshair time to recover.

The man disarmed you, overpowering you in strength. You fell back with a thud, your helmet flying off. You scrambled to stand, but was forced to stay down because of a stray blast. It just missed your head.

The assassin seemed to know every single move Crosshair made. Like, he had studied Crosshair's fighting technique multiple ways, There was only one man who you knew did that, and he was dead.

The stranger knocked Crosshair to his knees, a gun to his head.

The man now looked to you, ready to dispose of you as well.

You sat up, but did nothing to fight back- fear of him shooting Crosshair.

He however, stopped in his tracks. You just stared, confused. He looked to you, maybe in disbelief?

He, not moving his gaze, stunned Crosshair. You were in shock that he didn't kill him... The thud of Crosshairs body made you jump.

You slowly rose to your feet, you somehow didn't feel threatened by the man anymore.

Now that you stepped closer to him, he stepped back. He seemed to be fighting with himself... Throwing his blaster as far as he could away.

His hands moved to grip the sides of his head, in pain. He stumbled back, head barred down. With a loud 'thud' he fell on his rear.

He scratched at his helmet, trying to take it off. Something inside of him wouldn't let him. He was in turmoil with himself.

Did you feel pity for the man? You slightly shook your head, baffled at what you saw. He was so vulnerable now, you should have killed him for what he did to Crosshair. At least Stun him.

You couldn't find it in yourself. He looked so confused with himself, so conflicted. Your heart wrenched, but why?

Your own actions shocked you, stepping closer to him. You lowered yourself to your knees, inches away. You were skeptical but determined.

He stopped his frantic movements when your hands moved to his head. He let you do as you pleased, frozen in place.

You kept your eyes on him as you gently lifted his helmet. You only got it up enough to see the mans eyes, a deep brown. That and his face structure was enough to tell you who it was.

The face you spent hours drooling over, embarrassing stares caught at, nights laying with. The very face you saw fall thousands of feet down to a cloudy abyss.

You gasped loudly, scrambling back. No, NO. It wasn't him. It couldn't be him...

Your reaction seemed to have broken him out of his haze. His helmet fell back down, covering his face. He, almost instinctively, moved to you. You were too shocked to fight back. He swiftly grabbed your wrist, pulling you up.

The grip was tight, you winced. The man realized his mistake immediately and loosened the grip. if he wanted to kill you, why was he worried about your wrist?

When you were sitting back up, the man reclined on his knees. He slowly moved his hands up to the helmet again, this time with more control.

He raised it completely off. It was him.

Both hands moved to cover your gaping mouth. How? HOW?

"T-Tech?" You called out, voice cracking.

He squinted his eyes and had one hand holding the side of his head in pain.

"You must take Crosshair and run, now." He ended by saying you name desperately.

"W-what? No, I am not leaving you. Tech, what happened? How are you alive!" You leaned to him, wanting nothing more than to hold and kiss him.

He moved back, your touch like fire.

"You have to go. I do not know how much longer I can hold off the chip. I do not want to hurt you." He looked at the ground, ashamed.

"You won't. I know you won't..." You moved closer again, resting a hand over his. You slowly moved it off of his head, holding it. He breathed hard.

"Any better?" You ask. "Yes, I would suspect my will to keep you safe overrided the new chip the Empire has put in my head." You smiled, finally leaning forward to hold him.

The second your arms wrapped around him, you sobbed. It all felt like a dream- well, nightmare.

"I thought you were dead... Tech, oh my Tech." He hugged back, petting your hair. You both frantically proclaimed 'I love you's.' But, he soon pulled away.

"I will not put you at risk any longer." He moved to stand up,

"I just got you back, why are you leaving me?" You couldn't understand.

He stood up, saying your name in a whisper. "I thought I made it clear. My new inhibitor chip is stronger. I am assigned to kill you. I do not want to do such a thing, ever."

"Tech, just please come with me. Rex is with us, he can help remove this one. Just like the others..." You grabbed onto his arm, pleading. How did he expect you to walk away, leave him behind. Especially when you just figured out he was alive.

"I suppose that might work..." He rested a hand to his chin, thinking. More tears flowed from your eyes, he was exactly how he was before. Always calm, always thinking everything through with a steady heart beat.

You looked up at him. "Please, I need you. I-"

"I know. I need you too. I uh- I apologize for shooting you." He said as-a-matter-of-factly.

Your eyebrows furrowed, "You didn't mean to.." You leaned up to kiss him, but something switched in him.

His face twisted and turned, he stepped back. He was fighting himself again, now a hand reached for his blaster. He looked up, face cold and blank. He pointed the gun at your face.

"Tech, Tech, it's just me!" He didn't care, he had a mission to fulfill. The chip was regaining control.

Suddenly, his body quivered and shook. He fell to the ground. Crosshair stood behind.

"Please don't kill him!" You ran to him, making sure he was aware of the situation.

"I know, his chip... I'll carry him back. Rex can look at him." You were hopeful, he was coming home.

It would be a rocky start, but he was alive. He was alive and half-conscious. That was a problem for when you got back on the ship.

For just a second, watching Crosshair hoist Tech up, you relaxed. The pounding of the water on rocks soothed you.

He was alive...

A/N- Thank you so much for reading! I hated the ending, sorry ya'll had to go through that. I didn't know how to end it! I was so motivated with this plot, then kind of lost it. Expect a Crosshair fic this weekend!!!

Tags- (LMK if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @knight-of-flowerss

[fluffy-dixon]

I'm not tired

Daryl Dixon x Fem reader drabble No warnings just fluff

In the cozy confines of your shared home in Alexandria, you sat on the well-worn sofa, anticipation humming through your veins. Daryl, the rugged hunter, had been out tracking, his absence leaving an ache in your chest. Unlike his usual motorcycle rides, today he’d ventured on foot, and you couldn’t rely on the distant rumble of an engine to herald his return.

An hour later, the scrape of boots against the wooden floor announced his arrival. Daryl stepped in, his eyes lighting up as they met yours. Gear clattered to the ground, forgotten, as you enveloped him in a tight hug. He lifted you effortlessly, your legs winding around his waist, and nestled into your embrace. His smile pressed against your chest, a silent confession of longing.

“I’ve missed you,” he mumbled, words barely forming as he rested into your chest, shortly followed by a sigh of relief.

“You sound tired, my love,” you teased gently.

His response was immediate, stubborn: “I’m not.” Daryl was a night owl, sleep a rarity for him, yet somehow your presence always worked its magic. You guided him to the sofa—a nest of blankets, cushions, and scavenged pillows from various runs. He hesitated, those piercing blue eyes studying you.

“I know what you’re trying to do, woman,” he said, a smirk tugging at his lips. But he settled next to you, sinking into the warmth of the cushions. As he did, you brushed a stray lock of hair behind his ear, your fingers tracing the rugged contours of his face—the sharp jawline, the faint stubble. His eyes fluttered closed, and the crackling fire painted shadows on the walls.

“Tell me about today,” you murmured, your voice a soothing balm. “What did you find out there?”

His half-smile spoke volumes. “Same shit, different day—brought two deer back.” You listened as he recalled moments from his day, your fingers never still, threading patterns through his hair. Each stroke seemed to unravel the knots of tension, pulling him closer to the edge of slumber.

Ten minutes slipped by, and his breathing grew deeper, more rhythmic. The lines etched on his face softened, and you marvelled at the vulnerability he allowed only in these quiet moments. His head rested on your lap, and you continued your gentle movements—the soft strokes down his back.

And then, unexpectedly, he snored—a low, rumbling sound that made you chuckle. You draped a cozy blanket over him, tucking it around his shoulders, and settled back into the sofa. The fire’s warmth cocooned you both, and you opened your book, the pages rustling like leaves in the wind. You were content, as much as one could be in an apocalypse. The man you loved, his heartbeat a steady rhythm against your thigh, the fire crackling, while you lost yourself in the pages of your book, stealing glances at his peaceful face now and then.

---

Sorry I've been quiet, Life shit.

Will be updating my masterlist for you all later.

All my love, thank you for your support while I have been AFK.

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

Hello friend! I'm in love with your writing!!! 😍😍😍😍😍

Idk if your requests are still open but I'd like to request something if you don't mind!

I LOVED the hurt/comfort/whump fic you did for Hunter. Could you possibly do something like that for Tech x Reader?

Maybe Tech and the reader are on a mission together or maybe they've crash landed somewhere or something. The reader is badly hurt and Tech has to take care of her and treat her wounds and save her and comfort her in his own special Tech way 😂😍

Oh @arctrooper69 what can I say? I mean ... I think a thank you is just not enough. You have made my day with this request, so I took my time to give it the proper respect it deserves. I hope you like it. If it wasn't exactly what you were looking for I do apologize.

Please note that you are always welcome to send in requests. As this is a special request, it will be stored in my One Shots & Mini Series Master List.

The story got a little away from at 1400+ words, but I hope it's close to what you wanted.

And who doesn't love Tech. I love this adorable nerdy man.

Love oo,

His Promise

Warnings: Snow, injury, blood, explosions, crash, grief, fear, anxiety, hurt, fluff, near death, feelings of being a burden, getting in the way, I think that's it. If I miss any, please let me know.

Please note the explanation of Snow, Tech gives, was taken from the National Snow and Ice Data Centre.

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The wind was picking up, as the snow piled down and was doing everything in its power to keep you and Tech from being rescued. You looked at the snow as it came down in sheets outside the entrance of the cavern he found, mesmerized by its beauty. 

“It’s beautiful and so calming …” you said slowly, your body already weakened from your injury and loss of blood.

“What are you talking about?” Tech did his best not to let the slowness of your breathing or even the breathless way you were speaking affect him. His anxiety was already high, and his fear of losing you was nearing his breaking point. 

“The snow…” you kept watching the soft flakes float down as they gently landed on the ground, piling on top of one another, almost as though they were unable to survive without the comfort of those around them. 

Tech glanced up to see the blizzard which prevented you both from leaving. As he watched the speed of the wind, he calculated it would’ve been nearly impossible for Hunter to bring the ship close to them. As he looked at the used bandages already soaked through with your blood his fear only grew. You needed immediate medical attention, more than he could provide at the moment, or it would mean certain death for you to be out here any longer.

Frankly, he couldn’t stop picturing the way you lunged forward as the ship crashed. He was helpless to watch you, as your body fell forward against the console, as a piece of the console broke off and jabbed you in your abdomen. It all happened too fast and somehow in slow motion. He could still hear your scream piercing his ear as he pulled you off the console.

He tried to stop the bleeding right away, however when he went to look for the med kit, he realized only too late that it had fallen out of the shuttle when the engine and the side compartment blew. All he had left were his emergency bandages and gauze and they weren’t nearly enough. 

At that moment, he couldn’t care less about how beautiful the snow was or how calming the blizzard looked from inside a cavern, that he only had to find because that piece of osik shuttle decided to have a fuel leak, catching on fire. 

Within seconds he had needed to drag you out of the relatively warm and safe shelter you both had, grabbing what supplies he could before the ship blew up. Thankfully, he had been able to send a message to Hunter when the shuttle crashed initially. So it was only a matter of time before the Marauder showed up, but …

His eyes fell back to the bundle of used gauze, his anxiety climbing as he knew you needed more first aid than he could provide at the moment. You needed the Marauder, you needed his med kit that he carefully stocked and kept safe on board the Marauder. At this point in time, he didn’t care about any kriffing snow.

“Snow is an accumulation of packed ice crystals. The condition of the packed crystals determines a variety of attributes, such as colour, temperature and water equivalent. As weather conditions change, the packed ice crystals can change as well, and this affects the characteristics of snow.”

You chuckled at his ability to pull forth information like it was nothing. Unfortunately the chuckle turned to coughing. Only causing you to dribble more blood out of your mouth, you wiped away what you could. He didn’t need to see that, “Tech …” you coughed again, “turn off your brain for two seconds, don’t think and just look. Just watch.”

He pulled the heater closer towards you, “Stop talking and try and warm up.”

“Tech…” you held his hand, “just look.”

His eyes drifted up your body, till he locked eyes with you. They were pleading for him to listen and to just have him appreciate what you found mesmerizing. He tried to follow your advice, focusing on the snow, but all his mind kept drifting back to was this blizzard that was preventing you from getting the medical attention you needed, so desperately. 

He shook his head focusing back on your abdomen, trying to stop the bleeding. Trying his best to keep you with him. 

“Tech,” you gripped his wrist “… stop …”

“No.”

His tone was firm and full of anger, why did he agree to let you come with him? If he used his brain instead of allowing his feelings for you to dictate his actions, you wouldn’t have been here. You wouldn’t have gotten hurt. Why did you always insist on following him? Why didn’t you just stay behind on Pabu? Simply because you wanted to see the galaxy, and he was excited to show it to you? It was his fault you were here. It was his fault you were in danger. It was his fault he … was going to lose you.

“Tech …” you squeezed his wrist. He removed your hand from his wrist, placing it off to the side as he focused on your wound. He didn’t deserve your touch, he didn’t deserve to have you comfort him. It was his fault you both crashed on this force forsaken planet. 

There was nothing you could do as you watched Tech pull away. 

From the moment you met him on Pabu, the way he worked with Phee as he helped rescue the villagers when the rogue wave was rushing towards the island, and the way he helped make everything more ‘efficient,’ you couldn’t help but fall in love with him. You wanted to learn from him, to listen to him go on with regards to anything and everything. Only problem was you never had the courage to actually utter the words you were dying to. Phee told you time and time again, ‘later’ was never a guarantee, and now as you lay on the cold floor of the cavern you were in, bleeding out of your abdomen, you realized how little time there was left. 

  Tears welled up in your eyes, as you realized you needed to unburden yourself. You needed to tell him what had been pressing on your heart before you didn’t have the strength to, it didn’t help that you were feeling weaker with each passing second. Also didn’t help that you could tell he was angry, actually a more accurate description would be infuriated, more than likely at you.

“I’m sorry.” You offered the only apology you could. “I’m sorry I’m such a burden, even now.” You took in a shuddering breath as Tech stopped moving his hands for two seconds as he focused on your face. “I’m sorry for always pestering you to teach me,” you offered, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry for not listening,” a tear slid down your cheek, “I’m sorry for putting you in this position. To have to feel responsible for someone like me.” 

He shook his head, his teeth clenched as his anger, grief, fear, and sadness overwhelmed him completely in that moment. He pulled off his helmet and placed it beside him. 

“Stop.” It was his only command.

“Please, I …” you coughed again, trying to not cough on him. “I just want … I need to …”

He cut off your speech as his hand cupped your cheek, “Cyar’ika …” tears welled up in his eyes, “you were … are never a burden.” He couldn’t believe that’s what you thought of him… that’s what you believed he felt for you. He shook his head again as he pressed his forehead to yours. “I have loved every second we have spent together. I made a point to record every moment with you, because they were more precious to me than breathing.”

You held on to his bicep, keeping him close as tears streamed down your cheek, “Tech … I … I don’t want to go… I want … I want to stay here with you…”

“You’re not going anywhere. I just got you …” his tears landed on your cheeks, mixing with your own, “you’ll be okay. I promise.”

“Hold me… please… just hold me until…I can’t feel your arms anymore.”

“I’ll hold you longer than that,” Tech pulled you into his arms, lifting you off the ground as he felt your body grow weaker. Your eyes were closed, your body was growing pale. He was so focused on you, he didn’t hear the voices calling out to him, at least not until he felt Hunter’s hand on his shoulder. He didn’t wait, there were no more seconds to lose. He rushed towards the Marauder with you in his arms, he wasn’t going to lose you. He promised. He was going to bring you back.

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Tag list:

@liadamerondjarin @badbatch-simp24@spicymcnuggies@lady-ren @firstofficerwiggles @darkangel4121 @discofern @kavecika @monako-jinn-stories @ladykatakuri @avathebestx @theroguesully @furyhellfire66 @carodealmeida @ciramaris @sprout-fics @twinkofthedink @dindjarin-mandalorian @ulchabhangorm @tortor-mcgee @vodika-vibes @clonethirstingisreal

[webslinger-holland]

Best Pilot in the Galaxy | Tech from The Bad Batch

Summary: During a mission, Tech has a hard time allowing his ship to be driven by someone else.

Warning: slight angst and argument

Pairing: Tech x Fem!Reader Pilot

Type: Oneshot

The Marauder was sitting on a world in the Outer Rim called Cassander. It was a lush, green planet with a few major bodies of water. However, most notably, the planet was growing in population and had recently become Ord Mantell's most competitive trading rival.

The ship was nearly empty, except for a singular pilot sitting in the cockpit. She was not the rightful owner of the ship, but had been assigned this mission with the group of rouge clones that did own the ship. The squad was located somewhere in the capital city nearby, attempting to steal the package in which they had come for. The pilot waited patiently for the pickup call.

Now, the pilot had been waiting for nearly two hours for the call to come through the comms. She did everything she could think of to pass the time, which included rummaging through the squad's belongings. Though she didn't find anything of value.

The gonk droid made a noise as he waddled into the cockpit. The pilot went through the ship's log, seeing all the planets the squad had recently visited. Their last stop happened to be Ord Mantell where they were assigned this mission in particular.

"Y/n! Come in," Hunter's voice sounded desperate over the comms. She quickly jolted forward in her seat, pressing the button to relay a message back.

"Read you loud and clear," Y/n responded. She began clicking buttons on the control panel, preparing the ship for liftoff.

"We need a pick up. We've been compromised," Hunter explained. He was panting on the other end of the line, which probably meant they were running.

"What part of stealth mission is so hard to understand?"

"Just hurry. We don't have a lot of time. They're sending air support," Hunter warned her.

"Oh great," Y/n scoffed sarcastically.

"I'm sending you our coordinates," Tech interjected over the communications.

As the Marauder departed off the ground, the landing gear retracted back into the ship. The wings moved downwards as the ship was angled towards the sky. The engine roared to life; the ship began flying towards the rendezvous location.

The workers from the trading post were shooting their blasters at the criminals running away from them. They tried to keep up with them, firing relentlessly as they got away with some of their own goods.

It was Wrecker, Hunter, and Tech who were carrying the heavy cargo in the form of a shipping container. Normally, it would take four guys to carry the cargo, but since Wrecker was so strong, he was able to carry the left side without help. Behind them, Echo and Omega fired shots back at the workers. They covered them as the rest ran as fast as they could.

"Whatever is in here, it better be worth it." Wrecker grunted, dodging the blaster fire.

"As long as we get paid," Hunter responded.

The small squad continued running through the vast forest, maneuvering around trees in hopes of using its coverage to their advantage. They came into a clearing with the workers getting closer each second. All of the sudden, a cliff came into their view which caused them to halt in their place.

"Where's our ride?" Echo asked desperately. He peered around his shoulder with his gun still raised.

"There!" Omega pointed into the sky.

The Marauder rounded the corner of the mountain, coming into their line of view. It flew over to the edge of the cliff to meet them. The ramp lowered to hover right by the cliff, allowing the squad to climb aboard the vessel.

The blaster fire was beginning to hit the sides of the ship. The squad fired back, striking a few of the workers down. Once everyone was aboard, Hunter slammed the button on the side of the wall so the ramp was lifted.

"That's everyone," Hunter shouted. "Get us out of here!"

"Roger that," Y/n said.

Pulling a lever, the thrusters sent a powerful volt back which propelled the ship forward rapidly. By steering the ship, Y/n directed the ship back into the mountain range. She could hear the air support coming up behind them. She took a sharp turn to deter them.

The sharp turn caused each member of the squad to loose their footing and grab something nearby to steady themselves. Carefully, Tech quickly made his way into the cockpit. He leaned over the back of the pilot's seat, resting his hand on the panel for support. He hadn't taken the time to remove his helmet.

"That is sufficient," Tech announced to the pilot. "I'll take it from here."

"A little busy here," Y/n stated instead. She turned the wheel to the left, taking another sharp turn which made everything in the ship turn that way. And Tech ended up leaning a little into her.

"Wrecker," Tech ordered. He moved to sit in the co-pilot seat which was where Echo usually sat. "Get to the tail gun."

There were at least six smaller ships following them at this point, firing as many rounds as possible. The Marauder swayed to the left and right, expertly dodging each blast aimed at them. In the tail gun, Wrecker got into position before firing back at the ships. He managed to hit one of them, but it wasn't enough to bring the ship down.

Back in the cockpit, Tech began pressing a few buttons on the control panel. The pilot glared at him through the corner of her eye, knowing exactly what he was trying to do. She maintained her grip on the sides of the wheel.

"Transitioning controls back to co-pilot," Tech announced. He went to press the final red button, but she swatted his hand away. "What are you doing?" Tech demanded an explanation.

"I know how to fly," Y/n said through gritted teeth. Her eyes were still facing forward as she focused on the task at hand.

"I never said you didn't," Tech informed her. "I am simply stating that I am ready to transition controls back to me as I am more capable of flying this vessel than you. It is my ship after all," Tech said as a matter of factly.

Hunter rolled his eyes in the background. He knew it was pointless to argue over the comment.

"You weren't hired to be the pilot for this mission," Y/n argued back. "I can get us out of this."

With that comment, one of the blaster fires struck the right wing which caused it to catch on fire. The two of them peered out the window, spotting the trail of black smoke falling behind the hit.

"You were saying?" Tech replied. He gestured to the damage done to his ship. She rolled her eyes at him.

A few more ships began trailing behind them. They began firing more shots towards them. There was no way one ship could take the whole fleet down.

"Uh guys," Wrecker announced from the tail gun. "We've got more incoming."

Ignoring the comment, Tech quickly transitioned controls back to his wheel before the other pilot could protest. He gripped the wheel harshly, moving the wheel to take a sharp left hand turn. The ship was forced to swerve around the side of the mountain; a few of the enemy ships crashed into the sides as a result. She switched controls back to her wheel, taking a right hand turn. The ship weaved around another mountainside.

Behind the googles of his helmet, Tech squinted his eyes in slight irritation. He changed controls once again. He quickly grabbed onto the lever, pulling it backwards so the thrusters gave another jolt of energy. Now they were flying a little faster.

Nevertheless, another blaster hit managed to strike the back of the ship. The Marauder jolted forward from the force of the blast. The two pilots lurched forward in their seats. The others continued to hold onto things for support.

"You aren't doing much better," Y/n replied snakily. She reached forward to press the button once more. She turned the wheel as far as she could, which caused the ship to completely turn around. She pulled the lever for the extra push.

"What are you doing?" Tech exclaimed. "Are you trying to get us killed?"

Down in the tail gun, Wrecker began firing at the ships flying directly in front of them. With his expertise, he struck down three ships. Those ships exploded into a million pieces, fierce flames erupting around them. The Marauder flew through the fire without taking damage.

The enemy ships needed to turn around before continuing their chase. They quickly swerved their ships. Once the ships were facing the right way, the thrusters kicked in for that extra power. And the enemy continued their pursuit.

"I will only say this one more time," Tech's modulated voice spoke through his helmet. He turned to face her in his seat. His eyes looked angry behind his googles. "Relinquish controls now."

"Over my dead body," Y/n challenged him. She didn't take her eyes off him.

In the background, Hunter and Echo seemed to raise their eyebrows at the two pilots. They looked between them, half expecting one of them to cave in and go back to flying the ship. But neither of them faltered.

"Uh guys," Omega interrupted them.

Both of them directed their line of attention back towards flying the ship. With a quick maneuver, they managed to dodge the mountain they were heading straight for at the last second. A few more ships crashed into it.

"You're both going to get us all killed if you don't figure something out," Hunter shouted behind them.

Reaching forward, Y/n went to press a few more buttons, but Tech swatted her hand away this time. He went ahead and pressed his own buttons. He was punching in the coordinates for their destination.

"You are not the best pilot in the galaxy," Y/n claimed. She glanced at him through the corner of her eye. He kept putting in the coordinates.

"Hardly a measurable cause," Tech said with a roll of his eyes in annoyance.

"You haven't made the Kessel Run in fourteen parsecs," Y/n added. It was like she was insisting that it could be measurable.

"I have a theory that it can be done in twelve," Tech stated as a matter of factly.

"I highly doubt that," Y/n chuckled at the comment.

Suddenly, Y/n pressed the wheel forward with all of her might. The ship began to descend down at a rapid pace, shifting into a nose dive position. The ground was growing closer and closer with each second. The enemy ships following right behind them, firing non-stop.

Both Hunter and Echo were holding onto panels behind them. The force of falling forwards was pushing them back. They were unable to move.

"You have to pull up--" Tech ordered in a slight panic.

"Oh for the last time," Y/n shouted over him. "I know what I'm doing!"

At the last possible second, the wonderfully skilled pilot pulled the wheel into her chest so that the ship was pulled up. It was so close to touching the ground, but it missed it by a hair. The last two ships crashed into the ground, exploding suddenly and sending debris flying.

Now that the threat of the chase was finally over, Y/n could relax in her seat a little. The rest of the squad was completely silent, realizing that she had managed to get them out of the situation with little damage in the end. Beside her, Tech kept his eye on her since he was still angry with her.

The Marauder started to climb in altitude, shifting towards the edge of the planet's atmosphere. It finally passed through the atmosphere, flying through space. The stars throughout the galaxy sparkled as the planet grew small and smaller. It was now all behind them.

"Are the coordinates to Ord Mantell in?" Y/n wondered. Her voice was so much calmer now. Her shoulders slumped at her sides. But she refused to make eye contact.

"Yes. They are in," Tech informed her softly. His eyes softened behind his helmet. He studied her carefully, trying to figure out what she was thinking in that brain of hers. He quickly shook it off, directing his attention back towards the void of space in front of them.

Without thinking, Tech and Y/n went to reach for the lever to send them into hyperspace. Their hands grazed each other's with neither of them being any closer to the lever than the other. They both awkwardly pulled their hands away upon contact.

"I'm sorry," Y/n muttered under her breath.

He wasn't sure if she was apologizing for the situation they just came out of or the situation that just occurred with the lever. Nevertheless, she reached for the lever once again, pulling it back to send the ship into hyperspace.

Back at Ord Mantell, the Bad Batch went back to Cid's Parlor. They stood on the other side of her desk, having just delivered the cargo that she paid them to retrieve. She peered into the package, checking to make sure everything was there.

Behind the group, Y/n stood there in total silence. Her eyes were trained on the floor as she shifted in her place awkwardly. She waited for their boss to address them.

Beside her, Tech stood about an arm's length away. He glanced at her through the corner of his eye, taking note of her odd demeanor. He raised his finger and opened his mouth to say something to her, but he was rudely cut off.

"Looks like everything is here," Cid announced. She closed the cargo container. She began rummaging through her drawers, collecting the correct amount of credits to pay both parties.

Now Y/n went to take a few steps forward and made her way through the members of the squad. She stood in front of the desk. Her boss went ahead and placed a handful of credits in her hand.

"That is your cut," Cid told her. She handed the rest of the credits to Hunter. "And here is your cut. I'll call you when I have another job," Cid claimed.

There was a brief moment of silence in the room. Cid went to cross her arms over her chest. She narrowed her eyes at the company of six standing in front of her.

"You guys work well together," Cid said honestly. "You should work together more often."

In response, Y/n breathed a scoff under her breath. The boys turned their heads to look at her, slightly surprised at her reaction. She shook her head in denial.

"Yeah. Like that's ever going to happen," Y/n rolled her eyes at the notion.

Without hesitation, she spun around on the heels of her feet in order to head towards the door. She purposely bumped into Tech's shoulder a little too harshly. She left the room with the door closing behind her.

"What's wrong with her?" Cid scoffed. She looked at the rest of the squad for some form of explanation, but none of them said anything. "Fine! Be all quiet and mysterious. See if I care," Cid said.

By the time the Bad Batch left Cid's office, Y/n was nowhere to be found in the bar. They went to sit down at the bar so they could order drinks to celebrate another successful mission. They sat in complete silence, thinking about what transpired during the mission.

"Where do you think she's gone?" Echo wondered.

Though they never pulled missions together, the Bad Batch knew that the pilot worked for Cid and was stationed at Ord Mantell. They had seen her quite often over the past few months. They had grown familiar of her. And now they worried about her.

"The odds are that she returned to her flat," Tech explained. He pushed the bridge of his googles up to be more secure on his face. He kept his focus on his data pad.

"Probably," Hunter shrugged his shoulders. "But it's late. Which means it's dark out."

"Astute observation," Tech claimed sarcastically. He gave a single nod, but didn't take his eyes off his data pad.

"And she's walking back to her flat...at the edge of town...late at night," Hunter further explained.

"She will be fine," Tech stated. He knew where he was going with this. "She is always saying how she can take care of herself and doesn't need our help. Why would that change now?"

The other members remained silent. They turned their heads to take quick glances at one another. With a silent agreement, Hunter rose to his feet and went to stand by Tech. He roughly grabbed his shoulders and hoisted him out of his seat, much to his dismay.

"Go find her. Make sure she gets home safe. And apologize to her," Hunter ordered.

"I do not see why I have to be the one to apologize when I did noth--" Tech began. He was quickly cut off.

"Tech," Hunter said in a warning tone of voice. He crossed his arms over his chest, showing that he meant business.

"Fine," Tech said in defeat. "I will apologize."

With some hesitation, Tech grabbed his helmet and fitted it over his head. He began making his way towards the door of the parlor, leaving the rest of his crew behind. He walked through the deserted streets of Ord Mantell, passing a few shady people in the process.

Now Tech knew that she lived near the edge of town because she had once mentioned it during a conversation. Besides that, Tech really didn't know where to look and simply hoped he'd bump into her before she got home so he'd know she was safe. He passed by a few alleys, peeking through each one briefly.

The Marauder was parked in a hanger bay only a few blocks away from the parlor. Just as Tech passed by the hanger, he heard a familiar voice coming from his very own ship. He backtracked by taking two steps backwards. He peered into the hangar bay to glance at his ship.

Stepping into the bay, Tech tilted his head to the side in slight curiosity. The right wing of the ship began to move downwards until it lay completely horizontal. A few seconds later, Y/n began descending down the ramp with a toolbox in hand. She walked over to the wing of the ship.

Upon seeing her, Tech sharply inhaled. He felt the back of his throat close up and his shoulders tensed at his sides. He hesitantly took a few steps forward, fiddling with his fingers nervously.

Reaching upwards, Y/n placed the single toolbox onto the flat surface of the ship's wing. She proceeded to grab onto the wing before hoisting herself up onto it. She climbed to the center of the wing to assess the damage inflicted in the crossfire.

At this point, Y/n had no idea that he was also in the hanger bay with her. She opened the toolbox, rummaging through to find the right tool. The damage done to the right wing was a massive gaping hole with burnt edges from the fire. It would eventually need a panel welded to cover it up again. But for now, she focused on the internal repairs.

Thankfully, from the assessment, nothing major had been hit. A few bolts had gotten loose and a few parts needed to be replaced. She focused on that for now.

After grabbing a socket spanner, Y/n leaned down to place her arm into the gaping hole of the wing. It went so far down that her chest was practically pressed against the surface of the wing. She used the spanner to tighten some bolts.

"What...are you doing?" Tech decided to finally announce his presence. He stepped forward until he stood in the light coming from the opening of the hanger bay.

Upon hearing that familiar voice, Y/n only rolled her eyes to herself. She continued her work as she preferred to focus on repairs rather than on him. She grunted softly, making sure that first bolt was nice and tight.

"What do you want Tech?" Y/n wondered. She pulled her arm out of the hole to assess her work. She didn't even bother to glance towards him, knowing he would have sent her a look of disapproval for working on his ship.

Slowly, Tech began to lower his gaze to the floor. He contemplated his next words carefully, fighting the urge to lash out at her for meddling with his ship. He liked things to be a certain way and would have much preferred if he did the actual repairs. Now Tech didn't want to fight with her so he changed his approach.

"I analyzed that you left the parlor on your own and thought it would be better if I accompany you back home," Tech explained. She huffed at his answer.

"I've told you before," Y/n began. "I can--"

"Take care of yourself," Tech finished. He adjusted the lenses of his goggles though he still wore his helmet. He noticed how she fell silent. "Yes, I've gathered that much."

"Why are you really out here?" Y/n wondered. She went to lean down again in order to tighten more bolts.

"I...could ask you the same," Tech replied slowly. He honestly felt like this was the first civil conversation they had ever had.

"I wanted to make some repairs on your precious ship since it was apparently my fault," Y/n claimed. Her tone sounding a little harsher now. She tightened two more bolts in the process.

"That is not what I meant," Tech interjected. He took a step forward. He gazed up at her figure perched on the wing, attempting to reason with her. "I was...caught up in the moment. Shouldn't have said those things," Tech confessed quietly.

"Well, don't worry. As soon as I finish up these repairs, I'll leave and you'll never have to see me again," Y/n responded.

For some reason, Tech couldn't combat a response to her comment. He simply nodded his head understandingly. He lowered his gaze to stare down at the ground and allowed her to finish her repairs in silence. He thought for some time how he could fix this relationship since it wasn't his strong suit. Fixing things was more his style.

"Blast," Y/n's voice pulled him out of his train of thought. He glanced up at her.

The sleeve of her blue flight suit had gotten in the way of her repairs. She had rolled her sleeves up to keep the material out of her way, but the sleeves continued to fall back down to her wrists every time she placed her arm in the hole. She pulled back and rose to her feet.

Without hesitation, Y/n's hands flew to the top button of her flight suit. She began to undue the buttons in which she revealed the black tank top underneath. All the while, Tech studied her carefully as her nimble fingers worked steadily. His pupils dilated behind those goggles of his.

Upon reaching her waistline, Y/n had stopped unbuttoning and shrugged the suit off her shoulders. She tied the sleeves around her waist. She dropped to her knees to continue working without the distraction of her clothes getting in the way.

Slowly, Tech raised his hand to the side of his head and clicked the bottom to save the recording to the drive. He records everything and he was certainly glad he recorded that. He wanted to revisit the recording later for his own 'research' purposes.

"There," Y/n sighed. She sat back on her knees, wiping her dirty hands on the pants of her flight suit. "Repairs are finished."

Naturally, Y/n began to pack away the tools she used and placed them back into the box. She closed the lid of the toolbox, tossing it over the edge of the wing for it to land on the ground with a thump. She then proceeded to jump down off the wing of the ship, landing a little hard so her knees buckled slightly.

Just like she promised, Y/n had every intention of leaving the hanger bay so that they'd never have to see her again. She went to walk away, but just as she passed beside him, Tech reached out and grabbed her forearm. She halted in her steps.

Neither of them could look at each other. She felt his gloved fingers digging into her bare skin, but not hard enough that it would leave marks. She slowly turned to look at him, but he kept his head down.

"I...really came here to apologize," Tech confessed. When Tech lifted his gaze to meet her face, he saw how her eyebrows went up in slight surprise. It definitely caught her off guard.

"I see," Y/n thought about his words carefully. She shifted her balance from one foot to the other. "So all those things you said back on Cassander where just...what?"

He closed his eyes, seriously regretting everything he said. "Like I said earlier, in the moment, I was incredibly frustrated with you."

"Because I wouldn't give up the controls?" Y/n said flatly.

"No, because I recognize that my levels of dopamine are elevated when I'm around you and I distance myself from you in order to prevent that from happening,” Tech confessed before he could even stop himself.

But now, hearing what he just said, Tech quickly averted his gaze away from her. He was thankful to be wearing his helmet so she wouldn't see how bright his cheeks had gotten. He released his grip on her arm, letting it fall back down to his side.

For once, Y/n actually understood what he said. Her eyebrows rose in surprise at this sudden confession. She definitely did not expect him to blurt out his emotions that night, especially after their fight on the ship. She knew better than to tease him at a time like this.

"I-I don't understand why," Tech said rather sadly. That was the first time that he'd spoken those words out loud.

What broke her heart was the tone of defeat laced with his words. It told her that he'd been wrestling with these foreign emotions and thoughts for some time. He didn't know how to react around her and so he acted with defense. He pushed those feeling away, fighting against it.

Hesitantly, Y/n lifted her hands to the sides of his helmet. She went to remove his helmet slowly, revealing his face to her for the first time today. She tossed the helmet to the side without a care in the world, but he still refused to meet her gaze.

"You are probably repulsed by me," Tech began. "From the way I treated you and the words I said to--"

But Tech wasn't able to finish that sentence. Because Y/n had taken his face in her hands and leaned upwards to press her lips against his own. He froze in his place.

His eyes were wide open in surprise. His hands were elevated on either side of him because he didn't know what to do with them. He could feel the softness of her lips still against his own. Before Tech had the chance to process what was happening, Y/n pulled away from him.

The two of them were standing so close together; the chests being pressed against one another's. Their breath mingled as their noses bumped together once or twice. He glanced down at her lips because he wanted nothing more than to taste them once more.

His hands found their way down to her hips with one hand sneaking around her lower back. He pressed that hand into her back which brought her body even closer to his. She released a small gasp.

"Apology accepted," Y/n whispered to him. She played with the edge of the plastoid armor on his chest. "And I'm sorry for the way I acted towards you."

"Why cyare?" Tech wondered. He raised his hand to the side of her face, tucking a single strand of hair behind her ear. He held his hand against her cheek.

"I should have given up the controls. You are the better pilot and it is your ship," Y/n explained with a shake of the head.

"I am not the better pilot," Tech stated firmly.

There was a moment of silence between them. "I can't make split second decisions and calculations like you do when you're flying."

"Well, I've never done the Kessel Run." Tech argued back playfully. He smiled down at her. "At least, not in twelve parsecs."

"Fourteen," Y/n corrected him. "I did it in fourteen."

"Fine. Fourteen," Tech caved in.

Slowly, Tech tilted his head to the side and began to lean down with every intention of kissing her again. But the two of them were interrupted when someone cleared their throat over by the entrance of the hanger bay. The two of them quickly pulled apart and turned to face whoever had interrupted them.

The other members of the Bad Batch stood looking at them near the entrance of the hanger. It was initially Hunter who had cleared his throat to garner their attention; he stood with his arms folded across his chest just as a disapproving father would. Beside him, Wrecker and Omega were practically squealing with each other. They couldn't contain their excitement. And Echo averted his gaze in an awkward manner.

"Care to explain yourselves?" Hunter hinted. He glanced between the two of them with a playful smirk on his face.

"I think they finally confessed that they like each other," Wrecker interrupted. His words coming out louder than anticipated. He nudged Echo who stood beside him.

"You think?" Echo glanced at him.

"It's exciting, isn't it?" Omega smiled at them.

Meanwhile, Tech quickly collected his helmet off the ground and placed it over his head once again. He hoped it would cover the blush creeping up his neck to his face. He knew he wouldn't hear the end of the taunting from his brothers anytime soon.

"Well boys. It looks like we got another member on our crew," Hunter said slowly. "Welcome to the Bad Batch."

[hotdamnhunnam]

On Your Knees

A/N: So as I noted in this teaser thingy, I don’t really intend to be back on tumblr actively, BUT I just couldn’t resist writing for Kai!! This fic will be smutty, while also providing a bit of backstory that I feel he needs and deserves honestly. I fucking love this guy 💗

Pairing: Kai x F!Reader Warnings: smut (p in v, oral), swearing, dom!Kai, dirty talk (but it’s not until Part 2 that shit gets degrading and dark) Word Count: ~3.8k

“On your knees.”

It’s been forever and a day, since you last laid your eyes on Kai. Since then you’ve searched for him across the whole entire fucking sky. Whatever words you had expected him to say… you never would have dreamt of these.

On your knees.

The blood in your veins is on fire; it burns as the blue of his gaze starts to freeze. The blaze rises higher, so desperate to melt down this fortress of ice that you hadn’t believed you would find. Paid the rumors no mind—he’s a bounty hunter or a gun for hire, who would sell his soul to any well-paying buyer, or so everybody agrees—yet you’ve come here to seek out the true heart of gold that you know lies behind. But all gold can be sold and it seems that he’s taken his fees.

And now he’s set on taking whatever he damn well may please.

Your voice escapes your throat pathetically. “Kai, it’s me…”

Cocks his head. Lifts his brow. Silent laughter at what you just said. Obviously. But who you are doesn’t mean shit to him now. “Aye, I see.”

You might just choke. The heart that never once stopped beating for this godforsaken rogue just fucking broke.

He snickers down as if the beating of your heart is just a joke. The curl of those cruel lips holds even more force than his words. And that’s what brings you to your knees and makes you weak, so weak it hurts, as he comes close and rests his palm against your cheek, piercing your soul straight to the core with just one stroke.

Straight to the core. Summon what strength you have to speak, unsure whether the vows that you once made have any value anymore. “I’ve come back to you just as I swore…”

“Of course,” he utters as those ice-blue eyes seek out and strike the deepest truth in yours. “You’ve come to me just as you were before: still nothing but a worthless fucking whore.”

***************

--- Years Earlier ---

“Impressive.”

You smile over your shoulder as he comes up from behind to wrap his arms tightly around you, in a warm embrace that’s all at once affectionate and aggressive. Passionate and possessive. Just as his touch is every night when he pins you to bed and pounds you.

Kai is wildly impressed to see you standing tall at the helm of this ship where he’s found you. The ship is in shambles and beaten down, long since abandoned here out on the plains past the outskirts of town. Still the grandeur of spacefaring vessels like this never fails to astound you. The freedom that they represent gives you hope that someday you and Kai might escape from this planet that’s bound to the rule of a ruthless imperial crown.

Yet this starship is broken and dead. It feels good to stand here for a bit and pretend you can steer it—steer something for once in your life so that you can cling onto what little is left of your spirit, forge on towards the future instead of just having to fear it… but you know it’s best not to let false hope get to your head.

“You’d make a fetching pilot, love,” Kai purrs into your ear while he plants kisses on the soft skin of your neck. “So fucking hot I think you might stir up the engine of this wreck. Won’t be surprised if you just up and fly it off.”

The laughter on your lips melts into his, as you lean back to taste his kiss. “I wish I could. The two of us would fuck shit up in space so good.”

“Aye, that we would.”

For now Kai is more than content to fuck you up against the window of this spacecraft and you both know that’s exactly what’s in store. Know you were put upon this planet just to serve him as his filthy little whore. On any planet you would always be just that and nothing more.

Through the layers of both of your clothes you can feel the thick length of his shaft, pressed up against your lower half. Desperate hands reach into his pants to set him free and grasp at every perfect inch of him that you exist to worship and adore.

“Impressive,” you echo his words from before.

He chuckles in that playfully suggestive, sinful way that always hits you in the slick heat of your core. The man knows he’s massive. He wields his cock like a damn weapon of war.

But with you it’s a war fought for love and he makes it so pure.

It’s just unfathomable to you that this man is fucking yours.

You’ve only ever been to this small corner of the vast expanse of space, yet when you look upon his face, you have no doubt that he’s the most beautiful man in all the universe.

As ever in his presence you’re tempted to fall on your knees. It’s your favorite position: to kneel before him in submission. To swallow his cock till he fills your throat with his delicious release. Kai knows this but is ever the tease. He knows just what you’re wishing, but holds you up right where you are to prevent you from sinking so he can keep kissing your lips, one hand gripping your hips, while the other roams over the parts of your body that nobody else ever sees.

“K-Kai please…”

“What is it you want?” he sadistically taunts, and then animalistically grunts, as he feels the wetness of your cunt.

You can’t speak, at the touch of his fingers exploring the treasures they seek.

So he feeds you the words. “This big cock in that sweet little mouth of yours?”

“Yes—please, yes…!” you gasp, heightening his desire as well as your own as you handle his hardness with long strokes and squeezes, loving how it throbs in your tightening grasp.

Kai loves making you plead, getting off on the way that you moan for him over and over again. Till he’s ready to finally provide what you need. Ready now then he reckons. A wicked smirk crosses his mouth and it threatens to end you this second. “Indeed. Since you’re beggin’.”

At last then he lets you sink down to the floor, where you instantly bury your face in his crotch and start slobbering madly all over his cock because this is what you fucking live for.

He smells and tastes simply divine. Better than any man fucking should. Smash your nose in the fine golden hairs at the base of his dick and get drunk on his scent like it’s wine… swipe your tongue up the length in a sensuous line…God it’s good. The salt and sweetness and the musk with earthy undertones of wood. You know nothing of what gods exist in this world or the next, other than being certain that Kai is a living breathing god of sex.

His fingers tangle in your hair, pulling you closer into him and holding you right fucking there. It’s heaven when he plows your throat. No other feeling could compare. You reach to clutch at the firm muscles of his ass and meet his blue gaze as you eagerly wait for him to unravel and explode. The twinkle in his eye reminds you that you’re his and that he never wants to share, just as he’s yours and no one else deserves the privilege to take his precious load.

You take it down with your cheeks hollowed, throat contracting tight around him as he groans in utter bliss. Your love for him deepens with every drop you’ve swallowed, since the day when you first met and every day and night that’s followed. Didn’t think it would be possible to love him more than this. To be so cock-drunk and so lovestruck… fuck, it’s glorious.

Your worship of him always takes him somewhere far beyond the stars. So fucking far. He loves the whore you are, just as you love the whore he is. The kind of love that heals as deeply as it scars. You’re only whores for one another which is why the love you make is always pure no matter how dirty it is.

He worships you in turn, that filthy mouth on him a fire-breathing sin. Making you burn. Laying his claim to every last inch of your skin and every fiber of your being deep within. Your impulse is to be down on your knees for him but when the man insists on pleasuring your cunt—because for him your pleasure’s always at the forefront—well of course you just give in.

And then he fucks your cunt to pieces to make sure you won’t ever forget that his sex is the reason you’re living.

You can’t begin to wrap your mind around him being so damn perfect. But you sure as hell can wrap your pussy tight around the war weapon that’s pumping deep inside of you so powerfully erect. Both of you like it good and rough, and soon enough, this stranded spaceship’s not the only thing that’s wrecked.

The vessel tilts a little bit with his last thrust; this ship is huge but so is Kai, and he’s apparently so strong that he just rocked the goddamned deck. That shit is so insanely hot you might just die. Combust. Crumble to dust. As you both come down from the high, your pulse is racing and he traces its pace with his parted lips pressed to your neck.

The two of you remain entwined for hours, as you always do. Whispering sweet nothings that you wish could be true. Let’s just pretend this ship is ours. That the universe is ours. That we’ll fly away, and soar the skies someday, just me and you. But nothing is nothing regardless of how sweet it seems, and you can’t fly away from the fact that the universe bows to formidable powers. To forces that devastate dreams, through and through.

To the powers that be. Powers that crush all hopes of ever being free or being happy.

Kai reads your mind as your thoughts drift to that dark place. Knows that it’s time to tell you what he came to say, when he found you aboard this ship today, before he got distracted and ended up fucking your brains out past the farthest reaches of space. It’s not a message that he’s eager to convey. But it’s an order that you can’t really afford to disobey.

Still he wants you to stay, blue eyes begging you to as he softly caresses your face. Yet he knows on some level that dreams of resistance are silly to chase. That the price of just one slice of heaven is steep and there’ll be hell to pay.

He clears his throat and breathes in deep, wishing the price weren’t so damn steep. “Meant to tell you that he’s been… requesting your presence again.”

You had known to expect this. Chosen to neglect this. As if you could run to some empty abandoned starship to hide from the constant demands of that monster who thinks he’s a god among men.

But you can’t and to even attempt this… is useless and reckless. Though Kai referred to the imperial officer’s order as just a request, it was obviously a command. So you stand, smooth your skirt with a trembling hand—knowing Kai wishes he could hold on to you now and protect what is rightfully his—but your honor is yours to defend. No one else’s. All yours in the end.

He knows this too but wishes he didn’t. He hates this part. Watching you leave is the part when he cages his heart, locking it in a block of cement. “So you’ll just run off to him then?”

All too familiar with his defense mechanisms, you don’t halt your rhythm. The whole fiasco of this moment is always the same with him, despite the fact that he must know this isn’t something either one of you enjoys. So rather than rushing to blame him, or letting the swell of emotions inside you erupt into violence, you cast him a side glance, remind him in silence: it’s not as if I have a choice.

Evidently today the cement is much thicker than usual; the next words off his lips at your lack of response come off particularly cruel. “What, lost your dignity and your voice?”

God, he knows how to hit your inner slut, and make her want to die. To bleed her dry. His name escapes your throat in a defeated sigh. “Kai…”

He hates himself right now more than that monstrous fucking officer or anyone at all. Down to his core. Your knees just buckled and he rushes to catch you before you fall, but he’s so broken now himself that you both end up on the floor, down on your knees. The words he’d just uttered were driven by demons he’s struggling to bury—lately there have been a whole lot of these. Pulls you in close and releases his heart from its stone wall, as he dissolves into a mess of regrets and apologies. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Inevitably you end up making love, which is the only answer when words aren’t enough. Soft and slow. But it has to end quickly, because you have somewhere to be. Can’t hold on to the afterglow. Leave before tears overflow. Just a few words then you have to go.

You wish Kai could see things from your point of view. He gives you every reassurance that he gets it; his response earlier was impossibly harsh but he clearly regrets it. Still you can’t help but feel as if he’s disappointed in you. Despite how authoritative the Imperium is and the consequences that are sure to ensue if you stand up against it… he sees your obeying the officer’s orders as something you’re making the choice to do.

And that view baffles you because how could you possibly choose to do something that fucking destroys you?

The officer knows all your weaknesses. If you should ever defy him he’d go after Kai, to hit you where he knows it would hurt you the most and you can’t stand to think or to speak of this. You’d rather die. And your fear of that terrible punishment forces your hand; you must heed his command. Without having to spell this shit out you just wish Kai would understand why.

“I understand,” he says, but he can’t meet your pleading gaze. He’s not quite certain whether what he said is true, and surely you would see right through. Instead looks out the spacecraft window at the distant stars that deign to cast their rays upon this conquered stretch of land. It feels like pity and that shit infuriates him in a million fucking ways. “I understand, I do. It just kills me to think of someone else inside you—”

“Kai, I’ve told you time and time again to trust me that he hasn’t…”

“That’s not even what I meant.”

“It’s what you said.”

With worlds of pain behind his plaintive eyes he reaches out to cup your cheek then smooths his thumb across the creases in your forehead. “What I meant is that I just can’t shake this sense that he’s gotten inside your head. To men like that nothing is sacred. He’s attracted to your spirit ‘cause he knows that he can break it. Wants to wait for you to give your body to him though it’s well within his power to just take it. And whatever little honor you’ve got left down to the final fucking shred… he won’t stop till it’s fucking dead.”

His warning chills you to the bone, because you know it to be true. For better or worse you’ve got some defense mechanisms of your own. Just a few. Brush off his touch and clench your jaw and let a little bit of spite sharpen your tone. “So then what would you have me do? Not all of us can be as honorable as you.”

Now his jaw clenches too. So hard that he might be at risk of breaking it. “The choice is yours, of course,” he mutters, eyes flashing an icy shade of blue. “Just know you’re making it. Don’t hide behind the lie your hand was forced.”

At that you turn to leave him with a scoff, throwing a bitter glare that tells him to fuck off.

But just before you disembark, you catch a glimpse of some metallic thing that glimmers in the dark. The mess of clothes that Kai had flung off of his shoulders when he fucked you up against the window, some hours ago… he’d had a gun tucked in among them and the sight of it right now is fucking stark. You have no reason to be shocked about it though.

He wasn’t hiding it from you; the fact that he’s been packing unauthorized arms is something you already knew. That doesn’t mean it’s something you wanted to know. Seeing this fatal metal thing strikes you as such a blunt reminder of what he intends to do. And you know where it’s bound to go.

Where your gaze and your thoughts wander his always follow. “There’s a strategy session set up for tomorrow,” he states in reference to the folks in your town who believe independence is something that any respectable person would die to defend. Even if it means battling forces against which they can’t even try to contend. “May be able to make concrete plans now that we’ve finally got enough guns stashed in our secret cargo. I already know better than to ask whether you’d want to attend. Guess the answer will always be no.”

The two of you have talked about this countless times before. And every time it turns to fucking when you both can’t bear the talking anymore. It’s irresponsible and immature, but in the rosy throes of youth, it seems to you love is the only fucking truth, the only thing you know for sure. The only thing that’s clear and pure. Love keeps you whole so you don’t fall apart from fear of what your hopeless-looking future has in store.

But you’re not that young, and you can’t just fuck away these pressing issues for that long. He can’t just kiss you to prevent the words from falling off your tongue. He knows it too and so you sit and talk for once and hope shit doesn’t go too wrong.

You admire and love him for being so brave and so strong. Tell him so. But that small band of big-hearted rebels is not somewhere you feel you’ll ever belong. He has to let it go.

And you have to let go of your hope that he might change his mind. That he might decide doing what makes sense to simply survive matters more than misguided delusions of honor chasing after some kind of freedom he won’t ever find.

You tenderly caress his face and feel the warmth of his blood rush to meet your hand. It’s all that you can do to pray his precious blood won’t spill someday fighting a war over some worthless stretch of land. This lovely planet is your home but in your eyes it’s all worth nothing without Kai. “I know how fiercely you believe in your brothers, and in your friends. In the rebellion that all of you have planned. What terrifies me is this feeling that it’s fucking doomed to fail and if you die… I can’t fathom anything worse. Of course I know the choice to fight with them is yours, but for my part I’m not as brave as all the others. I can’t bring myself to stand behind this cause when I’m afraid it won’t be worth it in the end. Please understand.”

Kai leans into your touch and turns his face to kiss your palm, cracking a sad smile to fight the tears that otherwise would come. Unshed they shine like stars hiding behind his eyes so blue. “Aye, I do.”

It’s a lie. Lie as big as the sky. But he hides behind it till it might become true, or at least fucking tries to.

At that it’s time for you to go, fearing that you should have done so hours ago. The sheer pressure of fear shatters you; fact is deep down it shatters him too. He just copes with his hopes and fears in a more complicated way.

“I promise I will always come back to you.” These are the same words that you always say, when you leave—words you fiercely believe—to assure him that nothing could keep you away.

When you leave him with those words Kai usually lets you, eventually once he’s done venting all his pent up rage and dealing every card he has to play. But evidently not today. “You wouldn’t have to. If you’d just stay.”

The way his voice trembles with gentleness, with selflessness, as he abandons every one of his defenses… it fucking kills you when he gets this way. It doesn’t happen often, and it always makes your heart open and soften. “That’s true. Maybe I can keep him waiting just one day…”

His eyes go wide, unable to believe that this is something you would actually decide. It makes him love you even more and suddenly he’s shy and blushing as if he thinks he’s unworthy of the privilege of your touch. “Or just one hour or one minute for I ought to know I shouldn’t ask too much—”

You shut him up with your forefinger pressed against his luscious lip. Provocatively bite your own to make it known that you want him to spend all day fucking you up against this ship.

Last time he did it shook the whole entire deck; maybe this time the sex will be so fucking hot that it’ll set fire to this wreck. Wouldn’t put anything past Kai. It’d be a perfect way to die.

Slamming your back against the window of this wrecked dreadnought, he effortlessly reads your every thought—goddamn that thought just now was a particularly bold one—and from his wicked smirk it’s plain to see that he agrees it would be perfect and insanely fucking hot. “You might want to hold on.”

And you do, clinging closely to him like the sky clings to stars at the coming of dawn. In the bright glare of day they’ll no longer shine through. But that won’t mean they’re gone.

Here tonight, and even if they’re out of sight, come morning light… all the stars in his eyes shine for you. With those stars guiding you, you’ll hold on.

***************

… To be continued in Part 2!

The plan is for Part 2 to explore more of the earlier timeline and also carry forward the opening scene of course, which is when dark degrading dom!Kai will be out in full force 🔥

If you’d like to be added or removed from the taglist for this fic (below), just let me know! Much love to all of you 💖

Masterlist

Taglist for this fic (based on responses to the teaser) – @midnightbabylon @rayslittlekitten @pikapuff-316 @youflickedtooharddamnit @laurfilijames @okin-awa @lovebittenbyevans @jmamas92 @theliterarybeldam @dirtytomatoedwrites @ughdontbeboring @netflix-imagines

[djarincore]

Hello! I saw requests were open and thought you may like this prompt

Imagine reader was in some way, shape, or form really good at flying a ship. It doesn't matter what kind it is, they can fly it. And din and reader are being chased by pirates or something like that, and the reader takes over flying while din goes off to do something, and all of a sudden their doing Barrel rolls and death drops making all the cargo fly everywhere (it would be hilarious if this is new information to din and he didnt know reader could do this)

This is just a silly little thought i had. You can add onto it and change it however you like (if you could add like mild tension of any kind i would be very grateful!) Love ya!

-H

TAGS: slight angst, injury mention, misunderstandings?, happy ending

A/N: hi H!!!! I loved this request and I'm sorry it took so long. I got sucked into the dragon age rabbit hole and just managed to crawl out after finishing origins lol hope you enjoy it!!!

—

Din’s breathless voice came through the com, “Get the ship started.”

You could tell he was running from the sound of blaster fire. Another failed bounty, you could only assume, for the third time in a row.

Things weren't looking so good for the two of you. Your partnership with the bounty hunter started with Grogu, getting him to the Jedi safely, and with Grogu gone now, things were tense. You didn't know where your partnership stood anymore, what it meant now that the mission was done.

You bring the engine to life with the flip of a few switches absentmindedly.

When you heard the clamoring of boots against steel, you shot up from the pilot seat and took your place in the co-pilot seat. Din came in seconds later, sliding into the pilot seat and getting the ship in the air.

“Hurt?” you muttered, fingers twitching in your lap as you await an answer.

He didn't respond, but his fingers curled around the wheel.

“I don't think they're following us. I’ll be back.”

He slipped out of the chair, switching into autopilot, and the door with a slight limp, disappearing down the ladder.

You sighed. He always lets you patch him up, at least before. Was it really time to move on? Was this his way of telling you he didn't need you anymore?

In your wandering thoughts, you failed to notice the tailing ship until shots blasted past the wings of the ship. Your mind and body jolted into action, slipping into the captain's chair.

Sharp, calculated maneuvers had the ship diving and twisting to avoid being shot.

You could hear the clamor of things in the cargo hold being thrown around, including Din. He was cursing, grunting, being shoved against the cramped walls of the hold.

Eventually, you managed to lose the pirates once again, settling back into the pilot's seat and hearing Din clamor back up the ladder into the cockpit.

“What the hell were you doing?” Din snapped, spinning your chair around.

His tone made you bristle. “Saving our asses. Those pirates were on us,” you retorted.

“Yes, but your piloting was reckless. You should've called me.”

“Sorry if I'm a little rusty,” you huffed. You hadn't been able to practice your piloting skills since Din always flew. It was his ship after all, and you were always busy with Grogu to chip in. “If you don't like my piloting, then I'll go. Seems like lately, you don't need my help with anything. So, what am I still doing here?”

There it was. The topic you'd been too afraid to broach. Your throat tightened, and suddenly you realized the fatigue in your muscles pulling your body to the ground.

You're glad you don't have to see his face. The silence is enough. You had to go.

“I'm going to bed. I'm sure you’ve got this handled.” You left the pilot seat and brushed past him.

—

Sleep didn't come easy which was why you could hear Din approaching your cot. He paused at your bedside, and you could feel his gaze on your back.

You turned over and looked at him with narrowed eyes, waiting for him to speak up.

“I didn't know you knew how to pilot,” he started, easing down onto one of the crates. You picked up on the faint hiss he let out and the way his body slumped to one side.

“Well, you don't know a lot about me.” You didn't mean for it to come out so harsh, but maybe it's a truth the both of you needed to hear. When you reflected on your journey together, neither of you had ever been open to one another. As someone who only ever had themselves to rely on, being vulnerable was foreign to you. Now you were losing Din because of it.

Just when your chest started to constrict, he finally said just enough for you to hear, “I'd like to.”

Your eyes widened, your mouth moving to speak, but the words were lost. In reality, you didn’t know how to say you wanted that too.

“I don't want you to leave. We… work well together,” he confessed.

You sat up, heart hammering in your chest as you stared at him, and nodded. “Okay, I'll stay.”

There were a lot of things the two of you had to work on, but you were glad this wasn't the end.

[vaulthunterlands]

BORDERLANDS COLLEGE AU

Stupid idea I had a few nights ago, don't think too hard about the inconsistencies in ages and stuff. Probably just doing Vault Hunters and a few other characters.

ROLAND

Majoring in cybersecurity. Good student, studies and gets consistently high grades. Has a well-formulated meal and workout plan. Also an RA on campus. Roland is the guy you go to if you have issues. He might not be great at "talking you through them" or "showing empathy" but he always has solid advice and is well-respected by his peers.

BRICK

I was going to say "Brick wouldn't go to college in canon" but this isn't canon babeyyyy. Brick is going into veterinary medicine. You may think this is completely off as a major for him, but I argue that his love for dogs is far greater than any challenge he may face in his education. Still a gym maniac. Roland is his RA, which means Roland is in charge of calming Brick down when he gets mad. Dating Mordecai. Also, unrelated but Brick in a philosophy class:

"Brick, can you tell us what you think about what Descartes said?"

"I PUNCH Descartes."

LILITH

Y'all are going to hate me for this but Lilith is a chemistry major. Girl loves fire, electricity, and acid so you can't tell me she wouldn't be a menace in her labs. (Also, before the first game was released her full title was "Dr. Lilith Cashlin, Mercenary Scientist") Only goes to class half the time but still does really well. Rooms with Mordecai and Brick. Huge crush on this RA she keeps seeing around

MORDECAI

BIRD MAAAAAN. Y'all already know this guy is doing two things on campus. 1) Majoring in Ornithology 2) Going to parties to get drunk. This man is the epitome of "college is for partying". Keeps birds in campus (not allowed) and is doing okay in his classes (he is hung over 80% of the time) (Mordy pls) Dating Brick.

PATRICIA TANNIS

Honestly, what field of science ISN'T this girl majoring in? She's insane(ly smart) and constantly gets perfect scores on all of her exams. Closest friends are Roland and the gang.

MARCUS

Why is he here??? What??? Marcus is the guy who runs the restaurant that is directly across the street from campus. *Phenomenal* food, but GOD is it pricey. Tends to not care about many of the students chilling (as long as they BUY SOMETHING)

SCOOTER

Doesn't go to this college but he's good friends with Roland and his pals. Likes to go out drinking with them on the weekends and is just all-in-all a cool guy to hang around with. Friends with Janey.

AXTON

BMOC. Captain of the football team. You can trust him! (He's the water boy.) Total jock but he's not an asshole about it. Majoring in Rehabilitation Science. He's... not the *best* student, but he does try and genuinely care about what he wants to do. Lives with Salvador, Maya, and Zer0 in a dorm.

SALVADOR

Culinary major. My man can COOK. He's the best cook in the dorm and no one will ever argue if he offers to cook. Really good student even though he parties all the time with Mordecai, Brick, and Axton. Lives with Maya, Axton, and Zer0.

ZER0

*Insert weeb joke here* They're a literature major. Not just because of the haiku, either. I feel like Zer0 would be fantastic in literature courses and understanding thr deeper meanings in texts. They are seen as a "weird kid" on campus. They do not care. Lives with Maya, Salvador, and Axton.

MAYA

The reason I made this list (big surprise, V does a huge post and it's Maya's fault), Maya majors in entomology. (S/O to @forbiddenpurplesoda for this because I've always thought Maya would be a bug girl) Maya is a phenomenal student and she always gets great marks in her studies. Lives with Axton, Sal and Zer0. Has at least one pet beetle that makes Axton panic.

GAIGE

Mechanical Engineering/Robotics major. Obviously built Deathtrap as a buddy because she felt a little lonely in her dorm. Calls her Dad every night. Has a huge crush on a girl in one of her math classes. Lives with...

KRIEG!!!!

Listen. Listen. Krieg majors in psychology. The *actual* football captain. Doesn't talk much and when he does, it's complete nonsense. (Everyone just goes "haha classic Krieg") Gaige gets along with him extremely well. Maya and him have a thing where they will just look at each other and think "holy shit they're so gorgeous). Always wears a face mask.

TINA

Child prodigy chemistry major, buddies with Lilith and Roland. But seriously, who let this kid in the lab? Like, okay, yeah, she knows what she's doing, but what she's doing is COMBUSTION REACTIONS. How is she still in school.

ELLIE

Engineering major. Lives in the building across from Roland and the gang. Absolute sweetheart and huge flirt but will also drop you on her ass if you threaten her friends.

MOXXI

I could see Moxxi as a professor of engineering, actually. Every student thinks she's gorgeous and she's learned to ignore it. Scooter and Ellie's Mom. Thinks their friends are funny.

HANDSOME JACK

Oh man, this one was tough. I decided on absolute tool you meet in college who's the head of a frat and thinks he's God's gift to women. Lives in the same building as Roland, Lilith, Brick, Mordecai, Salvador, Axton, Maya, Zer0, Gaige, and Krieg. Constantly getting into arguments with... basically everyone listed above. Majors in business.

ANGEL

She's an art major!!! She's super intelligent and aces all of her classes but she absolutely loves art. Jack is her brother in this AU. Has a crush on the cute punk girl in her math class but could never tell her. Lives in a single.

ALISTAIR HAMMERLOCK

Double majors in conservation biology and zoology! Finds the creatures that he studies absolutely fascinating and always has a bright disposition on his face. Lives in a single that looks exactly like you think it does (his room on Sanctuary III). Strained relationship with his sister.

ATHENA

Acient History Major, specifically interested in Ancient Greece (wonder why?). Works at Marcus' restaurant. Hates it. Pay her more. Has her eyes on a girl that frequents Marcus' restaurant. Tried to live with Wilhelm, Jack, Nisha, Timothy, and Claptrap for a semester, she is now a commuter. Still friends with Timothy.

WILHELM

Jack's second-in-command. People look at him like he's a dumbass, big hunk of meat, but he's also in a robotics major. Aside from being buddies with Jack, he's... kind of chill? Man likes what he likes and he works out pretty often. Boxes in his free time. Lives with Nisha, Jack, Timothy, and (formerly) Claptrap.

NISHA

Criminal justice major, naturally. Jack's girlfriend and the baddest and scariest bitch on campus. Likes watching old western movies. Never, ever shows up to class but still passes. No one knows how. Lives with Jack, Timothy, Wilhelm, and (formerly) Claptrap

CLAPTRAP

Theater major! Always has a smile on his face, even though he's nooooot very well-liked. Tried to get in with the popular guys but eventually figured out he was being used. He confronted Jack and Jack kicked him out of the dorm 😔 Lives... well, he kind of just lives around Roland's dorm. Roland's too nice to say no.

TIMOTHY

I feel like Tim would be a Biology major. I don't know why but I can see him in that field. Looks SCARILY similar to Jack, and hates this. Unfortunately put into a room with Jack, Wilhelm, Nisha, and (formerly) Claptrap. Misses Athena greatly and wishes she still lived on campus. They're still good friends.

AURELIA HAMMERLOCK

Oh good lord, who let her on a college campus. Has an extravagant single room because she's *rich* and she's not sharing with someone else are you insane? Studies law because this bitch wants to be a judge someday. Absolutely hates to be seen with her brother Alistair. Rivalry with another rich law student makes this even more tense.

JANEY SPRINGS

Doesn't go to this college but she knows a few people around campus and hits up Marcus' restaurant for a bite to eat every so often. The food is just so good, right? No other reason. None at all. Friends with Scooter.

RHYS STRONGFOK

Rhys is a business and economics major. Is in Jack's frat. Is getting increasingly sick of Jack's shit. Buddy buddy with Vaughn, Fiona, and Zer0. Dating Sasha.

VAUGHN

Accounting major. Man has a mind like a steel trap, and also enjoys bodybuilding. Best friends with Rhys, good friends with Fiona and Sasha.

FIONA

I genuinely feel like Fiona would be a nursing or Healthcare major. I have no basis for this, it just feels right for her. Hates Jack and keeps telling Rhys to tell him to fuck off. Friends with Rhys and Vaughn, Sasha's older sister.

SASHA

Social work major! Loves helping people and wants to make a change in the world after she and Fiona grew up in less-than-ideal circumstances. Dating Rhys, also keeps telling Rhys to get away from Jack. Friends with Vaughn.

MOZE

Transfer student. Served in the military for a while before deciding she wanted to go to college. Undecided major but she's just trying to focus on the pretty women I mean her grades haha am I right? ALWAYS at Marcus'. Always. Lives with Zane, Amara, and FL4K.

FL4K

FL4K has Mr. Chew, Broodless and Meat-Thief as emotional support animals. I can see FL4K as a double major in zoology and veterinary medicine. Loves their pets. Super chill unless you speak badly about them or their pets. Will shank a bitch. Lives with Zane, Moze, and Amara.

AMARA

Healthcare studies major, with a focus on pathology. Also a bodybuilder. Also a boxer. Amara is that girl and she knows it. Always asking Moze to work out with her and she is completely oblivious to Moze being head over heels. Will fight someone being mean to a customer service worker. Lives with Zane, Moze, and FL4K.

ZANE

Pop pop went back to college! No but in this AU Zane is probably older than everyone but not that much older. His major was tough for me, but I honestly think he'd be a good candidate for a major in rehabilitation science with Axton. Also LOVES parties.

WAINWRIGHT JAKOBS

His Father wanted him to go into Business to take over the family legacy but he decided to go into law to "protect the little guy". Has daily arguments with this stuck-up, pretentious "harpy" that's in most of his classes. She's awful. Has a crush on this well-spoken man in zoological studies. At least that will take his mind off of the harpy.

TROY CALYPSO

Troy is a media and communications major. Has a fantastic time making videos and being admin of many social media pages but doesn't do very well in class because he dislikes most of his professors. Has a very close relationship with his sister, Tyreen.

TYREEN CALYPSO

Double major in Art History and Theater. Loves to be the center of attention and often stars in her brother's videos and projects. She loves it. A little full of herself. Close with her brother, Troy.

TYPHON DELEON

OKAY WAIT WAIT DON'T CLOSE THE POST HEAR ME OUT.

Cringe boomer history professor that can be easily distracted by him telling his stories of his many adventures (no one knows if they're true or not). Troy and Tyreen's Father. NOT a piss poor Dad in this AU, just embarrassing as all hell. Pretty decent guy but he's okay as a professor. (Please guys let me have my "Typhon is a good cringe embarrassing boomer dad to the Calypsos" AU)

OKAY this was a really long post and I probably forgot someone but I'm sure I'll hear about it LMAO. Also I don't know every single college major and its appropriate title, I just went off of vibes. Pls be nice 2 me

[dangerpronebuddie]

Fuck It Friday!!

Tagged by @tizniz @inell who both shared AMAZING fics y'all have got to check out and @kitteneddiediaz who's dom Buck wip is giving me LIFE🩵🩷

Made this post, went insane, and started writing. It's not so much speculation as it is just utter nonsense. But I'm having the time of my life! Here's some of the 118 and the 119s first meeting:

Eduardo looks at Buck, and his eyes go wide before turning softer than Eddie thinks is necessary. "He's never going to believe this," Eduardo mutters. "Just... Just hang on a sec, yeah?" He holds up his hands, signaling them to stay put, before dashing back to the 119's engine. "Buckles!" he calls. Eddie and Buck share a look. What is going on?? A man still in his turnouts and helmet hops out of the engine, the jump a touch dramatic for the short distance. Eduardo says something to him, and the man perks up like a... very familiar golden retriever. Eduardo grabs the sleeve of the man's turnout and tugs him along. He removes his helmet as they approach, and something like butterflies stirs in Eddie's middle. Sweat-damp curls fall across his forehead, one curling around a splotchy pink birthmark. Bright blue eyes dart between Eddie and Buck with something like wonder. Eddie is most definitely losing his mind. "Hi," the man says, smiling so wide his eyes crinkle. He extends a hand to Buck first. "Ethan Buckles." "No way," Buck whispers, barley loud enough for Eddie to hear. "Evan Buckley. But uh... everyone calls me Buck." "That's what we should call you," Eduardo says, bumping his shoulder against Ethan's. Eddie swears he feels a phantom sensation against his own shoulder. "In your dreams, Eddie," Ethan says. "Eduardo," he corrects with the same exasperated fondness Eddie uses with Buck. His head is spinning. Maybe he concussed himself in that apartment fire after all. This can't possibly be real. Ethan shakes Eddie's hand next. "I hear I can at least call you Eddie," he grins. "You make it sound like a consolation prize," Eddie quips. "I don't see how you could possibly be a consolation," Ethan says with a smirk, his eyes roaming over Eddie. Eduardo clears his throat at the same time Buck does. "Okay, Buckles, we'd better get back," Eduardo says, shooing Ethan away. "What's the rush?" Ethan asks even as Eduardo turns him. He looks back and winks at Eddie before Eduardo pushes him along. "I don't like that Ethan guy," Buck says with a glare in their direction.

(tags under the cut! As always please let me know if you want to be added/ removed):

@lover-of-mine @loveyouanyway @daffi-990 @kitteneddiediaz

@ronordmann @steadfastsaturnsrings @exhuastedpigeon @hippolotamus

@thekristen999 @monsterrae1 @diazheartsbuckley @wildlife4life @misshiss727

@rainbow-nerdss @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @lunarspark-cos @idealuk @shipperqueen6 @slowlyfoggydestiny @eddiesfagstache

@lin27 @jshadow01 @orangeboxfox92 @thegeekcompanion @emilybahu @lemotmo @awolfnamed-nyx

@kaseysgirl86-blog @darkrose6578 @totallynotagoraphobic @dandelioncasey @bibuckbuckgoose @whatsgoodinthehood22

@lady-elaine @buckley-diaz-rules @buddiedaydreamer911 @monroemary @pirate-hunter @snowviolettwhite

@tofanasmuse @gnoeltop @keynb @cassi-brooks @-syrup-sue @punkrock00 @shannonhutchins @aroqueerfandoms @unlifeira @marissaleec

@nonspeakingkiku @eddiedisasterdiaz @drunkandsupportiveeddie @traumabuddies @epicbuddieficrecs @disasterbuck

[balis77]

Meanwhile, in New Phyrexia...

Ixhel: *Frantically putting Urabrask back together* “Ok, good, you’re awake. Look, you’re the only Praetor with enough parts to put back together, so I’m gonna need you to help me get control of this whole... situation.”

Urabrask: “What happened?”

Ixhel: “The invasion failed and I’m pretty sure we’re permanently cut off from the rest of the multiverse... oh and all the other Praetors died.”

Urabrask: “Serves them right... so what’s the problems here?”

Ixhel: “The Hunters Maze is on fire, the Progress Engine doesn’t even know what to do anymore, the Dross Pits are in complete anarchy, the Quiet Furnace is... kinda the same really, and with Mother and Norn dead the Machine Orthodoxy is under new management and it’s... not going well.”

Urabrask: “Who replaced them? Ivor? Mondrak?”

Ixhel: “Uh...”

*At Elesh Norn’s old statue throne*

Skrelv: *Maniacal laughter*

[autumnwoodsdreamer]

You gotta admit, the start of The Mandalorian was a very weird couple of days for Grogu.

I mean, it all starts with blasterfire in the camp (which, by now, is really nothing new to this kid). But then everything goes still and your relatively safe little pod is opened by a droid and a guy wearing a helmet. You know they were the cause of the blasterfire and they seem to be working together but then the droid tries to shoot you—which, yeah, okay, fair; not the first time this has happened, maybe it’ll be over now—and there’s a shot but not from the droid, no, helmet-guy just took out his partner.

Okay.

That’s… also probably not unusual.

But then. THEN. Helmet-guy tilts his head and holds out a finger in a way people do for babies they want to interact with, not targets they’re gonna bring in. So you reach back because, hey, this guy seems kinda nice.

You leave together and it’s a really long way. You get ambushed and attacked by more hunters and helmet-guy protects you. You carry on. Helmet-guy is NOT a talker. But that’s cool; you don’t talk either.

You see he’s hurt. He’s been pretty nice so far and, hey, he got hurting protecting you. Only fair you heal him. But you keep trying and he keeps putting you back in your pod and, again, the fact neither of you talk is a problem. Whatever. He can suffer; he won’t die.

You get to his ship and, yikes. What a dump. It’s such a mess. And there’s scavengers picking it all apart, making helmet-guy furious. Helmet-guy tries to chase them, I mean, actually chase them. He’s just one little man and that’s a big fat tank. What’s he thinking? That he’s just gonna stop it with his bare hands—oh, that does seem to be the strategy. (Starting to think this guy just wings everything he does in life. Like. There is no plan going on here whatsoever.)

Helmet-guy gets electrocuted by about twenty scavengers and falls like six storeys in an unconscious heap. Is he dead? Well. Can’t fix that. It was nice knowing him. Wonder how long until the next—oh, no. He’s okay. He’s sitting up. Okay. We’re back on track.

You go back to his ship and yup. Dump. Wires sparking and whole walls missing. The toilet’s even been pilfered. Yeah, okay, this place probably wasn’t always like this but—what are you doing starting the engines? The ship has holes in it, man. Gigantic, we’ll-get-sucked-out-into-space-and-freaking-die holes!

Another long walk. No talk. At least the sunset’s pretty. Get to a farm run by an old man. Helmet-guy apparently knows old man. Ooh! Frogs! Don’t mind if I do… (“spit that out” yeah right. You’re not the boss of me. You think I’m gonna take orders from a guy that just tried to fight a tank with his bare hands? Think again, buddy.)

Looooong trek through the night and, cherry on top, it’s raining. Not so great, but, hey! More frogs!

You reach the tank helmet-guy unsuccessfully tried to fight the other day. He and the old man start talking to the scavengers. Probably can’t hear what they’re saying, don’t know what the random fire demonstration is meant to accomplish, but when the scavengers start getting too close and too interested in you, helmet-guy shouts at them to get away. That’s nice of him. Scavengers start chanting. Now this is just weird.

Next thing you know, you’re all crammed into the tank—the same tank helmet-guy fought and fell off of. Helmet-guy doesn’t fit inside. He’s mad about this. He’s mad about everything. Scavengers continue chanting.

Tank stops. Helmet-guy takes you with him to a cave. He leaves you outside the cave and he goes in. Is this… is this part of the ritual? Should have brought a frog for the road… didn’t know this was gonna be a whole day affair… aaaaannnnnd now helmet-guy’s flying through the air. Kind of like how he fell off the tank. But faster. (Very throwable, this guy. The galaxy’s soccer ball, if you will.)

Helmet-guy lands in the mud and, boy, does he look like a train wreck. I mean, he’s been getting beat up pretty much every waking minute you’ve known him but this is taking the cake.

Still alive, though.

And moving.

(Seriously. What are his insides made of? Concrete???)

Then there’s roaring and stomping and this gigantic—and I mean GIGANTIC—horned beast comes out of the cave.

Is this what you were doing, helmet-guy? Provoking the dangerous wildlife? Is getting your butt kicked like a hobby for you or something?!?

Horned beast is, of course, rampaging mad and trying to grind helmet-guy into the mud. Helmet-guy is trying not to become mud and at the same time is making sure you’re out of the firing line. Again. Very considerate of him. But this is really not going well… helmet-guy is definitely not gonna survive this unless…

Oh.

What the hey?

Let’s use the Force.

You stop the horned beast and, yeesh, should’a stretched or warmed up or something. This is a lot to do after not tapping into the Force for literal decades. Reeeeeallly hope this works… gonna… pass… out…

And then you wake up, like, who knows how long after. Probably starving.

But, hey! Helmet-guy’s alright! That’s so great—wait, wait, wait… are we in space?!? In the ship without a toilet????!?!?