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corroded-hellfire · 6 months ago

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Mad Love - Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie goes to visit Dustin at college and meets the Harley Quinn to his Joker at a Halloween party

Note: I had this idea because I needed a good Harley and Joker fix after watching the insane disappointment that was Joker 2.

Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), oral, m receiving, alcohol, Harley and Joker are crazy and so is Eddie so what do you expect

Words: 5k

“The party is where?”

“It’s at a house on the edge of campus.”

“A frat house, Dustin. A frat house. How do you even know these guys?”

Dustin sighs and grabs his deerstalker hat.

“I’m tutoring one of the guys who lives there,” he says.

“And this isn’t just some prank?” Eddie asks, a brow raised in skepticism. “Cool frat bro asks his younger, nerdy tutor to come by his Halloween party?”

The shorter man scoffs and shakes his head.

“Clay is a good guy,” Dustin defends. “You think I wouldn’t have been able to sniff out if he was some douchebag bully by now? My asshole detector is accurate, and you know it.”

“Fine.” Eddie picks his purple blazer up from where he laid it over the back of a chair. He slips his arms into it and adjusts it until it’s comfortable. “The music will probably be shit, though.”

“Look dude,” Dustin says, “you don’t have to come if you don’t want to. You can hang out in my dorm. Or one of the dining halls stays open pretty late. Grab some food.”

“Nope,” Eddie says with a shake of his head. His green-tinted curls sway with the motion. “I drove for hours to see your scrawny ass; I’m not going anywhere. Plus, I love Halloween parties.”

“Exactly how many have you been invited to before?”

“Hey, I provided great party favors in high school. I was a welcome sight for the most part.”

“Doesn’t mean ‘invited’...” Dustin mumbles as he adjusts his Sherlock Holmes cloak.

Eddie hears him anyway and knocks the hat off his friend’s head before grabbing the bag of makeup he brought to complete his costume.

Eddie’s first thought when he walks into the frat party is that it looks exactly like every college movie he’s ever seen. Red solo cups are in almost every hand, with a dozen or so already lost or discarded on the hardwood floor. The music is awful, as predicted, and despite the chilly October air, the room feels muggy because of all the bodies crammed inside.

“I don’t know what half these costumes are supposed to be,” Eddie shouts over the thumping bass.

Dustin shrugs in response and the two of them move farther into the room. The deeper into the crowd they get, and the more he looks around, the happier Eddie becomes that he came. Apparently, most college girls like to go for the “slutty” versions of costumes and Eddie can’t say that he minds one bit. A particular girl in a Princess Leia gold bikini catches his eye, but Dustin grabs his arm and drags him towards the stairs before he can even muster up a witty line to say to her.

“Why the fuck did I dress as a clown?” Eddie murmurs to himself.

“Eddie!” Dustin shouts. “This is Clay!”

The older man’s immediate reaction is that this guy looks like a much taller and less douchey Jason Carver. He doesn’t exude the same sense of superiority and holier-than-thou-ness that the Hawkins High basketball player did.

Clay offers his hand to Eddie with a smile.

“Nice to meet you,” he calls above the music. “Dustin has told me a lot about you.”

Eddie shoots Dustin a smirk, to which the faux Sherlock Holmes rolls his eyes.

“Good to meet you, too,” Eddie says, shaking the man’s hand.

“Keg’s over there,” Clay says, gesturing towards the front corner of the open area, “bathrooms upstairs. Have fun!”

“Thanks, man,” Dustin replies.

Eddie feels like his head is on a swivel, looking in every direction at all the girls around him. He’s pretty sure he’s never been around this many girls in his life.

“Come on, Joker,” Dustin says, patting his friend on the back. “Stop looking over your shoulder like Batman is gonna pop out at any second and let's go get a drink.”

“M’not looking for any man, dude,” Eddie says as they head towards the keg. “Besides, you’re not old enough to drink.”

“Ya know, for a villain, you’re pretty uptight. Especially for one who used to sell drugs.”

Eddie shrugs and swipes up a clean solo cup. He opens his mouth to reply as he takes another step towards the keg, but he’s cut off as he almost bumps into someone also going for the tap.

“Whoa! Sorry there, Puddin’.”

Dark brown eyes go from his own black sneakers to black boots with red laces, scan up one red and one black pant leg, a long sleeve top with the colors on the opposite sides, and up to the prettiest face Eddie’s ever seen—even if there’s a black mask over her eyes. The cherry on top is the black and red jester hat with the small white cotton balls on the ends.

“My apologies, darling,” Eddie croons, sketching a bow. “After you.”

The female clown giggles and shrugs her shoulders coyly.

“Thanks, Mister J.” Her voice is sweet and clear, even above the noise of the party.

Dustin doesn’t need to be dressed as Sherlock Holmes to figure out how Eddie is looking at this girl. The college freshman sees the way his friend’s eyes follow every move she makes as she fills her cup with beer.

“I, uh, see a friend from my chem class,” Dustin says, shooting Eddie a sly smirk. “I’ll leave you clowns to it.”

Eddie nods without really listening, eyes never leaving the red and black dream standing in front of him. Once her cup is filled, she steps aside so her villainous counterpart can take his turn.

“Where you been hiding on me, huh?” Harley asks before taking a sip of her beer. “I don’t think I’ve seen you before. Then again, I guess the white paint and red lipstick could disguise anyone.”

“I could say the same to you.” Eddie nods to where she’s left a red lipstick stain on the rim of her solo cup.

“Well, I do have to admit that I’m not quite as outgoing when I’m not hiding behind a pound of makeup and a mask.”

“And I have to admit, I don’t actually go to school here.” Eddie winces before taking a large gulp from his own cup.

“It’s my lucky night, then!” She grins and reaches out, a red glove tugging on a purple lapel to bring him in closer. “Not here visiting a girlfriend, I hope?”

“Nah.” Eddie shakes his head as he leans into her space. “Visiting a nerdy freshman that I took under my wing last time he was a freshman.”

“Sherlock Holmes?” Harley asks. She tilts her head to the side and Eddie can’t help but smile at how it adorably skews her hat.

“That’s him.”

“That’s so cute!”

The keg starts to gather a crowd, so the dynamic duo steps out of the way. Unfortunately, it’s closer to a speaker that has the music blaring in their faces.

“Outside?” Harley mouths, hitching her thumb over her shoulder towards the backyard.

Eddie nods and follows his fellow jester out into the crisp autumn night. Partygoers mingle in varying costumes, conversations able to be heard out here even over the thumping bass flooding out from the house. There aren’t any empty chairs or places to sit, so the pair decide to take a lap around the yard.

“What do you study?” Eddie asks as they walk side by side.

“Psychology,” she replies, giving a small dramatic bow that lets the white pom pom balls on the end of her hat shake back and forth.

“Ah,” Eddie says, raising his eyebrows. “Not just Harley Quinn then, we’ve got Dr. Harleen Quinzel herself.”

“In the flesh,” she says with a cheeky shrug of her shoulders. “Or, well, in the clown suit and makeup, anyway. It’s my last year so I figured it’s time to go all out and have fun. Hence the costume.”

“And I just dress like this regularly,” Eddie jokes, adjusting his purple tie with his free hand. “I’m a natural green head, by the way. None of that dyed shit for me. It’s always so obvious when it’s fake.”

“It goes so well with your deathly pale complexion and naturally thick eyelined eyes,” she says, gesturing to his makeup.

“Don’t forget the au naturale blood red lips,” Eddie adds, puckering them for emphasis.

“Who could forget those lips?” Harley’s eyes darken as she speaks, her gaze drifting down to Eddie’s mouth before coming back up to meet his eyes.

“God, it’s freezing out here,” a girl in a hula skirt and coconut bra complains as she hurries past the clowns with a friend, heading towards the door for the house.

“I’m comfortable,” Harley says, stopping to do a twirl in between steps. “Have no idea why she could be so chilled! They call me crazy, but at least I know to be covered up outside in Indiana in October. Ah, but I suppose that would ruin the sexiness of her costume, wouldn’t it?”

“Well,” Eddie says, not hiding the fact that he’s looking her up and down. He figures he might as well shoot his shot. “You’re literally covered from head to toe, down to your fingertips, and you managed to be the sexiest one here tonight.”

It takes her a moment to recover from the unexpected compliment. Flirting? Okay, she was absolutely doing it too. But Eddie’s words warm her from within and she can feel the heat seeking its only outlet in this costume: her face.

“Aha, but word on the street is that you’re crazy too, Mister J.”

“Maybe crazy, but not blind,” Eddie replies.

She smiles and it makes Eddie’s heart stutter in his chest.

Before Harley gets a chance to open her mouth and reply, the back door of the frat house busts open and a whole gaggle of drunken guys come spilling out.

“Stupid boys,” Harley says, shaking her head. She looks back to Eddie and offers her hand, palm up. “Wanna go for a walk?”

“I’d be delighted.” Eddie’s white gloved hand takes her black gloved hand, and the two intertwine their fingers as they head to the side of the frat house, to walk around to the front.

There are still people streaming into the party. Cars are parked up and down the street and some are clearly circling the block to see where they might be able to squeeze in as well.

Harley leads Eddie across the street and down a side road, away from the chaos of the party.

“So,” she says once they’re far enough away to hear one another easily, “what’s your real name, Joker?”

“Eddie,” he tells her, giving her hand a soft squeeze. “What about you?”

She tells him her name and Eddie can’t help but think how pretty it is.

“But tonight I’m Harley, cause she ain’t as shy as I am,” she says.

“I’m pretty sure Eddie is on the same level of outgoing-ness that Joker is, so I’m good with either,” he says, making her laugh.

The two of them walk towards the heart of campus and come to the point where Eddie actually starts to recognize buildings.

“This is the student center, right?” he asks.

“Yep. The best place to get good on campus, just as a heads up.”

“I will definitely keep that in mind. My buddy says he mostly eats in the East dining hall cause it’s right in front of his dorm building,” Eddie explains.

“That’s the East dining hall right there,” Harley says, pointing to a long one-story building to their right.

“Which makes that Haynes Hall.” Eddie gestures to the looming brick building behind it. “That’s where I’m crashing.”

“Is that so?”

The sultry, suggestive tone goes right to Eddie’s cock.

“Would you, uh, like to see it?” he asks, tilting his head to the side with a small smile.

“You know,” she says, leaning forward to rest her hands on the lapels of his purple blazer, “I lived there back when I was a freshman.”

Eddie feels his heart drop. Was he reading the signals wrong? If so, what does it mean that she has her hands on his chest right now?

“I’m curious to see how it changed over these past three years,” she finishes.

The grin on Eddie’s face is as wide as the one the fictional character he’s dressed up as usually sports.

“Well, let’s not keep you in suspense any longer,” he says.

Harley gladly slips one of her hands into one of Eddie’s and tugs him in the direction of the twelve-story building. As soon as both of their pairs of black shoes are squeaking down the entryway hall down to the elevator, Harley gently pulls her hand away from Eddie’s to yank off the red and black gloves. The Joker follows suit with his own white ones, wanting to be able to hold her hand without any offending material in the way.

Their fingers lace together as if it’s the most natural thing in the world for the pair of them, and Harley jabs the elevator up button with her thumb. The silver doors glide open and as soon as he’s inside, Eddie is pressing the button to Dustin’s floor with urgency, before switching to the button that closes the elevator doors.

The moment the doors slide closed behind them, Eddie backs Harley up against the side wall of the elevator and cages her in by resting his arms against the litany of flyers that have been taped up on either side of her head. Her black mask slowly starts to slip down her nose as she gazes up at him. Eddie lowers his head to hers, his mouth only a breath away. A cheerful ding letting them know they’re on the right floor interrupts the almost-kiss.

Her eagerness is clear with the harsh tug she gives Eddie’s arm to lead him out of the elevator and down the thinly carpeted hall.

“Uh, 802,” Eddie says, scanning the room numbers of every door they pass.

“Oops,” Harley says with a giggle. “We’re going the wrong way.” She does a clumsy attempt at a ballet spin to turn one-eighty degrees and face the other end of the hall.

As soon as Eddie starts to think that they’re never going to find this goddamn room, they turn a corner and skid to a halt in front of the correct door. Eddie digs the extra key that Dustin gave him out of his pocket and slips it into the lock.

The moment they’re inside, Eddie is fumbling for the light since he doesn’t know the layout and can’t blindly lead her to the bed. The last thing he needs is either of them tripping on some textbook and breaking an arm.

Dustin’s bed is pushed against the right side of the wall and Eddie already makes a mental note to beg his younger friend’s forgiveness as he’s either disinfecting or burning the sheets later. Speaking of said younger friend…

Eddie doesn’t have the time or inkling to go digging through Dustin’s drawers to find a sock to hang on the doorknob, so he kicks off his sneakers and yanks at his black socks. One gets tossed to the cluttered floor while Eddie opens the dorm door and puts the other on the doorknob. The universal sign that you better come back later—even if this is your room.

Now Eddie can return his attention to the one place he’d like to keep it tonight: the beautiful jester in front of him.

“Why don’t you take a seat, Puddin’?” Harley coos, patting the edge of the mattress.

He sits down where she instructed and is rewarded with the sight of her kneeling on the floor between his spread legs. Eddie drops one of Dustin’s pillows down on the floor—since the bedding is all going to need to be taken care of anyway—and she gives the man above her a grateful smile.

Bare hands work at the belt holding the purple pants up and Eddie can’t keep his eyes off of them. He admires how soft and smooth they look as her fingers nimbly work. She then pops open his fly and drags down the zipper. Eddie lifts his hips and together the two of them push the pants and his boxers down his thighs. His cock springs free, already hard and begging to be touched. Her eyes immediately land on the precum beading at the head and she licks over her lips eagerly. A soft hum from the back of her throat is the only warning Eddie gets before she takes his length in her hand and immediately begins licking up the side of his shaft.

Eddie’s head drops back with a low groan. One hand falls to the mattress beside him while the other gently rests on the crown of her jester hat. When she takes the head of his cock in her mouth, Eddie clenches the comforter that his hand is resting on in his fist.

“Fuck,” Eddie moans. He tilts his chin forward to look down at the sexy supervillain sucking his dick. The bright red lipstick leaves a ring around Eddie’s cock that he never wants to wash off. He watches her go deeper and deeper each time, the crimson smears getting closer to the dark patch of hair at his base.

When her head begins to pick up speed, bobbing up and down, Eddie knows he needs to stop her before the real fun begins. Gently, he presses against her shoulder, which she is able to interpret and pulls her mouth off his cock with a pop. She looks up at him and her black eye makeup has smeared, smudging beneath her eyes and dark tear trails carving a path down the white face paint—all with the mask still in place.

“You’re too good at that,” Eddie tells her with a breathy chuckle.

“Good thing you stopped me, or I would’ve just kept going,” she says, laying her head down on his thighs and looking up at him with eyes shiny from tears. “And where would the fun be in that?”

“Exactly, darling.”

Eddie helps her up from the floor and she takes a seat on the bed next to him. She watches his every motion as he stands to kick his pants and boxers all the way off. Once he’s finished, she turns so her back is facing him.

“Would you mind unzipping me?” she asks.

“Not one bit.” Eddie leans in and presses a kiss to the side of her neck, which causes a shiver to go down her spine as Eddie drags the pull tab in that same direction.

Harley stands and kicks her boots off before shimmying the bodysuit costume down her frame. Eddie’s eyes make sure to capture every last detail of the reveal. With every new area of skin that’s exposed, it becomes his new favorite. The black lace bra and red lace panties make him chuckle.

“Even in the right colors down to that sinful underwear,” he remarks.

“Thought it was only fitting,” she says with the shrug of one shoulder. She kneels down on the bed and leans forward, working on popping open the buttons, first, on the yellow vest beneath the blazer, and then the mint green shirt below that. “Didn’t think that anyone was actually gonna see me like this tonight, so that makes for a nice surprise.”

“Didn’t think you’d be hooking up with someone with clown makeup on?” Eddie teases as he shrugs out of all his top layers.

“I could ask you the same question, Mister J.”

“Mm,” Eddie hums as he slips his arm around her waist and lowers her down to the mattress. “So we’ll be naked, just clowns from the neck up.”

“You’re already naked,” Harley muses, her eyes running up and down his bare form as he crawls on top of her. “Least you can do is make it even.”

A sound suspiciously close to a growl rumbles from Eddie’s throat before he speaks.

“Gladly.”

She arches her back, and Eddie counts his blessings when he’s able to unhook her bra fairly easily. He helps her get it off her arms and throw it somewhere in the dorm to be found later. Next, she lifts her hips off the mattress and Eddie is able to free her of her panties in one fell swoop.

Calloused fingers run up the outside of soft thighs before he lets them trail down to the part most aching for his touch.

Harley feels on edge—his hand is so close and he can’t move it fast enough. A desperate whimper tumbles from her lips and Eddie can’t help but find it adorably endearing.

“P-Please, Eddie,” she whines.

“I’ve got you, baby,” Eddie croons. His fingers travel down farther, and she automatically drops her legs open wider for him. A thick middle finger slides down and up her slit. “Fuck, you’re soaked.”

“Want you so bad,” is the only thing she can get out, through a hoarse wispy voice.

“Is my Harley Quinn all needy? Hmm?” Eddie’s voice is soft and slow as his middle finger slides up and presses against her clit.

“Yes!” Her hands grip at Eddie’s upper arms and her eyes practically roll back in her head as he rubs tight circles against her sensitive nub. “Yes, Puddin’. Need you so bad.”

“Tell me what you need,” Eddie purrs.

“You,” Harley whimpers. “Your cock.”

“Whatever my partner in crime wants.” Eddie smirks as he positions his body on top of hers and guides his cock to her entrance. He moves slowly and she feels every inch as he pushes inside of her.

“Feels so good,” she whimpers, reaching up to hold on to some part of him.

“Tell me how good, baby.”

“M’so full,” she whines, hands moving higher so her fingers tangle in his green-tinted locks. “You’re so fucking big.”

Eddie’s hips pick up the pace, building a steady rhythm that makes the mattress below them squeak. Neither can hear over the sound of their labored breathing, though.

Using her grip on his hair, Harley pulls Eddie’s face down to hers and smashes their mouths together. Their lips meld together and tongues dance with one another, only adding to the intense pleasure. A particularly hard thrust of Eddie’s hips has them moaning into one another’s mouths. When the kiss breaks, Eddie buries his head into her neck while Harley’s breaths become even more shallow.

“Jesus Christ, you’re so fucking tight,” he growls against her skin. “Feels goddamn perfect.”

Fingers tighten in Eddie’s hair in response, and the man isn’t able to hold back a guttural groan when she gives a small tug on the strands.

“Someone likes his hair being pulled,” Harley murmurs.

Eddie pulls back and looks down at her. He opens his mouth to respond but breaks into strangled laughter before any words can come out.

“W-What?” she asks.

“I had some witty retort questioning if you like your hair pulled, but I can’t even see your hair because of that adorable fucking hat.”

Harley lets out a soft giggle and shakes her head from side to side so the white pom poms on the end of the sides wiggle all over the place.

“How are you so goddamn sexy and insanely cute at the same time?” Eddie asks, a breathy laugh of his own coming out as his hips keep up their punishing pace.

“Mm, well, insane comes with the territory.” She grins and Eddie can’t help but dive back in to press his lips to her again. The red lipstick each of them is wearing smears to combine a shade of red that’s a compromise of both hues.

“Can I take your mask off?” Eddie asks against her lips.

“Please.”

Eddie balances himself hovering over her body before he reaches up with one hand and takes the small black mask off her face. He gently tosses it to land on top of the costume in a heap on the floor before focusing on her face. It’s still covered in white makeup with black tear tracks, but he can see much more clearly what she looks like underneath the whole Harley Quinn getup and it makes him smile.

“Beautiful,” he says, not even realizing he said it aloud at first.

“Not so bad yourself, gorgeous,” Harley says, giving him a wink.

A minor tilt of Eddie’s hips has his cock hitting just the right spot to make her see stars. A mix between a gasp and a moan erupts from her throat as her hands move to grab Eddie’s upper arms. Her fingers curl into his triceps and her eyes fall shut at the immense pleasure of Eddie’s cock repeatedly brushing that perfect spot.

“Holy shit,” she gasps.

“Good, baby?” Eddie coos.

“Uh huh,” she mumbles, forehead crinkling as her mouth falls open in awe. “God, right there, Eddie.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. Eddie drills his hips into hers, his eyes boring down at hers as she blinks them open.

Face still scrunched up in ecstasy, Harley stares right back up at Eddie. The combination of him hitting that spot over and over again mixed with the intimacy of the intense eye contact creates a familiar tightening in her lower abdomen.

“Eddie, I’m gonna—fuck, I’m gonna come.”

“That’s it,” Eddie rasps. “Come on my cock, sweetheart.” He reaches down and rubs her clit in time with his thrusts into her.

The friction is just what she needs to send her over the edge. Her back arches off the back, pressing her breasts into Eddie’s chest, and she lets out the most beautiful moans that Eddie’s ever heard as the wave of pleasure crashes over her.

The clenching of her already tight pussy around Eddie’s cock has him spilling into her seconds later. His thrusts are sloppy and desperate, but it sends a warm pleasant feeling over Harley as she comes down from her high.

Once Eddie is spent, he rests his forehead against hers. The face paint on both of them has smeared and smudged, now runny from sweat. They just gaze at one another as they attempt to catch their breaths.

“God, that was good.” She finally breaks the silence.

“So fucking good,” Eddie agrees. He leans down and presses another kiss to her lips before rolling to the side and plopping down next to her.

There’s a silence between them that has the potential to turn awkward, but they turn their heads to look at one another at the same time, and they both burst out in laughter.

“Do I look as funny as you do?” Harley asks, reaching up and smearing some of the white paint on his cheek.

“I’m afraid so,” Eddie replies with a nod.

“What a couple of clowns we are.”

Eddie snorts a laugh and brings his hands up to cover his face. When he pulls them away, they’re covered in white and red smears. Harley goes to lift her own hands to her face but stops halfway and lets out a soft squeal that turns into laughter.

“What? What is it?” Eddie asks.

She can’t stop laughing, so she turns her hands to show they’re now green from the coloring in his hair.

“Oh damn,” Eddie says, starting to laugh himself. “I’d say we’re in need of a shower.”

Harley turns on her side to face him and props her head up on her elbow.

“The bathrooms in this dorm aren’t co-ed,” she says. “Buuuut I also know that no one really gives a shit.”

“Dr. Quinzel, are you proposing we shower together?” He widens his eyes in fake shock.

“As long as you lend me something to wear afterwards, Puddin,” she croons, leaning in to press a kiss to his lips. “I can’t exactly go around looking like this.”

“Looks good to me,” Eddie says with a smirk, which earns him a playful swat on the chest. “Even with the hat.”

“Oh my God, I can’t believe I’m still wearing this thing,” she says with a laugh.

“May I?” Eddie gestures towards the jester cap.

“Go for it.”

Eddie undoes the strap that was holding the black and red hat in place and gently removes it from her head. He can’t help but give a goofy grin now that he sees every part of her—except the clear skin of her face.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Mister J.”

After both clowns have shed their makeup and are squeaky clean, Eddie lends her an oversized hoodie and she pulls her panties back on. Eddie changes into a pair of pajamas he packed with him.

He takes a step over to the bed now that he’s freshly dressed and winces when he sees the sheets. The navy-colored fabric is smeared with white face paint, red lipstick, and black eye makeup—not to mention other spots and stains that Eddie doesn’t even want to think about Dustin finding.

He makes quick work of yanking all the bedding off and shoving it into Dustin’s hamper. Clean? Burn? Both? Eddie’s not sure, but he’s leaning towards the fiery option. If the situations were reversed, Eddie would not want to be sleeping on these sheets ever again.

“Say, partner in crime.” Eddie sidles up next to her and wraps his arm around her waist. “Want to destroy some property with me? Quick question though…is it only arson if it’s a building or does it count for lighting anything ablaze?”

“We can just ask the cops when they arrest us,” she says with a shrug. “I’m sure they’ll know. Or maybe it’ll be Batman who gets us!”

The response makes Eddie chuckle. He leans in, cupping her clean, clear face in both hands and presses his lips against hers. The two of them get caught in the moment, mouths moving fervently, when there’s a voice outside the dorm door.

“Oh, you’ve got to be shitting me. This asshole doesn’t get laid the entirety of high school, but now it happens in my room? God damn it, Munson. Stranded out in the hallway as Sherlock fucking Holmes. Just perfect.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fan fic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic

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iamred-iamyellow · 6 months ago

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⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Calrissian

♥ masterlist | request rules

♥ pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

♥ synopsis: you weren’t quite sure how it was possible that your boyfriend lando had never seen the star wars movies. he was named after one of the characters… right? regardless, halloween was the perfect time to introduce him to the franchise

♥ ficlet/drabble - as always none of the pictures are mine <3

♥ warnings: swearing !!!

♥ a/n: this has been trapped in my drafts for months so i think it’s time to set her free

“You know," you said, sitting on the couch beside him with a giant bowl of popcorn. "I always thought you were named after my favorite character.”

Lando knew this was important to you so he set an ambiance just for the occasion. He brought out the footrests, covered the couches with blankets, and lit a few candles around the room.

“And who might that be?” he responded, grabbing a fistful of the buttery snack and popping it into his mouth.

“Lando Calrissian, duh. Billy Dee Williams? Donald Glover…?” you trailed off waiting for his response.

He paused for a moment, “Doesn’t ring a bell."

“Remind me to get you into Community after this,” you mumbled while setting up the movie.

The title card for episode 4 showed up on screen as you settled onto the fluffy sofa. Once your gaze finally met his again, you noticed the big grin on his face.

“What?” you questioned.

"Nothing,” he continued to smile.

You rolled your eyes at him playfully and grabbed some chocolate to pop into your mouth.

He put his arm around your shoulders and tugged the blanket up closer to the two of you as you cuddled into his side.

“So how many hours am I in for?” he asked.

“Hmm, I think six?"

His eyebrows raised and his eyes widened, “Well fuck, good thing I cleared my calendar," he laughed.

You had gone about 2 and a half movies before passing out on Lando’s shoulder. He made sure not to move too much as he tried to turn off the current film. He bundled the two of you up and wrapped his arms around your waist, getting comfortable for a good night's worth of sleep.

bonus smau;

liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername, carlossainz55, and 208,843 more

landonorris halloween ‘24

tagged; @/yourusername

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yourusername 💚💙

user1 lightsaber colored hearts

user5 I understood that reference

carlossainz55 he got those pumpkin carving skills from me

landonorris @/carlossainz55 you wish

user7 they're han an leia 😭🫶

user8 these cute fuckers

user2 missed opportunity for carlos and rebecca to be anakin and padme 😔

oscarpiastri happy halloween !

♡ by landonorris

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

end notes: happy halloween loves! <3 this was just something small for the holiday but I'll be back soon with a full smau!

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dreameyess11 · 1 month ago

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Nightmares

Anakin Skywalker x Reader

You wake to the sound of soft, hurried footsteps padding across the polished floor, barely audible over the hum of Coruscant’s distant nightlife. The warm body beside you shifts—Anakin, his breathing even and steady, blissfully unaware of the disturbance. You smile faintly, brushing away a stray strand of his tousled hair before turning toward the door.

Two small figures appear in the doorway, outlined by the dim light from the hall. Luke and Leia, clutching their blankets, their wide eyes filled with fear. You’re on your feet in an instant, already kneeling to their level before they can say a word.

“Another nightmare?” you ask softly, stroking Leia’s dark curls as she nods, her lower lip trembling. Luke burrows into your side, his tiny hands gripping your nightclothes tightly. You exchange a glance with Anakin, who’s now awake and sitting up, concern etched across his face.

“Come here,” he says, his voice warm and soothing as he pats the space beside him on the large bed. “There’s plenty of room.”

Leia hesitates, her little brows furrowed, but Luke is already climbing up with your help, wriggling under the blankets. You scoop Leia into your arms, kissing her temple as you carry her to the bed. She sighs, her small frame relaxing against you.

The four of you settle in—a tangle of limbs and blankets, the children nestled between you and Anakin. Luke curls against his father, his small hands gripping Anakin’s tunic as though it’s the only anchor in his stormy dreams. Leia clings to you, her fingers twining with yours as you stroke her hair, whispering reassurances.

“They’re safe,” Anakin murmurs, his voice barely audible as he watches them with that soft, vulnerable look he reserves only for his family. “We won’t let anything harm them.”

Your eyes meet his, and for a moment, the galaxy shrinks to just this—your children’s quiet breathing, Anakin’s steady presence, and the love that binds you all together.

Leia stirs, her voice a sleepy murmur. “Daddy, can you tell us a story?”

You glance at Anakin, who raises a brow, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips. “I think your mother tells better stories than I do,” he says, his tone playful.

Rolling your eyes, you lean closer, your voice soft and soothing as you weave a tale. Anakin chimes in now and then, embellishing with dramatic flourishes that make the children giggle despite their exhaustion.

By the time your story ends, Luke and Leia are fast asleep, their nightmares forgotten. Anakin reaches out, his fingers brushing yours as he whispers, “You’re amazing, you know that?”

You smile, your heart full as you glance at your sleeping children. “It’s not just me,” you whisper back, your gaze meeting his. “It’s us.”

He leans in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, his warmth chasing away any lingering shadows. For tonight, the galaxy can wait. Here, in this moment, you have everything you need.

#fanfic #anakin skywalker #star wars #star wars anakin #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x you #imagine #Spotify

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mystic-writings · 8 months ago

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i love you, we’re okay | poe dameron

PAIRING — poe dameron x fem!reader

SUMMARY — when poe finally returns from an unexpectedly long mission, you have something to tell him.

WARNINGS — pregnancy, fluff, mentions of sex, suggestive scenes (but not really), mentions of vomiting, real-word cursing

WORD COUNT — 3,375

NOTES — the pipeline that led me to writing this is actually insane btw! couldn’t explain it if i tried, but this is my first attempt at writing for poe since 2020, so i’m still rusty on the star wars slang/lingo!

masterlist | taglist

You’d never found more solace, more protection from the state of the world around you than you’d ever found in Poe’s arms. It was usually your favourite place to be — and one of the reasons why you hated when he went on missions so often. That, and the sole possibility that he might not make it back.

It was why you cherished the days when he made it back to D’Qar, straight back to you.

You’d been both eager and entirely too worried for his return this time around, a simple mission taking entirely too long to complete. When he’d first told you about it, he promised he’d be back in a week at the longest. That week turned into two, turned into three, and you were nearly worried half to death until you were awoken by your datapad, the sun barely cresting the horizon as it beeped incessantly, a transmission from Leia herself stating that Poe was in the debriefing room with her.

She’d relieved you both from your duties for the day, supposedly just to spend time together after being apart for so long. You knew the intent behind her message, the subtle jab at the surprise you were hiding from your boyfriend, and you fully planned to follow through the moment you saw him.

And then he was showing up at your door, hands pulling at fabric and lips meeting skin, and the rest of the world simply fell away, leaving only you and Poe at the centre of the universe, showing each other exactly how much you’d missed one another.

The sun was surely up by now, as Poe rolled onto the bed next to you, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, his lips stretched with that beautiful post-sex smile that always left you breathless. Shifting under the sheets, you reached out to pull him close, relishing the way he so easily fell into your body; his face settling in the crook of your neck, breaths fanning across your sweat-slick skin, an arm falling across your torso.

You settled into the mattress, your hand reaching up to gently scratch at Poe’s scalp. He hummed contentedly, wriggling beside you in an attempt to get closer to you, as though your bodies weren’t already pressed together.

“Poe?”

“Hmm,” he hummed, somewhere between a groan and something more inquisitive, muffled by your shoulder.

“I’m glad you’re back,” you whispered as you stopped scratching his scalp, pressing a light kiss to his hair, doing very little to fight the way your sudden, oncoming tears wavered your voice.

Poe lifted his head, worried eyes meeting your tear-filled ones. He propped himself up on his elbow, reaching up to brush stray hairs from your forehead, his fingers lingering as they drifted down your face. “Hey, I’m okay. I didn’t get hurt. I’m right here, alright?”

Your heart swelled as Poe spoke, the comfort in his assuring, gentle tone bringing a fresh wave of tears to your eyes. He always had a habit of doing that, of making sure you were okay. Making sure you knew he wasn’t planning on going anywhere you couldn’t reach him. You nodded, doing your best to blink away the tears, though all you managed to do was make them fall.

Poe’s hand returned to your face almost immediately, the calloused pad of his thumb sweeping gently across your cheek, wiping away any trace of your unease. A quiet sigh escaped him as you leaned into his touch, his palm splaying across the side of your face, allowing you to soak up his warmth. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” you choked out, reddened eyes opening to meet his worried ones. “I promise, Poe. You were just gone for so long, and I…” a sharp inhale, a beat of anxiety, your eyes locked with his as you forced the words out in one big breath. “I’m pregnant.”

Poe remained silent as his eyes searched yours, and you could practically see the gears turning in his head. For a moment, you worried that this wasn’t what Poe wanted; that he would leave, without a word, and abandon you entirely. And then, like the sun splitting the clouds after a rainstorm, Poe’s lips stretched into a smile bigger and brighter than you’ve ever seen.

“Really?” He asked, breathless as he took you in, watching a matching smile spread across your own lips.

You nodded, fresh tears coming to your eyes, glimmering and unshed. Happy tears. With another inhale, you glanced down at the space between you, soon to be filled by a swelling stomach and the life you created. “I’m still trying to wrap my head around it, y’know? And I’ve known for, like, two weeks,”

“Are you doing okay?” Poe asked, his hand drifting to your waist, fingers gently grazing against the skin of your stomach. “Any morning sickness? Or are you not that far yet? Do you know how many weeks yet? What about fatigue?”

He prattled the questions off so quickly that you could barely process them, a giggle escaping your lips and promptly cutting him off. Poe frowned, making you laugh even harder. “What’s so funny? Am I not allowed to be concerned here?”

“No, you’re perfectly allowed to be concerned, Poe,” you took a breath, calming yourself as much as you could. A wide, playful smile still split your lips as you spoke. “I just… where did you learn all of that?”

“Hey, I read,” Poe defended.

“You read… pregnancy books?” You asked, fighting laughter once again.

“Okay, not pregnancy books. But my mom… her friend was pregnant when I was younger, they used to talk about a lot of that stuff together and it just sort of… stuck, I guess,” Poe shrugged, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “Now, tell me everything.”

You huffed playfully as Poe rolled over, sitting up and adjusting the pillows behind him. Leaning against the wall, he pulled you into his lap, keeping one hand on your hip and the other loosely wrapped around your bare torso as you rested your head on his shoulder.

“They said I was about seven weeks when I found out,” you began, fingers running along the chain Poe kept around his neck, hosting his mother’s ring. “So… I’m almost nine weeks along now? Ish?”

Poe hummed, his fingers brushing absently against your stomach. “No nausea, surprisingly. Except the one time, but I’ll get to that. I haven’t done a scan yet, though. Was waiting for you to get back.”

You glanced up, finding Poe’s eyes already on you, a gentle smile on his face. “I didn’t want you to miss anything.”

“I know,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your hairline. “Thank you.”

You smiled back in response, deciding to finally get to the good part. “As for how I found out…”

“Y/n, you have to stop working so hard,” you hadn’t even heard Rose approach you from behind, your head practically buried in the underbelly of one of the older, disused A-Wings.

Sighing, you took a step down from your ladder, squinting at your friend. “I’ll be fine, Rose. I’ve almost got this thing back to combat ready, anyway.”

“You need to eat. And shower. And rest.” Rose insisted as gently as she was able, crossing her arms as she stared you down. “How long have you been out here, anyway?”

You huffed, stepping from the ladder, moving closer to Rose in order to reach your toolbox, which she’d conveniently been standing beside. Her eyes followed you as you dropped your soldering wand, grabbing a rag to wipe your hands.

“What’s it matter, Rose? I’m fine. I’ve gotta get this damn thing fixed before Poe gets back so he can dock his X-Wing here, and I’d rather get it done now, since—” you huffed, frustrated at your own body for betraying you and allowing your chest to constrict, for letting your eyes fill with tears as you throw down the rag, pulling at the zipper on your jumpsuit, pulling it down to the waist, revealing your sweat-soaked tank top and allowing your skin to breathe. “—since apparently no one knows when that’s gonna be.”

Rose’s eyes softened, her hands falling back to their sides as she watched you panic, frantic fingers pulling at your suit, fumbling to tie the arms around your waist. “Y/n, come inside. Get something to drink, please. You’re gonna hurt yourself like this.”

“I’ll be fine,” you whispered, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I’ll be fine. Just need to keep— keep working.”

You pressed your fingers to your eyes, practically swaying as a wave of nausea rolled over you, practically knocking you off your feet. You heard Rose call your name, worried and shaky as she watched cautiously. Trying to tamp it down, you took a deep breath, almost instantly regretting the action. Instead of the cool air you were hoping to breathe in, all you smelled was char from the soldering wand, the smell of metal and grease and sweat infiltrating your senses and bringing the bile in your stomach all the way up your throat.

Your hand flew to cover your mouth, eyes flying open to make brief contact with Rose before you darted to the other corner of the docking bay, emptying what little you’d been able to eat for breakfast into a waste bin. It was uncomfortable to say the least, but Rose’s heavy footfalls eventually faded, followed immediately by a soothing hand rubbing circles on your back.

When you were finally done, heaving and out of breath, Rose helped you stand.

“Are you going to listen to me now and get some rest?” Rose asked, more sympathetic than authoritative.

Murmuring a confirmation that you were, indeed, going to take a break, you leaned into her small form, eyes fluttering closed to take a moment to properly breathe. The taste lingered in your mouth, acidic and bitter, making your stomach want to turn on you again. Your skin seemed to develop another layer of sweat, sticky and gross as it clung to you.

Rose stuck close as you began walking on your own, stumbling as you headed to the docking bay’s entrance, your head spinning almost violently. You didn’t even get the chance to mutter your friend’s name before you felt your knees giving out, the world falling around you, fading into nothing before you even hit the ground.

“You worked yourself half to death?” Poe asked, an edge to his voice, making your shoulders tense. “That’s how you found out?”

“I didn’t work myself to death,” you muttered, lifting your head to meet Poe’s eyes. “I just… worked on the A-Wing for a bit too long, that’s all. They fixed me up nice and new in the medbay, anyway.”

“And how long is ‘a bit too long’, exactly?”

“Uh…” you hummed, trying to stall for time before you eventually muttered, “Eleven and a half hours,”

“Maker—!” Poe groaned, lightly hitting his forehead with yours, his eyes squeezed shut. He took a breath, grounding himself as he squeezed your hip before pulling back and looking at you. “You know you can’t work for that long even when you’re not pregnant, right? That’s way too dangerous!”

“I needed something to keep me busy!” You blurted, winding an arm around Poe’s neck, adjusting yourself. “I couldn’t— you not being here, not getting any communication from you, it terrified me, Poe. Not knowing if or when you were coming home, I couldn’t think about it. So I worked on the A-Wing.”

Poe sighed, squeezing your hip one more time. “I’m sorry. For not… for not telling you it was gonna take longer. We weren’t allowed any communication. Too close to the First Order, they would’ve tracked it right to you.”

“It’s okay, Poe.” You whispered, tangling your fingers in the curls at the nape of his neck. “You’re here. You’re alive. That’s enough.”

You woke with a sharp breath, a pounding in your head, and harsh light bleeding through your eyelids. Pressing the heel of your palm to your temple, something snagged on the back of your hand. Pulling back, you forced your eyes open despite the bright, sterile lighting, finding an IV taped expertly to your skin.

Glancing around, you groaned when you realised you were in the medbay. Heaving a sigh, you pushed yourself into a sitting position, which was much harder to do when your bed was already at an angle.

The trills and beeps of a droid caught your attention, the bed rising to meet your back as a med-droid beeped happily at your conscious presence. “Good evening, Miss Y/n! You’re finally awake!”

“What happened to me, exactly?” You rasped, coughing slightly at the dryness of your throat. Almost immediately, the droid handed you some water, which you took gratefully even if you were already getting fluids from the IV.

“You fainted, Miss Y/n!” The droid was all too chipper about your accident, forcing you to bite back a groan. “My scans indicate that you are dehydrated and lacking proper nutrition, Miss Y/n. The fluids are administering proper hydration and vitamins.”

You nodded gently, still aware of the present, but lessening, throbbing in your head. “Anything else? Anything General Organa can yell at me for later?”

“My scans do not indicate any life-threatening conditions, Miss Y/n.” The droid informed you, and you felt your chest get a little bit lighter. “But I did detect a secondary life form, Miss Y/n. Congratulations! Would you like to see?”

The med-droid’s words caught you off guard, stealing the breath from your lungs as you stared at it, entirely hung up on three words, spoken in a metallic, chittering voice. Secondary life form. When you finally found your voice, you squeaked out, “Secondary life form?”

“Yes, Miss Y/n. It appears you’re pregnant! According to my scans, you’re approximately seven weeks!” The droid chittered, trilling and beeping away after the fact. “Shall I inform General Organa?”

“No!” You nearly shouted, fear shooting through your nerves. “No, thank you. Just… call her here, please?”

The droid rolled away, chittering an enthusiastic ‘yes, Miss Y/n!’, and you gave yourself the moment alone to catch your breath, properly. The air was tinged with the scent of medical grade disinfectant, burning your nostrils as you breathed it in. You closed your eyes, following what felt like a thousand different trains of thought, all of them landing on one of two things: Poe, and what this would do to your future with the resistance.

You hadn’t talked about it much with Poe, but you knew he’d always wanted a family. Of course, all of the times either of you had brought it up — about three times in total between both of you — the dreams he’d had about building a family always came after the war. When the world was safe and he was free to live whatever life he wanted, wherever he wanted it. Of course, knowing Poe, that life would take place on Yavin-4, where his father could see his son happy and his grandchildren thriving.

What would he have to say about this? About you, pregnant on a rebel base that could be attacked at a moment’s notice, unable to properly defend yourself? What would you do with yourself, unable to fight, taking care of the most vulnerable being in the galaxy?

You didn’t bother thinking about it further, knowing that it would only push you into a spiral. Thankfully, the medbay doors hissed open, revealing a relieved General Organa, pushing through and rushing to your bed.

“Are you okay?” Her maternal instinct seemed to be strong when it came to you and Poe, though she’d never explained why. “Rose told me you were in the medbay, then I got the transmission from the med-droid that you were awake. What happened?”

Your cheeks flushed as you ducked your head, embarrassed as you recounted the events to your general. “I overworked myself, General. But I, uh, the droid told me something else. I thought you would want to know—”

“Is there something wrong?” Her voice was calm, steady, and warm. Your chest swelled, most of your anxieties slipping away.

“Not quite, General, I— the droid said I’m pregnant.” Your voice faltered for a moment as your eyes met hers, your confidence flickering ever so slightly when she didn’t give a response. “General?”

“Effective immediately, you’re no longer allowed on active duty,” General Organa said, her voice still warm. A slight smile crossed her lips, despite the professionalism she took on. “I want you on light duty from here on out, Y/n. Until you’re 14 weeks, you may work on repairs, but after that, you’ll be supervising, nothing more. The engineers have space for you to assist with their material designs, and training is lacking as of late.”

Neither of you spoke for a moment as you processed her instructions, deflating slightly at the idea of not quite being able to do what you enjoyed for a while, but you were glad that you could still work nonetheless.

Another beat of silence, General Organa’s widening smile, then, “Congratulations. I can’t imagine how happy you must be.”

You chuckled, watching the General place her hand gently atop your own. “It’s… more nerve wracking than anything, actually. I don’t think I’ll have the space to be happy about it until I tell Poe.”

“If there’s anything I can guarantee, it’s that this is a good thing.” She assured, squeezing your fingers. “You’ll make great parents, both of you.”

“Thank you,” you whispered in a shuddering breath, turning your hand over and taking the General’s hand in yours. “That means more than you know.”

Nodding gently, General Organa squeezed your hand once more before departing to draft the papers for your altered work restrictions and removal from active duty, leaving you in a silent room to process the news by yourself.

“Leia let me stay on long enough to finish the A-Wing,” you murmured, Poe’s face long since nestled in the crook of your neck, your lips ghosting against his neck. “Got it done, with Rose supervising. Made me take a break every hour. Slowed me down, but I finished it. A few days ago, actually.”

“I don’t give a damn about the A-Wing,” Poe muttered, forcing a quiet laugh from you. “I just care that you’re okay. Both of you.”

Your heart swelled, Poe’s voice vibrating your skin, your love for him threatening to swallow you whole. “You’re… happy about this? Really?”

“Are you kidding?” Poe lifted his head, kissing your cheek, pulling back to meet your eyes with a smile. “I couldn’t be happier. We’re… I mean, shit, we’re having a kid!”

“We are,” you smiled, warm and gentle as you watched Poe’s widen. “I know it’s not like you talked about, but… we’re having a baby,”

“I don’t care about anything I said before,” Poe scoffed. “I care about now. About you and about our baby. We’re gonna be just fine, I promise. Even if that means I have to end the war myself.”

“I’d much rather you didn’t,” you said. “I think my child deserves to meet their dad.”

“Dad…” Poe whispered, eyes trailing to your stomach. “I’m gonna be a dad.”

Poe looked up, as though your words finally made him realise what was going to happen to him. You watched his eyes fill with tears, unshed as he took his hand away from your waist, splaying it across your cheek and pulling you into his lips.

Even if you must’ve kissed Poe hundreds of times before, he still managed to take the breath from your lungs every time his lips slotted onto yours. His lips were like heaven, like home to you. Like comfort, safety, and every ounce of love in his body flowed into yours, no matter the reason why he was kissing you. Whether it was hello, or goodbye, or simply because Poe wanted to kiss you, he always made sure you could feel how much he loved you. And you did the same.

His lips seemed to say it all without speaking a single word. I love you, we’re okay.

forever taglist: @mazerunnerrose @theboldandthebootyful @miraclesoflove @heliads

poe dameron taglist: open!

#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x pregnant!reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron x y/n #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron fluff #star wars fanfiction #star wars x reader

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januaryembrs · 1 year ago

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HOT UNDER THE HELMET | Poe Dameron x Mechanic!Reader

Request: Hi, would you mind writing for Poe Dameron where Poe accidentally injures the reader (whose a mechanic), which is how they meet for the first time. And would you mind using the dialogue prompt “Oh, oh my god! It was an accident! I’m so sorry!”?

Description: Poe finds out the hard way the best mechanic in the resistance is also most beautiful woman he’s ever seen; too bad you’re so hot headed.

word count: 1.5k

trigger warnings: sexism, fire, women in stem facing problems even in space (because ofcourse they do).

main masterlist

As much as you would love to admit times of war made people more benevolent towards each other, you’d be dead wrong. Not only had you been one of the only females in the resistance who knew her way around a wrench, but as it also turned out, not even the risk of dying could pull a males head out of his arse.

You heard snickering before you saw them. The other three mechanics in your squadron crowded around a starfighter, laughing to themselves as they watched you tinker with a leaky engine, your body strewn across a lying board as you worked above yourself, your tools against your foot.

Rolling out from underneath the ship, you paid them no mind as you searched for a screwdriver small enough to fit the flathead you needed removing. Scanning your work area, that you were proud to say you kept much neater than the blaster brained males you shared a space with, your brow furrowed when you saw your equipment nowhere to be seen.

“Looking for something?” You heard Zagg, one of the males, say, and you felt a rage boil up inside you at the smug look on their faces as you regarded them with a sweaty, pissed off expression.

“Where’d you boneheads put it?” You snapped, hauling yourself to your feet as you approached them hotly, your scowl only growing as they burst out laughing, “Real mature. The galaxy is going to bantha fodder, and you guys are hiding my tools,”

“You know, if you need help from someone who knows what they’re doing, you could just ask,” The tallest of the trio, Bran, goaded you, a smarmy smile on his face as he watched your cheeks puff with exhaustion, whirling around to charge up to him, no matter if you did have to turn your neck upwards to confront the pig of a male.

“Why don’t you pick on someone your own size, instead of going after little girls who make you look like rookies,” You hissed, eying up the other two who seemed to exchange a sneer, “Leia chose me herself, handpicked me from the academy. You three nerf herders got through on sheer size alone, and it’s obvious you feel the need to compensate everywhere else possible,”

You sauntered away, back towards the rear of the workshop where spare apparatus was kept, banging around the drawers with a foul mood, muttering about how useless the opposite sex was in times of crisis.

As if he had heard the call of a siren, Poe strolled into the hangar, fully suited with his helmet under his arm, an all too cheery smile on his face for the belly of the beast he was unknowingly heading straight for.

Catching the eye of one of the mechanics, a freakishly tall man that seemed to be chatting to the other two as they stood around an X-wing with a huge hole ripped into the body of it, he watched the worker drop his bitter face and regard him with raised eyebrows when he saw the chirpy pilot approach.

“General,” He nodded respectfully, though there was not a single trace of regard on his face. “You’ve come for your ship?”

“Leia said you had your best guy on it?” He said, almost missing the way the three of them nodded hesitantly, “She said it should be ready today,”

“Right this way, General Dameron,” The shorter, beefy one said, leading him away to a pristine looking starfighter, by far in the best shape he could see it being without it being brand new. He thought he caught a snigger behind him as the mechanic, whose oiled badge read as Kripply, took him over to the ship, “Why don’t you give her a whirl? As you said, we had our very best on the case,”

Poe looked at him with an odd mix of a smile and wariness as he couldn’t miss the devilish excitement the man looked at him with. Had he sat in paint again, he wondered. Finn had had a field day walking him around the entire compound with two white ass cheek marks on his suit, he wouldn’t put it past his co-pilot to try his luck again seeing as Poe had been the one to win at cards last night and had not so graciously rubbed his credits in the man’s face.

“Sure, let’s give this baby a whirl,” He said after a moment, his hair falling all over the place as he shoved his helmet over his thick, sable locks.

Maybe he had a case of bedhead, he wondered. Afterall, he’d not exactly been sober as he’d stumbled back to his room last night, his winnings buying him round after round of smuggled Corellian Whiskey.

He hopped up onto the wing, yanking himself into the cockpit that had been cleaned thoroughly, and he didn’t know why he ever doubted his repair team if this was the condition they left their vehicles in. The engine hummed to life as he flicked the tiny lever, and he couldn’t help but appreciate the oddly floral smell inside the small flight deck, and he wondered if they had gone so far as to spray freshener in there.

You had found a spare tightener that would fit the screw, the last thing that needed fastening up before the engine should be good to run, Leia’s general would be by any second now.

Rolling back under the vehicle, you tuned out the way Zagg cackled over the sound of an engine springing to life, you assumed their own, focusing on the tiny panel you had yet to cover the machinery with to protect the pilot from any stray blaster fire cutting the engine.

But no sooner had you settled on your back beneath the jet, your hand reaching up for the metal sheet, you heard the familiar rumble of oil being fired through the motor, the drums whirling as the ignition started and a short blast of heat hit you in the face.

You blanched as you knew that meant, knew what would come shooting out any second now. Heat always got kicked out of the engine first, the left over energy dishcharged out of the bottom grate. Because then came the fire as it sprung to life.

Your hand came up before you could think through what you were doing, the hard work you were unravelling in the interest of keeping your face intact, your brain from turning to crispy mush, as you yanked the oil pipe from where you’d connected it to the drum, the thick black liquid pouring over your entire body as you stumbled from out beneath the plane, just incase your plan hadn’t worked.

You heard the engine cut, the sound of the cockpit sliding open as someone cursed from above, and you were filled with a new wave of rage as two feet jumped from the wing above you, turning to the three men who watched with entertained chuckles.

“What happened, I thought you said-” Poe had started chewing out the males who didn’t seem to care all too much about the fact the jet had broken down, when he felt two hands shove him from behind, and he spun on his heel with annoyance.

His face dropped entirely when he saw you, covered head to toe in a thick, gunky oil, your nostrils flaring as you glared at him with a heat he had yet to see from a woman before.

Usually women were so receptive to his charming good looks. Not this one it seemed.

“What the kriff was that, man,” You yelled, shoving his chest again with your slimy hands, and he quickly put it together what had been the problem.

“What that me?” His brows flew into his hair line as you looked at him like he’d just learned there were stars in the sky, “Oh, maker! It was an accident! I’m so sorry!”

“Oh he’s sorry. Thank goodness he’s sorry,” You threw your arms up, wiping the oil away from your eyes with slippy hands, and Poe had no idea what to say for the best.

Though, he supposed telling you you were by far the prettiest woman he’d seen in moons was not the correct thing to go for, despite the fact it was the first thing he’d thought.

“I’m a decorated pilot, I would never intentionally-” He spluttered, but you had already turned away, heading towards a small work bench where a bunch of old, dirty rags lay, supposedly for hands only.

“You can decorate my ass, general. You’re waiting another week for that plane,” You seethed, barely regarding him over your shoulder.

And he stood there, speechless, because what was he supposed to say. No one had ever spoken down to him like that, not since he’d grown into his good looks and had women falling at his feet to be near him. Certainly not since he’d become leader.

You huffed past him, as he was rooted to the spot, jaw hung slack as you left the workshop, cursing him out clearly to yourself, and it was only then that he turned to the other three males who had watched him get his ass served to him with another round of sniggers. “Who in the maker was she?”

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron x you

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briarberrythornedhart · 8 months ago

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Well... That’s Settled

Cw: none. Just fluff and eventual romance

It’s Saturday. A rare Saturday where you and your co-worker Eddie both aren’t working.

You knock on Eddie’s front door. Waiting a bit and hearing nothing. You knock again.

You hear “Coming. Shit! Fuck! Coming!! shit shit… Hold your gaddam horses” from Eddie— kinda muffled.

He opens the door with a scowl … and a glint catches your eye. A sewing needle in his mouth. He pulls the needle from between his teeth, it is trailing black thread. His scowl is softening into mild surprise.

“Oh it’s you??” He says

“It’s me. You…are... sewing ?? something?”

“Got a new patch for my vest at the show last weekend.” He holds up a black patch that says ‘Sloppy Seconds’ on it. “What’s up?”

“You said you were off today, and you could help me??? But your phone was busy… and probably I should have waited but it’s nearly eleven…”

“Nono, it’s cool, c’mon in.” He holds the screen door for you with his palm, fingers spread wide. “You are always welcome at Casa Munson. Didn’t think you’d take me up on my offer s’all.”

“But, Eddie Munson, you’re my only hope.” You did your best Leia Organa and Eddie grinned at you in acknowledgement of your effort.

“So you’re saying I’m a space wizard??” He fished for the compliment with typical cocky swagger.

“I’ve seen you use the Force on people with weak minds.” You wiggled your fingers in the air.

“When?? When have I ever done that?” He laughed.

You imitated Eddie’s midwestern accent that had that Munson Family brand Tennessee honey drizzled on it. “Golly, Officer, I didn’t think I was speeding. Oh - Keith, you said you didn’t want me to close on Tuesday, you personally want to walk the deposit to the bank, remember. Nah, you don’t need to roll to detect cursed objects right now after picking up that innocent looking pendant ...?”

“Well.. my magic doesn’t work on you, anyway.” He wryly pursed his lips.

It does though. It always does.

You watch him put the needle into a pin cushion that looked like a tomato and he laid his project aside.

He bends over the couch arm to do this and you can see the bit of un-inked skin above his gray boxers where his shirt rides up and his jeans ride low.

You can see the nice curve of his butt where one of the pockets is torn and his boxers show there too and you wish to hell he wanted you back.

You sigh. That would be so nice.

He stands and looks at you with his eyebrows raised in query. “What??”

So you change the subject. “Why don’t you put patches on your jeans? They are rapidly becoming more hole than fabric. Denim isn’t supposed to be... lace.”

He grins again. “That’s just air conditioning for my knees. S’very practical.”

“Including the hole on your left ass cheek - that’s for air circulation too, is it?”

His eyes widened. He runs his hand down his butt, fingers dipping into the hole. “Shiiiiit, why didn’t anyone tell me??”

“Presumably because we were all enjoying it?” You suggested playfully.

His eyes snap to yours. “Enjoying what? Me, looking like a total dork??”

“It’s called deshibile - it’s very fashionable.”

“What are you even talking about?? You're so... aggravating sometimes, I swear to gawd!” Eddie jogs down the hallway and you follow. He tries to get a good look in the mirror by his custom Warlock - she’s so pretty - but he calls her ‘Sweetheart’ - lucky tart. “ How long were these jeans ripped to hell on my ass??!! I only have two pairs - so - you saw!! You totally saw this yesterday and you didn’t even say....”

“Your boxers are keeping you decent - you just have a ripped pocket. It’s fine - You look fine. Why do you care? Keith doesn’t care about ripped pants - like - you wear shoes to work... so you are one up on Argyle with the flip flops. Now if you went commando, that might be a problem.”

He is running his hands through his hair. “I can’t afford more jeans right now... fuuuuuuck.”

“You have sewing supplies right here - You just need another patch, Eddie - from older jeans or an old t-shirt... it would barely show - until our next pay day and then we could go thrifting together? If you want?”

“Yeah.... yeah... sorry - just went to that concert and I shouldn’t have because we needed a plumber last week and money’s tight.”

You nodded. Money is always tight. The job pays you both very little. You know why you stay (to see Eddie) - but you don’t know why Eddie doesn’t get a better job.

“Hey - I’m sorry, I said you were ‘aggravating’, man, I-I didn't mean it - I mean, you do Drive Me Insane, but I guess I kinda like it... how we joke around.” Eddie leaned his forehead into the mirror - closed his eyes. “You’re a good friend, you know?? And... and I promised to help you out. But, I kinda forget what with??”

“Because I didn’t say. Because it’s a secret.”

“Oh! Covert mission, huh?” Eddie turned with - well it wasn’t elegance but it was beautiful just the same. He clapped his large hands together and rubbed them up and down with glee. “What are we up to?”

“I’m making a mix tape. For a guy I like. And I know you have the perfect set up to record on.”

“For a guy??”

“Yeah - I’m into them - dudes - in general.” you snarked. “Girls aren’t out of the question , but I do tend to go for...”

“I know-ah. I mean. You wanna use my equipment - and my music, I assume??”

“Some of it.” You nodded at Eddie. Eddie has a great music collection.

“My stuff... To court some loser...”

“He’s not a loser. He’s perfect.”

“No guy is perfect, I guarantee you.”

“He’s handsome. He’s kind and generous. He’s funny... on purpose. He has these lips...”

“Stop - I do not want to hear about his lips. Where’d you even meet him? At...”

“You know - around Hawkins...” You cut him off before he can ask ‘at work?’ and you’d have to come up with some crazy lie.

“You sure he’s single?? Maybe he’s dating half of Hawkins?? Maybe he’s gay?” Eddie is not looking at you - he’s flipping through records in a milk crate.

“Maybe he is all of those things - or he’s not into me at all - or maybe he’s not into anyone - that’s why I’m making the mix. I can tell him I like him in the j-card and in the musical subtext - if he’s not into me and can never be - we can just be friends. I’ll die a little, but that’s okay - every day we die a little more, right?”

“Morbid. But, accurate.” Eddie turned back to you. “Okay - I said I’d help you and I’ll help you - but we are making two mix tapes. One to express your interest in this guy - who probably doesn’t deserve you by the way. And one for you. Just for you. Deal?” He asks this like he’s the one convincing you of this project. Your idea - your excuse to spend time with Eddie - as much as you can finagle.

“Deal.” You go to shake on it and Eddie stops and spits in his right palm first. He checks you to see if you are grossed out. By his saliva?? No. Opposite really. “So - not a blood pact?” You kid and spit as delicately as you can into your palm - hold it out for him as brave as you can be. He grins, shakes it. You try not to think about your spit combined on your hands. Fail utterly at that.

“Okay... tell me about this Paragon of ‘Manly’ Virtue...” Eddie rolls his eyes.

“You said you didn’t want to hear about his kissable lips, his pretty eyes, his nice ass...”

“God! Stop - I didn’t know you were so fucking horny!! I meant his musical tastes.”

“He’s beautiful and I am an appreciator of his physical attributes. He’s not just a piece of meat though... he’s also got a great voice... and he’s very clever...”

“And you’re what - gonna only put really horned up slutty music on this tape and probably sleep with him immediately - you Can’t!! I mean, don’t - he might have crabs or something. You gotta be more careful.”

“He’s probably not going to like me back, but if he asks me on a date I’ll be sure to ask him point blank if he has crabs, first thing.”

“I’m just sayin’ maybe get to know him a bit before you offer your... body.”

“Okay - noted - Hmmm - ‘Horned up Slut Music’ What’s that filed under in your milk crates system ‘H’ or “S’?? Wait - did you just mean SKA?”

Eddie pushed into your shoulder with his, playfully, and was unusually quiet for a while. Picking up records and tapes and showing you song titles. Gently steering you away from anything that sounded like a Direct proposition for sex with the ‘mystery guy’.

Finally stopping you. “Now you’ve got 97 minutes of music, you’ve got to edit.”

“I thought we were making two mix tapes?’

“I’m making the second one. You have enough on your mind with mr. wonderful. When he breaks your heart you can listen to my mix and cry on my shoulder, and I’ll go kick his ass sideways.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I wouldn’t ask you to do that.” You looked down in your lap.

Eddie put two fingers under your chin and lifted your eyes to meet his. “Is he...like... is he so much better than me?” His voice broke a bit on the end.

You couldn’t speak - why wouldn’t words come out??

Eddie sounded put out but his eyes weren’t mad. “Like, other than the lips and the ass... or whatever - what’s he got that I don’t?”

You kinda... launched into his lap. You absolutely kissed him with tongue right off.

Eddie scootched like a crab into his bed - pulling you with him. Kissing you back.

“Am I a close second? You could settle for me, I’m kinda okay with that, considering the kiss you just laid on me didn’t feel like second prize.” Eddie looked so sweetly befuddled. “I do not have crabs and I’m not secretly dating anyone and I’ve been into you since day one.”

“Eddie, you are the guy.”

He blinked.

“You made me a mix?” Eddie’s pretty eyes got a twinkle in them. “But the messaging is so vague - how will I know if you are really attracted to me when you didn’t use any music to indicate a deep lust for my person.”

“You’ll just have to read the j-card.” You teased back.

#my fic writing #fluffy #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #bisexual!reader #stranger things #mix tapes

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idrawweirdstuffnominors · 8 days ago

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If ur oki with it, girl dad Josh hc's

(I gotch you <3

Josh levy as a Girl Dad headcannons!

1. Hypervigilant Protector Mode:

Josh is an extremely protective dad—borderline helicopter parent at times. The idea of someone hurting his daughter sends him into overdrive. He'll grill a toddler at daycare if they so much as steal a crayon from her.

2. Sci-Fi Indoctrination:

By age three, his daughter has seen all the Star Trek movies (age-appropriately censored), has a tiny Starfleet uniform, and can name every crew member of the Enterprise. Her bedtime stories are plot summaries of obscure sci-fi shows Josh acts out with full dramatic flair.

3. Emotionally Attuned (Sometimes Too Much):

His BPD makes him hyperaware of his daughter's moods. He'll immediately notice if she's quiet or off and will spiral if he thinks she’s upset with him. “Did I ruin her childhood? What did I say??” he’ll whisper at 2 a.m.

4. Fiercely Encouraging, But Competitive:

Whatever his daughter likes—sports, art, science—he’s all in. He wants to be her #1 fan but might accidentally turn things into a competition, like, “Yeah, but my comic was better at your age. Still... this is... solid.”

5. Rants at PTA Meetings:

The teachers fear him. He will go on long-winded rants about educational standards, media literacy, and why The Magic School Bus is better than any modern kids show. If the curriculum skips over Carl Sagan, he loses it.

6. Clingy During Milestones:

First day of school? He’s crying in the car. First crush? He’s interrogating them with passive-aggressive jokes. When she moves out? He’s FaceTiming her every other day with “You forgot your Star Wars DVDs. You’ll be back. You’ll miss me. Right?”

7. Deep Talks & Meltdowns:

Late-night convos with his daughter are some of the best moments in his life. But if they fight, he can get emotionally intense, struggling with black-and-white thinking. He worries constantly: “What if she hates me now?”

8. Best At Cosplay:

Halloween is sacred. He goes all-out on her costumes, usually coordinating his own. Think matching Ripley and Power Loader, or Princess Leia and sad, overprotective Obi-Wan Dad.

9. Will Go Nuclear on Misogyny:

Despite his ego, Josh is violently defensive of his daughter’s right to be into science, comics, and math. If anyone belittles her because she's a girl? He erupts. No one tells his kid she can’t love “The Wrath of Khan.” (which is ironic)

10. Soft Spot, Big Heart:

At the core of it all, Josh just adores his daughter. She’s the only person who can break through his arrogance with a smile or eye roll. When she hugs him, he melts, all his bluster fading into this emotional puddle of “God, I love you, kid.”

Bonus fic

Scene: Josh's Apartment, Nighttime

Josh is sitting on the couch surrounded by empty takeout containers and action figures. He's rubbing his temples, clearly spiraling from work stress and something petty he argued about online. His daughter walks in, clutching her stuffed Spock.

Daughter:

“You said you’d read me the rest of Red Mars before bed.”

Josh:

“I know, I know, I just—God, I’m sorry, kiddo. Today was... dumb. People are dumb. The internet is a hellhole. Never join fandom forums, okay?”

Daughter: (climbs onto the couch and plops down beside him)

“You always say that, but you never quit them.”

Josh groans and covers his face

“Because I’m addicted to rage, apparently.”

She pulls his hand away gently and puts Spock in his lap.

Daughter:

“Spock says that’s illogical. He says you need sleep, and maybe some salad.”

Josh cracks a smile despite himself

“Okay, that’s... that’s actually not bad advice. God, you’re scary good at this.”

Daughter:

“Yeah. It’s because I’m smarter than you.”

Josh was mock offended

“Excuse me? You take that back. I built an entire diorama of the Babylon 5 command deck out of cardboard when I was your age.”

Daughter: (grinning)

“And I made a diorama of you having a meltdown over a fan fic.”

Josh staring, then snorting with laughter

“You little goblin. Fine. You win. Let’s read your damn Mars book.”

He pulls her into a half-hug and grabs the book off the coffee table, flipping it open with a dramatic voice.

Josh (reading):

“‘The dust was red. The wind screamed across the Martian plains like a fanboy denied entry to San Diego Comic-Con…’”

She giggles, snuggles closer, and he leans his head on hers—finally calm. Needless to say if Josh had a daughter she was be a total daddies girl

(Yo i lowkey got emotional writing this and listening to weezer 😭😭😭😭

#eltingville epilogue #eltingville fanart #the eltingville club #epilogue josh levy #josh levy #headcanon #fluff

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dazaih · 2 months ago

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wingman - luke skywalker x reader

chapter one -> new beginnings chapter two

your university roommate han solo finds a rival (and love interest) in student council president leia skywalker, but both of them are too stubborn to admit that they have feelings for each other. luckily, you and her twin brother, luke, devise a plan to get the two of them to spend more time together. challenges arise, however, when you start to develop a crush on him.

chapter warnings: mentions of drugs and alcohol

a/n: hiiiii here’s my university!au mini series with roommate han solo and love interest luke skywalker! this chapter isnt super juicy but i wanted to set up a foundation before getting crazy with the plot. i’m gonna go ahead and publish the next part where luke arrives so you guys don’t have to wait to meet him hehe hope u enjoy!

You and Han Solo had a lot in common.

For starters, you both transferred into your university at the beginning of your sophomore year. In your case, you’d been getting through your gen-ed requirements at community college for a year to save money on tuition. You had worked hard, and now you had been accepted to transfer into your dream school. You showed up to the mandatory transfer student orientation feeling more hopeful than ever, excited to meet new people and make life long friends. Your only anxiety was that it was a pretty preppy school, and the student body was known to be quite affluent. You had thrifted a pretty cute outfit, though, so you prayed that your lack of frivolous spending wouldn’t be obvious to your new peers. You tried to pay attention to the speaker who was delivering the opening remarks, but your ambitions surrounding the new adventure you were embarking on were too loud, and you found yourself imagining what the next three years would entail.

Completely engrossed in your thoughts, you barely registered the sound of the auditorium door creaking open to grant entrance to a latecomer. For this reason, you nearly fell out of your chair when a gruff voice pulled you from your daydreaming:

“Mind if I sit?”

Startled, you looked up to see a slightly disheveled man staring down at you, his brown hair tousled and arms folded over his chest. He sported a pair of worn-out jeans, a flannel, and a heavy duty Carhartt coat that looked like it had seen better days. His combat boots had scratches all over the toe, and he smelled faintly of cigarettes and pot. Compared to everyone else in the room, he looked incredibly out of place, his casual attire and rugged disposition setting him apart. Despite being late, he still exuded confidence—or was it arrogance, a voice in the back of your head chimed in—and hold on, did this guy have his ear pierced?

“Well?” he prompted, looking annoyed, “Can you move your shit?”

You jumped a bit, having forgotten that he’d asked if he could sit next to you. Nodding, you moved your bag, clearing the chair out for him. Only after he sat down did his impoliteness begin to register. Should you say something to him about his attitude? You had been staring, but not long enough for him to get hateful with you.

After stewing in silent anger for a few minutes, you whispered, “Y’know, I only put my stuff in that chair because I didn’t think anyone would show up fifteen minutes late to orientation.”

Slowly, the man turned his head. When his eyes met yours, you realized that you might have made a mistake. Within your first few minutes of being on campus, you had probably just confronted the only person at this entire university who looked like he’d have no problem smacking you across the face for looking at him the wrong way.

“You better pay attention instead of talking to me, sweetheart. I heard that they’re gonna be going over how to mind your own business soon, and you could use a lesson or two in that.”

“Well, you were a little rude to me when you came in, or else I wouldn’t have said anything about it,” you replied quietly.

He just rolled his eyes, and you both turned your attention back towards the front of the room. The speaker went on and on about how this was such a prestigious school, telling you all that you were very lucky to be getting an education there. The comment struck you as a little strange, but you didn’t think much of it until the man beside of you spoke again.

“Luck’s hardly got anything to do with it,” he scoffed, looking very unimpressed.

His voice was quiet enough that you weren’t sure if he was talking to you or just mumbling under his breath. You decided to reply anyway.

“That was kind of a weird thing to say,” you agreed, hoping this would patch up whatever ill will you’d ignited in the stranger. In your defense, he had been rude to you first, but you’d only been on campus for under an hour and you weren’t trying to make enemies on your first day.

He nodded, at least acknowledging you, and listened to the rest of the orientation with an incredibly sour look on his face. As soon as the assembly concluded, he shot straight out of his chair, zipping up his coat and pulling a pack of cigarettes from his pocket.

“Waste of time,” he muttered, walking towards the door. When you didn’t follow him, he turned and looked at you like you were stupid. Confused, but getting the idea, you scurried after him, offering a small smile to him when he held the door for you. The two of you stood outside, and you watched as he leaned up against the brick building and pulled a cigarette from the box. This guy was cool, you thought; definitely an asshole, but cool. Not at all the type of person you were expecting to meet at this school, that was for sure.

“What’s your name?” he asked you, flicking his Zippo lighter open with a small clink.

You told him your name and that you were an incoming sophomore, explaining that you had gone to community college first to save some money. That made him look at you, and he seemed to regard you with something other than contempt for the first time since you’d met him.

“Huh,” he muttered softly to himself, “You got a job?”

“I did before transferring here. I worked all year. I’m here on a scholarship, so I only have to pay for room and board, but that’s still expensive, y’know?”

“Not here on daddy’s money, then,” he mused, exhaling smoke, “You want a cigarette?”

“No thanks,” you declined politely, “What about you, though?”

“Suit yourself,” he replied, taking another drag, “Han. I’m a junior. Transferred from community college like you, but I also had to raise my GPA a little bit before they’d look twice at my application. Snotty bastards.”

“You seem to hate rich people a whole lot for someone who’s gonna be sitting in class full of them in a few days,” you teased.

“Well I’m not an idiot, kid. If you wanna make money, you’re gonna have to put up with people who already have it. I can deal with a bunch of wealthy brats if it means getting an education good enough to land me a six figure job as soon as I graduate.”

“We’ll see. If transfer orientation pissed you off, I can only imagine how exciting trying to make friends with all of these wealthy brats will be for you.”

“What, you prayin’ on my downfall or something?” he snapped, though his voice lacked malice, “I’m not making friends with any of them, anyway.”

“Well, you’re trying to make friends with me, aren’t you?” you challenged, crossing your arms. He rolled his eyes.

“You’re not rich. You had to work to afford going here. And who said I wanna be friends with you?”

“You didn’t know that before inviting me out here to smoke with you.”

“First of all, you’re not smoking. You’re just standing there like a dumbass while I smoke. Secondly, I didn’t need to know that to see that you ain’t got a trust fund, kid, ‘cause I almost bought the jacket you’re wearing at the thrift store down the road last week.”

Your surprise must have shown on your face, because he cut you off before you could even begin speaking, “And I know it’s the same one, ‘cause there’s a tiny stain on the sleeve. I only sat next to you because I was gonna point it out to you and then offer you ten bucks for it.”

You just laughed, shaking your head at him.

“I bought it for twelve, so the answer is no,” you replied, picking at the stain on the sleeve that he’d pointed out.

“Whatever,” he mumbled, rolling his eyes for the third time that night, “I’ll find one without a stain.”

“You can barely see it!” you exclaimed, and then, before you could stop yourself, added, “But if you want, we can always go thrifting tomorrow to see if we can find one.”

You had said it before considering the possibility that Han would reject you in the most offensive way possible, which, based on what you knew so far, didn’t seem wildly out of character for him. He was silent for a moment, looking at you as if he had caught you trying to do something sneaky. He seemed like he was about to make fun of you, but to your surprise, he didn’t say anything mean.

“Sure,” was his simple reply.

And the rest was history.

From that moment on, Han had become your closest friend on campus. He was abrasive and rude, but he was real, and he didn’t care that you couldn’t afford to go to Cancun over spring break. He had introduced you to his friend Chewie, a silent stoner type with long, brown hair and a well trimmed goatee. The three of you had formed a little group, and while you didn’t fit in super well with most of your peers, you’d still been having a great time. Even Han, for all of his distaste towards them, had never had any real altercations, and generally seemed pretty happy.

Before you knew it, your second year of college had come to an end, and you at least had two pretty good friends and a solid GPA to show for it, despite the academic rigor of your classes. You celebrated the end of the year at a dive bar, excited for what was to come.

It was only a week into your third year and Han’s fourth when trouble began. You had moved into a shitty apartment with Han and Chewie, the rent not so bad if split three ways, and you had managed to decorate it in a way that made it feel sort of charming. You had just finished hanging a fall wreath when the door flew open, the force behind it causing your new addition to fall. Irritated, you turned to scold Han, but one glance at his face and you knew that you’d have to yell at him for the wreath later, because he looked pissed.

“I can’t take this. I can’t do an entire semester with her. I hate her,” he seethed, throwing his bag on the ground.

Han was an engineering major, which allowed him to be relatively independent and not interact with his classmates too much. Last semester, however, he’d declared a minor in linguistics, realizing that he had quite an affinity for languages. He was already going to have to stay for a fifth year since he had transferred so late and still needed a few more classes for his major, so he’d decided to pursue another interest to make the most of it. The only problem was that one of his linguistics classes was also a popular elective for politics majors, and apparently, Han was starting to develop real issues with one of them.

“Politics major?” you asked, grabbing a beer out of the fridge and offering it to him.

His expression softened for a second and he muttered a silent thanks before launching into his rant again.

“Not just a politics major,” he began, a look of pure contempt in his eyes, “You know the Skywalker twins?”

You nodded. Of course you’d heard of the Skywalker twins. They were the epitome of everything you’d expect a prestigious private university to be—rich, multi talented, and incredibly popular. The girl, Leia, was the student council president, and the boy, Luke, was a star soccer player who had scored the winning point against the school’s number one rival last season and landed them a national championship title. Their reputation transcended the school, though, as their mother was a widely respected senator whose views made her incredibly popular nationwide. Their father was the youngest Air Force pilot in history to receive some kind of honor. He climbed the ranks of the military quickly, but retired from his position and became an outspoken critic of the military several years ago. He’d published a memoir, and then starred in the film remake of said memoir, and his acting was so surprisingly skillful that he now had a career in it. It was as if the Skywalkers succeeded in everything they tried, no matter how unexpected or different the routes they chose were.

You didn’t have any strong feelings about the Skywalkers, and aside from seeing them trend on Twitter every now and then, you hardly thought about them. Han, on the other hand, hated them, and every time he saw one of the twins in passing he’d make some remark about how rich people always wanted to stick their noses where they didn’t belong, ranting about how he thought their mother’s platform was just a campaign strategy and nothing more.

“It’s her. It’s the Skywalker girl. Leia,” he hissed out her name like it was poison, taking a swig of the beer you’d given him to wash it away.

“Ah. Your worst nightmare,” you replied, trying to be sympathetic.

“I know! I don’t think I can do this. She’s got it out for me. Told me to stop smoking cigarettes before class because the smell gives her a headache. Can you believe it?”

Han did need to stop smoking so much, but now probably wasn’t the time to say that.

“And I assume you handled that comment with grace?” you teased.

“Told her she should stop coming to class altogether because her voice gives me a headache. Think her parents are gonna get me kicked out if this keeps going on,” he mumbled.

You sighed, clasping his shoulder and shaking your head.

“Just let it go, Han. You don’t need to start a rivalry with the most distinguished family in the state.”

“You’re right. I’m gonna let it go,” he promised, and you let out a sigh of relief.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Han did not, in fact, let it go. Every Tuesday and Thursday evening, he stormed into the apartment, complaining about something Leia had said to him or something she’d done that just grated on his nerves. He talked about her so much that you and Chewie made a drinking game out of it one day.

This particular Thursday was different. Instead of slamming the door wide open and swearing, he entered the apartment quietly, a slouch in his posture that screamed defeat. You and Chewie had been studying in your living room, appreciating the quiet atmosphere that was sure to be disturbed when Han came home from going to war with Leia again. Only, this time, Han didn’t say a word.

“Penny for your thoughts?” you asked, sitting up a little straighter to take a good look at him.

He sighed, long and dramatic, and slowly took off his shoes.

“Professor got tired of her royal pain in the ass and I arguing,” he confessed, a pained expression overtaking his features.

“What happened? Did you get in trouble?”

“Worse,” he grimaced, looking at you sadly, “We got assigned to work together on the upcoming project.”

You winced, because although you were amused by his dramatic behavior, you really did feel bad for him. This semester had been stretching his patience thin, and this was sure to be the final straw.

“I’m sorry, man,” you told him, Chewie nodding sympathetically, “When’s it due? Does it have to be good?”

“It’s due in three weeks, but it’s worth a big portion of our grade, so she wants to work on it tomorrow. Can you believe that? Friday night, and I’ll be cooped up with the Princess doing research on linguistics. I’d rather drop out. We weren’t even supposed to do this as partners until today. Why would he just drop that on us out of nowhere?”

Probably because you and Leia are at each other’s throats so much that he’s losing his mind and this is his last attempt to force you guys to get along, you thought, but you said nothing.

“Maybe you guys could do it here,” you offered, “I’ll be around for moral support, and we can order a pizza and have some beer so it feels less like a horrible study session and more like the weekend. And if things escalate, I’ll help diffuse the situation.”

A look of relief passed over his face, and he exhaled slowly, nodding.

“That ain’t such a bad idea,” he said, “And if she’s gonna be uptight about it, I’ll tell her we can work on it Sunday night instead, ‘cause I’m not gonna be miserable on a Friday. No way.”

“Perfect,” you told him, smiling, “Chewie and I will make sure the apartment is clean.”

He offered you a small smile—a rarity from Han Solo, and you thought that maybe, things would be okay after all.

#luke skywalker #mark hamill #star wars #luke skywalker fanfiction #luke skywalker imagine #luke skywalker x reader #luke skywalker fluff #luke x reader #star wars imagine #han solo #han solo fanfiction #star wars au #mark hamill x reader

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anakinstwinklebunny · 5 days ago

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Sweetheart dad! Anakin planning a birthday surprise for his wife with the help of their twins!

PAIRING: sweetheart!anakin x f!reader

FLUFF ❦

The morning light barely filtered through the curtains when ANAKIN SKYWALAKER sneaked out of bed, trying to rub the sleep from his eyes. His golden, sun kissed curls were a complete mess, and his sweatpants hang low on his hips as he stretched with a yawn. Well, a rather quiet one because he couldn't have you woken up by now. After all, it was your day today, and he would do anything to make it special to you. Glancing at your peaceful, sleeping form, a grin tugged at his lips.

Time to wake the little troublemakers.

He tiptoed through the hall to the twins’ room, gently pushing the doors wide open to have more space. He kneeled beside Leia’s bed first. Gently, he brushed a curl from her face and whispered, “Hey, sweetheart… wanna surprise Mommy with breakfast?”

At first Leia scrunched up her face in what anakin called 'a princess grump' before actually letting her eyes flutter open after Anakin's gentle pats on her arm. Her face lighted up with excitement. “YES, DADDY!!” she whispered back—well, it was supposed to be a whisper, but the excitement made it a little louder than intended.

Next was Luke. He was curled up, more than Leia was, hugging his stuffed banana plushie (out of his love to bananas). Anakin nudged him lightly. “Luke, bud, c’mon… time to make pancakes.”

Luke groaned dramatically, turning away. “Five more minutes…”

Anakin just huffed a chuckle, rolling his eyes before effortlessly scooping Luke up in his arms. “Nope, sorry, buddy. Time to cook.”

Luke grumbled sleepily as he was carried to the kitchen like a little sack of flour.

And speaking of flour… within five minutes, it was everywhere.

Leia was the egg cracker, but when she went to break one, half the shell falls straight into the batter. “Uh-oh.” Luke, still barely awake, tried to scoop it out with his fingers.

“Ew, Luke, that’s gross!” Leia protested.

“I’m helping,” he argued, and when Anakin came back from looking for pack or sugar stored in the shelves, he just stared down at the batter with a deep sigh. “You know what? A little crunch never hurt anybody.”

Leia stirred with way too much enthusiasm, splattering batter onto her pajamas, the counter, and—Anakin’s face.

Luke was pouring way too much milk, turning the batter into straight-up liquid.

Anakin could feel the heat come up to his face “Okay, okay, that’s enough.” He quickly took the milk away before they would drown the whole thing.

“Are we doing good, Daddy?” Leia asked sweetly, looking up at him with those big, hopeful eyes that were literally the copy of yours.

Anakin sighed at the mess, at the disaster waiting to happen, at the already-burnt first batch of pancakes. But then his eyes moved to catch Leia’s proud smile, Luke’s sleepy determination, and his heart just straight up melted.

“You guys are doing amazing,” he said, ruffling Luke’s curls before kissing their forehead. After a few more mishaps—one of which included a pancake flipping onto the ceiling (which Anakin used Luke to scrub it off) they finally had something resembling a breakfast.

Leia carries the plate (with intense focus, like it was the most important mission of her life), and Luke followed closely behind, still rubbing his sleepy eyes

The second they reach the bedroom, they barreled onto the bed (Anakin made sure to take the tray from Leia before any next, disaster would happen. It was too much of an important day to let in any further mistakes)

“MOMMY, WAKE UP!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY WE MADE YOU PANCAKES!!” Leia shrieked, practically bouncing on the mattress.

Luke climbed up and shoved his face pretty close to yours, whispering, “We made pancakes, mommy..you remember you have birthday, right?"

You blinked groggily, barely opening your eyes before the smell of slightly burnt food hit you. Your eyes caught the smiling, proud twins, awaiting your reaction, and Anakin who stood at the foot of the bed, grinning like a lovesick fool he was, holding a tray.

“Morning, my love.” He leaned down, pressing the gentlest kiss to your forehead. “We may or may not have completely destroyed the kitchen. But happy birthday" he murmured, leaning down again to kiss your lips (twins groaned in disgust)

A smile creaked on your face. Twins sat at near you, hugging you out, kissing your face, making you laugh, before settling down near you. You gaze moved from Anakin, then at the twins, then at the plate of very interesting-looking pancakes that had been set down before you. Some were burnt. Some were weirdly shaped. One looked suspiciously like a boot.

“…What happened to that one?” you asked, pointing at the pancake with a very concerning dent.

Anakin cleared his throat. “We don’t talk about that one.”

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @haydensprettyprincess @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy-deactivated20250 @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet @ysrjune @anakinskwkler @bimbo-baggins17-deactivated2025 @cookybananas @emotionallybruisedx @diorvalentina @sevinax @throughparisallthroughrome @aniiuv @ritosparty @ninastyless @lily-strnlo @thesassypadawan @awhhayden @sydkneez @anisangeldust @l1ttle-misssunsh1ne @anakinca @rubiesarepretty @luluartpop @cloverina @nikiloveshayden

#bunny's replies ૮꒰ ྀི >⸝⸝⸝< ྀི꒱ა #hayden christensen #anakin skywalker #anakin #star wars #anakin skywalker fanfiction #hayden christensen x reader #christensen hayden #haydenchristensen #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x fem reader #anakin skywalker x y/n #anakin skywalker x female reader #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker fluff #anakin skywalker fic #anakin skywalker fanfic

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starkwlkr · 10 months ago

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love potion no. 9 | sebastian vettel

teenage!sebastian vettel

summerween series

Sebastian Vettel was a flop with the chicks. Every girl he talked to would ignore him and walk away. What was wrong with him? Did he have something stuck in his teeth or was it his braces?

He didn’t let it get to his head until he met Y/n L/n. She was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Everything about her was perfect. A girl like Y/n could never be seen with a nerd like me, thought Sebastian. She was the prom queen, everyone liked her, she had the best grades and she was most likely going to Yale or Harvard.

And what did Sebastian have? The reputation of being the school��s biggest nerd. How could he ever be with the most popular girl in school?

It all started when a Halloween dance was announced at school. Everyone was excited for it especially since they could wear costumes. Most couples were already thinking about their couples costumes. Sebastian had nothing in mind. He could go as Beetlejuice or maybe Peter Parker (not Spider-Man, everyone dressed up as Spider-Man). His thoughts were interrupted when his dream girl sat across from him at the table. It was study hall and he spent it in the library along with several other students.

“Hi.” Y/n L/n said to him. “Sorry I didn’t ask, but is it okay if I study here? I can move if you want me to.”

“No!” Sebastian said rather loudly. “Um . . I mean you can stay. No one is sitting there.”

Y/n smiled at him then proceeded to sit across from him. She took out her books and notebook and began to study. Sebastian didn’t get much studying done. He kept glancing at her, wondering if maybe he could start a conversation with her. By the time he actually built up the courage to say something, the bell had rung signaling the end of study hall. Y/n was already gone.

“Stupid.” Sebastian whispered to himself.

The days leading up to Halloween dance were pure hell for Sebastian. He heard many rumors that Jason, the most popular boy in school, was going to ask Y/n to the dance. That couldn’t happen, no! Sebastian needed to take you to the dance. Since it was a costume required dance, he needed the best costume to impress you so he looked through his old yearbooks and pulled up the class pictures from grade school. He found her name and read over her likes and dislikes, hobbies, and what she wished to be when she grew up. Every kid had a page like that, some kids changed, no longer liking Barbie or toy cars, but Sebastian never did. He still liked comics, cars, old movies.

You never changed either.

Likes: Star Wars, the color pink, almond M&M’s

That’s it! Star Wars was his answer. It was pretty obvious that Y/n would chose to go as Princess Leia so Sebastian bought pieces of clothing to resemble Han Solo. He hoped that she would be impressed.

The day of the dance finally came and Sebastian was nervous. All around him people were dressed as witches, pirates, devils and angels and what was he dressed as? The captain of the millennium falcon.

He stood around hoping to spot Y/n, but there was no sign of her. Maybe she stayed home . . . This was a stupid idea anyway. Sebastian was defeated so he walked to the gym door and was about to leave when he bumped into Y/n in her costume.

“Holy shit! Han Solo!” She gasped when she saw Sebastian in costume.

“Princess Leia . . .” He cracked a smile. Y/n was dressed in Leila’s outfit from The Empire Strikes Back. “Hi.” He shyly said.

“Hi, Seb! I didn’t know you liked Star Wars? I love it! My brothers don’t so I really have no one to talk to about it, but maybe you and I could—”

“Y/n!” A friend of hers ran up to Sebastian and Y/n. “What are you wearing? We agreed to be cats!” She gestured to the fake drawn on whiskers and cat ear headband. “You look . . ”

“Pretty. She looks pretty.” Sebastian cut in. He really didn’t know where he got the confidence to speak up, but he was glad he did.

“Sure,” her friend rolled her eyes. “I don’t think Jason would like a prude for a girlfriend.”

“Well I’m not here with Jason.” Y/n stated. She then grabbed Sebastian’s hand and pulled him away from her friend. “You can have him!” She and Sebastian ran down the hall to god knows where. Sebastian didn’t really care in the moment. He could believe he was holding hands with her, especially dressed as Han Solo and Princess Leia.

Y/n and Sebastian ended up in the art room where they were laying on the rug staring at the painted ceiling.

“And don’t even get me started on all my ‘friends’! One of them called my dad hot! It was so uncomfortable so I stopped inviting them to my house.” Y/n revealed. She laughed it off knowing she was never going back to her friends.

“Oh god.” Sebastian chuckled. “I didn’t realize you knew my name.” He changed the topic.

“I’ve always known. We’ve been in each other’s classes since grade school!” Y/n pointed out. “You’re a really cool person, Seb, and I really like being with you.”

“You’re the only person who calls me Seb, you know. I like it.”

Y/n giggled. “Did you drink some of the punch?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Amber Marsh spiked the punch.”

So that’s where the confidence came from. Thank you Amber Marsh I guess, thought Sebastian. He couldn’t remember how many times he had gotten punch.

“Y/n?”

“Yeah?” The boy and girl continued looking at the painted stars on the ceiling.

“I like you.” He admitted.

“I know.”

That was the closest they got to their Han and Leia moment until a year later when Sebastian finally said ‘I love you’ to Y/n. She replied with the classic ‘I know’ line that made Sebastian’s nerdy teenage heart melt.

TAGLIST

@yannew @annieoncrack @stinkyjax

#formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #sebastian vettel fluff #sebastian vettel x reader #sv5 fanfic #sebastian vettel one shot #sebastian vettel imagine #sebastian vettel fanfic #sebastian vettel fanfiction #sv5 #sv5 x reader #sv5 imagine #summerween series

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missmarveledsblog · 6 months ago

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Not so solo after all ( fanboy x fan girl ( reader) )

summary : when our fanboy thinks he spending halloween without his girl she surprises him in more ways then one

warnings : it a day late soz but here is a halloween themed fic sort of goes with the fan girl fic i wrote but can be read alone , smutty but not smtty 18+

Fan girl

Halloween was a night of no judgment all nerd could dress as whatever they want and no one bats a lid only this was even better she was surprising her boyfriend given the two thought she was coming days later . the flights overbook and misbooking of her own tickets til she was able to get last minute she spent the three hour flight perfecting her hair and makeup . she had costume or costumes since she had a special one underneath , she was excited more excited than she’d been in a good long while . it was like a nerd like fairytale meeting mickey garcia , the fact the two had such similar mindsets, both so emersed in the nerd culture it was refreshing plus also exciting in more ways than one . now she was sitting in the car as nat was talking her ear off , a promise to do the female aviators makeup before they headed to the hard deck . she put her bags in as two enjoyed the emptiness of the house pulling the make up out getting to work making nat the sexiest and scariest black cat ironic to bob saying he was going to be golden retriever suiting both personalities to a tea .

“ so does fanboy know your dressing as his literal dream come through ?” the brunette smirked.

“ nope he doesn’t even know i’m in san diego , plus i send him like a million other costumes so” she giggled .

“ but you know he’s gonna be han solo , i love it i can’t wait for him to short circuit it’s gonna be amazing” she rubbed her gloved hands together.

“ i mean it’s skimpy leia costume but the real one is underneath”

“You didn’t … the bikini thing even hangman knows that one “ nat snorted .

“ hey i mean it’s an iconic moment “ she shrugged .

“ you might actually kill the poor guy you do know that?”

“ i’m hoping he kills me or leaves me legless either is good “ she winked .

“ too much information but also get it “ nat smirked texting the guys she would be there soon just bringing a friend only for her phone to blow up from jake and rooster asking if she’s hot and a dibs wars soon spammed in the groupchat . “ i didn’t even say if it was a girl or not “ she shook her head looking down at the phone .

“ well pretty kitty lets blow them away shall we” y/n beamed .

He tried honestly he did , it was hard not to be a downer when the one person who could fully appreciate the effort and accuracy of the costume wasn’t there or mainly he was just missing his girl and hadn’t heard anything from in hours . bob did tell him she helped with haunted house back when she was home so he understood she would be busy giving kids and teens the joys of the halloween spirit but then again should he be listening to a man who looked like a golden retriever hybrid .

“ hey come on lets have a good night “ rooster who was by far laziest of costume telling people he was tom selleck in magnum pi although it was his normal clothes.

“ he’s all pouty missing his girl “ payback rolled his eyes dressed as blade patted fanboy back rolling his eyes .

“ i would too if my girl was hot as his .. what it’s truth “ hangman rolled his eyes dressed as cowboy ken doll ascot and cowboy hat suited him perfectly.

“ we just need to distract him is all “ javy shrugged dressed as tarzan if tarzan was GQ model that was . the boys tried their best cheering him up all banter and fun as he started to loosen up a little although he did check his phone and embarrassing amount of times or ignored rooster and hangman's dibs on phoenix mystery friend not that he cared much for it til the cheers and whistles erupted when the door or the hard deck opened he didn’t bother looking up not once he was smiling at the screensaver selfie of them chilling and cozy wrapped up together.

“ holy shit fanboy your gonna lose your little mind “ was all he heard jake saying as he looked up going to look at the man quick glance at the approaching figure before looking back and his jaw hitting that ground so fast he was sure it would fall off . looking up he had to of die and went to a galaxy far far away when he took in the sight of the woman he fell hard and fast for . he knew who she was a mile away although hers was more form fitting and short but she was the leia to his han solo . a quick and barely there hello as he ran past nat on to grab his girl in his arms lifting her up in his arms as she giggled .

“ how .. what .. wow “ he beamed placing her down taking her in the white gown and her hair all scream both leia and sex appeal all in one . the white gown hitting tops of her thighs and although it was still turtle neck ( hiding the collar ) , the chest of had a cut out section show casing her cleavage and still concealing everything at same time , the belt was attaching to a corset , she made sure it was fitted to show enough and not ruin the surprise underneath .

“ my mom’s friend gave me her ticket since she wasn’t able to fly so i thought i would surprise you “ she laughed as he kissed every part of her face.

“Well darling ain’t you looking good to beam me up and take me away in the tardis “ jake winked as she looked personally offended so did fanboy .

“ the tardis is doctor who “

“ beam me up is star trek “

“ same thing right ?” he asked .

“ even i know it’s not “ rooster snorted .

“ let me get you a drink princess “ fanboy turned his cheek hurting from the smiling taking her hand leading her to the bar to see both mav and penny behind the bar dress as sunny and cher .

The night actually truly starting , he still couldn’t get over how lucky he was or the way he stood taller when he noticed people giving him a thumbs up when they saw her on his arm . the fact she was dress as the first woman he’s ever had one an awakening to or been his major celebrity crush since he was little boy only made it hundred times better. He couldn’t keep his hands off of her whether the touches were innocent or not so innocent . Kisses turning more sloppy , more heated signaling it was definitely time to leave . a quick goodbye to her brother and there friends the two headed out into the night air the whole time hands and lips not separated to lost in each other .

The journey home was pretty much the same only the touches on her skin teasingly as he talk to the uber driver purpose torturing his girl knowing it was driving her crazy , hand on her thigh gliding up and squeezing the plus soft skin as he could see her side glance biting her lip suppressing any sound that might come from those heavenly lips . sometimes moment like this it was hard to believe she was his , this incredible goddess like woman that was his to have. She was fighting it , fighting the desperate neediness that was dying to come out . when they finally arrived back at his place it was like she could thank whoever for finally cutting the torture . a quick goodbye to the driver and the two were gone almost running to the house. Kissing his cheek , his neck suddenly the man didn’t know how to use a key so focused on her touch he stood hover over the lock til she took them in her hands unlocking the door.

“ i can’t wait anymore and been dying to show you my surprise” she winked heading off to his room dropping and pulling off her costume as he followed behind at this rate he was sure he was under some spell floating in the direction of his bedroom ready to be the solo to her leia . then it all stopped his breathing , thinking , shit he really died and went to nerd central heaven . it was perfect every part almost spot on accurate as he took in the browns , golds and blue of the lack of clothing . like it couldn’t get better she took her bag clipping the chain to the collar .

“ the hair isn’t leia anymore but i think it still works “ she laughed as her hair fell from the buns sitting messy and wild shit it really did .

“ fucking hell baby .. this was what was under your dress the whole time ?” he groaned coming toward one part of him didn’t wanna touch her , like she was mint condition couldn’t take it out of the box and another part of him wanted to tear the box to shreds and enjoy his present . the soft nod confirmed the answer to his question. Then it was like he came back to reality and a fire breaking through pulling the chain pulling her to him kissing ever part of her skin soft moans and whimpers falling from her lips pulling back looking into her almost black eyes , the rise and fall of her chest and the curl of her lip when she slowly fell to her knees and he swore his love was out to kill him tonight if it was it was working. That doe eyed looking up at him , hand going to his pant as he yanked the chain making her jolt forward , looking back up to see him smirking , coming to to his sense in a dangerous grin .

“ ready to see the galaxies baby “ he smirked leaning down making her breathe hitch knowing she was done for but fuck was she excited for it

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triscribeaucollection · 6 months ago

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Daughter

(/SLAMS a new Time Traveler General Leia fic on the table for Whumptober)

My second cousin, once removed.

That was how Padmé introduced her, to fellow Senators, to Jedi and clone troopers, even to Palpatine himself, mere hours before his dramatic death. In the chaos that followed, very few eyes gave the matronly woman at Padmé’s side so much as a second glance.

Their mistake.

“We’ve received word from Onderon,” Sabé called out, on the other side of the sitting room. “Steela Gerrera and Lux Bonteri confirmed their attendance at the peace talks.”

Padmé hummed, flicking through her list of accepted invitations, refusals, and undecided systems who could potentially be swayed one way or the other. With the losses of Grievous, Dooku, and now the puppetmaster Sidious, the Confederacy had fairly quickly fallen apart; the Banking Clan, Commerce Guild, Techno Union and others only able to hold off from profit-driven in-fighting for so long. With the facade of their ‘dedication’ to the cause collapsing in upon itself, more and more Separatist worlds were deciding they would, perhaps, like to come back to a Republic eagerly tearing itself free of corruptive influence.

Nearly two hundred Senators and lesser politicians had already been ousted from their positions on charges of accepting bribes, engaging in fraud, and colluding to grant more extravagant emergency powers to the Chancellor.

Padmé, her handmaidens, and their unexpected savior remained hard at work to ensure the continued momentum of their successes.

At least until a chirp upon her comlink indicated the arrival of a guest.

“No need,” Padmé told the others as she stood, halting a shuffle to hide incriminating datapads out of sight beneath blankets and within bags of personal hygiene items. “It’s only Bail and Fox.”

Sabé, Dormé and the rest relaxed, returning to their tasks. Only the oldest woman in the room remained tense, sharp gaze following Padmé while she hurried to the main door.

As one of the strongest candidates for Chancellor, Bail needed to remain under armed protection at all times. Fortunately, dressing inconspicuously and being accompanied by an aggrieved Commander Fox counted - at least as far as Bail himself was concerned. Fox, on the other hand, began grumbling under his breath the moment they cleared Padmé’s external security and entered the apartment foyer. “Can’t wait until morning, or a proper escort, no, he needs to come visit now in an unarmored speeder-”

“I’m afraid I’ll need to donate quite a few cartons of pastries to the Guard offices tomorrow,” Bail murmured, smiling even as he slipped off his dark cloak. “And possibly a new caf machine.”

“Three caf machines,” Fox huffed. “The shinies keep trying to experiment every time you send another one.” He rolled his eyes quite dramatically, after pulling off his helmet.

A year before, opening up and airing his annoyance so clearly in front of non-clones would have been unthinkable for the commander. It delighted Padmé each and every time she was allowed to bear witness to the easing of that wall, as well as its latest, near total collapse; the removal of whatever influence Sidious was exuding over the Coruscant Guard seemed to have done wonders for lifting a weight off Fox’s shoulders, and his inhibitions at the same time.

Which wasn’t to say the man didn’t still perform his job admirably. A hint of sound drew his eyes instantly towards the doorway to the living room, fingers twitching towards holsters before they went still.

“Leia,” Padmé said, even before turning around. “May I present Guard Commander Fox? And Bail you know, of course.”

“Of course,” the woman replied, voice dry, one brow raised ever so slightly. “Commander. Senator.”

Fox let out a soft grunt, flicking his gaze back and forth between the two women. “...resemblance is definitely stronger, when you two aren’t in uniform.”

‘Dressed up’, others might say, but Padmé felt the word uniform had the right of it, when she needed to step into the role of Naboo’s representative and carry the expected image thereof. Leia, for her part, had spent most of the past several days in a much less eye-catching series of dark grey and blue outfits: just elaborate enough to pass muster as Padmé’s relation and assistant, with plenty of concealed pockets for weaponry, but otherwise quite plain. With their hair hanging loose and both in practical sleepwear, however, Fox certainly had the right of it.

They looked like mother and daughter.

Only, in reverse of the actual family tree.

“I realize this may be futile, considering whom I’m asking,” Padmé murmured, looking at the woman who would have been her child in another life. “But would you two consider helping me convince her to take a break before she burns out?” Despite her gentle tone, the words caused annoyance to flicker across Leia’s face, and something in how she tipped her chin- adjusted her stance- reminded Padmé viscerally of Anakin.

From battlefield to Separatist space to Coruscant, Leia had maintained a whirlwind of activity, removing major players from the board and only briefing pausing to actually introduce herself to others. In the week since Padmé met her, she didn’t think Leia had taken more than four or five hours rest each night, too focused on assassinating Palpatine and setting the rest of their political purge in motion. Even since successfully killing the Sith, she’d remained intent on continuing to work, to restore the Republic before it could finish falling apart.

Fox, who substituted spite for sleep and drank at least six cups of caf per day, only snorted.

Bail proved more useful.

The tall man stepped forward, reaching, and like a planet drawn to its sun, Leia came closer as well to grasp his hands. “However the election results turn out, I will be returning to Alderaan for a few days afterward. Would you consider accompanying me?”

Leia froze. It took a long moment for her jaw to flex, for the question to creep out, “Are you- certain?”

“I’ve already sent a coded message to inform Breha about you,” Bail answered, equally quiet. “She’d like to speak in person, whenever you have time for a call.”

Motion rippled through the woman, too large for a tremble, too subdued for a shudder. Her eyes darted towards Padmé, who smiled. “The console in my chamber is triple-encrypted. No one will interrupt you.”

Several more seconds passed, before Leia jerked her head in a nod. She held herself so rigidly, so constantly, a general poised over her battlefield holotable, never ceasing in her planning and commands and constant self-control. For an instant, though- for an instant, holding onto Bail’s open hands and sagging ever so slightly, Padmé saw instead a girl who’d lost too much, too fast, and desperately hoped to get even some small measure of it back.

When the two Organa senators went to place their call, Fox let out a deep breath and sagged in place himself. “Alright. Maybe that was worth coming out here in the middle of the night.”

Padmé hid a grin, threading her arm around his and carefully towing the commander along to join her handmaidens. “I wonder, if you stay involved with Bail and Breha, whether or not Leia will agree to come intimidate your shinies out of experimenting with the caf machines?”

“Ha.”

#star wars #time travel #general leia organa #padme amidala #bail organa #commander fox #the clone wars fix-it

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philtstone · 2 months ago

Note

For the mini fic ask game? Han and Leia?

12. things you said when you thought i was asleep

pretty much immediately post-rotj. also on ao3

Leia wakes up sticky and comfortably sore.

"No. No, the other thing -- you know what it looks like. Oh, now you're gonna be offended that I don't like all your hair?"

There's half a warm body draped against her. She'd know the uncoordinated press of Han's hairy knee against her ass in this too-small ship bunk anywhere; six months was not nearly long enough for such things to be forgotten.

Her mind crawls out of sleep-state just enough to understand the next string of Shyrriwook rumbling through the room.

"If I don't do it now it'll get everywhere," Han mutters in response. "In little balls."

You humans are so unsanitary, says Chewie.

"You say that. Then you clog up my poor ship's vents with fuzz."

"Chewbacca and I are getting our own ship," Leia announces, without opening her eyes. "Shag carpet. Better than the expensive Myrnian pelts in the Imperial core."

The warm body against her stiffens. She cracks an eye open to catch her guilty lover with the auto-power hand vacuum hovering over their pillows.

"It gets in my mouth," Han says, apologetic. He's mostly unclothed. Right -- last night. One cycle in the Ewok huts with drunk rebels and drying meat next door was more than enough for them. Anyway, Leia has been processing, and she doesn't like doing that in public. She pushes herself into a sitting position.

"Han," she says, realizing. "You ass, you called Chewie in here while I'm lying in this bunk without any --"

"He's outside," Han interrupts, rolling his eyes. "Relax. I reached. Cracked door. Long arms," he stretches them above his head, only preening a little, "Princess, this is the Falcon, not a royal cruiser."

Remember? Snarky little lilt to that unspoken question, but Leia concedes it's a fair one. So much has happened over the last forty-eight hours that she's having a hard time keeping track of everything in her head. She pushes two hands against her bare back in a stretch and shoves her feet out against the cramped bunk's wall. Of course she remembers now: his shithole ship. That she practically lived in for six months. Looking for him.

Kriff, Leia did not expect to feel this maddeningly vulnerable seconds after awakening. She thought she'd paid her dues, that night Luke dashed off to confront (defend? redeem? protect?) Vader and she had to ask Han to hold her. Next morning, when Luke came to her pale faced and quietly devastated, and she couldn't bring herself to hold him. Eight hours ago when she started crying all tangled up on the bunk after Han slumped sweaty on top of her and she suddenly felt every emotion she's ever had in entire duration of her lifetime at once.

Maybe it's the Force. After all, she's related to -- fingers clenching -- Luke, isn't she?

She watches Han suck up all her hair into his little vacuum and shut the thing off, inspecting it.

"Half of that is Chewie's," she says.

He puts it aside, then puts his elbows on his knees. Han's all elbows and knees sometimes. He's also putting on quite a show, sitting like that. Leia wrinkles her nose at him.

"Jeez, Leia," he says, kind of laughing, which means he's not yet back to normal enough to not feel a little bit insecure -- now she feels bad. Kriff, again.

At least the Emperor's dead. Leia thinks she's going to be using that one as a standby comfort whenever she feels like Bantha shit for -- oh, decades to come, probably.

"You sound like Luke," she says, without thinking. Then she kisses his cheek -- zor fruit branch, if you will. Leia's a trained diplomat.

"Saw him, earlier."

"Dressed like this?"

"I dressed," Han says, wry but patient. "I woke up. Went out. Saw him. Came back."

"Stripped," Leia offers. "For what? Effect?"

"You feel good," Han says. "Your skin's real soft. I missed you."

It's a touch more sincere than she can deal with, right now, but also just the right amount of sincere, and she really wants to kiss him again, but they're talking about Luke -- who she needs to see, and comfort, because he's Luke and he's her Luke and he's their Luke and he's her brother -- anyway, kriff, Leia thinks. Third time's the charm.

At least the karking Emperor's dead.

"He's okay," Han tells her. He's lost weight. She had that thought when he was first getting his eyesight back and has it again now. Another reminder of that six months. Remember? Leia wrinkles her nose a second time -- "Well, no he's not. But," Han waves a hand, "the way you are."

"I," Leia says, "am not okay."

The Emperor. Dead.

Luke's father. Dead.

Leia stares down at her own naked legs.

"Alright," Han says, eyebrows raised like he is almost impressed and probably a little bit worried at the ease of this admission. Leia brushes a bit of hair out of her face impatiently. The two braids she's got her hair in, the style she always wears to bed, hang heavy down her bare back. Alert the holonet, she thinks. Only took her three years to admit.

"You made me all sore," she accuses him.

"You weren't complaining. Just made a lotta bossy commands. Hey, Leia," She can't believe he's been vacuuming up her hair when she isn't looking -- it shouldn't feel embarrassing, and it's not, but it's -- silly. That's what Leia thinks. The kind of domestic nonsense that one can and should laugh at. Since Bespin ...? "I'm serious, you can't just avoid him."

She focuses. Glares.

"I am not avoiding my brother."

Again, Han is impressed, this time by her very pointed word choice. Still a touch too mystified by the revelation -- Force, Leia thinks, it should've been so obvious, down to the twin ropes of hair down her back -- but, "Fine. In that case, we shower, I finish vacuuming, and you go find him."

She'll have to dodge Command on her way. Maybe Wicket can help her.

"I'm not talking about -- it," Leia says. Him could be too many people, Luke included. It is sufficiently broad, and sufficiently disparaging, and sufficiently avoidant.

Han only twirls two fingers around braid on the left, tugging at it with his clever spacer's fingers. He's always been unnaturally fascinated when her hair's unbound. The expression on his face says you don't have to talk to Luke about his father and the heat of his body says I wanna make you sore again and the gently pull of his fingers says I love you.

Leia knows all of that. Mostly.

"Okay," she says. "Alright."

With perfect timing, Chewbacca roars outside the cabin door: Lando kriffed the coolant system by turning the steer too hard, like I told him not to do. We have a bad leak, Han. It is getting everywhere. Into the mainframe wiring.

"Kriff," Han says it this time, loud and with gusto.

It will get worst if you spend all day in the Princess's mane.

"I told him to go easy on her," Han moans, abandoning her and getting up almost on autopilot to tug his pants on. "Don't worry, girl. We'll fix you up."

Leia rolls her eyes, but pats the claustrophobic hull of their beloved junk pile consolingly anyway.

"I don't have a mane," she says, just to be difficult. Luke, she thinks. Her twelve hours of hiding have proved counterproductive; she kind of really misses him. Han throws her a look and a scoundrel grin over his shoulder.

"Your Shyrriwook's still a little rusty, sweetheart. Chewie gets vulgar around family."

It's been three days. The Emperor is dead. The Falcon is just as irritatingly cramped as ever. She's used to being someone's princess, someone's commanding officer, someone's fighter, someone's daughter and -- recently -- someone's lover.

Time to face day one as a sister. In spite of herself, Leia smiles.

#my writing #star wars #leia organa #han solo #return of the jedi #things you said prompt meme #original trilogy #luke skywalker #chewbacca #han x leia #scoundress #hanleia

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