#maybe i just need to stop going to tatooine first i just get stressed that I'll lose bastila

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

Howdy, so I don't know if you have seen The Last of Us, but if you have, you know the scene where Joel saves Ellie from the hospital and he just ploughs through everyone and its like wow -///-

I just think it would be a really cool like drabble if this was a Din x reader fic? Only if you wanted to write it though!! Also I'm so happy that I'm on your taglist for inevitable because I jump to read it every time that I see that I've been tagged, it has me in a chokehold and the way that you write the reader is so damn good.

Your writing is something that brings comfort to me every week, and the way you interact and talk to your followers is so sweet. I love coming back from a stressful day to sit down somewhere comfortable to enjoy your work.

Anyways thanks for reading this ramble of an ask and I hope that you're doing well :)

[a/n]: combining some stuff here! this is for the anon who asked for this scene AND for @cockscombkingdom who asked for a fic in Din's POV where he takes care of reader and keeps her safe. I started with the plan to make this very sweet and fluffy and I'm not gonna lie a little darkness seeped into it. my bad.

also in case it isn't abundantly clear i am a joel miller apologist thx

Din Djarin x Female!Reader

Warnings: Violence, death, injuries, mild dark!din (if you squint and/or have a problem with murder)

Word Count: 1,440

Summary: You were selfless. You gave and you gave and you gave. The universe planned to only take more, but Din Djarin would be damned if he let it.

LOOK FOR THE LIGHT

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"you'd just come after her." -Joel Miller (TLOU)

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Din was worried about you. He was always worried about you because you were always on his mind. It couldn’t be helped. Somebody had to because it seemed like you were perpetually too worried about everyone else. Din admired that about you. He always had. You went out of your way to help anyone and everyone who approached. You had a heart that was always willing to give, and it left you too little to use for yourself.

When the two of you first began traveling together, he noticed that about you. Sometimes you’d get so preoccupied watching Grogu you’d forget to eat. Peli had once put you to work, organizing her tools as part of the payment to fix the Razor Crest, and you had been so focused on getting the work done well that you had taken no breaks and ended up dehydrated and weak under Tatooine’s hot suns. It’s why the mission he was delivering you to made such simple sense to him. You were special, is what you told him. Din knew you were special, felt it, but it was for very different reasons. According to you, there was something in your blood, some type of cell, that could cure a lot of people of some terrible, terrible disease spreading through a world in the Outer Rim.

Din tried to keep his distance from you. Tried to not get attached. But you were so selfless, that it naturally brought out his protective side. He couldn't help but care for you, but caring for you as a responsibility had quickly turned to loving you along the way. Din didn’t know a lot about love. Didn’t have much experience with it, lust was easier to grasp, and that left him confused most of the time. Din had no idea how to express what he felt for you, how to explain it in words, so he did the only thing he could do. Din took care of you. Kept you safe when he stopped to pick up quarries, made sure you remembered to eat and drink water, reminded you to go to bed and when you would eventually forget anyways he’d carry you there himself. Din didn't know what love was supposed to feel like, but what he did know was that being without you made his heart physically ache and protecting you brought him happiness. 

Maybe that’s all he needed to know.

‘It’ll be okay.’ You had promised him with a smile that made your features glow. ‘Shouldn’t take long.’

That had been hours ago. Din delivered you to the medical facility as he had been hired, but when you hadn’t come back out he sought after you. It’s why he now sat in a small room, Imperials flanking the door, as he simmered in disdain. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

“Mandalorian.” A man stepped into the room. A doctor from the looks of it with thin, round rimmed glasses. The name ‘Pershing’ pinned to his lapel. Din stayed silent. “I was under the impression that you had been paid. Was there an issue?”

“No.” Din replied. “Where is she?”

Dr. Pershing paused and shook his head as if confused. Din tilted his head a bit, an obvious threat in body language, and the doctor was smart enough to realize this. He nervously cleared his throat. “She is being prepared for her operation.” Din narrowed his eyes in confusion. You told him they’d just need your blood. “There is no reason for you to stay.”

“I promised her a ride back.”

There was a tense silence that filled the room at his words. Din watched the doctor squirm where he stood and he needed no further clarification. He shoved up from the table, prepared for a fight, when the Imperials leveled their own weapons at him before he could reach his blaster.

Dr. Pershing held his hands up in a placating manner. “She will be a hero. After we drain her of all her blood, we can make a cure. There’s a 65% chance this will work and save the people of this world.” Din was fuming under his armor. Drain your blood? They were going to kill you. They were going to kill you for something that only had a 65% chance of even working. “She will not be in pain! She’s been put under! She will not feel a thing, and we did not scare her with the news.” Din staggered back as if he had been physically hit. Was this man saying… Dr. Pershing confirmed Din’s thoughts. “We did not tell her this would kill her. We spared her that misery. She went under anesthesia peacefully.”

The words echoed in Din’s head loudly. As if a bomb had gone off right beside him and left him deaf and blind. He walked on autopilot as the Imperials escorted him through the building toward the exit. They were going to kill you. They were going to kill you for a shot in the dark cure. Din was literally paces to the door when his boots stilled. The Imperials shoved him, tried to get him to move, threatened to shoot him, and then Din snapped.

With the practiced precision of a bounty hunter and Mandalorian who spent most of his life in a fight, Din spun and cut down the Imperials in one swift movement. The darksaber glowed angry in his hands, casting threatening shadows down the hall. Never before had the sword worked so well for him, but as Din marched through the facility it was practically an extension of himself. Blaster fire pinged off his beskar and he did not hesitate. If a person stepped into his path he eliminated them. Cold. Ruthless. A predator. Din stalked the medical facility searching for you, and he left a wake of death and destruction in his path.

When he finally caught sight of you, through a window into some kind of clean room. Din felt his heart flutter in his chest. The first twinge of emotion since starting this rampage. It was a reminder of why he was doing this. A reminder that his actions were necessary.

Din stormed into the room, his eyes not leaving your unconscious form as you laid on a table in a hospital gown. The staff in the room panicked in a flurry, and one of them⏤ maybe the doctor maybe a nurse, Din didn’t even register who the kriff it was⏤ rushed him in a poor attempt to stop this onslaught. Din cut them down without blinking. Without taking his eyes off of you. The second you were in his arms, Din felt marginally settled. He wasn’t going to lose you, couldn’t lose you. Din had sworn to himself that he’d take care of you, it was all he knew how to do, and he wasn’t going to stop for the sake of anyone.

Not even the sake of a world.

As Din carried you out of the building it occurred to him that he may be dooming an entire population of people. This world’s chances of survival were dropping from 65% to 0%. He knew that he should care. He knew that this information should bother him. That it should make his steps more hesitant and make his chest ache in indecision, but it didn’t. His choice had never been more clear to him. It was either this world or you. Din was choosing you. He’d always choose you.

When back on the ship, Din had only carried you a few steps when gasping could be heard. He turned around to see Dr. Pershing at the end of the ramp holding a blaster at him. The man was breathing hard, face red, as if he had sprinted all the way here to stop this from happening. Din had to admire his dedication. The man believed in this cause so much he was willing to go head to head with a Mandalorian who had just single handedly cleared out a medical facility. 

“I can’t let you do this.” Dr. Pershing snapped. “You’re dooming this world if you take her!”

A blaster fired. Dr. Pershing stumbled back, a hole in his chest, and Din held his blaster firm in his hand. Your legs draped over that arm had hidden his weapon well. A strangled gasp left the man’s lips and he collapsed into a motionless pile. Din shook his head, responding to a dead man’s words, “I don’t care.”

Din would protect you under any and all circumstances.

 Was that love?

[artemissoteira]

I always feel like I should replay k/tor 1 for the objectively better story, but esp the early game taris/dantooine is just much less fun for me than peragus/telos/nar shadda in k/tor 2 so I always burn myself out and don't finish my playthroughs. when I was a kid my CD would also routinely crash during the swoop race for bastila so I have played taris specifically TOO many times and it's very tinged with frustration for me lol.

like revan's is definitely a tighter narrative (and... an actually finished game. K2 restored content mod my beloved) but I LOVE all the silly little mechanical quirks of K2. knowing all the influence checks to turn allies into Jedi, cheesing alignment to get mira/hanharr and still max the other direction, ranged and unarmed builds (K1's hard cap at lvl 20 stresses me out even though I know it's not that serious)... the fact that rapid shot is the only ranged feat that works with force speed bc the code is broken... handmaiden's gay ass and whatever the FUCK is going on with atris' blatant crush on the exile...

that being said bastila WAS retrospectively a very formative gay crush for me and juhani/belaya DOES slap. but maybe I should just go to AO3 and lower my standards again 🤔

[phoenixyfriend]

Anakin Assists the Jedi Council While On Medical Leave

AU brainstormed primarily by @atagotiak, @gelpenss, and myself.

Basically, a fix-it based in Anakin getting a peek into the daily life on the Council early, and accidentally Figuring Some Shit Out along the way, mostly because Palps Fucks Up.

So, Anakin gets injured in a way that limits him to Coruscant for a few weeks. He can still walk and talk, but he can't fight. The specific injury doesn't matter, just this:

Anakin runs errands on behalf of the council and sits in on meetings to take minutes as a "you're on medical leave but we need all hands on deck, congrats you get to be the secretary until we can send you on stabbing missions again" thing.

Also, there just aren't a whole lot of people with Anakin's clearance level. They had to send out Stass Allie to handle the mission that was originally next on Anakin's roster, and Anakin's the most convenient person to substitute into her position.

He's not super happy about this but he can more or less understand the point of it. Given that he gets antsy about needing to fight almost immediately, he can acknowledge the worth of having something useful to do, if only as the person who's writing down who says what and making sure everyone has the right file on hand.

(Besides, Obi-Wan jokes in a way that Anakin thinks might be encouraging, this is good practice if Anakin ever wants to be on the High Council himself!)

(This is a very helpful conversation.)

BASICALLY, Anakin is resigned to this but agrees because "Usually we have Master Allie handle this but we need her running that mission that was originally set for the 501st, so you get to fill in for her until you can switch back. Think of it as training for eventual mastery or admin or--listen, we're just really stretched thin."

Here's the key thing, though: Anakin isn't supposed to leave the Temple, for medical reasons, so Palpatine doesn't know Anakin is sitting in on Council meetings. They haven't met up since Anakin's last surgery, and because [muffled hand-wave reason] he didn't find out another way, like Anakin comming him or the Council giving him the heads-up about the change in attendance.

It's fine. He's just taking notes and doing preparatory research, he has the clearance, the Chancellor likes him anyway. Hell, they'd have had someone's Padawan doing this, before the war increased the necessary clearance levels. They'll toss in a quick message in the brief they send to Palps that he never reads anyway, and that's really all they need to do. Skywalker's getting some rounded experience and this way the medics won't be freaking out about him stressing his heart after getting electrocuted by trying to spar too early.

Palpatine doesn't talk directly to the Council, he just sends a recording the first time Anakin is there. It's a bit weird, but nothing goes wrong. Anakin's off-screen from whatever device they use to send a response, since he's not technically a member, just assisting for a bit on the part of Master Allie's duties that he's actually allowed to touch (and not the bits that are getting added to Mace, Plo, and Shaak's stuff).

The first four or so meetings are like that. Anakin starts having a bit of sympathy for the Council as he sees how many things they want to do that are hampered by the need for Senatorial approval, things that he would also want to do and didn't think required this much red tape.

About a week in, still mostly recordings with Anakin just sitting on the side playing paralegal, the wheel of fortune turns a few pegs.

Palpatine hands over a an order on the range of injury that a soldier should be treated for, "to ensure that republic resources aren't being wasted on clones that, while expensive, would actually be cheaper to replace than repair."

Oh, he dresses it up in prettier language than that. Anakin doesn't process it as such first.

The Chancellor manages to couch his phrasing in "prioritizing resources for taxpaying republic citizens and employees of the GAR," which... well.

The natborn commissioned officers pay taxes. The Jedi are employees. The clones are neither, because they're slaves.

Probably he frames it as the employees thing, very much the kinda language that sounds halfway ok unless you’re fluent in political bullshit.

And Anakin is really confused at first about why the council is upset by the order because, okay, he would PREFER to be able to use medical supplies on refugees when possible, but he understands prioritizing the soldiers?

He just looks up, totally lost, when someone groans and goes, "That's the third time this year, is he trying to get us all killed?"

And it vibes as such a genuine, aggrieved, sad reaction that Anakin is completely blindsided because it's not the sarcastic, petty resentment he kind of expected? It's just... desperate depression.

And someone gently has to explain that this is the third time they've had resources restricted to only GAR employees and that it's a polite way of saying "prioritize natborn officers, stop wasting resources on clones, we can replace them easier."

Or maybe he doesn't ask, because he's just there to take notes, not argue, and he can see the masters drawing up a response that amounts to "We would like to remind you that our soldiers do not fall into that classification, and to limit their access to our medical supplies is liable to cause a loss of life that we find unreasonably high. Please see the annotations attached to adjust wording so that the clones may receive the same level of care."

Anakin's internally just like "Yeah, that's phrased nice and addresses the main problem, Palpatine will obviously agree and change it!"

And then he comes in the next day and the response comes in and it's just dripping condescension about considering the clones actual people.

"This is why we can't use the bacta tanks on clones anymore, just the patches. We could use them at first, we had a few of the CCs get through fatal injuries with them, but they cut that off and said we could only use the tanks on Jedi and non-clone officers a few months ago. The Banking Clans keep tightening their belts on the army, and the Chancellor insists we put citizens first, and the clones aren't citizens. We've been arguing back as much as we can, but he keeps going on about the economy and we can't... we just can't, Skywalker. We're trying to save as many of our men as we can, but..."

Something like "Allocation of resources reiterated, the Kaminoans have assured the senate that the Jedi are far from exhausting the resources ordered."

And Anakin's like. He can't blame the council for lying about Palpatine's past or future actions. He just saw Palpatine's actions. Those actions were to order people under his control to throw away lives he saw as replaceable commodities.

These are his friends' lives.

His soldiers are being thrown away by a man in a tower that he trusted.

And then that man has the gall to suggest it's the council's fault.

Palpatine is good at what he does, especially in public, he dresses it up in flowery language and everything, but Anakin's just like "Those are my FRIENDS and also this is??? How slavers talked about their property on Tatooine???? FRIENDPATINE, WHAT THE FUCK."

Anakin can be passive aggressive sometimes as well as outright aggressive. So if he brings up the guidelines and why they make him upset in general terms, and Palpatine says something about how he’s sad the council doesn’t care about the clones...

Anakin, internally, having just watched the council scramble to save as many clones as possible within the guidelines that Palps handed down: Uh-huh.

(Anakin is just the gay horror teeth gif from queer eye.)

Just. “Yeah, funny you say that, Palpatine! Because as I remember, you told the council not to waste more resources than necessary while Mace Windu was arguing to expand the treatment range!”

Palps doesn't even have time to salvage the situation or attack Anakin because Anakin just bulldoze rants for fifteen minutes and then storms out.

Anakin... maybe does a little treason and gets a copy of the orders so he can ask Padme "Hey, can you explain the politics of this?" and doesn't tell her who wrote it so she isn't biased (he tells her that this is why he's not sharing the author's/speaker's name), and just lets Padme pick apart all the 'this is a nice way of saying they don't view the clones as people' details.

Alternately, someone on the Council sees Anakin dithering and manages to get him to admit that he's not great at political language and wants to ask someone to help him understand the full implications. The person--Mace? let's go with Mace--is aware that Anakin is on good terms with Senator Amidala, if not necessarily aware of the depth of said relationship. Mace points out that he's probably going to be seeing her soon just because he usually does and, as a Senator, she can get easy access to these sessions since they're not about specific missions, just allocation of resources, etc. It's not an optimal solution, but she's got a bit more free time than anyone else Anakin knows with the clearance levels, like Order members that are actively involved in the war effort.

Anakin dithers and panics and Mace, trying to be helpful, tells him that plenty of Jedi have made friends among the Senate over the years, didn't you know Qui-Gon Jinn was a personal friend of Former Chancellor Valorum?

At any rate, Anakin goes to Padme and asks her to explain it to him, because she knows how to phrase things so he gets it.

Anakin has to have her pause and he goes outside and destroys some things halfway through.

(Anakin maybe thinks back to the times Padmé or Obi-Wan were really obviously frustrated and when he asked, they said stuff like “I can’t stand Palpatine rn, sorry Anakin I know he’s important to you and you don’t want to talk about politics, let’s just talk about something else.”)

(Obi-Wan: I don’t trust Palpatine Anakin: you just don’t like politicians in general Obi-Wan: yes that is also true)

(Obi-Wan does like Bail and Padme but he does also talk a bit about how politicians generally aren’t to be trusted.)

[mandoalorian]

Honeymoon [Din Djarin x F!Reader] - **SMUT**

Summary: You’ve been saving your credits for months in order to treat your husband to the surprise honeymoon you both deserve. He’s a little on edge though, despite the luscious, tropical environment he’s surrounded by. So, as his wife, you do everything in your means to get him to relax.

Warnings: unprotected p in v, riding, cockwarming, orgasm denial, cunningless, cum eating, spanking, anal fingering, breeding kink, slight sub!Din if you squint. 18+ only.

Word count: 2600+

Reblogs appreciated. 💙

Beyond The Sea Masterlist

-—-—-—♡—-—-—-

Marrying Din Djarin was the best decision of your life. 

Standing dead centre in the middle of your hotel suite, your husband had never looked so out of place. The yon orange sunlight seeped through the crack in the voile curtains, and a warm, summer breeze waved gently through your hair. You could tell, even through his beskar Mandalorian helmet, that your husband was completely stricken by the beauty of the great outdoors. Your view from outside the hotel suite was a novelty, for sure. The beach’s water circled around the hotel and pooled outside into a tranquil, turquoise coloured ocean. A distance from your window, but not too far, was a growing jungle of vines and trees, habited by various reptilian animals that were distinct to the planet of Scarif. You couldn’t wait to meet them all.

You’d saved up credits, and it had taken almost a year, but finally— finally, you could afford this. A sanctuary. A small vacation. Something you could call your honeymoon. It was long overdue.

Din had warned you when you married him that a honeymoon wasn’t on the cards. It just wasn’t plausible. He was a bounty hunter and he worked every damn day, risking his life just so he could bring back enough credits to put food on the table for you and Grogu. A holiday of any sorts was out of the question.

But you’d been saving up in secret, and if he’d ever found out about your planned endeavour — well, he’d never approve. Good job he’d managed to keep out of your way when you bought the tickets for the five star hotel suite. What proved to be even more of a challenge, was persuading Din to take you to the remote and tropical island planet of Scarif. 

You left the kid with Peli Motto on Tatooine, much to Din’s disdain. You’d spoken to Greef and broken a deal with him in secret; that the guild master was not allowed to provide Din with any bounties prior to the week you were due to go away. Everything rolled out perfectly, just as planned.

For the first time in a long time, your clan of three was living a stress free life, void of any anxieties related to Din and his profession. You loved him with your mind, body and soul, and accepted him for who he was. But part of you, a small part of your heart, hoped that one day, maybe he’d give up bounty hunting for good. He was getting older now. You’d occasionally pick out the greying hairs in his stubble, and the crinkles in the corners of his starry brown eyes were becoming increasingly more prominent. There was a beautiful galaxy out there, and he’d only seen the bad parts. The parts that were rampant with crime and death. You hoped that this honeymoon trip to Scarif would show him the true beauty of the world -- and everything he was missing out on.

He couldn’t bounty hunt forever. One of these days, he was going to have to settle down.

“I can’t believe you did this,” Din announced, picking up some complimentary hotel chocolates that had been left on his pillow. He pulled off his mustard coloured gloves and began to fiddle with the red foil wrapper. “All of this. I can’t believe you did all of this without me knowing.”

“I was afraid you’d be mad at me.” you mumbled, subconsciously rocking backwards and forwards on your heels. Din couldn’t even begin to imagine how much this trip had cost you, and to be honest, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the exact figure. 

“I am mad at you.” He retorted, but you could sense the air of amusement in his voice. Din Djarin was an esteemed bounty hunter, the best in the Guild. He prided himself in being the best too. He was always one step ahead of everyone, always knowing what was about to come before others even knew themselves. Apparently though, his skill was lost on you. Part of him though, was proud. A pretty big part of him, to be exact.

He was chuffed to be able to call you his wife. He didn’t believe the day would ever come. 

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” you pondered out loud, looking around the hotel suite. “Did you see those big colourful birds as we walked in? They were enormous. We should check out the gift shop and buy a disposable camera. I know Grogu would love to see the photos when we get back.”

Din tilted his helmet in acknowledgement of your comment, but opted to stay silent, his eyes fixated on you and only you. Yeah, he was sure Scarif was a beautiful planet (there was no doubt in his mind), but not even all the colourful birds or glistening waters in the whole galaxy could ever compare to the beauty of you. Your eyes snapped back towards Din when he didn’t respond, and you felt your mouth part as a knowing sigh escaped your lips.

“Tell me you don’t…” you closed your eyes, already mentally preparing yourself for his answer. “...Tell me you don’t have hunting mode initiated under that tin can helmet of yours.”

You knew that, under his black tinted visor, he was always in hunting mode. He had to ensure your safety one way or another. When he turned off hunting mode, everything was normal and in colour (despite this one glitch of pixels he had to get fixed). But when he was in hunting mode, his vision was a dull chiaroscuro. 

“We don’t know how safe this planet is,” Din declared, his voice stern as he tried to reason with you. “We just arrived and I’ve never been here before. I haven’t even done a recce.”

You extended your arm and shushed him. “You haven’t been here before because no bounty or crime syndicate ever comes to Scarif. Since the battle between the Rebellion and the Empire, it’s been under full surveillance by the New Republic. There is security on every corner.”

“That doesn’t exactly work well in my favour.” Din muttered, although deep down he knew you were right.

“Do you really think I would’ve taken you somewhere that wasn’t safe for either of us? I’ve been planning this honeymoon for months, Din. Please, trust me.”

It hurt, seeing your husband like this. After bounty hunting his whole life, he was so… on edge. He always struggled to relax. You thought a tropical vacation might’ve just done the trick but maybe he needed more.

“Okay, you’re right. I trust you.” Din sighed in admittance, and you cracked one of your sweetest smiles at his revelation. It was enough to ease Din, even just temporarily.

“It’s too late to do anything now,” you said, biting your lip as you peeked behind the curtains and watched the sunset. “We can just stay in the hotel room and order room service, if you’d like.”

Din nodded, following your direction. He didn’t know the first thing about vacationing. But if one thing intrigued him, it was the luxurious king sized bed that stood before him. It was dressed in ivory satin sheets and silk pillow cases, and it was certainly nothing like the plank of steel you’d both lay on, back in the Crest. No, this was a real bed. You’d caught him staring at it and couldn’t help but smile at the smirk that played on your lips.

“Take off your helmet.” You requested.

“I--,” Din hesitated. “Someone could walk in and see me.”

“The door is locked. We have privacy,” you assured him. Din fumbled around some more. His heart stopped when you planted both your hands on his shoulders and searched for his eyes beneath the visor. “Trust me.” you reminded him with a plea of desperation.

He nodded and slowly began to lift off his helmet. And there, he revealed himself. Your husband. Though you’d seen his face many times now, you’d still always get an out-of-body experience, watching him take it off. Like it was some kind of sin.

“I love you so much,” Din’s unmodulated voice announced, and his brown eyes bored into your beauty. You smiled, feeling a wave of heat wash over your cheeks as you leaned your head into his chest. You slowly began to undress his plates of beskar armour, dropping them to the ground as you discarded them into a pile on the floor. “Such a pretty girl,” he cooed, and you shuddered, feeling his warm breath fan over the shell of your ear. “My pretty girl. All mine.”

“All yours,” you confirmed, dropping the final plate of beskar to the floor. “You need to relax, my love.”

“That word is foreign to me.” Din told you, smoothing out your hair before dropping his large hands down to your hips.

“So let me help you.”

You guided Din over to the bed he’d been eyeing up all night and helped him out of his under clothes, stripping him down to his boxer shorts only. You straddled his hips, pushing him back down amongst the satin sheets and letting your hands wander along his broad, scarred chest. He groaned wantonly. Your tender touch combined with the unfamiliar softness of what lay beneath him was almost enough to make him enter a meltdown. You hummed softly, your voice lulling him in the most comforting manner imaginable. Your fingers dipped further down his body and traced the short tufts of brown hair that poked out the hem of his underwear. Feeling your fingers fiddle with his waistband as he lay on the king sized bed felt ethereal. It was almost too much, he had to stop himself from swatting your hand away. If Din could have it his way, he’d grab you and roll you over, so he was on top -- taking control over you. But you had done this, all of this, to try and help him relax. So, he just lay there and surrendered to you.

The sky was dimming as the minutes passed by. You made a good habit to take your time with him, missing this kind of intimacy. Truthfully, it was hard to ever catch moments like this with Grogu being around. You and Din practically always had to sacrifice loving, passionate sex for quickies in between his bounties; and it wasn’t always easy.

“You-- you look so pretty like this, on top of me.” Your husband gasped out, his already dark eyes growing shades darker with lust.

For a split second, you pulled off him and untied your tunic, letting your simple robe fall to the ground and revealing your almost naked body to him. He was obsessed with you. Absolutely smitten, and it was unlike anything he’d ever been like with anyone ever before. Straddling him once more, you began to grind over his half hard cock, moaning at the friction between his underwear and your lace panties.

You leaned down and pressed your soft lips against his, enveloping him into a sweet kiss. You drop your lips along his gruff jaw and down the column of his neck, making a conscious effort to suck at his sweet spot you’d memorised so well. Reluctantly, you pulled off him and hovered over his lap, signalling with your hands for him to pull down his underwear. He took his hardening cock in his hand and wiped the beads of precum that had developed at his head. Taking the salty seed on his index finger, he brought it up to your mouth and pushed the digit in between your lips. You moaned longingly, relishing in his taste before pulling off him with a pop.

Din pulled off your panties and began to stroke between your folds, groaning when he felt just how slick and ready you were for him. He squeezed your hips and nodded, illustrating that he was ready, and you took a deep breath, anticipating the delicious stretch his cock offered you. You sank down on top of him, your eyes snapping shut as you felt every amazing bump and ridge and vein of his manhood grind along your fluttering walls.

He seated deep inside of you, giving you a few minutes to adjust, and he began to rub tight circles into your clit. He was absolutely mesmerized by you. You chanted his name like it was a prayer, and Din wondered how he ever got so lucky.

Feeling you clench around him and sensing you were about to cum, Din removed his hand from your cunt and gave you a small spanking on the curve of your ass. Your gasp of shock from your orgasm denial turned into a wanton moan as you wiggled further down on him. You giggled, nudging your nose against his as you felt the same finger he’d used earlier on you, make its way to your puckered asshole. Anal was something you’d been working your way up to, but hadn’t tried yet.

“Do you want this?” Din asked, teasing your entrance with the tip of his finger.

“Mhm,” you nodded desperately.

“Are you sure you can take it?” he beckoned, a wicked smirk gracing his soft pink lips.

“Y-yes,” you whispered.

“I can’t hear you,” Din growled, giving you another spank. “Tell me you want it.”

“I want it,” you cried, “P-please Din, fuck, please. I want it.”

“Dirty girl.” He gritted out, slowly pushing his digit inside of you.

Maker, you were full. In every way imaginable, Din was filling you up, stretching you wide, and it felt… amazing. You began to rock your hips over his cock as he lazily thrust his finger inside your asshole, and you felt yourself panting with every little stroke and movement.

“You look so good, like this,” Din gasped. “Won’t last long.”

And, he didn’t. The second he felt you cumming on top of him, your walls gripping his girth tighter than a vice, he came undone. His load was large, as expected, as his seed spurted in ropes inside of you. Din’s hands wrapped around your stomach and he began to rub soothing circles in your tummy. You didn’t lift off him, but instead, relished the feeling of his cock softening inside of you.

“Maybe this time it’ll work,” he grumbled. “And if not, we’ll keep trying. I won’t stop til I’ve put a baby inside of you, cya’re.”

You hummed and stretched out over him, resting your sticky forehead against his. “Good job we have all honeymoon.”

Din chuckled, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear and cupping your cheek with his hand. Well, if you’d accomplished one thing, it was that Din was certainly feeling more relaxed, that’s for sure.

-—-—-—♡—-—-—-

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[dameronology]

wait on {din djarin x reader}

summary: boba fett is a good therapist, and din djarin is spectacular at being nosey. the result? a much needed conversation. perhaps there’s a silver lining. {kinda based on this song}

warnings: angst, language, swearing, s2 spoilers

this one hurts a lil bit but i promise the ending is happy. enjoy!!

-jazz

The air between you was thick, not unlike the beskar that the Mandalorian was wearing. 

It was funny, really, because you’d never minded the armour all that much before. Your ability to see straight through it and see Din Djarin for what he really was had been what made him fall in love with you, and you with him. Now, it felt like a barrier between you. Inches of thick metal and fabric, shielding him from the world around him. From you. The one person he usually held closest to his heart; the one person he’d let see his face for the first time in years. The man was hardly a conversationalist at the best of times but he’d opened up to you. Shared his world with you and intertwined it with yours. Built something with you that you'd both protect with your lives. 

Now, he was straying away. Forever attached by an invisible string, but with galaxies and galaxies between you. Even though he was mere inches from you, sat two seats over, there was a chilly air; if your relationship was a warm, welcoming house, the atmosphere he’d plunged you both into was the cold winter’s night on the other side of the glass. You wanted to go back, to drag him inside and slam and bolt the door behind you. Instead, you were forced to watch through the windows, knowing what was there but never quite truly getting close enough to let it envelope you. 

You couldn’t hold it against him. The last few weeks had been rough on you both, and it only come to a head today. Grogu had been taken by the Imps and the Crest had been blown up before your very eyes. It was one of those times that truly and wholly showed the difference between you and Din: you sought him out and he pulled away. You’d learnt a long time ago not to follow him. You wanted to. Fuck, you wanted to, but you’d learnt the hard way that it was a bad idea. 

Despite the icy silence and ache for your kidnapped toad son, you were still grateful for the fact Boba Fett had offered his ship as transport and shelter. You weren’t entirely sure what his deal was, but Din seemed to trust him, and so by extension, you did too. Things were a little cramped in the hull of the ship, but there was a spare sleeping quarters for you and the Mandalorian to squish into, assuming he’d let you. You didn’t want to ask him, because you were scared of the answer. 

Instead, you found yourself sat out on the dusty plains of...wherever the hell you were. Boba had parked the ship up overnight so that you could rest; it seemed to be some kind of desert planet. Not too different to Nevarro or Tatooine, but perhaps a little colder. The sky had long faded to black, casting a darkness over the sandy plains ahead of you. The chilly air was a welcome contrast against the stuffiness of the bedroom - it wasn’t even hot in there, just filled with some kind of inexplicable tension. And not the sexy kind; the regular, all-consuming type. You could feel it slowly etching into your frontal lobe, sinking in its claws and giving you a stress head-ache. Letting out a few deep breaths, you let the gusts of cold wind blow over your bare arms. 

‘A little cold out here, isn’t it?’

The voice was gravelly and unfamiliar, but one that you knew belonged to Boba Fett. 

‘Yeah, maybe.’ You didn’t turn around to look, instead letting your eyes stay focused on the distance. There was nothing ahead. Just darkness and sand. ‘Fresh air is nice, though.’

‘Or maybe the air inside is bad.’ He countered. Boba took a seat on the rock beside you, jokingly whacking his knee against yours. ‘What’s on your mind?’

‘Just...what happened today, I suppose.’ You replied. ‘We lost the kid, and our ship.’

‘You’re handling it better than your Mandalorian.’ He replied. 

‘I don’t think he’s my Mandalorian.’ You snorted. ‘He’s just...he doesn’t normally deal with so much at once. I think he just needs time to process it all, you know?’

‘Perhaps.’ Boba said. ‘And do you always make excuses for him?’

‘I beg your sweet pardon?’ You turned to look at him. 

‘Forgive me if I’m overstepping, but I’ve always been an observant man.’ He began. ‘I saw how you immediately went to him, to check on him, and how you fought beside him,  yet he’s barely even looked at you.’

‘Ouch.’ You muttered. ‘You might be observant you but certainly do not tread lightly.’

‘My apologies.’ He curtly nodded. 

‘It’s not always been like this.’ Your words felt forced. You were making excuses. ‘And it won’t always be.’

‘You know him better than anyone, or so I assume.’ Boba reminded you. ‘But don’t be afraid to remind him what he has, despite what he’s lost.’

He was right. Din could be distant, and he could be fucking ignorant without even trying, but you hadn’t strayed from his side once. Not for a second. It could be frustrating to deal, with but you loved him with your whole being, in a soul-consuming sorta way, and you knew he was capable of coming around. Your mother had always preached songs of love being patient and kind but as you saw it, it was frustrating, and at times the most inconvenient thing in the world. You must have had the patience of a saint to deal with him. He was just lucky he made it worth it (and that underneath all the armour, he wasn’t too bad to look at. It certainly helped his case). 

You let out a sad laugh. ‘I couldn’t. Di - Mando already struggles to express his feelings and I’d only make it worst if I said he wasn’t doing it well enough.’

‘You know your worth.’ Boba said. ‘Only you can decide if he appreciates it enough.’

‘He does.’ You quickly replied. ‘I know he does.’ 

He gave you a doubtful look, one that said I think you’re bullshitting, but I won’t disagree. He was simply sharing his observations, even if they were a little much. But the man hadn’t had any proper social interaction for a long time, so you could hardly blame him - and he had a sort of wise air to him, like he’d been round the block a couple times. He certainly seemed like the sort of person you should listen to.

‘I’ll leave you with this: the life of a Mandalorian is complicated.’ He dusted off his knees, before standing up. ‘You should make sure it’s worth it before you fully commit.’

‘I-’ you tried to speak, but you were cut off by the sound of a twig snapping under someone’s boot. Why the fuck were there twigs in the desert? More to the point, why was that your immediate thought? 

You both sharply turned around, coming face-to-face with a Mandalorian. Not a Mandalorian, but the Mandalorian. The one you’d just been talking about. The one whose heart would have been broken into a million tiny pieces if he’d even a word of what you just said. And, from the way his helmet tilted ever so slightly to the left, you figured he’d heard more than enough. Fuck. 

'Don’t let me stop you.’ His modulated voice wavered ever so slightly. ‘I’ll see you inside.’

He turned on his heel, heavy steps taking him back towards the Slave I. To anyone else, his body language hadn’t changed, but you could read him like a book. A complicated book, and one that was missing more than half its pages and was in a dozen different fucking languages, but one you’d read a thousand times. Understanding Din Djarin was hard, and you’d only just begun -  barely touched the surface in fact - but it was more than anyone else could say. 

‘Wait!’ You leapt up, almost comically falling over as you rushed after him. 

Sensing that his presence was probably not welcome, Boba returned to his seat on the rock, silently hoping that Fennec Shand was either a) asleep, or b) had enough common sense to stay the fuck out of the way of whatever was about to go down. 

‘I swear to maker if you shut that door -’ you were cut off by...the door shutting in your face. Djarin: 1. You: 0.

You let out a small groan, slamming your fist against it. 

‘Okay, maybe I deserved that.’ You quietly muttered. ‘But will you please listen to me?’

Silence. 

‘Fine.’ You splayed your fingers out against the metal. ‘Ice me out, Din Djarin. I’m more than used to it by now.’

There was a gruff hmm from the other side of the door. Had he really just taken offence to that?

‘It’s funny, really.’ You continued. ‘Because the part of that conversation you didn’t hear was me defending you. Like I always fucking do, because I know that despite everything, you’re a human being and you love me.’

There was a small thud, as though Din had placed his hand in a similar position to yours.

‘But Boba has a point.’ Your voice fell to a whisper. ‘I keep giving and I get nothing back. Instead of letting me in, you just shut me out and I know you’re upset at what he said but for the love of everything holy in this shitty world, do not prove him right.’

It was a risky ultimatum, and not one you’d seen coming. Your chest had tightened as soon as the words left your mouth, because you knew that if Din stayed silent, that was it. You’d have to let him go; to accept that you would never get back what you putting in. Before, you were able to convince yourself that you were okay with that but maybe, just maybe you weren’t. Waiting around for something that had no guarantee of happening was like beating a dead horse that had no guarantee of coming back to life. The only thing that was promised was emotional exhaustion and then eventual death. You would have liked to have found something between those two waypoints - whether Din Djarin could be the one to give it to you? You didn’t know. 

After a moment of silence, the door finally opened, and you came face to face with him. Like actually face to face with him; no helmet, no armour. Just a loose tunic and tired brown eyes, matched with lazily-shaven facial hair and knitted brows. That was Din. Your Din. 

‘Can I just...can I just talk for a moment?’ He asked. ‘I have something to say and I want to get it right.’

‘Of course.’ You nodded. 

‘I’m not hurt by what you said.’ He stated. ‘I know I don’t show you enough love and it hurts that I don’t know how, but I am trying. I promise you that much.’

You gave him a tearful smile. ‘Yeah, I know.’

‘I just wish that you could say it to me and not to him.’ He murmured. ‘I don’t want you to hold back on anything, ever. You can always come to me. Even if it’s about me.’

‘I get that.’ Your eyes fell to the floor. ‘It’s just that I know you’re trying your best and I’m scared you’ll think that your best isn’t enough.’ 

‘It’s not.’ Din’s words took you by surprise. ‘It’s not enough, but one day, I hope it will be.’

‘I don’t know what to say, because if I deny it-’

‘- you don’t have to say anything.’ He cut you off. ‘I want to give you the world. And I will, if you’ll be patient with me.’

You took every word as gospel as he said it. The Mandalorian was a lot of things, but a liar wasn’t one of them. And to his credit, every promise he’d made to you before, he’d delivered on. You didn’t doubt for a second that this one would be the same. It wasn’t even naivety or wishful thinking. 

‘I mean, I’ve come this far.’ You tried to crack a joke. You finally looked up from the floor, his brown eyes meeting yours. 

‘I love you.’ He took your hands in his, words firm. ‘That’s all I can give you right now. I’m sorry.’

‘Din.’ The words barely come out as a whisper. ‘Never apologise. Please never apologise. I just...it’s nice to hear it, you know? A little more often than every time you almost die.’

‘Are the words enough on their own?’

‘Yes.’ You squeezed his hands. ‘Because I know you mean them.’

Din wrapped his arms you, pulling you tightly against his chest. It was warm and soft, miles away from the cold armour that so often greeted you. He held you tightly and with a new kind of might you were previously yet to experience, clinging onto you as though it were the last time. It wasn’t - it was far from the last time. Rather, it was the first time. The first time that he’d spoken of a future with you, or fully promised himself to you. You knew you would get there one day. You’d just needed him to say it himself before you could believe it. 

Din Djarin was giving you tiny little pieces on himself each day, and one day, you would have all of him. 

tags: @meshlababy @bo-kryze @poestardust @aqueencomplexx @princessxkenobi @cosmic-rich @captn-andor @buttercup--bee​ @maharani-radha​ @kat-r-in​

[mandospace]

Promise (Boba Fett x Reader Smut)

Request:  Hello! I was unsure if you were still taking requests, but I was wondering if you could write a Boba x reader fic where they make a bet to see if reader would last a night as a his “bounty”. Kind of like a primal kink thing? 😅 Your writing is so amazing thank you so much for the Din and Boba content! ♥️

Requested By: @xothra

Word Count: 5,797

Warnings: SMUT! If you are under 18, DO NOT INTERACT! Primal kink, hunting (?) kink, slight bondage, fingering, spanking, PinV sex, strong language, a hint of fluff?

A/N: I am a whore for Boba. That is all. **gif cred to @humanveil!**

MASTERLIST

“Right there,” Boba groaned, jaw clenched tight. Pain radiated through his back, his muscles tight and tense from the stressful life he lived as a bounty hunter-turned-kingpin. “Fuck, your hands are like magic, princess.”

“Kriff, Boba, what did you do?” your hands moved down his back, fingers prodding the sore muscles. You shuffled down his body before sitting on the back of his thighs. Boba had come home from a long hunt, complaining about how his back was hurting. He never complained, so you knew he wasn’t feeling well when he collapsed on your shared bed within his chambers. His beskar armor and shirt was already stripped from his body, revealing the tight muscles that were colored with bruises, some fading and some new. When you offered him a back massage, he quickly nodded and turned over on his stomach. His muscles were extremely tense under your fingers as you tried to massage the tension away. 

“Dunno,” he mumbled into the pillow, eyes screwing tight at both pleasure and pain. Your fingers were cool against his back, a welcomed comfort after a long day. He barely registered your weight when you sat back on his thighs, too encompassed in your soothing touch. “One moment I was chasing after the quarry and the next my back was killing me.”

“Maybe you should take a break,” you rubbed soothing circles into the dip of his back. “Lay low for a while, let Fennec take over the hunting.”

“You saying I’m too slow, princess?” Boba quipped underneath you, turning his head to the side so you could hear him more clearly. “That I’m getting too old for this?”

“Never, Boba,” you smirked to yourself before leaning down and pressing your lips between his shoulder blades. He shivered under your touch and let out a small sigh. “All I’m saying is that maybe you don’t have to hunt anymore. Let some other bounty hunter chase after your enemies.”

“You do think I’m old.” Boba huffed, turning under you so he could see your face. You settled down over his hips and ran your hands up his stomach, stopping to play with the light sprinkling of hair on his chest. 

“Well...” your words trailed off, bottom lip catching between your teeth. Boba had a tough life- much tougher than most. Bounty hunting was never an easy profession for anyone, and it certainly wasn’t kind to him. Working for crime lords was always dangerous, especially one that owned a rancor and sarlacc. Life didn’t get any easier for Boba after he crawled out of the pit- it took him years to regain his strength and armor. Only recently have things started going his way, what with finding you and performing a successful coup. He shouldn’t have to work anymore, he deserves to relax and rule the Outer Rim with you by his side. “Why not relax and take a little break from hunting. Rest up until you’re feeling better, and then you can get back to chasing down quarries.”

“I am perfectly capable of hunting right now,” he playfully glared at you. Smiling, you ran your hands further up his body, cupping his jaw. Your body followed your hands and you leaned over him, nose brushing his.

“Darling,” you placed a soft peck to the corner of his mouth. “You couldn’t catch me if I ran out that door right now.”

Your mouth on his skin was distracting, but he still caught your words. “I could too!” Boba gripped your hips suddenly and flipped the two of you over so that he was now on top. He tried to ignore the slight pain that still radiated from his back. “You wouldn’t even make a mile outside the palace gates before I caught up to you. And that’s being generous.”

“Is that a challenge, old man?” you teased, teeth nipping down his jaw and neck. “I bet it would take you longer than a day to find me.”

“Oh really?” Boba couldn’t help the small smile that slipped onto his lips. He loved the playful banter the two of you sometimes shared. It always led to you in his bed, trapped between the mattress and him for hours on end. “What do I get if I win?”

It was Boba’s turn to tease you now and his lips started to trail down your neck. He stopped right over your jugular, sucking a dark spot on the soft skin. You tried to hold back the breathy moans that threatened to spill from your lips. “If you win, you could do whatever you want to me for a day.”

“I’m going to need a little more than that, princess,” he smirked against your skin. “What’s stopping me from taking what I want from you right now since you’re already under me?”

“Fine,” you relented. “A week.” If he won, it’s not like you were actually losing anything. A week filled with Boba doing whatever he pleased to you left you wet and needy beneath him.

“That’s more like it,” Boba growled before he pressed his lips against yours in a searing kiss. He wasted no time before he licked into your mouth, moaning as he forced you into submission. 

“But,” you broke off the kiss, chest heaving. “If I win, you need to take a break from hunting. A real break.” 

“You’ve got yourself a deal, princess,” he pulled your bottom lip between his teeth, biting gently. “I’ll have you back in my bed before the suns are down tomorrow. Then the real fun will begin.”

“Not if you can’t catch me, old man,” you winked before pulling his lips back to yours. 

Tomorrow, the hunt will begin.

___

“You can just forfeit now,” Boba hummed against your neck, pulling you tightly against his chest. It was the next morning and you were grabbing last minute items to throw in your satchel. You had everything a girl running from her bounty hunter lover could need- credits, food, change of clothes, and your blaster. “I won’t hold it against you. I’ll still uphold my end of the bargain and keep you in my bed for a week.”

You’ve never rolled your eyes harder than you did in that moment. “You know,” you turned in his hold and looked up at your lover. He was dressed in his armor except for his green helmet, ready to hunt you down and take what was his. “You’re awfully cocky for an old man. Aren’t you supposed to be done with such childish things?”

“Ha-ha,” he rolled his eyes. Boba brought a gloved hand to your face, gently cupping your cheek. The mischief in his eyes was replaced with seriousness. “Be careful, princess. Check in with me every few hours so I know you’re okay.”

“I will,” you turned your face into his palm, kissing the worn leather. “I’ll miss you.”

“Don’t worry, little one,” he glided his thumb over your cheek bone. “We’ll be back together before the suns set.”

“I think you’re underestimating my ability,” you placed a light kiss on his lips and pulled away before you could get lost in his touch. “I learned from the best, after all.” You started towards the large palace doors, satchel over your shoulder. The large doors opened with a creak. Excitement and adrenaline pumped through your veins. You’ve never been on the run before, but the thrill of Boba tracking and hunting you down was electrifying. Realistically, you knew Boba would find you fast on the desolate planet of Tatooine. The only advantage you had was that Fennec was driving you to Mos Eisley where you could hide more easily in the busy city. An enormous disadvantage you had though was that Boba knew where you were going. Even if you tried your hardest, you knew you couldn’t run away from Boba and keep him off your trail for long. Eventually, the skilled bounty hunter would find you and claim his prize; most likely before the end of the night. Joining Fennec on the speeder, you waved back at your lover before you sped away from the palace, wind whipping through your hair.

___

Mos Eisley was crowded with people. Shop owners were selling their various goods, hollering to potential customers to come view their wares. Food carts were everywhere and gamblers sat at their tables, playing sabacc and dice. Only a few fights broke out amongst people, but for the most part their shouting and yelling was drowned out by the din of the busy, sandy streets.

Fennec had dropped you off at one of the cantinas before speeding off on the bike. While she was a master of disguise and able to blend in plain sight, the news of Boba’s successful coup had spread and Fennec Shand’s name was in every vagrant’s mouth. She preferred to remain as inconspicuous as possible.

You had no idea where you should go or start. While you had teased Boba that you would be able to outwit him and that he wouldn’t be able to catch you, you realized that maybe you were in over your head. I mean, how were you supposed to outwit and win against the best bounty hunter in the galaxy? It wasn’t a title that he just gave himself, he rightfully earned it. Boba Fett was infamous- everyone knew who he was.

And you were supposed to be running from him.

Okay, yeah, you were screwed. But you couldn’t think like that right now- you had to think quickly and try to evade Boba for as long as you could. You weren’t doing this for yourself, you were doing this for Boba. He was pushing himself too hard lately, running the crime underworld while simultaneously hunting down his enemies. He deserved to have some fun. You knew he would love this- hunting you down like prey. It played perfectly into the fantasies that lived in his head. While he never voiced them to you, you never forgot the glint in his eyes when he first tied you up. It was only natural that desire fed into this one.

This was for Boba. And you were going to give him one hell of a hunt.

Your eyes scanned the streets of Mos Eisley, trying to think through and reason what would be the best course to take. Originally, you thought losing yourself in the bustling bazaar would be the best idea until you realized that’s exactly what Boba would expect you to do. You had to do better than that, you had to do what Boba would do. Maybe if you thought and moved like him, you could evade him long enough.

Deciding that standing in one spot wasn’t the best option, you started to move your way through the crowd. Your eyes searched high and low for possible hiding places. Boba would expect you to stay in town where you were familiar with your surroundings. When you saw the dewback nestled in a stable, you almost spent all of your credits on the beast. Going out into the dunes wasn’t a good idea, though. Tusken raiders have been moving a lot more than usual in the desert and it would be your luck to get caught by them. Passing by the giant green lizard, you patted its head and sighed. Another time, buddy.

You hadn’t been out to the town in some time. Things had changed in the central hub of Tatooine. While there were always going to be thieves and bandits and vagrants roaming the city, things seemed... more calm. People weren’t scurrying away from each other like they used to, afraid that someone would do them harm. They smiled more, talked with their neighbors instead of hiding their faces. You had never seen Tatooine actually, well, thriving since you arrived on the desolate planet. While you hadn’t resided here for long, you remembered how bad things were when Bib Fortuna ruled the area. Being out amongst the people of Tatooine made you realize that it was because of Boba that things were better. Yes, he was a crime kingpin, and yes, he knew how to be ruthless; but the people were so much better off with him in the Hutt palace than they’ve been in centuries. The thought made pride swell up in your chest. Your Boba was making this shithole of a planet just a little bit better.

“Do you miss me, pretty girl?” Boba’s gravely voice sounded over the commlink, startling you and the dewback you were still petting. Fumbling for the comm, your hands were shaking just from hearing his voice, you brought it up to your lips.

“Not at all,” you tried to sound nonchalant and not like he just scared the shit out of you. “Haven’t been to town in a while, it’s nice.”

“Well I miss you, princess,” his voice made your knees weak. He was far away from you, yet just the timbre of his words made you needy. “It’s only been a few hours but my cock is already throbbing with how much I need you.”

“Boba,” you scolded, cheeks flushing with embarrassment as onlookers gave you a look. They had heard him, of course. “You can’t... say those things right now.”

“Why?” he chuckled. “Did someone hear? Are you still in the bazaar?”

“Uh, no.” Shit, you were bad at lying to him.

“So you are in the bazaar,” you could visualize the smirk that you knew was on his face. “Mind picking me up some of those berries you love so much? I love the way they make your lips taste.”

You didn’t know how to respond to that, so you stayed quiet. Giving the dewback one last pat, you rejoined the busy crowd. Boba was getting closer to Mos Eisley and you didn’t have much time to find a good hiding space. You had to think fast.

“What, you’re not talking to me now?”

“I’m not not talking to you.” Switching the commlink to run through the small earpiece lodged in your ear, you noticed a small inn on the corner of the busy street. Maybe that would be a good place to lay low?

“Okay, then just listen, princess,” his voice was rough and made you whimper. You could feel how wet your underwear was becoming just from his voice alone. Good thing you thought of switching the audio of the commlink to your ear or else everyone would hear the filthy words Boba muttered. “When I catch you, and I will catch you, I’m going to tie you up and take you right then and there. I don’t care if anyone is around us, I’m going to make you scream and beg for my cock so everyone knows who you belong to.”

You had to find a hiding place and fast. Just hearing his words was making you soak through your underwear and you needed to get away from this crowd of people. “Promise?”

“Oh, I promise, sweet thing.” you were certain that he had a sly smile on his face under the helmet. “I’ll find you before the suns go down and claim my bounty. You’ll be the sweetest reward I ever get.”

You didn’t care if you lost the bet. Moving towards the small inn, you glanced down at your watch, noting the time. “You’ve got 5 hours until they set. Come and get me, Fett.”

“With pleasure.”

___

The inn was your best option in the small city so you purchased a room. Boba was just now leaving the palace, ready to start his hunt. While it wouldn’t be much of a hunt for him (you were too easy of prey), you were certain he would love his reward. The room was small, sandstone walls that held little to know decorations. There was a bed with simple colored sheets and a small bathroom attached. It would be enough for what you had planned for your hunter. 

You got to work.

When you were packing your bags this morning, you made a big show of grabbing only the necessities. Boba was trailing behind you the entire morning, his hands never left your waist. He was constantly trying to convince you to stay home with him and to give up the bet, but you didn’t fall into the temptation. You knew he would absolutely love hunting you, even if he never said it. Besides, you wanted to give him a real treat for when he finally caught you. Before she picked you up, Fennec had gone back to your chambers and collected the black bag with the items you had packed away while Boba was still asleep. That black bag now sat on the bed.

The satchel held what you needed for tonight. Candles, ropes, a brand new lingerie set you knew Boba would rip to shreds once he saw you in it. The black lace was beautiful and soft. Just imagining the look on Boba’s face when he sees you in it made desire pool low in your stomach.

You still had a few hours until you were sure he would find you. Fennec was nice enough to lay down a false trail to make things more exciting for Boba. What a nice lady when she actually wanted to be nice. You moved to the fresher and began to peel the clothes from your body. Even though you weren’t physically running from Boba, the day spent wandering through the streets of Mos Eisley left a thin layer of grime coating your skin. You wanted to be nice and clean for when Boba finally caught you. Turning the fresher on, excitement settled in your bones at the prospect of tonight.

___

Boba Fett had been on the hunt all day. The twin suns of Tatooine were moving low in the horizon. Sunset would be within the next hour.

Good thing Boba had already found you.

Once he realized Fennec had laid down a false trail for you, it was easy for Boba to find your real trail through Mos Eisley. Hishelmet allowed him to see your footprints in the sandy streets. He followed your every move, placing himself in your steps and lived out your day hours later. He noticed that you had stopped at the stables for some time, and when Boba asked the stablemaster about you, he learned that you spent a good part of your day petting the dewback the man owned. His heart thumped at the thought of you petting the great beast. Boba knew you used to have pets and that you missed caring for your animals dearly. He would have to get you one soon.

The suns were just starting to fall behind the sandy dunes of Tatooine when Boba arrived at the small inn. After tossing a few credits to the owner, he learned which room you were staying in. Boba could feel the excitement build up inside of him, just like it did when he was close to his other quarries. Stopping in front of your door, his cock throbbed painfully in his trousers at what would happen when he caught you. Boba didn’t wait a moment longer before turning the handle.

The room was dark, save for a few flickering candles that were scattered throughout the room. His visor easily switched into night vision to allow him to see, but he wanted to experience this with his own eyes. Lifting the helmet, Boba’s eyes rested on your figure and his cock jumped at what he saw.

You were lounging on the bed, scantily clad in black lace that barely left anything to the imagination. His eyes roamed up your body and admired the lace that hugged your curves perfectly. When he got to your chest, he noted that a small carton of berries rested on top of your cleavage and that you were lazily bringing the ripe fruit to your lips. Boba wanted to reach out and feel those lips on his own and taste the tartness of the fruit.

“Bout’ time, Fett,” you fished around in the carton before you found a particularly ripe berry and popped it into your mouth. “Was thinking you’d never find me.”

“I’ll always find you, princess,” his voice rumbled through his chest. “Looks like I found you before the suns set, too.” Boba nodded towards the small window, pointing out the setting suns. “I win.”

Picking up another fruit, you brought it to your mouth and bit it slowly, the juice spilling out and running down your chin and chest. You gave Boba a seductive grin. “Come and get your prize, my king.”

Boba’s eyes visibly darkened with lust and a growl sounded from his chest. His strides were long and quickly closed the distance between the two of you. Scrambling on top of the bed, he moved the carton of berries over on the side table. Boba dropped his head to your chest and ran his tongue over your breasts, licking the sweet juice off of you. A breathless moan left your mouth and your chest arched into his touch. His hands were rough as they grabbed at your wrists, bringing them up and above your head. Boba reached for the cuffs attached to his belt and snapped them into place around your wrists. He had you now.

“You thought you could run away from me, huh?” his voice was deep and gravely, sending waves of desire south. Boba grabbed the rope you had set aside on the table and tied your already cuffed wrists to the headboard. “Thought that you could outsmart me?”

His leather-clad hand trailed up your chest and settled at the base of your neck. When you didn’t answer, his fingers wrapped around your throat and gave it a slight squeeze- not enough pressure to cut off your air, just enough to slightly restrict your blood flow. “Answer me, girl.”

“No!” you gasped. Boba would never hurt you, you knew this, and this whole scenario was just pretend- all for Boba. That didn’t mean you couldn’t enjoy it too, though. You easily slid into your role. “I’m sorry, I won’t do it again.”

Boba hummed at your apology and released his grip on your throat. Air flooded into your lungs. Before he returned to touching you, Boba brought his hand to your lips. “Bite,” was all he said, and he nudged the soft leather between your teeth. You pulled off his gloves with your teeth before letting them fall to the bed. He returned his hands to your body, his warm skin sending shivers down your spine. His fingers were calloused, weathered from years of fighting. Hands moving to your breasts, Boba took them in his hands and gave them a squeeze. 

“Fuck, you look so good, princess,” Boba moaned at the soft feeling of your breasts in lace. Pulling down the lace cups, he released the soft flesh. He brought his head down and licked at one of your pert nipples, hand massaging the other. His mouth was warm over the sensitive skin and it felt delicious. He rolled his tongue over the bud before giving it a slight nip. A sharp gasp escaped your mouth and Boba chuckled. “Easy there, little one.”

You couldn’t help but whimper when Boba’s mouth switched to your other breast. His hand traveled down past your navel and cupped your warm pussy. “Look at this bounty,” he growled into your skin. His forefinger slid your black panties to the side and into your wet folds. “So wet, and all for me.”

“Yes,” you whined when his finger slipped past your tight entrance. He slowly pumped his thick finger in and out of your pussy, his lips trailing over your breasts while leaving marks across your chest. The rough pad of his finger brushed against the small bundle of nerves inside and your back arched at the sensation. “All yours! Fuck, Boba, please, I need you inside of me.”

Heading your pleading, Boba pulled his finger from inside of your cunt. You missed the feeling of being full by his fingers- he had barely touched you and you already started to feel the frustration tear up in your eyes. He didn’t pull his finger fully away- thank the Maker- instead, he began to circle your clit slowly.

“You need me, princess?” Boba nuzzled his face against your neck, nipping at the skin over pulse point. “Hmm? Need my cock inside that pretty little pussy?”

“Yes,” you moaned. You couldn’t take these teasing touches anymore. Pulling at your restraints to reach for him, you learned that there was no way you were getting out of those without help. “Please.”

“I don’t think you deserve it.” he pulled his hand away from your aching pussy, completely. Now the tears really started to well up. You tried to show him how much you needed him through the look you gave him. “Good girls don’t run away.”

“Boba, I’m sorry, I-“ you were cut off by your own yelp of pain when he brought his hand down on your ass. The pain turned to pleasure when he started to rub soothing circles into the reddened skin.

“Good girls listen to what they’re told,” Boba grabbed at your hips and flipped you over onto your stomach. The rope attached to your cuffs and the headboard tightened with the torque of you flipping. His fingers gripped the thin fabric of your panties and pulled- torn fabric falling to the bed. Boba’s hand came down on your ass again before rubbing the flesh. “Are you going to listen, princess?”

“Yes, I’ll listen- I’ll be good!” you cried into the pillow your face was buried in. You could feel his hands massaging your ass cheeks, playing with the pillowy flesh. Arching your back, you pushed your ass back into his hands, displaying your sopping pussy for him.

“Good,” Boba praised while taking his hands away from you. You almost whined out again when he removed his hands from you, but when you heard the zipper of his pants being pulled down, you relaxed and arched your back more. Boba took his hardened cock in his hand and brought it to your soaking pussy, rubbing the hot head through your folds. He kept running it through your slick, gathering as much of your arousal as he could. The tip of his cock brushed against your clit and you let out a breathy moan.

“Boba, please,” you moaned into the pillow. He was teasing you- he knew this, and he made sure that you sure as hell knew it. He kept brushing it over your clit, holding it there for a second- the pressure was delicious- before dragging it back down to your entrance. It was tantalizing- agonizing.

“Don’t worry, princess,” Boba chuckled at your begging. He notched the head of his cock at your entrance and pushed in. “I’ll put on a good show.”

The feeling of Boba splitting you open was something you’d never forget. No matter how many times the two of you had been together, you never got used to his size. It was both painful and pleasurable during that first thrust of his hips. His cock stretched your velvety walls almost to their breaking point. Pain dissolved into pleasure as he fully sheathed his cock inside of your dripping pussy. You couldn’t help the cry that fell from your lips- you were just so full.

Boba’s grip on your hips tightened when he started to thrust into you, setting a bruising pace. Moans of pleasure slipped past your lips and landed on the pillow. You tugged on the restraints, trying to ground yourself from the intoxicating pleasure. Boba’s hips snapped against your ass and the lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin reverberated off the sandstone walls.

“Fuck, princess,” Boba’s arms wrapped tight around your waist, tugging your hips back in time with his thrusts. You were so tight around him- a vice in the best way possible- squeezing him just right. Boba dropped his mouth to your back, kissing and biting marks against your skin between his grunts of pleasure. His hands roamed up your stomach to your breasts, cupping them with a squeeze. The black lace was still in the way, keeping your soft skin out of reach. He made quick work of the thin lace and the ruined material joined the tattered pieces of your underwear. You were completely bare before him now and Boba growled at the sight- you were breathtaking. “So-so good, so beautiful.”

Boba’s name was constantly falling from your lips. Each brush of his hard cock against your velvety walls brought you more and more pleasure. It pooled low in your stomach and spread through your veins. “Wa-want to t-touch you.”

Boba didn’t reply, instead he reached above you for your restraints. He made quick work of your bindings and soon enough you were free. Boba wrapped his arms around your waist and tugged you back against him. The cool beskar of his cuirass dug into your back and imprinted its shape into your skin. Boba dropped his head to your shoulder and nuzzled his face into your neck. Hands roamed up your stomach and cupped your breasts. His large hands pushed and pulled at the soft flesh, pinched your peaked nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. At this new angle, Boba’s cock brushed against that bundle of nerves inside of you.

“You’re mine,” Boba growled into your neck, nipping and kissing purple marks into your skin. His teeth sank into the junction of your neck and jaw, tongue swiping over the fresh mark. All you could do was nod and moan in agreement- he kept pounding into you at just the right angle that was making you see stars. His hands kept roaming over your body, kneading whatever skin he could get a hold of. Your arms were reaching up and behind you, holding his head against you so his lips never left your skin.

"Fuck, you feel so good, princess,” Boba moaned against your neck, lips trailing up to your ear. His hot breath fanned over the shell of your ear. “Do you feel that, baby?” Boba grabbed one of your hands that was holding his head to your skin and dragged it down your body before resting over your stomach. His large hand rested over yours and pressed it into your skin. “Do you feel my cock deep in your stomach, little one?”

You did. The feeling of his cock pushing deep inside of you made your stomach bulge out slightly. The feeling of Boba using you to reach his high drove you to your own.

“Boba, I-” you were cut off by your own moan. His cock kept brushing against the bundle of nerves inside of you. It was driving you crazy.

“I know, princess,” Boba nipped at your ear, growling out your name. “Come for me, little one.” The arm around your waist pulled you tighter against him while the other trailed down your stomach to where he was pounding into you. The rough pads of his fingers dropped down to your clit and began to rub quick circles into it. “Come all over my cock.”

His words in addition to the motions of his fingers and thrust of his cock inside of you made the metaphorical dam inside of you break under the pleasure of it all. Your orgasm spilled over and flooded your veins, waves of pleasure wracking your body. The feeling of your velvety walls clenching around him drove Boba closer to his own high.

“Fuck, princess,” Boba moaned lowly in your ear whilst pulling out of you quickly. You missed the feeling of being full of his cock but before you could whine out a complaint, Boba was flipping you over onto your back. He grabbed your ankles and tugged you to the edge of the bed, wrapping your legs around his waist. Boba dropped his forehead to yours and his hot breath fanned over your face. He pressed a searing kiss to your lips and drank in your breathless moans. The feeling of him pounding into you was almost too much- you were so sensitive from your previous orgasm. “You take me so well.”

“Come inside of me, Boba,” you bit down on his bottom lip and he growled. “Fill me up.”

“Fu-fuck, princess!” his hips stuttered against you as his balls pulled up tightly. He ground his cock inside of you and he came hard, his cum painting your walls. The warmth of his seed and the throbbing of his cock sent you over the edge again. Your nails trailed down his muscular back, leaving angry red marks over his tan skin. Boba settled inside of you and moaned your name against your soft lips. He trailed kisses over your face, lightly kissing your chin, cheeks, nose, eyelids, before placing a final one to your forehead. Hands came up to cradle your face and he placed another kiss to your hairline. 

“You did so well for me, little one.” Boba nuzzled his face into your hair and tucked your head under his chin. He rolled onto his back and pulled you on top of him. His beskar armor was cold against your skin but you didn’t care. Boba’s arms were around you and his cock was still buried inside of you. He placed another kiss on your hairline. “Sorry if I was a little rough with you.”

You placed a kiss to his green cuirass. “I didn’t mind. I like it when you get a little rough.” Boba chuckled underneath you and he brought his hand to your hair, combing through the tangles. “Though, I’m not sure my outfit liked it.”

“Sorry,” he laughed. “I’ll buy you a new one. Any color you want.”

“Hmm...” you hummed in contemplation, trailing your finger over his armor. “Maybe a dark green one? With red accents? I’d like to match your armor- maybe even wear your helmet while you fuck me.”

His cock twitched inside of you at your words. “Don’t make any promises you can’t keep, little one.”

“Oh, that’s a promise I fully intend to keep,” you leaned up and pulled him into another kiss. You pulled his bottom lip between your teeth, biting gently. “Just like I intend to uphold our bet.”

“I can’t wait to take you on every surface of the palace,” he pulled you into another kiss, licking into your mouth. “I bet I can make you come so much that you won’t be able to walk straight for weeks.”

“Is that a challenge, Fett?” your hips shifted slightly, his cock hardening inside of you. 

“It’s a promise.”

[bookishofalder]

Night Changes [Two]

Night Changes Series Masterlist 

Summary: The reader fucks up. The question is, why? Poe remembers the first time he had to say goodbye to her.   

Warnings: Angst, angst, language, sadness, violence, injury description, bacta-shot briefly described. WC-5,385

A/N: This one is super angsty with some great flashbacks! Get ready because after this chapter things really pick up, maybe some of that smut will make an appearance 👀

You slammed your bedroom door shut, anger and embarrassment coursing through you. You don’t think you had ever been as angry in your 14 years, wanting to scream and throw yourself on your bed to cry. Since your mother wasn’t home, you opted for the former, letting a shrill shriek escape, filling the room with your anger.

Even as you did this, you heard the front door open and close, fast footsteps on the floor telling you he was coming straight to your room. Damn, in your blind rage you forgot to lock the front door.

Not that locking the door had ever stopped Poe from getting into the Horn household.

“Go AWAY, Poe!”

His footsteps stopped just outside your door, the brainless, annoying, terrible Poe Dameron not stupid enough to try and open your door when you were this angry. Still, he called to you through the thin wood, voice strained with regret and worry.

“Please, I’m sorry-“

“You are not, you jerk!” You yelled back childishly, as a fresh wave of tears slipped out. At least he couldn’t see them. You caught your breath before continuing, “I saw you grinning over at Charlie when you punched Tahla! You enjoyed it!”

“He was touching you!” Poe responded, “Kissing you and touching your face! How else was I supposed to-“

“You were supposed to let me make out with the hot guy, Poe!” You growled, ripping open your door to glare daggers at your former best friend's face. Not expecting you to do this, he almost fell into the room as he had been leaning against the door. Once he straightened himself up, Poe frowned down at you, bewildered.

“I didn’t realize-I mean, I thought he was being fresh. Charlie thought so too.” As if your brother had anything to do with Poe’s overprotective reaction.

You gave him your worst look, marching further into your room and tossing your jacket on your bed angrily, hands gesturing wildly. “I’ve had a crush on Tahla for like, two months, Poe! He finally asks me out and gives me a pretty innocent kiss and then you come out of nowhere and punch him! In the face!”

You crossed your arms over your chest, staring at your floor now as you worked to keep any more angry tears from coming. Poe was silent for a beat, then stepped a little further into your room cautiously, as though you were an enraged mudhorn.

“I’m sorry, I really didn’t know any of that, I jumped to conclusions,” You gave a humourless laugh, because when did Poe ‘better to ask for forgiveness’ Dameron ever not jump to conclusions? “Honestly, I didn’t hit him too hard, he’ll be fine.”

You couldn’t help it, you stomped your foot. As though you were a small child. You were so incredibly frustrated, you actually stomped your foot down. With another angry cry, you stormed across the room and pushed Poe, who barely moved because even just two years older he was so much stronger, broader, solid. It only made you angrier, emphasizing every other word with another hit to his chest. “You kriffing idiot, Poe! He’s never going to speak to me again now! What gives you the right, huh?”

You finally looked up at him only to see a confusing mix of emotions cross his features, the most prominent of which appeared to be regret. “I’m really, really sorry. I’m just protective of you, I know I shouldn’t have done that.” He hung his head in shame, a hand moving to rub the back of his neck tiredly. You knew him far too well not to realize how sincere he was being.  

You softened, only a little. “Poe, look,” You wiped under your eyes as you considered your words, “I like that you’re protective, don’t get me wrong. I know you love me. But you can’t just do stuff like that! I didn’t punch that girl from Tatooine when I found you guys making out last year, did I?”

Poe gave a small laugh, nodding his agreement. “Yeah, I don’t know what came over me...I promise it won’t ever happen again. Unless,” He paused and looked at you, his head tilting slightly, signature grin reappearing, “Unless you ask me to.”

“Thank you,” You stepped closer, into his space and wrapped your arms around his waist as you gazed up at your...well, you suppose he could remain your best friend. He stiffened briefly before his arms wrapped around you in return. “Poe, I love you too, you know, you idiot.”

“I know, sweetheart.”

-

You had fucked up.

It wasn’t a planet-shattering mistake that cost lives or the mission but considering your fuck up occurred directly in front of Poe, it sort of felt like it was that bad. And really, what the hell had you been thinking? Weeks of working together without issue and today was the day the cold professionalism shattered thanks to your behaviour. Kriff. And fuck.

You couldn’t explain what came over you, one minute everything was going as much to plan as it could when infiltrating a small but well-manned First Order outpost for data. Suddenly, the next moment you were disregarding protocol to shoot a Storm Trooper outside of your zone, only to miss the one hiding within your zone and getting your ass handed to you. The pain in your gut increased somewhat as you remembered the hit you’d taken not so long ago.

Temmin suddenly flipped onto a private channel, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Black-2, uh, I’m leaving Black Leader to you on this one, if that’s okay.”

You sighed, “Yes, Black-3, understood. Best to avoid the area if you know what’s good for you.”

“Yeah, I’m not getting caught in the crossfire, Major.” He agreed, before wishing you luck and cutting out.

It was almost funny when you landed and saw Temmin hoofing it quickly away from the landing zone, Karê also nowhere to be found.

Great squad, leaving you to handle the Commander’s rage on your own, you thought bitterly to yourself despite knowing full well it was anger that was deservedly going to be aimed at you.

You groaned inwardly as you watched Poe land nearby. You knew he was livid because, after your egregious failure in judgement, he ceased speaking to you entirely, which was very uncharacteristic for Poe. You had been the one giving him the indifferent, haughty attitude, which simply drove him up the wall. Instead of getting angry, he just didn’t shut up, as if he hoped eventually he’d say something to pull you out and make him feel better. He wanted you to have a big reaction, so it was the last thing you were going to give him.  

He was going to yell now, though. And you’d let him because he was your commander, you had disobeyed orders, and that was all that mattered. You were so ashamed of yourself you hadn’t bothered to update him on your condition. Which was becoming increasingly uncomfortable because the hit you’d taken to your stomach had caught you so entirely off guard you weren’t braced in any way for the impact. And the Storm Trooper had packed a mean fucking punch.

You sighed heavily before moving to exit your X-Wing, grimacing at the pain and taking it slow. You’d go to the med bay once he was finished reprimanding you, and then you were going to bed. Where you’d stay for a few days and wallow, just because you could. Today had not been your day.

You waited patiently for Poe to climb down from his ship, watching his stiff movements, the way he all but threw his helmet on the ground. Standing as tall as you could manage without straining your aching belly too much, you jerked your chin up and met his eyes levelly, your expression respectfully neutral. You braced, ready to take your dressing-down.

At least it was quiet in the hangar.

“What, and I can’t stress this enough, the actual fuck was that, Major?” He barked, storming up to you and stopping only a few steps away, his hands on his hips. Briefly, you recalled the number of times in your life you’d seen him this angry, and how he’d always stand the same. That anger had never been directed at you before, however. “You know what, don’t answer that. Instead, tell me why you think you’re above basic protocol?”

“I don’t, Commander.” You replied evenly, holding his gaze as he glared at you with the power of seven suns. You fought down the part of you that wanted to snap at him because you needed to separate the Poe you once thought was a friend from the one in front of you who was your superior.

“Because protocol includes abandoning clearing your own zone to take over in mine. Did you think I was suddenly incapable of handling myself? Did something happen which led you to believe I was incapacitated?”

His voice hadn’t risen, now it was just steady, loud but he wasn’t exactly yelling. The dripping sarcasm was more than enough to get his message across. You took a steadying breath, then paused to try and stop yourself from wincing in pain.  

“I did not think you were incapable, sir. I-I...” You faltered here because you truly had no idea why you reacted the way you did.

It was simple enough; breach the base, take down as many as possible but be quick and get BB8 to the control room to steal important data that would be harder to get from a more well-manned and larger base. Protect the droid while he worked. And up to entering the control room, all had gone well enough. Captain Temmin Wexley and Kare Kun, Black-3 and Black-4 respectfully, were with you and Poe, stationing themselves at the doors to the control room while you and your Commander breached.

You took out several officers and Storm Troopers within your zone, and you did think you had cleared it. You really did, but you were in the process of following protocol and checking when movement across the room-in Poe’s zone-caught your eye.

And you did abandon your zone. Because when you saw the downed but obviously not dead trooper raise his blaster directly at Poe from just a few feet away, something inside of you simply responded, as natural as the instinct to blink when it was too bright, you had turned and aimed your blaster at that trooper and shot him directly in the middle of his helmet.

And then the Trooper who had been hiding in your zone had pulled you roughly back way by your hair, your scalp prickling from the force, and used your distraction to his advantage when he pummeled your stomach. He had hit the air straight out of your lungs and you knew you’d have collapsed to the ground if he wasn’t holding your hair.

He never did get the chance to consider raising his blaster to finish you off, though. Poe had charged him, one moment you were crying out in pain and the next he practically pounced on the trooper, who had released you to try and defend himself until falling limp to the floor with a blaster shot to the head, Poe having wasted no time in killing him.

You had stumbled back, hitting a wall and panting heavily, watching as Poe rose from atop the trooper, turned to look at you with fire in his eyes, and then just as quickly looked away. You weren’t stupid enough to say anything, so you simply worked to catch your breath, your eyes on the droid successfully stealing the data.

At your failure to explain yourself, Poe’s brows shot up so high they threatened to disappear into his hairline, and he stepped closer to look down at you. “I’m sorry, Major, didn’t quite catch that. You want to go ahead and speak up?”

You settled on a partial truth, having nothing more to offer. “I reacted to a threat to my Commander. Poorly, yes, and for that, I do apologize.” Your last word came out strained, the pain in your stomach becoming more than distracting now when you took in too much air.

Poe noticed, his brows dropping into a frown as he gazed at you, eyes moving from your face, which was sweaty, to your awkward posture. “Are you injured?” He demanded.

You nodded, “Slightly, sir. I’ll go to the med bay after.” Ah, fuck though, it did hurt. Maybe you should just stop talking altogether until you could get a bacta shot.

Crossing his arms, Poe leaned away from you and sighed as his expression softened a little, “Just go. And don’t pull that bullshit again. Fuck, you should have been excited at the prospect of seeing me get hurt, (y/n).”

You weren’t going to give that statement any acknowledgment because he knew it wasn’t true, he just said it to be mean. Pursing your lips, you gave him one curt nod before stepping around him and making your way out of the hangar. You didn’t look back, but you sensed his eyes on you as you hunched over, clutching your stomach and hobbling as quickly as you could.

Thankfully, the med bay wasn’t too far from the hangar, though it certainly felt a lot further now that you actually wanted to be there that exact moment. You garnered a few looks as you walked along, your expression was positively livid from the pain and the shame of the day. When you came through the doors of the med bay, you saw a nurse stationed in the entryway at a neat desk, where she typed away on a datapad.

When she glanced up at you, she did a double-take before jumping to her feet, her eyes landing briefly on your flight suit patch. “Major! My goodness, are you alright?”

You bit back an angry retort and settled on a pained grunt, pointing at your stomach. “Took a serious punch here, armoured trooper.” The nurse nodded at your explanation, stepping around the desk to help lead you around the corner where a room was set up with several beds. She indicated the nearest one, which you walked up to, hesitating to sit.

“I’ll just get a healer.” The nurse said kindly, hurrying through a set of doors to your left.

You shut your eyes, tears springing up the moment you were alone. You tried to hold them in, turning carefully and slowly, slowly lowering yourself to sit gingerly on the bed.

“Fucking fuck fuck!” You hissed, the movement and shifting of weight causing the pain to spike, your back tightening in protest.

A clearing of a throat alerted you that another person was in the room now, just in front of you based on how close they sounded. But you kept your eyes shut, afraid that if you opened them tears would fall, and you hated when anyone saw you crying.

“Major, I’m Healer Derrin. I’m going to quickly assess you before giving you a bacta shot. Is that alright?” His voice sounded kind enough, a little amusement laced in his words telling you he heard your less than ladylike cursing moments before. Not that you ever cared about being proper or delicate.

You nodded, “Sure thing, doc.” Eyes still pressed tightly closed, you jerked a little when his hands slid over your wrists, gently easing your hands from clutching your stomach. You dropped them to the bed and fisted the sheets as the healer began to prod your abdomen.

You couldn’t help it, you groaned in pain as he did this, fighting the urge to push him away.

“I know, you’re doing great. Listen, I need you to lay down so my med-droid can quickly scan you for internal bleeding, can you do that for me, honey?”

Normally anyone calling you ‘honey’ would earn a swift kick to the nuts, but given the nature of your predicament and the fact he was clearly trying to comfort you, you let it slide. Without a word, you let yourself go limp and tried to lay. He caught your shoulders and helped you, saying words of comfort as you swore repeatedly. The droid got to work the moment you settled, and it didn’t take long from there.

“I need to just unzip your flight suit to get access to your buttocks, Major.”

“Yep.” You replied tightly, not giving two shits how he went about giving you the shot. His hands moved with care and respect, though you wore the standard-issue white shirt underneath your suit. You knew a few female pilots who liked only wearing their bra beneath the suit and never understood their thinking. You liked to be prepared for anything, and sacrificing comfort for sexiness never did appeal to you.

Once he finished, his hands moved to your hip, rotating it slightly and moving the fabric of both your suit and your underwear aside, your left butt cheek now exposed. You felt something cold and wet on your skin, then the sting of a needle and then pure bliss as the bacta shot was injected.

Your body immediately sagged into the mattress, a relieved sigh escaping your lips as the pain vanished. You opened your eyes as the droid removed the needle and the Healer began zipping you back up. And stars, the healer! He was like something straight out of a Corellian soap opera, the definition of tall, handsome and unfairly fit. And he was smiling at you, flashing bright white teeth as his blue eyes searched your face with professional care.

“Better?” He asked, laughing when you merely nodded happily, a noise of content humming out. So much better, you could fall asleep right that moment.

He helped you sit back up, though you didn’t need the help anymore. You felt amazing like you’d never known pain in your life. Bacta was the shit. You’d only had it twice before in your life, once when you were a teenager and the other time just after you’d joined the Resistance.

“Thank you, Healer, really.” You breathed, smiling up at him. You held out your hand, eager to correct your initial, though understandable, rudeness. “Major (y/n) Horn.”

Healer Derrin shook your proffered hand, returning your smile with his own. He had fair hair, a smattering of freckles that only made him that much more endearing, and you suddenly felt a little shy. Although he had just seen half your ass, so what was the point in feeling shy.

“Great to meet you, Major.”

“You too, wish it were under better circumstances, but I suppose this is the nature of our work.” You replied with a shrug, flushing slightly when he gave another warm laugh. You weren’t sure if you were flirting exactly, because you hadn’t done that in years, but it felt nice all the same. You’d mostly kept to yourself since coming to D’Qar, really only socializing with your team and a mechanic who had long hours. It had been a little lonely.

You stood, straightening your flight suit as the Healer entered a few notes into a datapad. “Now, if you have any sort of discomfort or pain in the next twenty-four hours please come straight here, but otherwise you’re good to return to duty.” He gestured toward the way out and you walked with him, pleasantly surprised he was walking you out. “If I can be bold, Major...?”

He stopped walking at the doors to the med bay, which opened as you turned to look up at the healer, curious. “How so?” But you could guess. He was rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, his eyes warm, an almost shy nature about him suddenly.

“I...I’ve seen you around, a couple of times only but you always, that is. Uh,” He paused, laughing to himself a little as he struggled, and you tried to give him a kind smile as you patiently waited for him to get it together. “I think you’re really pretty, and I’d love to take you for a drink sometime.”

Despite sensing where the conversation had been moving, it still didn’t prepare you. You’d had a few one-night rendezvous over the years, casual intimacy for the fun of it. But this was new, not so heat-of-the-moment but rather just a pleasant man complimenting you and asking you out. “Oh,” You grinned, “That’s sweet of you. I’d like that, Healer-“

“Rush, you can call me Rush.” He was smiling too, relieved.

“Rush,” You repeated, “Well Rush, you know where to find me when you want to get that drink.” And giving him one last smile and a little wink, you spun away and stepped into the hall, feeling a little giddy.

Until you saw the back of a familiar Commander disappear around the corner ahead, shoulders stiffer than when he’d climbed out of his X-Wing half an hour before. Huh.

++

Poe had experienced too many strong emotions for one day.

Though anger seemed to be the star of the day, which was new for Poe as generally his anger burned away quickly if ever it did come up-he just wasn’t one to sit in a single emotion for very long. Today though, he’d gone from shocked outrage to seething fury to whatever the fuck anger seeing you get asked out by some cocky Healer had brought on.

When he’d watched you leave the hangar, he saw the weird way you walked and knew you’d been hiding your injury the whole time he’d yelled, something that both impressed him and fed his anger. You were supposed to report injuries to him straight away, not let them fester until you were nearly ready to pass out.

Stars, you were fucking stubborn.

He’d followed you to the med bay, concern overriding everything else, and waited by the nurses' station while you were treated. He could hear you making pained noises, trying to bite back sobs, to hide how much you were hurting. You’d always been a bit of a masochist, preferring to suffer in silence, alone, whenever possible. He’d sat outside your door growing up plenty of times, listening as you sobbed, knowing you were aware he was there but unable to leave you alone. And you’d never really asked him to leave, so long as he stayed quiet and didn’t mention it when you eventually let him in the room.

Still, he’d always hug you and quickly claim it was for him, not you, and you’d just give a watery laugh and roll your eyes.  

When he heard you sigh happily getting your shot, he went out into the hallway and debated waiting for you. He still had words for you, still needed a proper explanation for your mistake, because you didn’t make mistakes. Not like that, during a mission, and certainly not simply to protect him. He thought perhaps you had wanted to clear his zone just to prove a point, to show off because you’d spent the last few weeks essentially ignoring him, giving him a shoulder so cold he wondered how you didn’t turn into fucking ice.

But when he turned in time to see the Stormtrooper you’d missed pull you back, he realized you hadn’t finished clearing your zone, you had not been trying to best him. You had actually, astonishingly, fucked up.

The surprise was far outweighed by the force that rose within him when he watched you take the hit, your little body just folding from the muscle behind the punch, your cry of anguish filling the air. Protectiveness, the likes of which he never felt toward another person, surged and aided him in tackling the trooper away from you at the same time he aimed his blaster and took the shot, killing him.

And when he stood up and saw you watching him, wide-eyed and clearly flustered, he became overwhelmed. Because you suddenly looked exactly like the (y/n) Horn he’d grown up with, all the walls and pretenses and cold shoulders stripped away just for a few seconds, revealing the you he knew so well underneath. It ripped at his heart, grief and longing swirling around as he thought of how much he missed you, missed Charlie, missed his old life.

So he let the anger take over because that was easier than trying to play it all off and scold you at that moment before promising to chew you out after the mission. No, he allowed you to see his fury and when he approached you back on base and saw you waiting for him with your head held high, he knew the message had been received, all the same, the old you locked back away and ready to cooly take your verbal punishment like any other good pilot.

Fuck, he hated this. Hated working with you and having to see every day the person you had become to him, what his actions and words had reduced you to. He’d seen you outside of missions, around the base and in the caf. You were content to be alone, occasionally sitting with Temmin or a friendly mechanic named Ana who was assigned to your ship. He never saw you out at the only cantina nearby, never even saw you laugh. You were like a shell of who you’d once been until Rush Derrin seemed to pull out an unfamiliar side of you when he’d asked you out.

And though he hadn’t yet figured out how to try and heal his relationship with you, Poe had been thinking about it constantly. What to do, how to say he was sorry. How to convince you without causing you to pull away even further. So the fact that a random guy had just managed to make you laugh, smile, agree to a date, well that was more than enough to fuel his anger.

The thing was, after Charlie, it was tough, hard as shit to deal with what his life was without you or your brother. After some time, he learned how to lock it all back, avoid it as much as possible to protect himself. Because he hadn’t had any luck in figuring out where you’d gone and he was losing hope he’d be able to find you and beg for forgiveness. But then, working with you these last weeks had proven that those years apart had been easy, so fucking easy, compared to the pain and misery of being so close to you again but feeling like a different person. Feeling like you weren’t the (y/n) he remembered and wondering if she was lost forever, that he’d never be able to find his way back to her. Which meant that Poe would never breathe freely again, didn’t it?

He hadn’t breathed properly since Charlie’s funeral.

Poe wanted to punch something, but he hurried away before you could see him and instead went straight to his room, where he would spend the next hour standing under scalding hot water. It was an attempt to help him clear his mind, though once he relaxed enough it only ended up wandering right back to you, to memories he’d locked away for years, his walls crumbling useless heaps now.

-

“You know, I’m really going to miss you, Poe. Is it bad that I don’t want you to leave?”

Poe looked down at you where you lay curled into his side, the two of you lounging together on your bed, a night like a million others only this one was different, final.

It was the last night before he and Charlie shipped off to basic training, to become real pilots with the Resistance far, far away. He was beyond excited as he’d been dreaming of joining for as long as he could remember, but torn because you still had two years before you’d be joining them, and even then you’d be doing basic and kept busy with that until you could be assigned. He could only hope that he and Charlie were assigned to the base by the time you came along, but it all seemed too far away, too much time apart.

“No, I get it,” He replied, tightening his arm around your shoulders, “I’m going to miss you more than anything on this entire planet, sweetheart. I don’t...I’m not even sure how to exist without you, you know?” Truthfully, his entire life orbited around you. He wasn’t sure what it would do to him to leave.

You hummed sadly in agreement, “At least you’ll have Charlie. I have to figure out how to live without either of you,” Your voice broke, and you paused to try and prevent yourself from crying. Poe waited for you to continue, but let his tears fall freely because fuck, this hurt. “Thought I’d be ready for this, but these last few months together have just flown by and now you’re both leaving and I’m going to be alone.”

And there, there were the tears you so often refused to give in to, springing free and pulling sobs from deep within your chest. When you did cry, it only ever seemed to be for Poe. He was the only person you let take care of you, the only one allowed to see the vulnerability.

He sat up, pulling you with him and tugging you into his lap, his arms crushing you against him as you both cried. He always adored how well you fit in his arms. How perfect it felt to press his face into your neck, hold your body against his. He was going to miss this, miss you, so fucking much.

You were right; the last few months together did fly by, and he still hadn’t told you...but he couldn’t, wouldn’t, not now, not with so much time apart literally on the horizon. He’d debated the same thing for years, questioning his decisions these last few weeks because they were going to be the last together for quite some time. But you were his best friend, he didn’t want to risk anything right now by admitting...well, there was no point in thinking about it anymore.

He and Charlie were leaving, and you were going to have to live here without them for the first time in your life. They would be busy and together, you would be on your own. He wasn’t going to add another layer of baggage to your shoulders before leaving.

Of course, they would write, possibly visit once or twice but there were so many variables to that possibility there was no point in getting his hopes up that it would happen. Two years, in the grand scheme of the universe they were nothing, minimal, no time at all. But even just a night away from you had become unbearable to Poe. As much as he was ready and excited to go, he knew he was leaving half his heart behind and he was content with sitting in that and being miserable about it here with you safely tucked into his arms.

“You will never be alone, sweetheart, not really.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your hair, one hand absentmindedly rubbing your back in soothing circles. “Doesn’t matter how many galaxies separate us, I will always be with you, and you with me. I promise.”

You clung to him tighter then, your face pressed into his neck as a fresh wave of sobs wracked your body, and Poe joined you because saying goodbye, even for just a little while, was the fucking worst.

Poe and you stayed together all night, eventually falling asleep for a few hours before dawn brightened your room and you each awoke. Saying your goodbye’s and I love you’s until Charlie joined you, sandwiching you between him and Poe and giving you both the saddest grin.

And in those final moments where life was just the three of you, Charlie promised you’d all be together again. That you would fly together on the same Squadron before you could blink, fight until you won the war and spend the rest of your years laughing and flying and living until you were all old and grey and cranky.

And you’d each felt better because when Charlie made a promise to either of you, he never let you down.

Poe continued to stand under the running water, his anger now faded, replaced with an indescribable sorrow. His choked sobs filled the otherwise quiet space, long after the water turned cold and night settled in outside.

Taglist:

@mermaidxatxheart @foxilayde @eleinemk @paintballkid711 @mylifeisactuallyamess @20th-centu-fairy-girl @deitysnips @cannedsoupsucks @ubri812

[nevertheless-moving]

Suicidal Misunderstanding VII

Star Wars Time Travel AU #27

Part I - - - Part II - - - Part III - - - Part IV - - - Part V - - - Part VI

CONTENT WARNING: Please be advised this chapter may contain triggering material. More detail available in tags. 

It wasn’t until Anakin was staring at the hot sauce bottles and solitary mysterious green takeout container that he remembered they were at war, and therefore no longer in the habit of restocking the apartment’s cold stasis.

“Obi-Wan, there’s nothing to eat!” 

"I know!” came the call back. “I’m trying to meditate!”

Anakin closed the stasis door and walked back out to the common room. Obi-Wan sat crosslegged on the window sill.

“Do or do not, there is no try,” the knight quipped.

Obi-Wan opened his eyes to look fondly at the man standing before him. Maybe tomorrow, when he woke alone in a dusty desert hovel, he would regret letting himself play pretend for so long. Maybe this whole day would fade from his memory like a dream.

But right now, he felt... peaceful. He wouldn’t claim to be satisfied by the explanations he imagined for Anakin, but it would have been far more disturbing if he somehow came up with an actually sympathetic justification for genocide. He got to say and hear a number of goodbyes. He even got to cry over Anakin with the comfort of his presence. 

Now he had to let go, to be there for Luke. (And he could always get more spice...)

“I guess if you need to meditate, I can go pick us up food from the Temple Tapcaf.” Anakin offered. 

“Thank you, Anakin. Today...helped. More than I can explain.” Obi-Wan said softly.

“I- I don’t really deserve that. Considering it was all my fault.” Anakin bowed his head, helpless for words, but uncomfortable with being praised.

“Not every terrible thing that has happened is your fault. You made a series of terrible choices, yes. But there were, there are, other dark forces at work and not a single Jedi in the order was able to stop them. At least for a short time today I was able to set that aside, so for what it’s worth, thank you.”

“Kriff.” Anakin said shocked. “Of course there’s more. Ok. That’s all right, we-” he was cut off by a growl from Obi-Wan’s stomach. 

A snort of laughter escaped before Anakin smacked a hand over his mouth. “Alright, I’m going to the Tapcaf, you just...meditate until I get back.”

Obi-Wan swallowed and nodded, “I love you so much.” 

“Force Obi-Wan, you’re going to make me start crying again.” He pulled him into a bear hug. “Don’t do anything stupid while I’m not gone, ok? Just...meditate. And drink some water.”

"Hmm, I don’t know. Some of my best choices recently have been stupid,” Obi-Wan laughed. The words were light, but Anakin felt a prickle of unease, a hint of danger. There was no clear cause, and Obi-Wan seemed relaxed but...

Anakin gripped his Master’s shoulders, staring him dead in the eye. “Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

Obi-Wan sighed, “I promise.” He pulled Anakin down to press a kiss to his forehead. “Goodbye, Anakin.”

"I’ll be back in 20 minutes.” He paused, then mumbled, “i love you too” before speeding out the door.

Obi-Wan settled back into meditation, reaching inwards. Everything but his body and the light within faded. He magnified his hunger, his thirst, visualizing the pack of dried jerky in his hut, the precious jars of water in the basement. He could almost feel the heat that never quite abandoned Tatooine, even during the short nights. He opened his eyes

and saw the temple apartment.

He shut them again quickly. He was sure he could snap himself out of this. He sank deeper inward, careful to leave his shields perfectly intact. With the galaxy as dim as it was, a real show of force had the potential to grab attention across star systems. Force purging toxins, fortunately, was more a matter of internal concentration than outward power. It was one of the first skills Obi-Wan had truly mastered as a Jedi, thanks to numerous kidnappings at the start of his apprenticeship and hard drinking towards the end. 

It was uncomfortable to be that keenly aware of one’s kidneys, but Obi-Wan managed. It was less intense than a healing trance, anyway. His heart rate increased as various metabolic processes sped up- and almost immediately slowed down. Huh. The drug must of almost run its natural course, and now he 

still in the temple.

Kark. Shit. 

‘Breathe’ he thought. Stress was only going to increase his chances of a stroke. Alright, so meditation wasn’t working. Maybe he could try for longer, but part of him was nervous that if ‘Anakin’ returned he’d lose the willpower, and so far the passage of time had been extremely linear. He was too invested in the fantasy at this point for anything easy.

Remember your training. Your eyes can deceive you, do not trust them. 

Padawans were taught three main methodologies to move beyond mindtricks, hallucinations, visions, and the like. Looking In, Reaching Out, and Breaking Out. 

Looking in wasn’t working. That left the other two options. In the past, when his senses were lying to him he could always trust in the force, but now...it was just too much risk. Reaching out like that, with his whole self, meant the chance of finding someone.

That left breaking out. Obi-Wan jumped up, staring intensely at the details in the molding, the stains on the carpet, at everything. At no point today had he spotted objects fading to grey in the corner his vision, or ripple as memories from different time frames overlapped, but surely there must be some weak point.

Nothing. 

Shit, he really had stayed too long. Alright then, time for more uncivilized measures.

He walked to the kitchen and pulled their butcher’s vibroblade from its block, holding it to his neck, then hesitated.

This had to be done, but it didn’t make it any less unsettling. It was his own fault for lingering in the delusion so long; all the more palatable paths to escape had closed off, and after all he had been through he refused to die from a drug overdose. Gods, it might take years for someone to find the body.

He steeled himself, bringing the blade back up decisively only to drop it with a clatter. Pressing a hand to his throat, he was unnerved but not entirely surprised to find a stinging line of pain. His hand came away wet with blood. He instinctively pressed both hands to the cut, pulse rapid and heavy and slippery beneath his palms.

It’s just a hallucination. It’s just an extremely vivid hallucination.

A thought occurred to Obi-Wan then, and he felt something in the pit of his stomach drop in horror.

What if...what if the blade was real. What if he was actually moving around his home right now, hazily sleepwalking in a pantomime of the peaceful stroll and tender embraces he was imagining. It would explain the immediate relief from the water this morning...hadn’t he found his way to food and water even dazed from sleep-debt and blood-loss during the war?

He had a vibroblade in the desert too...

His pulse pounded harder beneath his hands. The cut wasn’t even that deep, but for the first time Obi-Wan felt the true existential horror of his current trap well up. If he didn’t know where the walls were...how could he escape.

He took a deep breath, acknowledging and letting go of his panic.

He had the force. He would just have to be delicate in his application. He picked up the bloodied tool from the floor but decided to simply to clip it to his belt for now. A force-null object would be harder to distinguish at first touch.

Obi-Wan walked to his temple bedroom and opened the barest crack in his shields, just enough to reach out, get a sense of existing currents in the force. He stirred at one until a small vortex of light formed. To anyone looking, it would appear a naturally occurring, low-powered whirlpool, common enough on Tattoine. Any gentle moves he made in the minutes before it fell apart would hopefully be obscured by its wake.

He hesitantly laid a hand on the lightsaber on his bedside table, lowering his shields a little further. His heart sunk when he realized that his memory had even recreated the perception of force-imbued temple walls in the periphery. The Kyber in his saber reverberated with a familiar song. He jerked his hand away. That felt too much like his real lightsaber. He couldn’t risk it. 

Before Obi-Wan truly began to panic again, he realized something missing. Anakin’s- Darth Vader’s saber. Since picking it up on Mustafar, the crystal in it had screamed at him, halfway to corruption. When he touched the blade he could almost feel... feel what horrors it had been bent to commit.

Most of the time he left it buried under a rock pile in his basement, too afraid to work on healing it.

He couldn’t hear it now- but he could feel the memory of what it used to be.

It sat innocently on his Anakin’s bedside table. There was a tinge of darkness to it of course- this saber had only ever known war. But when he rested a hand on the blade it was clear this belonged to the memory he had walked with today, not the tyranny of reality.

Grasping it firmly, he marched back to the windowsill and settled, intent on his choice. Sunsets here couldn’t compare to tattooine- they were just too different. The binary play transformed the infinite horizon. It was something on Tatooine he unabashedly marveled at.

Courasant, on the other hand, transformed the sun into a reflection of itself. Untold millions of transparisteel buildings refracted the star painfully at some points while casting shadows on the rest. The filter of light through constant smog resulted in strange shades of neon green and blood red. It was beautiful, but uncomfortable to look at too long.

He closed his eyes and pressed the saber to his chest.

---

Anakin was impatiently waiting in the hot service line when the urge to return to his apartment insistently welled up again. He pushed it back of course- Obi-Wan needed food and Anakin couldn’t keep putting his own selfish impulses in front of his Master’s wellbeing.

He held out for a few seconds, but the itch was getting stronger, sharper. He looked down at the tray- it already had most of Obi-Wan’s cold favorites, but he really wanted to get him his favorite soup if the line would just move a little faster. He jolted when, for the first time that day, Obi-Wan’s shielding thinned the slightest amount. Not enough to get anything clear, but the fact that there was movement at all...

He left the line; they could always come back together if Obi-Wan wanted. Hells, maybe they’d do a late night visit to Dex’s for some real comfort food. Anakin still couldn’t get a sense of what Obi-Wan was up to through their muffled bond. He felt a buzz in his ears, not unlike the moment before an enemy blow.

He picked up speed, tea sloshing in its thermoflask. An elder looked at him annoyed as darted around him.

He started speed walking in earnest as the feeling got more intense. A sandwich fell to the wayside.

Speed walking quickly switched to jogging, then running; there was a shout of complaint as he ditched the whole tray carelessly behind.

He took the last few hallways at a full-out force-assisted sprint, the Force itself screaming at him to move. A small part of his mind thought we’re safe inside the temple Obi-Wan promised not to do anything stupid i’m going to get such shit for freaking out over nothing. 

He sensed nothing from Obi-Wan over the bond; not a hint of fear or anger or surprise. He blurred around the last corner, feeling like he might throw up with his increasing, unexplained panic.

Not caringabout anything butgettingto Obi-Wan beforeitstoolate he smashed down the door at the same moment Obi-Wan, sitting peacefully by the window, turned on the lightsaber pointing directly at his heart.

Time seemed to slow. Splinters of the door frame hung in the air as Anakin desperately pulled the lightsaber away from Obi-Wan in the half-second between activation and ignition.

He wasn’t quite fast enough.

Blue plasma pierced Obi-Wan’s chest as time caught up. Pieces of the wall shattered like shrapnel as he turned, shocked to see Anakin. The saber flew away in a straight arrow. 

Anakin threw himself to Obi Wan’s side, wildly trying to draw heat away from the searing hole before it could vaporize the surrounding flesh. He couldn’t tell what the saber had pierced, or how far it had gone in considering its last second movement.

One hand trained on a hundred battle fields robotically reached for his comm-unit to call for emergency medical assistance. His mind however, had largely been left behind a few minutes ago, when he was trying to pick what Obi-Wan would want to eat for dinner.

What came out his mouth was more incoherent shrieking than anything else, but he had at least called the correct line for temple aid.

He threw down the comm, focus intent on controlling the smoldering burn. The air around them seemed to boil and Obi-Wan started struggling to get away. Anakin bodily held him down, finally finding words,

“What the FUCK, OBI-WAN! YOU LITERALLY JUST PROMISED NOT TO DO ANYTHING STUPID! YOU PROMISED!”

“that’s why- hkk I  have  to” Obi-Wan rasped.

“Karking Fuck.YOU- STOP MOVING!”

Anakin felt a twinge of danger come from the side but was too focused to do anything but shift his body as shield. A sharp pain pierced his gut but he ignored it. 

The air crackled with heat and power as the wound beneath him cooled. A faint trickle of dark blood oozed out, probably burns breaking from recent movement, considering the instant cauterization. He couldn’t see any light coming through, which meant he had moved the saber at least a quarter klick before it activated, Anakin thought semi hysterically.

Finally, someone showed up to investigate the disturbance. In truth, probably less than a minute had passed since Anakin entered the room, but he really didn’t care.

“HELP ME!” Anakin shouted.

“What happened?” Mace Windu asked grimly, falling to the ground next to them. Not waiting for an answer, he set his lit saber aside and placed his hand to Obi-Wan’s forehead, stilling the violent thrashing.

Anakin opened his mouth but he just didn’t have the words. He didn’t know. 

“General Skywalker, report.” Mace Windu commanded sharply. 

“I left him alone to get dinner for us. I ran back and when I broke open the door he was holding the lightsaber to his chest. I tried...to pull it away. It pierced him, and I’ve been trying to manage the initial burn risk. I called for medi but I don’t know their eta.”

“They’re behind me. How did you get stabbed?” the Master demanded.

“How did I what?” Anakin looked down to see a vibroblade sticking out from his left side. Right, the pain from before. Obi-Wan suddenly mustered up the energy to wake up despite his state and Windu’s compulsion. He looked around wildly before yanking the knife from Anakin’s side.

Anakin gasped, but managed to still his brother’s hand using the force before he could finish bringing it up to his neck, which Anakin just noticed was bloody.

“STOP TRYING TO DIE!” Anakin screeched.

“...I’m...not....I’m....trying.....to...” 

But before Obi-Wan could finish the sentence, the healers finally arrived, pushing Windu aside to grab hold of Anakin and Obi-Wan. He could feel a buzz of energy go through him, stopping at the growing damp patch at his side. He tried to push the man away but the heat in the room was starting to make him dizzy

“I’m fine! Focus on Obi-Wan.”

Mace placed a hand on his shoulder, and in the gentlest voice he had ever heard from the man, said, “You’ve been stabbed Anakin. Let the healers help both of you- you’ve done well looking out for him.”

Obi-Wan, still occasional thrashing was being loaded onto a hoverstrech for transport. A second stretcher waited next to it. 

“Master Windu! He’s fighting us,” Master Che called sharply. “Can you tell us what happened?”

“Master Kenobi tried to kill himself,” Windu replied flatly. “His wounds are self inflicted and he’s violently fighting assistance” 

There was a beat as that information was processed. Knight Bant, who must have arrived at some point, said in slightly less flat voice, “He displayed erratic behavior earlier today, and I ruled out drug interactions.”

“Thank you, Knight Bant.” Master Che plunged a syringe of some kind into Obi-Wans thigh. He finally stopped attempting to fight, falling down onto the board. “Red team, with me. Orange, you have Skywalker,” She instructed sharply. 

Anakin numbly watched most of the healers leave with Obi-Wan through a hole in the wall. He slowly started to stand and somehow ended up guided into a seat on the hoverboard. Looking down, he was surprised to see his tunic cut away in favor of a large bacta patch. 

“Hey,” he protested. “Who stabbed me?”

“We can discuss that after you have surgery,” A Human healer replied. Master Covamos, he thought.

“This is my fault” Anakin said, suddenly urgent. “I shouldn’t have left him. He told me goodbye, he was saying goodbye all day, I should have...”

“You saved his life,” Windu interrupted. “You got to him just in time, don’t waste your energy on should-haves. Now sleep.”

Anakin wanted to argue more, but instead found himself laying down, vision blurring. His face felt damp, had he been stabbed more than once? Windu said a few more words he couldn’t quite make out. There was a brief stinging sensation, then everything faded away. 

----

Part VIII

[nibeul]

i’d love to hear your thoughts on qui gon?

Alright, this is the second part of answering that I mentioned earlier so I’m just gonna.. go into a breakdown of Qui Gon’s character and how I view him.

I haven’t fully watched the Phantom Menace since I was a kid (10-ish years ago), so I wouldn’t say take my word as gospel. I have, however, recently touched up on some other material to refresh my memory and I’ve also rewatched some of the scenes, so I think I have a firm enough understanding of his character to discuss it. Anyways, let me actually get to my breakdown.

Qui Gon is a weak character. Not in the sense that he’s physically weak, but in the sense that he lacks depth and we only see him onscreen for one movie before he kicks the bucket. Maybe it’s thanks to the fact that they only had one movie to make an interesting character which is why he fell flat (for me at least), but I’ve seen single movies do much better in the character development area, so it’s a bit of an iffy excuse. Regardless, looking at the Phantom Menace from start to finish, I think the first thing that comes to my attention is the fact that Qui Gon doesn’t change.

Why is that a bad thing? Well, ok, nobody changes overnight, we know this. And some people don’t change at all, aren’t open to it, but we know refusing to keep an open mind is detrimental. The thing with Qui Gon is that he doesn’t change because he refuses to see outside of himself, and this isn’t put into a negative light either. To be honest, I am unsure if Lucas was trying to paint Qui Gon as an objectively “good person” or “bad person” (Liam Neeson himself is deplorable, but that’s not my point at the moment). Of course, it isn’t just black and white, but I feel there is a certain way that “morally grey” characters should be done (it is broad, because you will still have nuance in that gray area) and Qui Gon does not really.. fit. He seems like someone who is meant to be seen as a likable character but he just isn’t.

Qui Gon clashing with the Council in itself isn’t bad. My character, Ko, harbors a strong dislike for the Council and I think it is an interesting point to explore, the difference between various Jedi and their relationship with the Council. That being said, when it leads to direct butting heads without progress and/or a willingness to see the other side, it becomes less of a “difference in opinion” and more of a “overgrown man child refuses to look past his own beliefs”. And don’t get me wrong, I have my own problems with how the Council functions, but the way Qui Gon handles it is pisspoor.

Going onto my next point, Qui Gon is very manipulative. I mean, Obi Wan had to get it from somewhere (and I would not entirely say that Obi Wan is a manipulative person, but he is not above using manipulation), but if we look at how Qui Gon interacts with Shmi (along with Padmé and the rest of the handmaidens), he takes advantage of his charisma in order to establish himself in her family setting. He knows that he isn’t going to free her—which actually leads into the whole problem of the Jedi ignoring the slave trade in general, but once again, not something I am going to delve into here—which is why he needs to show himself as someone who can be a “father figure” to Anakin in order to effectively distance him from her. Anakin doesn’t get the choice of being a Jedi; it’s either that or he remains enslaved.

He views people as tools. If we breakdown his relationship with the Force, it can basically be summed up as “he believes it will guide everything that happens” (which actually reminds me of very religious people who attribute everything to their Maker) to a point where he isn’t really.. putting in the effort to get there. For example, he does not worry himself with figuring out a way to get off Tatooine because he thinks that the Force will sort that out for him. With Anakin, he believes that the Force has led Anakin to him so that Qui Gon can train the kid. His freeing of Anakin does not come from a place of good will, but more so the fact that he thinks the Force is telling him to.

This also bleeds into him betting on podraces and loaded die, which also ties into the fact that he knew he wasn’t going to free Shmi. Once again, he is not freeing Anakin because he believes that them being enslaved is wrong (in fact, earlier he states that he is not going to free them), but because he believes the Force is telling him that he needs to train Anakin. He tells Anakin that he is the chosen one—I mean, imagine the weight of that status on a child? I honestly believe that if anyone but Qui Gon had found Anakin, like Plo Koon for example, things would have gone differently. Anakin did not need that weight on his shoulders at such a young age—and views him as that. He makes it clear when he is speaking to the Council.

Which becomes another thing where he literally brushes off the fact that he already has a Padawan. He is very willing to toss Obi Wan aside in favor of training Anakin, and he states so with indifference. This ties back to an earlier part in the movie where he says something along the lines of “stop focusing on the future, focus on the present” because, thanks to his inability to think about the future for just a moment, he has condemned his Padawan and put himself in a predicament that is the result of him getting caught up in the moment. His blind trust in the force does not account for the actions and opinions of others, nor does it account for the fact that he still needs to treat things with tact/put the effort in himself.

Then, kind of looping back a little bit to my statement about how he views Anakin, he does not bring up Anakin’s former life to the council (if I remember correctly Anyways). It is just “this boy is the chosen one. He needs to be trained”. This also ties into my earlier points about how he refuses to see issues outside of his own, and how he is very “it has to be my way”. He has tunnel vision; he does not see outside of that. There is a reason that Xanatos fell, and it is not just because of Xanatos’s own actions. Yet, even after having a Padawan that has fallen, Qui Gon does not change his ways. Yoda guides him to Obi Wan as an attempt to heal Qui Gon, and I can only imagine the emotional stress that would put on a literal child.

Running off this point, the most insight we see of Qui Gon (?) is through Obi Wan/how Obi Wan sees him. Because Obi Wan grieves for Qui Gon, we are sympathetic for him, yet Qui Gon abuses Obi Wan’s attachment to him in order to ensure that Anakin is trained. Obi Wan should not have been taking on a Padawan at that age, certainly not when he had just been knighted, yet he does because of Qui Gon. It’s deeply problematic, and while I do thoroughly enjoy watching Anakin and Obi Wan interact, Anakin needed a parental figure, not a brother.

So that is my brief? Analysis of Qui Gon’s character and how I specifically view him. I went more into why I personally dislike him since that is what I had talked about before, but also because if I am being honest, his negative traits outweigh this redeeming qualities. Anyways, I am going to create a tag for my general Star Wars thoughts since I have made a couple of posts and it is probably time I organize a little bit.

[jasontoddiefor]

Anakin and Obi-Wan switch lightsaber forms, but make it a character study. Written for @isolde-and-monsters

Perseverance

In the aftermath of Naboo, watching his new Padawan sleep while his own braid was wrapped around his hand, Obi-Wan decided he could not endure another loss of this magnitude. Whenever he closed his eyes, he saw the Sith in front of his eyes, his attacks so much faster than Obi-Wan’s, his strikes more powerful.

Obi-Wan had never wanted power, not in the way he found himself starved for it now. He had butted heads with Qui-Gon often enough, but never when it came to his lightsaber form. For all that Qui-Gon’s teaching methods could be all over the place, in this, they were not. He made Obi-Wan run more drills than any other Padawan and never failed to correct even the slightest mistake. A few of his Master’s friends made jokes about Qui-Gon’s own padawanhood that left him rolling his eyes and pointedly ask Obi-Wan for his opinion on his own education.

Obi-Wan had only ever smiled and asked for another lesson.

His Master had been an excellent fighter, one of the best duelists their Order had and yet, perhaps due to making up for Obi-Wan’s lack of skill, he had lost.

Ataru had felt like a pattern out of tune ever since. Where once it was the winds guiding Obi-Wan to the skies, it now felt like wild currents dragging him down. When Obi-Wan tried to find the right rhythm, he found himself repeating steps that lead nowhere but towards uncertainty, fear, and anger. He needed to try something different, needed to switch, before his doubts threatened to consume him whole.

Anakin mumbled something in his sleep and the blanket slipped from his shoulders. Despite yawning multiple times, he had refused to go to bed, wanting to stay up with Obi-Wan. A smile sneaked itself onto Obi-Wan’s face when he wrapped Anakin in a blanket, only for the boy to snuggle up to him, searching for another source of heat. Anakin was struggling at the Temple, not just because of all the years he’d missed out on, but because of he was fighting against the horrors he had already endured.

It was a Master’s duty to protect their Padawan, carry the weight of the galaxy on their back so that a student could learn to thrive in their own time.

Anakin shouldn’t be forced to helplessly watch Obi-Wan die.

He picked up Djem So the following day when Anakin was in class. He needed a weapon that wasn’t restrained to one area, something that would teach him to stand his ground, defend, and attack at the same time. Nobody commented on the fact that it was particularly well-suited for lightsaber combat.

(They didn’t need to. Obi-Wan knew what he was doing.)

Resilience

Anakin was an angry child. He could feel his rage boiling beneath his skin like a sun, scorching, burning all that it touched when he lost control and lashed out. Even when he didn’t mean to, it just all rose to the surface and Anakin exploded, the weight of the universe behind him, ready to drown out everyone and everything within range.

It exhausted him.

In the aftermath of his tantrums, be they because of selfish and uncaring politicians or because the other Padawans kept pushing him and Anakin thought he couldn’t keep up, it all ended similarly.

Anakin, on his own, choking on tears he didn’t dare cry because he still tasted Tatooine on his tongue and heard his mother’s voice in his ears, reminding him to be careful with his heart. This didn’t feel like keeping his soul safe and his mind moonlit instead of sun-starved.

The Force called him by a name and fate Anakin felt much too small for and he didn’t know how to handle it, how to endure, how to stop breaking.

He curled his left hand to a fist, his nails dug crescent marks into his skin as he waited for Obi-Wan to scold him. His Master was the best the Order had and Anakin wanted to live up to all his expectations, but so very often, he felt as if he were failing him instead.

“I don’t think this is working out,” Obi-Wan commented and turned off his lightsaber, clipping it to his belt again.

Anakin bit his lips, stared at his feet. Obi-Wan was finally allowing Anakin to specialize in a lightsaber form after years of training, and he couldn’t keep up, follow Obi-Wan as naturally as he should. He was good in combat, one of the best in his age group, and yet Anakin struggled when he shouldn’t, too quickly overcome by the need to lash out.

“Anakin, are you sure you want to specialize in Djem So?”

He looked up and instead of seeing Obi-Wan’s disappointment, he found interest instead.

“Yes!” Anakin replied quickly. “Of course! I can do it, I swear, I just need more training.”

“I don’t doubt your capabilities, Anakin. You’d be a formidable fighter. I just wonder whether another form wouldn’t suit you more.”

Confused, Anakin searched for the signs of a joke in Obi-Wan’s expression, but he was dead serious. “Like what?” Anakin asked.

“Soresu,” Obi-Wan answered. “You’re quick, but your speed often leads to you getting overeager. You have a lot of energy and could easily outlast any opponent if you contained yourself a little more and I think it would lift the stress of your shoulders.”

“I’m not stressed,” Anakin protested immediately, pretending he wasn’t lying to himself.

Obi-Wan cracked a slight smile at that and playfully tugged at Anakin’s braid before he could duck away. “I apologize for making such an assumption, Padawan. I know you demand more of yourself than anyone else, but you need not be sword and shield at the same time. Grow for yourself first and the galaxy after.”

Obi-Wan’s words made sense, somehow. Anakin had always thought that Soresu was kind of boring, but maybe he did need just a bit of a break, time to calm down and learn how to breathe again without sand forcing its way down his throat. And if Anakin’s defense got a bit better, he might be able to finally stop all of Obi-Wan’s attacks. He could always switch to another Form later.

“Okay,” he agreed. “What’s the first stance?”

(Anakin never did end up switching his fighting style, relying on the steady beat of drums to keep his head clear and his thoughts structured when the world seemed so keen to break him apart. He did not jump into battle against the traitorous Jedi, the Sith, remaining at his Master’s side.

And when they drop a small spitfire Padawan in front of him in the middle of a war that had already claimed too many lives, he hoped he could teach her this lesson as well.)

[firstofficerwiggles]

Sending a Message

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Reader

Rating: T, there are sexy situations, i.e. touching, but no actual sex, one use of the f-word, but mostly fluff and some longing

Summary: Basically, you and Din are in a cantina and you need his help to get men to stop hitting on you. You have an established friendship with him but neither of you have expressed your true *romantic* feelings. Enjoy!

Word Count: 2900ish

Author’s note: I love fanfiction and have been reading it for a looong time now, but I finally decided to take the plunge and write one myself. What can I say? Din is very inspiring. It’s very self-indugent and I hope you like it. 

I wrote a Part 2 to this story (18+ version) (T version)

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The child is a sticky mess having eaten his way through a bag of ripe berries as you were trying to keep him occupied so the Mandalorian could suss out information for others of his kind who might know where to find the Jedi.

It’s been roughly three months since you joined the Mandalorian’s crew to help out with the child. You were enamored with the sweet little green baby the moment you saw him with Din in that marketplace back on Tatooine. Stressed and exhausted, Din let you pick up the child and entertain him while he loaded supplies on to a cart. You accompanied the two of them around on the rest of their errands that day, offering helpful advice and somehow gaining the Mandalorian’s trust fast enough to have him offer you a job as the child’s caretaker by the end of the day. You surprised yourself with how quickly you agreed to the arrangement, but in the end, you knew there was nothing left for you on Tatooine but memories and an empty house.

So now here you were, fairly content with your role as nanny to the child, although not quite prepared for how risky travelling with the Mandalorian could be. There were days when you could not believe the situations you found yourself in, yet through it all, you knew you had made the right decision. This was largely in part to the Mandalorian himself. There was just something so undeniably compelling about him. He was an execptional hunter and frankly, a deadly assassin, but he always seemed willing to put his violent skills towards a good cause, no matter how hopeless it may have seemed. But yet, no matter how lethal he could be, he was also so heartbreakingly soft and gentle with his small son, demonstrating a fierce protectiveness that had spread to you too. At first, the Mandalorian wasn’t much of a conversationalist, but little by little, you had begun to get to know him and had fallen into an easy friendship of sorts with him. All well and good, but, the more you knew about him, the more you started to feel an attraction to him. It started slow, and you played it off as just a weakness for his handsome armor and, let’s be honest, his strong, fit physique underneath all that beskar. But then, he started to share small jokes with you, ask you more about yourself, and reveal details about his own life, including his name, Din Djarin. After that, you really couldn’t deny your feelings, but you kept them to yourself not wanting to upset the contented balance you had achieved nor wanting to put him in the uncomfortable position of having to turn you down. Still though, the longing was there, even when you tried to distract yourself.

“Wow, look at you! I think we have a new record, kiddo.” Din has made his way back to you and is gently teasing his son. He scoops him up into his arms and the child coos with glee but also puts his berry-smeared hands all over his father’s shiny armor.

“Oh no! I thought I’d have a chance to clean him up before you returned.” You apologize a little embarassed.

“It’s not a big deal; we’ll take care of it.” Din has accepted the messiness of fatherhood in stride, “Let’s head over to that cantina. We’ll get cleaned up and you two can get some food while we’re there.”

As Din heads to the back of the cantina in search of a fresher to deal with the berry mess, you spy two seats at the bar and carefully make your way through the crowd. Several people, mostly men it seems, smile widely at you as you pass. It’s packed in here, but the warmth of so many bodies together is welcome after the blustery wind that had picked up outside. You shed your heavy cloak and drape it over the back of one of the barstools both so you can save the seat for Din and, you think eagerly, give him the chance to see the pretty dress you decided to wear today. It’s one of your favorites but he hasn’t seen it yet, however, with the cooler weather on this planet you were beginning to think you wouldn’t get a chance to show it off. Not that you should be thinking like that, you roll your eyes at yourself and your silly crush on the stoic Mandalorian. You’re just getting yourself settled at the bar when the bartender places a brightly colored drink in front of you. Confused you say, “I haven’t ordered yet.” as he just points behind you to a burly looking man with a scruffy beard. The man is grinning confidently at you,

“My treat, pretty lady! We rarely get strangers like you in here!”

“Thank you,” you demure, “but I really can’t accept.”

“Nonsense! You go ahead and enjoy and then we can get to know each other.” He winks at you.

“Maybe she’d prefer one of these,” another man has sauntered over, this one a lanky man with a bottle of something in his hand, “I think she might prefer something with more of a bite to it.” His entendre not lost on you, you hold up your hand and shake your head to fend him off when yet a third man tries to get your attention,

“Don’t let these bozos tell you what you want; I’ll get you whatever your heart desires!”

“I can buy my own drink, thanks,” you cut him off, turn back to the bartender, and manage to order your own drink and some food for you and the child, but this last guy is persistent and sleezy, coming over and perching himself on the barstool you were saving for Din. “Hey, I’m saving that for my…” what should you call him? “friend,” you finish lamely.

“Well, no problem, I’m looking forward to meeting her too.” he waggles his eyebrows at you suggestively. Giving him a sarcastic glare, you retort, “I don’t think he’d be interested.”

Things are starting to get out of hand, but thankfully, Din has spotted you amongst your crowd of admirers and with a small, rather amused tilt of his helmet and a bit of a shove, he’s now by your side with the child cooing happily from his satchel. “How about a booth?” he suggests, and you swear you can hear the amusement in his voice.

“Great idea” you reply, hopping down from your stool and snatching your cloak back from the other one.

“Oh c’mon baby, that tin can can’t make you happy like I can” the guy who rudely stole Din’s seat calls after you. Your face erupts in a blush and you hope to hell that Din didn’t hear him amidst the noise of the cantina. The other men voice their frustrations too at your departure. You put your hand on Din’s bicep steering him away from these guys just in case. You don’t need Din starting a bar fight over you. You’re still holding his arm and following Din closely when yet another man comes up to you,

“This Mandalorian isn’t bothering you, baby, is he?” this idiot dares to ask.

“No. He is not.” you grit out as Din says, “She’s fine.” in his best don’t-fuck-with-me voice. It’s lost on this drunk fool though as he just lets out “Woo hoo! She sure is!” and tries to slap your ass, but thankfully you dodge him just in time.

You’re starting to doubt the wisdom in coming into this cantina but now that you’re making it to a booth with Din, you figure you should be all right. The booth has a curved seat following the shape of its round table and as Din places the child in the middle of the seat, he sits down to his right. You slide into your side of the booth opposite Din but before you can get fully seated, a man from the booth right behind you leans over, grabs your wrist and leeringly says, “I got a much better seat for you, mama.” and gestures to his crotch. Repulsed, you slap his hand away and head over to Din’s side of the table. That creep was disgusting but he did give you an idea.

“Will you do me a huge favor?” you ask Din, “Always” he replies instantly. Putting your hand on his shoulder, you climb into his lap while sliding one arm around his neck and then bringing your other hand to rest on his cuirass. You can sense his surprise, yet his arm wraps around your waist instinctively.

“Play along, please?” you whisper to him.

“What are you doing, exactly?” he wants to know.

“Sending a message.” You tuck your head in closer to his in a clearly affectionate way and place a kiss on his helmet where his cheek would be.

“What message would that be?” Din asks still a bit stunned by your actions.

“That I’m yours.” You pause as he absorbs this and then you tell him quietly, “I need you to be a little handsy.”

“Handsy?” he tilts his helmet at you “This feels like a trap.”

“No, I want you to. Be handsy.” You tell him again.

“Ok” he drawls out, “but don’t punch me.”

“I won’t.” You flutter your lashes at him to give the impression to this room of horny strangers that you’re flirting with Din.

Din gives a tiny shrug that you can feel more than see but then brings his free hand up to your face. His gloved hand slowly strokes your cheek as he then lets his fingers trace over your jaw and then down your neck and chest, slowing down even more as he reaches your cleavage and then just gently ghosts his fingers between your breasts before resting his hand just beneath them. You feel your breath hitch and get caught in your throat at the intimacy of his touch and you have to remind yourself that this is just for show, just to get these losers to stop hitting on you. Reminding yourself of the message you want to send, you wonder if this is too subtle. You need to make this definitive.

“Be a little more obvious,” you tell Din, the blush returning to your cheeks, I can’t believe I’m doing this.

“More?” Din tries to confirm, “What do you have in mind?”

“Put your hand up my skirt.”

“Ok, now that is definitely a trap.” he chuckles lightly.

“Do it. Put your hand up my skirt,” you practically demand.

“Well, I’m not going to say no to that,” he responds appearing to be amused by this whole situation. He takes his hand, starts to play with the hem of your dress, and then slowly starts to slide his hand up your thigh under your skirt kneading gently as he goes. You feel like you are dying, it is so sensual and so exactly what you have been dreaming of for weeks now. You knew he would be good at this and it’s killing you that it’s just an act. You squirm a little in his lap unable to help yourself and you think you can feel his own arousal, but you tell yourself you must be imagining it.

Din cannot believe this is happening, how is he this lucky? When he caught sight of the men hitting on you at the bar, he figured it was inevitable that you’d be surrounded by would-be suitors and he cursed himself for leaving you alone in a place like this even for a few minutes. A quick scan of the room showed him that you were absolutely the most beautiful woman there. Not that he was surprised, as he’s rarely seen anyone as stunningly gorgeous as you in his opinion. Plus, given this sexy dress you have on, he’s lucky he didn’t have to pry one of them off you. He noticed it right away before you left the ship earlier and had to put on your cloak, but he was hoping to keep that sight to himself. He knows he shouldn’t think of you that way, but he has given up trying to ignore his feelings for you. It’s not just your beauty, but who you are as a person. He’s never met anyone who’s so easy to talk to and who treats him with such respect and kindness. It shocks him how strongly he trusts you and the way he’s let down his guard around you. You might not realize it but you are the best friend he’s ever had, and although he wants more, he’s not quite ready to risk your friendship. If he messes this up, you might see him as just another jerk hitting on you.

Speaking of, Din figured his intimidating presence would keep the jerks away once he got back over to you, but these fools had clearly never met a Mandalorian before because they didn’t have the good sense to leave you alone even when he was standing right next to you. He had been sure he was going to have to punch the creep that grabbed you but then you were sitting in his lap before he had a chance to stand up and defend you. And now, now, he was cuddling with you in the middle of this crowded cantina, touching you in ways he hadn’t let himself dare to think about. He didn’t need the child’s powers to feel the waves of sheer envy coming off of the men in the room. He smirked to himself under his helmet, letting his hand slide up even higher on your thigh than he would have dared but just because he could.

You are becoming entirely swept away by Din’s ministrations on your thigh, and you hear yourself sighing his name, making him smile even more unbeknownst to you.

“Hmm?” he responds gently

“I--,” but you’re cut off by the waiter finally bringing the food.

“Here’s your order, sir” the waiter gives Din a look that is both impressed and jealous as you hide your face in Din’s neck mortified that you have gotten so carried away with this charade.

“Thanks.” Din tells him, slowly removing his hand from under your dress. You slide off his lap into the booth next to him so you can eat. Din keeps his arm wrapped around your shoulders though and you’re still pressed up against his side. You turn away slightly towards the child who has been amusing himself somehow all this time. You give yourself a chance to regain your composure as you focus on giving him some food. You had started to forget the kid was even there and you feel your face flushing again at your shameless behavior. You take a deep breath and remind yourself that this was necessary, and as you glance around the cantina, you can see that no one is paying attention to you anymore. Your message was clearly received. You sigh to yourself and start to eat your dinner.

Din is relaxed and is enjoying the feel of his arm around you. Every so often, his other hand finds its way to your forearm and brushes over your wrist and hand, not quite trying to holding your hand but almost just to remind you that he’s there. It’s flirtatious and romantic in a way that you both love and can’t stand because you know you just want him to keep doing it. You finish your food slowly trying to find a way to prolong this interlude as much as you can, even if it’s not real. Din notices when you’re done though and says, “Ready to head back to the Crest?” You nod at him, knowing it’s for the best and figuring he must be hungry too. You pick up the child and slide out of the booth following Din. He takes the baby from you and secures him in his satchel before reaching back to take your hand. Din threads his fingers through yours and leads you out of the cantina before the jealous eyes of all the other men who tried to claim you for their own earlier. He holds your hand all the way back to the ship and you let yourself bask in the moment, imagining the two of you as a real couple.

Once you’re back on the ship, you busy yourself with putting the child to bed. He’s already drowsy and practically asleep when you get him secure in his hammock. When you turn back around, Din is just watching you, standing there. You can’t imagine what he’s thinking. You suppose you should give him some privacy, let him have a chance to eat his own dinner, but before you do, you figure you ought to say something after all that.

“Thank you, for doing… for helping me out,” you feel rather flustered and it’s making you babble, “back there.” “I just couldn’t get those guys to bug off.”

“It was my pleasure,” he responds rather cheekily, “I figured I was going to get into a bar brawl, but I liked your idea a hell of a lot better.” He tilts his helmet at you and you can swear that you can hear the smile in his voice.

“Well, thank you, again” you say softly. He steps closer to you and you’re practically touching him as he looks down at you and says with a chuckle, “Any time you need me to feel you up again, just let me know.”

And before you can stop yourself, you blurt out, “I will.”

He laughs and tips his head down to you, “Message received.”

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[clareguilty]

Nice

Read this one on the AO3 you sluts

This is my 69th fic on AO3 which means you should definitely click the link and leave a kudos and a comment saying “Nice”

Mandalorian/Gn!Reader (reader has a coochie)

Rating: Explicit | No Warnings, just 69

Word Count: ~2400

You made doubly sure to lock the door as you trudged into your quarters, engaging both the electronic lock and the manual bolt. Afternoon sun poured into the room from the large window; the sky on this planet turned everything a strange lilac color that you had never seen before -- so used to the orange of Tatooine, but that was about the nicest thing you had found so far since landing here.

Your travels with Din had landed you smack in the middle of some kind of galactic conflict, and neither of you were happy about it. Sure, you supported the New Republic and you wanted to see the last of the Empire wiped away, but you didn’t necessarily want to be on the front lines of that whole mess.

And Din hated it even more than you. Grogu was away training with Commander Skywalker while the two of you had gotten trapped in this horrible diplomatic dispute. From dawn to nightfall it was nothing but meetings and councils and speeches. Din had no choice but to go, an unwilling participant in the Republic after his accidental takeover of the Mandalorian throne. You weren’t necessarily required to attend, but you had very quickly grown bored of sitting idly around the New Republic base and decided that listening to delegates drone on and on about unity and healing was slightly more appealing. Bo Katan had ignored both of your endless pleas to just take the kriffing darksaber, instead scowling from the sidelines of every meeting.

It wasn’t like Din was making these decisions anyways. The other Mandos deliberated over every choice, and he simply passed the messages on as their representative. He was a figure head. Nothing more.

But still, it was only late afternoon, and you were already bone tired. You pulled off your boots and made your way to where Din was sitting on the bed, hunched over with his elbows on his knees. The lilac light reflected off of his newly polished beskar. You thought it looked nice.

“We have to meet everyone for supper this evening,” you reminded him. “I was going to sleep a few hours and then spend tonight drinking as much spotchka as I can get my hands on.”

Din chuckled. “As long as you don’t pass out and leave me to fend off everyone by myself.”

“Sounds tempting.” You draped your overcoat over the nearest chair and pulled your top off. The fancy clothes the New Republic had given you were far less comfortable than the loose, desert-wear you were accustomed to, and you stretched and sighed as soon as you were free from the constricting garments.

Din had glanced up, but you weren’t sure if he was watching you. He had seen you naked plenty of times now, and you were perfectly fine being undressed around him. It had never seemed to bother him, though he was still most comfortable in his armor and helmet. 

Since meeting the other Mandos and rescuing Grogu from the imperials -- and then subsequently letting Commander Skywalker take Grogu for training, Din had been willing to take his helmet off around others. It wasn’t a common occurrence, only in dire situations or at times when he felt completely safe. You had only seen him without it a few times, and you were honored that he trusted you enough to show you his face.

His eyes were so warm, so expressive. His lips were so soft. You cherished every chance to see him, to feel him.

You were folding your pants when Din reached up and pulled his helmet off. Instinctively, you turned away at the first sight of his stubbled jaw. 

“It’s okay,” he said. “You can look.”

You hated the way that your heart sped up as you turned back toward him. You never would have thought that seeing your lover’s face would send such a thrill through you. 

He looked… not very good. Dark circles under his eyes, shoulders hunched with exhaustion. He was under much more stress than you, and it was wearing on him. It pained you to see him this way. You sat next to him on the bed, completely naked while he was still in full armor.

“Maybe you should stay in tonight? It’s just supper. I can pick up something from the kitchen and bring it back here for us. We can get drunk on spotchka in the privacy of our room.” You didn’t even try to hide your staring as you rememorized his features, resisting the urge to brush his flattened curls away from his face.

He shook his head. “It’ll be fine.” Despite not even wanting to be the representative for the Mandalorians, he took the responsibility very seriously. He pushed himself so hard trying to do everything he could for his people. You loved him more for it, but you wanted him to put himself first for once.

You reached out and very gently tugged at his armor. “You’ll rest with me, won’t you?”

He looked at you, his eyes roaming over your body. His eyes darkened, pupils blowing wide. You could tell exactly what he was thinking as he licked his lips.

“Rest,” you insisted, smiling. It was exciting to see the desire in his expression. Din wanted you. It was reassuring to know. He was always so shy, so scared to ask for what he needed, letting you take the lead. You had been with each other many times before, but rarely had he let you see his face. It was sweet, how clearly his desire and arousal were written in his features.

He sighed and rolled his eyes. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him as he began undressing as well. Beskar and tough fabric gave way to tanned, scarred skin and muscle. Your mouth went dry as he bent forward to pull off his boots. He didn’t make the same effort as you to fold his things, simply letting them lay to the side of the bed where he would fetch them later. He was usually so careful with his armor, you knew he must have truly been exhausted.

He tugged his pants off and you noticed that, despite how tired he looked, his cock was already half hard. Maybe... your nap could wait a little while.

When he turned back to you, you were laying back against the pillows, legs splayed, smirking with your lip caught between your teeth. “I changed my mind,” you grinned.

Din flushed bright red, eyes darting everywhere. It was adorable. You knew he could get overwhelmed easily, but it was fun to watch him flush and stammer when you were particularly forward.

“Come here,” you sat up and patted the bed next to you. “What do you need?”

He settled in beside you. And when he didn’t pull away, you leaned in to press a kiss to his cheekbone, gently running your fingers through his helmet-hair. You loved the way he melted into the feeling of your fingers against his scalp. He let out the softest moan, shuddering under your touch.

He didn’t say anything, but he pulled you in so he could cover your chest in chaste kisses, trailing down over your stomach and toward your hips. Occasionally, he stopped to suck a mark into your skin. He enjoyed leaving little reminders, and he absolutely loved when you returned the favor. Even though no one would see the marks, you had caught him admiring them one morning before he put his armor on.

He seemed directionless, unsure as he kissed across your body. You let him take as much time as he needed. He deserved this chance to explore you. He seemed to be working up the courage for something. You got the message when he tried to nudge your thighs apart. Stubble rasping over the soft skin.

Oh.

The two of you had never done that before. Din was hardly comfortable with his helmet off, much less with something as intimate as this. But here he was, kissing along the inside of your thighs.

You had to be careful. So many things were new to Din and you didn’t want to ruin any of his first experiences.

You nudged him away, pulling him in for a breathy kiss. “I’ve got an idea,” you said. “Lay down for me, okay?”

He did as you asked, hands trailing over your skin as you rearranged yourself. You planted your thighs on either side of his head, bracing your hands on his chest as you lined yourself up.  “This okay?” you asked as you peered down at him.

“Yeah,” Din nodded, eyes wide. “More than okay.” He had never been this close to you before -- not like this at least. Now, there were mere centimeters between your pussy and his lips.

You slowly lowered your hips. Din was light, tentative at first. As much as he wanted this, he was out of his depth. You knew this kind of thing was new to him. His tongue found your clit and you moaned. “Just like that,” you encouraged him.

Spurred on by your words, he licked a broad strip over your slit. You couldn’t help but grind down against him. It was slow, teasing for you as he found a pace he was comfortable with. Din had certainly learned how to make you come on his fingers and cock, and he was going to take his time to master this as well.

Without warning, he wrapped his arms around your thighs, gripping tightly as he pulled you closer. You gasped, raking your nails over his stomach. For all of Din’s inexperience, he wanted to make you feel good. 

“Stars! Din!” you gasped. He moaned and his cock twitched where it was resting against his hips. He was already leaking onto his stomach and painfully hard just from having you like this. It was so easy to get him worked up. You knew it would be overwhelming for him, but you couldn’t stop yourself as you reached out to stroke him. He groaned low between your thighs, abs tensing as you dragged your fingers along his length. It didn’t matter to you that he became uncoordinated; you just wanted to show him how good he made you feel, how wonderful it felt to be with him, that even with all of the pressure he was under, he deserved this pleasure.

You leaned down, wrapping your lips around his cock. You weren’t trying to break him, but he gasped and dug his fingers into your thighs, bucking his hips where they were pinned beneath you. It took all of your self restraint to give him a moment to come down. You knew he would finish quickly, overwhelmed as he was. 

Din felt vulnerable without his armor and out of his depth as he tried to pleasure you, but he loved the sounds you made above him, loved the warmth of your body against his and the softness of your breasts against stomach. The way your thighs felt in his grip, and the taste of you. It was too much but in the best of ways. He thought he was going to die the most pleasurable death beneath you.

And he wanted you to feel the same. Even though he was clumsy and uncoordinated and inexperienced, he wanted to make you come. Pulling you close, he licked and sucked your clit, using your moans and praise as guidance.

You came with shaking hips and loud moans around his cock that had him finishing in your mouth with a choked off groan. You continued stroking him even after his cock stopped pulsing. He didn’t stop his own efforts until you were squirming and pulling away from him, rolling to the side with a satisfied sigh. Din was still reeling from the overstimulation. He had wanted to try something new, try to pleasure you in a way he hadn’t been able to before. Now that you could see him -- that you could feel him and know him -- he wanted to give you everything. And you had given him everything in return.

It took several long moments for him to come back to his senses, in which you laid against his side and pulled the cover over you both. You grabbed his face and kissed him deeply, tasting yourself on his tongue as he could taste himself on yours. He shouldn’t have found it as arousing as he did, but he moaned into the kiss.

You held him in your arms, and he placed soft, open-mouthed kisses to your chest. While he knew it would be a while before he wanted anything more, he still wasn’t satisfied, and he slipped his fingers down between your legs to try and coax another orgasm out of you. You let out a small, surprised gasp as he curled his fingers inside you.

Exhaustion had finally gotten to the both of you. When you came, it was a lovely, floating pleasure. Your eyes fluttered shut as you drifted on the haze of orgasm.

Din curled into your chest. You wrapped your arms around him and pressed a kiss to his hair. You still had a few hours before supper, and you were going to make sure Din slept if it was the last thing you did.

“I miss Grogu,” he murmured, half asleep. You felt a pang in your chest. Even if it was for his own good, letting Grogu go with Commander Skywalker was one of the hardest choices both of you had been forced to make. It had been weeks now, and you still expected the little beast to be around every time you woke. You missed the weight of him in your arms and his strange, all knowing eyes. You knew Din only had it worse.

“Me too.” You blinked away tears. “First chance I get, I’ll break us out of here and we can go get him back from Commander Skywalker. What’s one Jedi against two angry parents?”

You felt him smile against your skin. “We’ll be on the run from the Empire and the New Republic.”

“We’ll have the kid hide us with The Force or something. No one will ever find us.” You ran your fingers through his hair, unable to even keep your eyes open.

Din snored softly in your arms. You let yourself drift off as well. After everything, both of you desperately needed the rest. A few hours of sleep would be nice.

[captainkappa]

More modern DinCobb bc ive got the brain rot apparently

High school AU but Cobb is the cool social studies teacher who teaches for like 20 min and then regals the kids with stories and life lessons they’ll actually need

(yeah I know Cobb being marshal means it might be a better parallel to make him be principal, but im driving the car)

(plus Cobb interacting with teens = him interacting with the town and showing how much he cares bc marhsal of small Tatooine town and teacher are both thankless jobs)

Jo is the student teacher in his class

Din is the substitute teacher who is dead quiet for most of the class but then some shenanigans happen and all the kids come out of the class like “Yo, Mr. Djarin is so cool!!”

Outside of work, Din is very much an overworked dad working multiple jobs who always feels guilty leaving Grogu in aftercare

Cobb just kind of hears about Din through the grapevine, maybe they share a free period in the teacher’s lounge once, but Din isn’t around enough because again, substitute

But then, Din loses one of his many jobs and is stressed about the lack of income

But he’s saved because a teacher is going out on maternity leave so the school needs a longer commitment from him

And Din is not used to like, actually teaching from the lesson plans provided for him, but he’s determined (questionable, but the kids seem amused)

and would you look at that, Cobb and Din’s classrooms are right across the hall from each other who would’ve thought

Cobb finally gets to interact with Din for long stretches of time and they bond over such Great Activities such as:

Monitoring the halls between classes

Frantically borrowing school supplies from each other because the school doesn’t pay them enough to stock it themselves

School spirit week (Din is horrified that this school actually goes all out for spirit week?? so he has to as well? Well he doesn’t have to, but if wearing school colors will get Cobb to stop giving him those damn puppy eyes, so be it)

The first time Cobb meets Grogu and has to excuse himself from the room because “oh no, not only is Din cute he’s a dad who cares so much”

Jo is forced to watch all this from the sidelines, silently judging Cobb for not putting two and two together that the pining is Mutual

[spell-cleaver]

Weakly, Luke attempted to shift himself further back on the cot, only to let out a pained hiss. The noise finally stirred the Sith Lord into action as he finally strode into the tiny imperial cell. Almost immediately Han moved to block his path "Don't you dare touch h-" he was cut off as he was thrown into the wall of the cell by an invisible force, a groan exited his lips but Vader paid him no mind. Eventually he came to a halt in front of the cot and stared down at the injured Luke. After what seemed like an age, he finally spoke; "Who harmed you young one?"

DAY 30: ANGSTOBER: Trapped @angstober

Set in the same AU as this ficlet and this ficlet!

Weakly, Luke attempted to shift himself further back on the cot, only to let out a pained hiss. The noise finally stirred the Sith Lord into action as he strode into the tiny Imperial cell.

Almost immediately, Han moved to block his path. "Don't you dare touch h—"

He was cut off as he was thrown into the wall of the cell by an invisible force. A groan exited his lips, but Vader paid him no mind.

Eventually he came to a halt in front of the cot and stared down at the injured Luke. After what seemed like an age, he finally spoke:

"Who harmed you young one?"

“Your men did,” Luke snapped, “when they stalked Han to Tatooine and shot at us there!”

Vader clenched his fists and Han watched him physically restrain himself as he growled out, “They were not supposed to.”

And Han was struck anew by the awkwardness of Vader—the same man who’d stood before him and confessed to a lifetime of mistakes hoping for a son’s absolution and acceptance now stood in front of his true son, with no idea of how to reply. Luke was still clutching his side desperately, tears leaking from his eyes, and it hurt Han to look at, he wanted to go back and shoot those troopers right through their bantha crap helmets before they could take aim at Luke. He wanted to go closer—it was obvious Luke needed someone to hold him, a hand to squeeze in the hopes it would make the pain go away—but when he tried, Vader just shoved him back again.

Han’s head hit the wall, hard; all he heard was Luke’s shout. “Han!”

He forced his eyes open, not liking the dizziness he was feeling suddenly. “…s’alright… sweetheart…” he got out. “I can take him.”

Luke was definitely glaring at him. “You’ve been conscious for ten minutes, stop picking a fight!”

Yes. Yes, Han had only been conscious for ten minutes, because he’d been knocked out by a stun bolt the moment he took a step out of the docking bay and trussed up as bait for Luke to come rescue, and then he’d woken up to his boyfriend in a cell next to him groaning about his wound, and—

Luke didn’t know.

Han hadn’t been able to tell him.

Han needed to—

Luke turned that belligerent glare of his on Vader. “Leave him alone,” Luke snapped.

Vader clearly picked up on something then, stiffening, turning to observe Han and Luke, head tilting this way and back. “What…” He seemed to be struggling for words just as fiercely as his vocoder was struggling to interpret the cadences he was going for. “What is the nature of the relationship between you two?”

Han laughed. “Oh, now you’re interested?”

“Just leave him alone!” Luke said. “What does it matter and what do you care? It’s got nothing to do with you.”

“It has everything to do with me, young one—”

Vader stepped forwards, looming, and Han went, “Nope.”

He inserted himself between Luke, still half-hunched over on the bunk, and Mr Tall, Dark and Paternal, doing his best to hold his gaze stubbornly. “Leave Luke alone. I know why you want him and I know that you’re just kriffing things up for yourself!”

“If I wanted your opinion, Solo,” Vader growled, “I would ask for it.” He lifted his hand, clearly about to toss Han into the wall again, when he stopped. His mask was angled down, to where Luke had grabbed Han’s hand, tightly enough it was bruising.

Han set his jaw, raised his eyebrows at Vader, and interlocked their fingers.

Vader said, “I should kill you for this alone, Solo.”

“That’s not very parental of you,” Han shot back. He was pretty sure Luke thought he had a death wish.

“Han…”

“I’ll tell you what, Your Asthmatic Lordliness,” Han said. Luke hiccupped—maybe that was laughter, maybe it was a gasp of fear, Han had no idea. All he knew was that Luke was hurt, shit was about to go down, and the sooner Vader stopped being eerie and cryptic the sooner they could both get Luke to a medbay. “Stand outside the cell. I’ll break the news to him gently. Then you can come in here, be the… role model…” He gave Vader a sceptical look. “…ya always wanted to be, and get this kid to a medbay before his injury gets worse. We got a deal?”

Vader stared at him for a moment, as if he could not imagine someone was that stupid. “I will tell him,” he growled. “I deserve to—and you are lucky I do not behead you where you stand, Solo, particularly considering what you know, and what you have done—”

“What are you going to tell me?” Luke said sharply. “What’s going on? Han—”

“Obi-Wan lied to you, Luke,” Vader boomed.

“Yeah,” Luke snapped back, “I guessed that after what Han said over the comm. What I want to know is what about. What are you—”

“Everything.” Vader folded his arms behind his back and paced the tiny cell. Perhaps it was stress-relieving for him, but Han and Luke just exchanged a look; it was a small enough room that the cape whacked their legs with every turn, and it just felt very threatening. “He is a liar and a traitor—a prime example of why the Jedi were weak and needed to be exterminated. Nothing he said to you can be trusted, particularly not—”

Han leaned into Luke and whispered, “Vader is your dad.”

Vader stopped pacing. Clearly, he’d heard that.

Luke stiffened. The hand that wasn’t grasping Han’s released his side and grabbed Han’s arm, smearing it with blood. “What!?”

“He used to be Anakin Skywalker. He made a lot of mistakes. Gave me a whole sappy speech about it when he thought I was you. He didn’t kill your father; Ben Kenobi lied. He is your father.”

Luke blew his eyes wide.

He stared at Vader. “Is this true!?” To Han, pleading: “Tell me you’re having me on.”

“It is true, Luke,” Vader said. He stepped forwards, reaching out a hand for Luke’s face; Luke watched him warily, like he was ready to bite one of Vader’s fingers off, but he let Vader brush a finger down his face. “Obi-Wan stole you from me. I have been searching for you from the moment I learned your name.”

“I see. And you thought Han was me?” Luke raised an eyebrow.

Han got the sense that if Vader was anyone else (and in a larger room) he would have taken a step back. “I…” he said weakly. “There were holos of the Rebel medal ceremony after Yavin. He… was tall…”

Han looked at Vader—a two-metre-tall monster—and then at his tiny, blond son. He couldn’t quite stifle his guffaw.

Luke just glared. “You’re my father?”

“Yes.”

“You had your men shoot me?”

“They were not supposed to. They will be facing severe consequences for this.”

Luke’s face was beyond confused.

But he said, “Then take me to a medbay. I’m your son. I’m injured—unless you want to keep me trapped in here until I bleed out?”

Vader stood in stunned silence for a moment. Han couldn’t help but feel pettily pleased.

Vader clearly hadn’t planned on Han. He hadn’t planned on Luke being injured. He hadn’t planned on resistance.

Vader was a kriffing idiot. This was his situation—if he wanted to value some dramatic entrance over just shooting first, getting it over with and doing damage control later, Han wasn’t about to stand for that.

Luke needed him here, clearly.

“…yes,” Vader said finally. “I will take you to a medbay, son.”

He put emphasis on the word. As if either of them had forgotten.

Han rolled his eyes, and took Luke’s arm.

“C’mon, kid,” he said. “Let’s get you checked up.”

[dameronology]

old times & new times {luke skywalker x reader}

luke skywalker + 2) ‘you pushed me away’ (from the angst prompts) for @mszosterstark 

i’m so sorry this took so long!! i’m still working through requests from like...october?? i hope you enjoy! ❤️

-jazz xx

Luke Skywalker should have been happy.

The war was over and the Rebebllion had won. The Empire was in a million little pieces over the moons of Endor and it felt like the sun was finally starting to peak through the cracks of years’ worth of storm clouds. He had a family by his side and his future as a Jedi was looking brighter than ever. This was everything he’d wanted for so long; it was everything he’d fought for, everything he’d envisioned. He’d never been a the grass is always greener kind of guy but Luke knew there was something missing.

It was you. 

Back in the days of the war, when he’d sneak to your room at 4AM or when you’d slip out of the base to go for an early morning walk, you would spend hours talking about your future. At the time, neither of you had known whether or not you even had one, but it had a fun coping mechanism; pretending, acting like you were certain that the Rebellion was gonna pull through. You’d day-dreamed about where you were gonna live and how you were going to get married. Whilst Han and Leia were a few feet away going back and forth, you and Luke were the very opposite. Solid. Secure. Permanent.

There was a sense of irony to that statement now, considering that the two of them were better than ever and Luke had managed to lose you entirely. He couldn’t even recall how it happened and that was probably the worst part. He’d just been...busy. Stressed and torn in a million different directions by the war. It was the usual story of not realising what you had before it was too late. By the time Luke even realised that he’d been taking you for granted, you were already out the door. The new galaxy was calling, full of opportunity and excitement, and you weren’t going to wait. Ironically, it had been a world that he had helped to create - and he’d lost you to it.

Luke would have asked - begged, even - for a second chance if he knew where to find you. But that was the thing: he couldn’t. He’d asked around but nobody seemed to know. Someone thought they’d seen you on Naboo, and another pilot could have sworn you flew past him on his way to the Outer Rim. You were everywhere and no-where. Seen by everybody and seen by no-one.

Life sometimes had a funny way of working out; when you spend hours searching high and low for something, you won’t find it, then the minute you stop, it’s right in front of you. If Luke had known that was the case, he wouldn’t have bothered looking in the first place. He almost felt his soul leave his body when you walked into the New Republic base, arms linked with Leia as you laughed together. His sister hadn’t half given him a bollocking when she found out how he’d treated you. Really, it was a miracle there were no sharp objects within the vicinity. 

Your eyes met from across the room -- you stopped in your tracks, the smile falling from your face and your brow furrowing. It could have been worst, right? You could have burst into tears, or gone right up to him and smacked him. 

‘Luke.’ You forced a smile. ‘Hi.’

‘H-hey.’ He hadn’t stuttered in a long time; not since he was trying to chat up his cute neighbour on Tatooine. ‘I wasn’t expecting to see you here.’

‘Likewise.’ You replied. ‘I thought you were out on Coruscant these days.’

‘I am most the time.’ He said. ‘But I guess I’m all over the place.’

‘In more ways than one.’ Leia muttered. ‘I’ll give you two a minute.’

The Princess released her grip on your arm, shooting her brother a look that said if you try anything, I’ll know. Of course, she wanted nothing more than you both to be happy but it was simply in Leia’s nature to look out for you. After giving you a brief pat on the shoulder, she looked between the two of you and floated away, leaving a trail of expensive Alderanian perfume in her wake. 

‘It’s been a while.’ You awkwardly shuffled on your feet, eyes falling to the floor. 

‘Where have you been?’ Luke gently asked. ‘I, uh...I was looking for you, for a while.’

‘Everywhere, actually.’ You replied. ‘I guess I’ve been doing a bit of everything.’

‘But you’re back here now?’ He had a hopeful glint in his eye that you hadn’t seen since long before the war. ‘For good?’

‘I don’t know. Maybe.’ You shrugged. ‘Why?’

‘You know why.’ Luke muttered. ‘I haven’t stopped thinking about you since you left.’

‘I’m not the one who left, Luke.’ You reminded. 

‘I got home one day and you were gone.’ He shot back. 

‘That’s not the full story.’ You quietly sighed. ‘You pushed me away.’

He’d cocked it up; let the person in the galaxy slip through his fingers, right in front of his very eyes. People were lucky to find what you had two had once in their life, let alone twice. He knew he was never going to find someone like you again and frankly, he didn’t want to. He wanted you and only you, and he would have gone back in time and relived the horrors of the war if it meant convincing you to stay. 

‘I’m sorry. I know that doesn’t change anything but I am.’ Luke slowly reached a hand out towards yours. His fingers gently brushed the back of your palm, and you didn’t push away. That was a good sign, right? 

‘I know.’ You offered him a small smile. ‘But in the grand scheme of things, life isn’t bad, right? We won the war. The Empire’s gone. That’s all you ever wanted.’

‘I wanted it with you.’ He replied. ‘I spoke about this kind of future with you. It doesn’t feel right to have all this without by my side.’

‘I get that, but if you’d focused solely on our relationship, we might not have all of this. You did what you had to do and I respect that.’

‘That’s the past now - the war, the Empire, letting it consume my life.’ He put a hand under your chin, prompting you to finally look up at him. ‘Please let me make it right?’

You missed him - you couldn’t deny that. You’d been thinking about him a lot, wondering how he was doing and whether you should reach out. Thanks to Leia, you knew that he’d been okay (sometimes barely) but you couldn’t help but feel like you should have been there. He still had a lot riding on his shoulders - rebuilding the New Republic, training to be a Jedi, sorting out the remaining Imps - and you’d always been his support system. In return, he’d been yours. There were days when you still needed him and it had hurt to be without him. 

‘How?’ You asked quietly.

‘I’m free tonight.’ Luke replied. ‘Let’s go to Tatooine, to that little diner we used to love.’

‘Luke, Tatooine is ages away-’

‘- I have my X-Wing!’ He insisted. ‘C’mon. It’ll be like old times.’

‘Do we want it to be like old times?’

‘Then it’ll be the first of new times.’ He flashed you a smile. ‘Please?’

‘Yeah, okay.’ It didn’t take much convincing, not when Luke was involved. ‘I’d like that.’

He leant forward, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. ‘Thank you.’ 

[stellarstarwarsimagines]

A Normal Date

Pairing - Rey x Reader

Summary - Between trying to recruit other systems to the Resistance cause, fighting a War with the First Order, and Rey’s new Jedi training, the two of you hadn’t had time for normal things like a date. You’re determined to change that. 

Word Count - 2,043

Warnings - None! 

“So we’re actually doing this?” 

“We are one hundred percent doing this.” You replied, a large grin on your face as you tugged Rey down the street by her hand. 

She still didn’t seem to believe it. “There’s no mission? Nothing that we’ve been sent here for that I don’t know about?” She asked you. 

You pulled her to a stop, turning so you could look at her. “Not that I know of. Unless you know something.” You said, raising your eyebrows at her in suspicion. 

The both of you stared at each other for a moment with intense looks on your faces. Then you both started laughing. You couldn’t help but smile at the sound. Rey was so stressed all the time with learning how to be a Jedi, and attempting to save the world, you cherished every moment that you were able to make her laugh or smile. She had earned it. Your look turned fond as she gave you her own smile, giving your hand a squeeze. “A normal date then?” 

“A normal date.” You agreed, as the two of you began walking again. “I was thinking we could go to the local cantina, and then maybe sit out by the water for a while, and then I could fly us out back to base in time for your training in the morning.” 

“That sounds wonderful.” She said, her dimpled smile never fading as the two of you made your way into the local cantina. 

It wasn’t often that the two of you got to do something as simple as sit and talk. Rey was always busy working on Jedi business, and you were always busy working on various X-Wings and recruiting on other planets. Time didn’t often overlap for the two of you, and you had to take every opportunity you got, not wanting to waste a second you could have been spending with her. 

From the moment you had met after the Battle of Crait, you had been impressed by her. You had been one of the Resistance members fighting off the First Order when you had seen the Millenium Falcon drawing the fire away from your speeders. Even then you remember thinking how amazing that pilot and gunner were. 

After that you were introduced to Rey. From the moment you met her, you knew she was someone amazing, even if she didn’t always sense it herself. It had been easy for the two of you to bond. She loved hearing about all the different places that you had traveled, and you loved hearing all of her tales about how she had survived on Tatooine. Then the conversations got deeper and more intimate, and next thing you knew, the two of you were sharing kisses and holding each other while you watched the stars. 

But the two of you had never been on a real date before. You hadn’t had the time. Ever since the Battle of Crait, Finn, Poe and you had been in a constant state of travel to different planets while Rey had been busy Jedi training with General Leia. It was exhausting trying to make time together with your different schedules, and you had enough. You had gone to the General, and with as much respect as you could, asked for a few hours alone with your girlfriend. It seemed as if she understood, and here the two of you were, walking hand in hand to an empty table. 

“What do you want to drink?” You asked her as she slid into the booth first. 

“Surprise me,” she replied, shrugging her shoulders. 

You nodded, and made your way to the bar where an irritated looking Arcona took your order and began making your drinks. You turned around, giving Rey a soft smile as she waited for you, when a conversation nearby grabbed your attention. 

“How do you know it’s the First Order?” a man was saying to another. 

“You think I don’t recognize a tie when I see it?” He answered, offended. 

“Well what do you reckon they’re doing all the way out here?” The first man asked, his words, though he didn’t know it, stopping your blood cold. 

“What else is the First Order always doing? Looking for Resistance members.” 

Without taking the drinks that the Arcona had almost thrown down in front of you, you threw some credits on the table and hurried back to Rey. “We’ve got to get out of here.” 

Her eyebrows furrowed together as she looked at you. “Why?” 

“We may be having -” Before you could even finish your sentence, a pair of StormTroopers burst through the doors. “Shit.” You slid into the booth beside Rey as fast as you could as you took your scarf from around your neck and fashioned it over Rey’s head to cover most of her face. 

“They know what you look like too!” Rey hissed, trying to stop your hands, but you shoved her efforts away. 

“Yes, but I’m not the one who’s been in their Supreme Leader’s head multiple times.” You adjusted it one more time to make sure it was covering as much of her face as it could while still remaining natural. “If they recognize you, how long until Ren’ll be here?” 

Rey groaned. 

“You should really stop capturing people’s hearts you know. I mean I believe I’m handling it well, but others -”

“I’m not trying to capture anyone’s -!”

She sounded so offended you couldn’t help but smirk at her, grabbing a hold of her hand, and giving it a squeeze. “I know.” You said, giving her hand a quick kiss. “Let’s get out of here all right?” 

She nodded and the two of you slid out of the booth, your hands tight in each other’s grip. You tried not to focus too much on the Troopers who were making their presence well known at this point, stopping person after person in the Cantina and checking their appearance. Someone must have tipped them off, but there was no telling who. You knew there had to be a nice price on Rey’s head, and there was no telling what was on yours. You didn’t intend to find out. After all, your mentor had taught you a few tricks you had up your sleeves. 

The tightened squeeze on your hand alerted you back to Rey who was watching an approaching StormTrooper warily. There would be no way to avoid him without suspicion. You hand reached into your pocket, gripping the weapon of choice, but it seemed as if Rey had other ideas. 

As the Trooper stepped right in front of you, her free hand swept up, waving in front of the Trooper’s face in a smooth motion. “We’re not the Resistance Members you’re looking for.” She spoke in a calm voice. 

“You’re not the Resistance Members we’re looking for.” He repeated, sounding the slightest bit confused by his statement. 

“They left earlier in the day.” She added on, the confidence in her voice growing. “You just missed them.” 

“We just missed them!” The Trooper said, sounding annoyed with himself. 

“We’ll be on our way now.” Rey said, pulling you forward. 

“On your way, Citizens.” The Trooper said, gesturing his arm ahead of the both of you to move you along. 

Rey’s grip on you tightened as she pulled your stunned self behind her. “When did you learn how to do that?!” You almost hissed at her in disbelief. 

“Um, the first time Kylo kidnapped me.” Rey answered, glancing around for more Troopers before the two of you stepped out onto the street. 

“And you haven’t used it since?!” You asked in shock. 

“Well I wasn’t sure how -” She didn’t get to finish her sentence. For the two of you turned a corner and almost ran headfirst into another Trooper. 

You glanced over at Rey, waiting for her to do her Jedi-mind-thing whatever it was, but she didn’t get the chance. “Hey! I know you two!” The Trooper shouted, reaching for his blaster. 

Unfortunately for him, you were much faster. You spun yours out from your waist and stunned the trooper straight through the chest. “Run!” You called to Rey, and she didn’t need to be told twice. 

Within seconds the two of you were running through the town as fast as you could, but it turned out more StormTroopers were in town than you had thought. The farther away you got, the more seemed to be following you, firing from their blasters left and right. It was only a matter of time until one of them hit you, or worse, Rey, and their blasters weren’t set to stun like yours. 

Your opening came a few moments later. Startling Rey, you took a sudden turn, tugging her back against your body and covering her mouth because you knew she would have something to say. “I’ve got a plan,” you whispered in her ear, trying to ignore how good she smelled and how nice it was to have her pressed against you. 

She didn’t seem to mind, nodding and pressing against you even more as you heard the StormTroopers come to a stop. You dropped your hand from her mouth and slid it down to her hip, clutching at her as you heard the StormTroopers decide to split up since they didn’t notice which direction you had gone. 

“What’s your plan?” Rey hissed as you both heard at least two StormTroopers approaching your hiding place. 

Truth was, you didn’t have much of one, so you said the first thing that came to your mind. “Um, a distraction?” 

Even though you couldn’t see Rey’s eyes, you could almost sense them narrowing as if she already knew that was the extent of your plan. “What kind of distraction?” She hissed as the footsteps came even closer. She backed up against you once more, trying to keep both of you pressed even closer against the wall, and in the process, she knocked against the bag you had slung low on your hips. 

It was at that moment that you remembered what you had put in that bag, in case of a situation such as this. After all, you could never be too careful. You reached inside, grabbing the orbs and tightening your grip on them. “This kind.” You smirked at her as you popped out from your hiding spot, in full view of the Troopers. “Hey guys! See if you can hit this!” You yelled, activating the bombs and throwing them towards some carts that they were standing near. 

To your slight surprise, it worked like a charm, the bomb sending articles of wood and fruit flying while you grabbed Rey’s hand and escaped in the smoke. To your amazement, you didn’t run into any more trouble, and the two of you snuck off on your borrowed ship from Lando before the First Order even had a clue. 

Once the two of you were safe in hyperspace, you couldn’t help but frown. All you had wanted to do was spend some time with Rey where neither of you had to worry about the War going on all around you, but it seemed like that would be impossible until all this was over. Was it even worth trying to continue something right now? 

That was when the best sound distracted you, Rey’s laughter filling up the cabin like music. 

You turned to look at her, disbelief on your face that she was laughing, to find her doubled over and clutching her stomach, her laughter shaking her whole body. When she noticed you were looking at her, she struggled to stop her laughter so she could speak. “Did you - did you see the look on their faces when you threw that at them?” 

Raising your eyebrows at her, you shook your head. “No, because they’re StormTroopers . . . They were wearing helmets.” 

Rey waved your words away, “I know, I know, but . . . I could just tell.” 

It was impossible to stop a smile from forming when she looked so beautiful and happy. She noticed your staring and you didn’t miss the faint flush that fell on her cheeks as you reached for her hand again, taking it in your own. 

Maybe this date hadn’t been such a disaster after all.