#the pilot didn’t quite click with me so I wasn’t expecting this
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saltycorgi · 4 months ago
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The Amazing Digital Circus is really starting to grow on me… it’s definitely not a perfect show, but the concept is intriguing and (most) characters are pretty likeable.. I’m excited for more episodes??
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northerncopse · 1 year ago
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00’00” NCNC NEWS AT NINE 18/10 BROADCAST BLOCK ONE TRANSCRIPT
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DONNA MARYWORTH: Good evening, Northern Copse. I’m Donna Maryworth. CLARK HENNING: And I’m Clark Henning. And you’re watching– BOTH: News at Nine. INTRODUCTION MUSIC & ANIMATION (00’08” – 00’23”). MUSIC FADES OUT. 00’ 23” CUT TO STUDIO. BLOCK ONE. (00’23” – 09’57”) D.M.: They said they flew up too high. They said they were filled with hubris and tried to strike the Gods and escape from the cursed island. They said they’ll burn up their wings if they fly too close to the Sun. C.H.: And it seems that our Conspirological League wasn’t wrong. Just this morning a shipping flight under number “8505S” crashed in the nearby field just a few kilometres from Northern Copse. The experts quickly arrived at the scene and discovered the plane to be of unknown origin. The Society of Curious Eyes has already started an investigation. Join our reporter – John Hamlock – as he bravely steps into an unknown territory and investigates whatever it was that the 8505S flight was carrying. 01’12” CUT TO HAMLOCK’S REPORT.
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JOHN HAMLOCK: Thank you. My name’s John Hamlock and we’re standing right here, at the Southern Northern Copse’s Airport near which, just a few kilometres over there– [GESTURES OFF-CAMERA] the plane crashed. J.H.: According to certain experts and authorities of Northern Copse, including the Society of Curious Eyes, this plane was flying from east to west at speeds beyond what current technology can prove. Some speculations tell us that this plane might have been a military cargo plane that was transporting creatures of unknown origin. Here, you can see its approximate route.
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J.H.: As you can notice, the unmarked plane was travelling in a straight line over the Great Forest of Northern Copse, before losing control near the airport. The plane crashed at 8:43 A.M. according to eyewitnesses. Here is what the locals have to say.
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MEGAN HENERY: Oh, it was bloody awful, I tell you. Bloody awful. Oh, and the noise it was making! I was in my garden at that time when the plane flew over my house. Doing my morning exercises, yes, doing them. You know, the doctor, he told me that they’re very good for you. Even gave me some directions on how to do them, when to do them. I tell you, he’s a very goo– J.H.: [OFF-CAMERA] Mrs. Henery, please stay on topic. M.H.: Oh, yes, excuse me! Well, anyway, the plane flew over me and it made such a weird noise. It was like... Like clicking. Or maybe clacking. You know the noises that cicadas do? It was similar to that, but not quite. And then I saw that smoke started coming out of it, pouring in black clouds. I even stopped doing my exercising in the garden! Such awful it was, yes.
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HARLEY WAX: Well, I certainly wouldn’t describe it as ‘clicking’ or ‘clacking’, but it certainly was an unusual noise for a plane. I work at the airport, primarily in the early hours, and I was very confused when I saw the plane appear on the radar. It seemingly popped into existence, you get what I’m saying? H.W.: Now, I’m used to unusual situations, that’s necessary for my job, so I contact the 8505S plane. J.H.: [OFF-SCREEN] Why exactly do you contact the pilots of the flight? H.W.: Well, there are many reasons you’d want to contact a plane. Sometimes it’s to give directions, but in this case it was to... Well, you– you don’t get random planes flying over a large airport without it being an emergency. We usually get routes of all the planes that pass on our territory so that we know what to expect. That was different. H.W.: I immediately found it weird and suspicious – the pilots didn’t respond to my attempts at contacting them. I assumed that the 8505S flight had lost their communications and might have needed an emergency landing, which is why I cleared the 3rd lane where another passenger plane was planning on taking off. H.W.: So there I sat with my colleagues who also gathered around their monitors, looking at the updating flight information. I continued to try and contact the pilots, but I eventually gave up. A few minutes later, the plane passed over our airport. We all looked out of our windows. Trust me, I was so shocked when I saw that plane catch on fire. One of my colleagues began calling 9-1-1 when she saw that plane. H.W.: It was also flying incredibly weird. I’d probably say that the computer – I assume that that plane was equipped with a computer, because just look at its size – it was broken and the pilots might have been fighting for the controls of the plane. You know, the plane was flying to the left and then it would jerk to the right, almost zigzagging in the sky. Another few minutes later and we heard a loud crash and an explosion. Then I heard sirens coming from the distance. Despite this, the airport continued to operate. The early morning passengers were getting a bit frustrated from the delayed flights. [CHUCKLES] J.H.: But what do the officials say? What exactly was in that plane and can the public get their hands on it? We interviewed Anne Standing – the Ministry of Internal Affairs Chief, as well as the independent, crowdfunded Society of Curious Eyes.
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ANNE STANDING: We want to assure the population of Northern Copse that the public is safe and sound. The Ministry of Internal Affairs is doing everything in our hands to examine the incident. J.H.: [OFF-CAMERA] Can you comment on the rumours about ‘other-worldly’ creatures being carried on the plane? A.S.: The MIA has found nothing of suspicion to be on the plane. The examination of the crash site has shown some non-human skeletons, so we can say that the 8505S flight either carried animal skeletons to a museum of some sort or archeological findings to a research facility. Nothing alive or alien has been found on site. J.H.: [OFF-CAMERA] Do you have anything else to say to the public? A.S.: Yes, the MIA would like to issue some regulations for the following two weeks in Northern Copse. These are to do with the uprising of certain public figures and extremist organisations and I can personally reassure you and the public that it has nothing to do with the incident. It’s just that you don’t get often shown on TV and I will take this opportunity. A.S.: The regulations are as follows: No nightwalks past 0000 hours, that is twelve A.M; children younger than twelve should not be left outside for too long without any adults; lights should be turned off preferably past 0200 hours, that is two A.M., in cases of emergency minimal lightings should be turned on past 0400 hours, that is four A.M.; each household should own an emergency supply of necessities – foods, clothing, clean water, items for personal hygiene; everyone should put their documents – IDs, passports, etc. – in an easily available place in case of an emergency. That is all, thank you.
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ANDREW ROBERTSON: We’re still currently investigating the mysterious plane. However, what we can say is this: it seems that the plane was carrying not just skeletons, but live specimens too. There are a few corpses of various animals lying on site. Our agents are already trying to identify their origin, but it’s most likely nothing other than some chimpanzees and monkeys. Possibly a few cats and dogs too. [SPEAKING TO SOMEBODY OFF-PHONE] J.H.: Mr. Robertson, can you tell us where the plane might have been flying? Is it really a government plane? A.R.: Sorry, one second. [SPEAKING TO SOMEBODY OFF-PHONE] Yes, I’m here. Excuse me, we’re still on site and the plane just caught on fire. Luckily we always bring our fire extinguishers with us. A.R.: As to your question, it’s hard to say. There are no marks or any signs on the plane. Which is very weird, even passenger planes have some ways to distinguish them. But there’s just nothing here. I mean, we still haven’t figured everything out. The plane crashed into bits and pieces, there’s wreckage probably for miles away here. I hope there weren’t any passengers there, but for now, we just found the two bodies of the pilots. J.H.: [EXCITEDLY] Do you have names? Badges? A.R.: No, nothing. Just their uniforms; no credentials, no ID cards, no anything. Our experts are working on pinning the identity of the two men. They’re white, around middle-aged, athletic. That’s all we can say right no– [SIRENS] J.H.: Mr. Robertson? A.R.: [SPEAKING TO SOMEBODY OFF-PHONE] What? Why?! [SPEAKING INTO PHONE] Sorry, we have to go. [CALL ENDS]
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J.H.: The weird incident will most likely haunt Northern Copse for many days, feeding into childish nightmares. Drawing conclusions at such an early stage and only a few hours later would be a mistake, but we will keep you updated on the situation. Stay safe and stay sane. John Hamlock, Northern Copse. 09’10” CUT TO STUDIO. D.M.: Thank you, John. It seems that this curiosity will remain in our minds for more than we expected. But not to worry, our brave agents and police officers are all on the lookout to keep our town nice and safe. C.H.: Next up: new clues uncover the possible truth about the death of young Robert Williams. Join us after a short ad break. D.M.: And don’t forget that today’s the continuation of ‘Behind the Shadows’, a new drama TV show. In today’s episode we learn more about Mia Lucid and her past, as well as the past of the sleepy town she arrived at. Fighting off ghosts of her past and figuring out the mystery chain of murders in her new town is what awaits us in episode two. This and more at– BOTH: Northern Copse News Channel. 09’57” CUT TO ‘COMING NEXT’.
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CUT TO AD BREAK. END BLOCK ONE.
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oswildin · 2 years ago
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Rooting For The Anti-Hero {Dhawan!Master x Reader}
Summary: Perhaps all The Master needed was a companion. TPOTD Cannon-Divergence
A/N: I HAD THIS IDEA AFTER SEEING @death-by-sc0tland’s POST REGARDING DHAWAN!MASTER SAYING TO YAZ ‘IM FUN TOO’ , SO TY FOR THE INSPO
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Travelling with the Doctor was wonderful. It was eye-opening, full of self discovery, amazing and most of all dangerous. That was ultimately why you took a step back all those years ago. You’d met The Doctor in their tenth self, and travelled with him for a bit. But found the lifestyle too much for a late teen/young adult. You wanted to experience human life. Normal human life, before you missed that chance. You’d had a few more run-ins with the Timelord throughout your time on Earth, meeting his 11th and 12th self. But still you chose to stay put.
And now, being older and wiser and feeling more accomplished with your life on Earth, you found yourself wrapped up in another one of The Doctors adventures. You found out this was her 13th self. She appeared to have picked up some more companions along her way, and built herself a little TARDIS family. What she least expected was you asking to re-join her.
“Could I… I don’t know-“ You shrugged, playing with your hands as she stood in the doorway of her ship. “Maybe I could join you again?” You asked, as she stayed quiet, staring at you, which made you feel like you’d overstepped. “Only if you want me to, I don’t want to intrude-“
“Yes.” She breathed out, as you looked back at her, seeing a smile on her face. “Of course you can!” She nodded. “I’d love it.”
And that’s how you ended up a meeting The Master.
“If it isn’t (Y/N) (L/N)… You just couldn’t stay away from her could you?”
He stood before you all, eyeing you all up on the plane that was threatening to crash any second.
“And of course, she welcomed you back with open arms.” He glanced at The Doctor. “Building yourself quite the team.” He looked at you all, but you noticed something shift in his eyes. What was it? Envy? Sadness? “And now they’re all going to die, because of little old me.” And as quickly as that look came it was gone.
You all, of course, ran into him again, this time with his Cyberman army, and the discovery that Gallifrey had been burned to the ground. When The Doctor returned to the spare TARDIS, she was on her own. The Master no where in sight.
“What happened?” You asked, as she looked tired, piloting the ship away from the explosion as she ignored you. “Doctor, The Master-“
“Is gone.” She snapped, as you recoiled slightly at her tone. You furrowed your brows.
“Did you try to-“ You began but she slammed her hands down on the console, as everyone in the room jumped at the sudden noise.
“He’s gone!” She yelled, anger evident on her features as you silently nodded your head, deciding to leave her be. You didn’t know what had happened, nor what they spoke about, or even how she felt about her home being burnt. Again.
That was when you felt The Doctor pulling away. The only person that could seem to talk to her was Yaz. It hurt. Knowing you’d spent time with her before, and helped her through a tough time in her life when she was 10. But you came to the conclusion, you’d served your time for her. You’d been there when she needed, and now what she needed wasn’t you.
And now there you were stood outside The Masters cell at UNIT. Why? Curiosity.
“Has The Doctor sent you to keep an eye on me?” He quipped, raising a brow as he slowly approached the cell bars. “Are cameras not enough?” You stayed quiet, observing him. “It’s hard isn’t it.” He narrowing his eyes. “Being tossed aside.” You furrowed your brows at his words. “Knowing she doesn’t need you anymore… Just like her other little pets she dumped back home.” He sniffed as he stood directly a few feet in front of you, staring through the bars. “Nothing to say? No smart remark about how she will always need you?” You didn’t budge, keeping your composure as he clicked his tongue. “You’re no fun.” He sighed.
“Don’t you get bored?” You asked, finally speaking as he raised a brow. “Doing the same thing over and over again… For what? To one up The Doctor?” He suddenly smirked, taking another step forward, his chest close to the bars.
“What about you? Do you get bored, (Y/N)?” He quipped back. “If I remember correctly, you left the Doctor once before… To go back to little old Earth… Experience life.” He laughed slightly. “And yet-“ He let out a breath. “There are humans who would kill to be you.”
“I left because I wanted to. I know when something has run it’s course.” You told him, slightly accusatory in tone as he hummed in thought.
“And here you are.” He began to laugh, clasping his hands together as the cuffs jangled from the movement. “Still latching on to The Doctor. Hoping that maybe things will go back to the way they were… But now… There’s Yaz.” He was trying to get under your skin. “Yasmin Khan, the bravest human of them all…” He taunted as you held your ground, simply blinking at him. “If I had empathy I would say it’s endearing…”
“Empathy?” You repeated, narrowing your eyes as you took a step closer to the cell. “See… I think you do.” You raised your chin a little. “Somewhere inside… Buried beneath all that anger… I can see it.” The Master kept your gaze as he stayed silent, keeping his lips in a tight line. “You don’t want this. Not really. But it’s the only way you know how to cope…” Suddenly, he lurched forwards, his fists banging on the bars as you jumped slightly. He almost snarled at you, but instead chose to grin.
“You know nothing.” He spoke lowly. “Oh, dear little (Y/N)…” He softened his gaze. “Can you hear that?” He turned his head slightly as you looked confused. However, suddenly an explosion was heard down the hall, with sounds of pain and shooting. “I believe that’s the cavalry…”
And that’s how you ended up in 1916 Russia… With The Master and The Doctor. Both in glass chambers as The Master began to execute his plan. You watched, feeling helpless as you didn’t know what to do.
“Forced regeneration, Doctor. To force you... to regenerate... into me.” The Master declared as The Doctor looked panicked, shaking her head.
“You wouldn’t.” She wavered, fear evident in her eyes.
“Master, stop!” You tried, stepping towards his glass chamber. “You don’t have to do this- If you want to be The Doctor, you don’t have to do it this way!” You cried, but he just stared at you, wide eyed as he manically grinned, before suddenly a familiar regeneration light appeared causing you to squint, covering your eyes and step back. Both of the Timelords yelled, as they felt excruciating pain erupt from within.
“Doctor!” You called, hearing the sound of the TARDIS, beginning to materialise. After a moment, the light disappeared, as you looked to see The Masters old body slumped in the glass chamber, your eyes travelled to where The Doctor was stood, as you saw someone kneeling, rushing to them, opening the chamber as you leant down, praying it was The Doctor… Somewhere inside…
“It worked.”
You felt your heart stop at the voice, as they lifted their head, slowly standing as you took a step back, seeing it was The Master… In place of The Doctor…
“I am… The Doctor.” He breathed out, voice wavering slightly as you looked at him in shock.
The TARDIS finally landed, as the doors flew open, revealing Yaz as she looked at the two of you in shock and anger.
“Where’s The Doctor?!” She exclaimed, as The Master smirked, turning to face her.
“Oh, hello Yasmin Khan.” He greeted her as she scowled, stepping towards him.
“My Doctor.” She reiterated. “Where is she?” You swallowed the lump in your throat.
“She-“ You began. “She’s gone, Yaz.” You breathed out as she shook her head in denial.
“Gone. Really gone.” The Master continued. “Forever gone. Don't...don't worry. You'll get used to me.” He told her, as he walked towards the TARDIS, taking a half step inside as he turned back to face you both. “Everyone will. I still need a companion to ask and... bask in my brilliance.” He raised a brow, eyes shifting between the two of you. “Come on, you two. Let's go on an adventure!” He clapped his hands together, but neither of you moved, as he lowly added: “Don't make me ask twice. I'd hate to have to bring you down to size.”
You flared your nostrils before walking towards him, as Yaz frowned, grabbing your arm, stopping you.
“What are you doing?” She asked, eyes wide.
“If he wants a companion… I’ll give him a companion.” You uttered lowly, gently pulling your arm away from her as you headed towards the entrance of the ship, sending Yaz a glance that said ‘come on’.
“Good choice.” He smirked as he entered the ship, both of you following behind. “Now… Where do we want to go?!” He rushed to the console. “Come on! Let's save a civilisation! Let's correct history! Rescue a sick animal!” He grinned, as he reached out, the TARDIS seemingly zapping him as he recoiled. “Ow! What was that?! Some sort of dirty protest? Unless you want to be consigned down a black hole for eternity, you'd better behave!” He threatened. “I am the Doctor, and you will obey me.”
“Then act like The Doctor.”
The Master paused, narrowing his eyes as he turned on the spot to see you stood defiantly at the bottom of the stairs of the console.
“If you want to be The Doctor so bad… Then start acting like her.” You continued as Yaz looked worriedly at you. The Master laughed slightly at your words, shaking his head.
“I’m sorry-“ He began. “What do you want from me? Longing gazes from across the room-“ He looked at Yaz. “Gentle touches, hand holding… Telling you everything is going to be ok because I’m going to save the day…” He slowly began to approach you. “Or what about keeping secrets? How about we start there… Containing a rage so deep in my hearts that it bubbles-“ He gestured with his hands. “To the surface every now and again… You’ve seen it. You both have.” Yaz stayed quiet, watching your interaction with the Timelord. “It’s time to accept it… I am the Doctor now.” He leant forwards, his face inches from your own. “I… am… The Doctor.”
He pushed himself back, shaking his head as he grew irritated.
“I need clothes. Try to escape or touch anything, I will kill you both.”
You watched as he left, leaving you and Yaz alone as she let out a panicked breath.
“What are we going to do?” She asked, as you narrowed your eyes, before turning to her.
“Did you hear what he said?” You asked quietly, as she furrowed her brows. “Oh Yaz… This runs deeper than The Doctor…”
When The Master returned, he was dressed in multiple different things from each Doctor, which weirdly gave him a less menacing appearance, but you weren’t daft enough to ignore the fact he could kill you at any second.
He rushed to open the doors, as you both watched, peering from behind him as he revealed two planets at war, fire and explosions emitting from both.
“Oh, lovely. Gold star and a sticker.” He spoke. “That's how you stop two sides warring. Destroy them both.” He explained as a drone suddenly appeared, zoning in on The Master. “Oh, hello. I have a message for all your remaining news viewers. I am the Doctor. And I caused this. See? No-one to stop me now.” You felt a rush of anger flow through you, he was damaging The Doctors name… Yaz obviously felt the same as she launched herself at him, pushing him with a yell out the ship, quickly closing the doors. You looked surprised at the girl, as she ran towards the console.
“We can’t leave him!” You cried. “Whatever he’s done, we need him there to reverse it!” She didn’t listen as she began to press buttons on the console. You sighed, peering back at the doors.
“I’m gonna regret this.” You muttered under your breath, as you turned on your heel, rushing to the doors as you opened them, Yaz calling after you, as the TARDIS began to make a familiar wheezing as it disappeared.
You stood, stranded on the planet, with the Master who was currently sat on the edge of a cliff, playing a flute. He had his back turned to you, as you slowly approached. He didn’t turn to look, as you hesitatingly sat next to him, staring out at the view as you stayed silent. Finally he stopped playing, as you peered over at him, raised brow.
“Where’d you learn to play that?” You asked, breaking the tension.
“When you’re thousands of years old, you pick up a hobby or two.” He simply responded as you nodded slowly.
“Never could get it.” You shrugged, still staring out. “Was forced to learn the recorder in school. Was rubbish at it.” You laughed lightly. “But you win some you lose some.”
“Why did you stay?”
You licked your lips as you shrugged, clearing your throat.
“I was bored.”
He furrowed his brows as he finally turned to face you.
“Plus, haven’t been to a mushroom planet before.” You added, gesturing to the giant mushrooms. “Thought there may be some fun-guys around.” You said as the man beside you raised a brow.
“Did you just make a mushroom joke?” He asked, confused.
“Yes, yes I did.” You nodded proudly as you laughed lightly. “I’ve been told I use humour to cope.”
“I erased The Doctor… And you’re sat here with me… Why?” He looked at you suspiciously. “I’m assuming her other little pet is off trying to scramble for help, why aren’t you with her?”
“Because I can see when someone is struggling.” You told him sternly. “And Master, I think you are struggling…”
After what felt like hours, the TARDIS finally reappeared as you both got up from your seated positions, as he cracked his neck, stalking towards the ship with you behind. As the doors opened, you saw Yaz stood at the console.
“I’m sorry.” She spoke as you looked at her. The Master narrowed his eyes.
“Are you? Truly?” He asked as she forced a small smile.
“Came back, didn’t I?” She retorted as he seemed content with her answer. He walked round the console as he looked at both of you.
“We could have fun, you know? I am fun. Different type of fun, but fun.” He explained, as you watched him intently. “We could travel. You'll see.” He wore a small smile as he began to press buttons. You shared a look with Yaz as she gave you a subtle nod, letting you know she had a plan.
Eventually the ship landed, as The Master approached the doors, opening them wide to reveal you were back where you had started, seeing Cybermen… No, Cybermasters stood around.
“Ah, thank you for waiting, my precious fam. And now it's time to kill... everyone. Unleash the volcanoes.” The Master declared as you stood in thought.
‘I still need a companion to ask…’
‘We could have fun. We could travel.’
‘My precious fam.’
“Tectonic disruption in progress. Volcanic eruptions increasing across the surface of planet Earth.”
The Cybermaster informed The Master as he grinned in delight.
“Stop!” You called out, the Master turning to you, eyes narrowed as a hand fell on his hip. “Stop…” You held your hands up in surrender. “You don’t have to do this.” You said quietly. “I know what you want.” You gave him a small smile. “And it’s ok-“ Yaz stared at you in confusion, as the Master tried to hold a straight face. “I can come with you.” You offered, as his expression faltered for a second. “If you want…” But before he could answer you were interrupted by someone entering the room, but it wasn’t just anyone…
“What's going on? Who are you?” The Master frowned.
“I'm the Doctor, mate. Who the hell are you?” She responded as The Master growled.
“Shoot her!” He ordered the cybermasters, who openly followed his orders, but the shots quickly went through her.
“So... it was just the genetic material you put into them, was it? Maybe you should have included the brains. Next time, check for signs of a hologram. Schoolboy error. But then you were a rubbish schoolboy, too.” The Hologram Doctor quipped as The Master felt his breath quicken as he felt anger bubbling up. He scowled, turning to you, eyes threatening.
“Was this you?” He accused as you shook your head quickly, as Yaz answered.
“Out-thought by the Doctor. Get in the machine.” Yaz told him, as he narrowed his eyes.
“Or what?”
“You heard her. Quickly.”
A voice came from behind as you saw the familiar face of Vinder, who was holding a gun up at the man.
“If you're a friend of the Doctor's... you aren't going to use that.” The Master challenged as Vinder shoved him, causing the man to grunt.
“I’m freelance.” Vinder said simply as you watched, seeing the Master being shoved into the glass chamber.
“You’re going to let him do this? To your doctor?!” The Master cried at Yaz, who simply shook her head.
“You're not my Doctor! Because you know the greatest strength my Doctor has? She's spent her life gathering friends. She can't help it. And she is loved. Because she taught us to never give up, even if someone steals your very existence.” She exclaimed, as you watched The Masters face drop. You could see the heartbreak in his eyes, the realisation, he would never have what The Doctor did…
“Master-“ You called to him, as he turned his gaze to you. “I meant what I said.” You told him, a small smile on your face. His features softened as he realised what you were saying.
“They're starting. Yaz, over there. We've got to harness their regenerative energy. Right, burst of two seconds, and then link it into that.” The Hologram Doctor told her as you slowly stood back from the chamber, giving the Master a reassuring nod.
Before you knew it, the familiar regeneration light appeared in the two chambers, eventually the light dimmed, revealing The Doctor stood back in front of you all as The Master went back into his own body. After a few moments of silence, Yaz grinned at the woman, as she helped her out of the chamber.
“Hi. What did I miss? What am I wearing?!” The Doctor looked down at her self as she stumbled slightly, Yaz and Vinder holding her up. “Forced regeneration. Forced degeneration. You brought me back! Yaz, you saved my life.” She turned to the girl as you stood on the sidelines, watching the trio as your gaze shifted over to the glass chamber of the Master. He hadn’t moved. You frowned as you approached it, opening the door as you leant down, giving him a gentle shake to try and see if he’d stir.
“Doctor-“ You called over to her, as she turned to see you by her enemy.
“(Y/N)…” She breathed out, frowning as she slowly approached. “What are you doing?”
“He isn’t moving, help me.” You told her as you placed one of your hands behind his back, lifting him to sit up right as The Doctor watched in confusion. “Doctor?” You furrowed your brows as she didn’t move, before she blinked and aided you in bringing him out of the box and onto the floor. You quickly placed your fingers on his wrist, searching for a pulse as you sighed, feeling one. “He’s ok.” You breathed out as The Doctor watched, looking at Yaz for answers.
“He’ll be fine.” The Doctor told you. “Now come on, we need to stop the daleks.” She turned as she began to walk back to the TARDIS, Yaz and Vinder following.
“No.” You shook your head. The three stopped, turning back to look at you as you slowly stood.
“What?” The Doctor frowned.
“You need to stop the Daleks, Doctor. You three.” You told her. “I’m staying.” She took a step towards you as you gave her a small smile.
“You can’t stay. What do you mean stay?” She questioned.
“I can’t leave him.” You said softly. “He needs someone.”
“He doesn’t need anyone, (Y/N)!” She exclaimed. “He doesn’t do companionship, or friends or-“
“Or maybe no one has tried hard enough.” You jabbed a little, as she recoiled back, taken back by your words. “You didn’t hear him… Yaz, you did.” She furrowed her brows at your words. “He just wants a chance to be you.” You sighed. “He reminds me of you y’know…” The Doctor stayed quiet. “When you were full of anger, needed someone to stop you. I was there.” The Doctor swallowed the lump in her throat as Yaz stared at her. “But now you have Yaz…” You gave her a smile. “And, you don’t need me anymore… But maybe he does.”
“I can’t guarantee your safety.” She told you. “He’s not safe.”
“Neither are you.” You said quietly as she sighed, knowing you were right. “Thank you, Doctor… for everything. But it’s time… It’s time I moved on.” She gave you a small nod, sadness on her features as she knew you were right.
“Thank you, (Y/N) (L/N).” She gave a small smile. “Till we see each other again.”
You didn’t know how long you’d sat with The Masters unconscious form for, but groaning brought you back to reality as you looked over to see The Master sitting up. You approached him, as you held out a hand for him. He furrowed his brows, following the hand as he peered up, seeing you.
“What are you still doing here?” He asked, monotone as he contemplated taking your hand.
“I told you. I do believe you owe me some planets.” You gave him a small smile as he frowned for a moment, before taking your hand, accepting your help.
“Where’s The Doctor?” He asked, as his eyes scanned the room.
“Gone.” You told him. “Now, never-mind that…” You began, raising a brow. “You better have a way for us to leave 1916 Russia.”
And now, you were travelling with The Master. He didn’t trust you straight away, suspicious as to why you chose to be with him, why you chose to leave The Doctor for him… But as time went on, he began to learn your intentions were pure and honest. Something he hadn’t experienced in a long time. You allowed him to take you to planets, to see the stars, to experience civilisations… The Master was right, he was a different kind of fun. He would push boundaries on what he could get away with, from stealing important jewels, to defacing ancient relics, and the occasional blowing up of a planet here and there, albeit empty ones, you made sure.
However, eventually he seemed to need those things less and less, and slowly became content with just living and experiencing new things. Having someone with him, gave him a new lease of life. Of course, he had his moments still, there was no easy fix for that. But no matter what, you stood by him, helping him through whatever he was experiencing.
“Why did you chose me?”
The Master asked, standing at his TARDIS’ console, looking at you from across the room. You stared at him as he looked at you expectantly.
“You could’ve gone with The Doctor, even after everything I’ve done… You chose me.” He was analysing you, trying to look for any minor change in your features.
“Because everyone deserves a chance.” You told him simply. “Whilst I disagree with the things you’ve done, you have a chance to change how you do things in the future.” You explained. “Besides…” You cleared your throat. “I always did like a bad boy.” You joked as he let out a breathy laugh.
“You can’t fix me.” He suddenly announced as you stared at him. “I am what I am.”
“I don’t want to fix you.” You told him softly. “That’s not my job. Only you can do that.” You paced round the console, taking slow steps towards him.
“You’re very wise for a human.” He commented as you raised a brow.
“Is that a compliment?” You smirked as he rolled his eyes at you.
“If that’s how you want to take it, dear.” He responded. “You humans are so easy to appease.” He almost purred as it was your turn to roll your eyes.
“Go on then.” You challenged, folding your arms. “Impress me.” He narrowed his eyes as he began to smirk, moving his land to a lever.
“Your wish is my command.”
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lostdreamr-blog1 · 3 years ago
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A Ghost Playing Hangman {J.Seresin} Part 5
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Warnings: anxiety, panic attack, swearing, Hangman being Hangman
Word Count: 1.5k (Short chapter…don’t hate me!!)
Summary: Ghost was one of the most recent graduates from Top Gun quickly making a name for herself. When she gets recalled with the best of the best, she realizes her work is cut out for her if she wants to make the team. And one of her biggest obstacles is a blonde hair pilot with the world’s most annoying smirk. Will she make the team? And if so, at what cost?
A/N: Part 5 is here and part 6 and 7 are being written now! Next few parts will be longer, promise!! Have zero idea how many parts this will have, but I’m enjoying writing this! Thank you all for your feedback and love I got with the last few parts. Excited to keep this series going! 
Part 1  Part 2  Part 3   Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9
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Hangman didn’t know what to do. From the moment those words left her mouth, he knew he fucked up. There was a fine line between harmless banter and low blows, and he knew he flirted with that line often. But this was not something he was prepared for. Doing the only thing he could think of, he sat on the ground next to her and pulled her close. One arm was wrapped around her shoulders and the other grabbed a hand, absently rubbing circles on the back of it.
“You’re okay, darlin’. I’m right here.” He checked her pulse every so often to make sure it was steadily going down, but he could feel her shaking like a leaf. Only one time in his life had he ever felt this type of panic and he vowed to do everything in his power to never be that vulnerable again. Now the thought of potentially causing panic in someone else filled him with guilt.
He waited there, patiently for her to come down from that horrible high, praying no one else wanted to be early. He didn’t care if the others saw him like this, he didn’t want the others to see her at her breaking point. She worked the hardest out of them all and to see her broken like this wouldn’t be good for anyone.
It was something that would haunt him for a long time coming.
You started to become more aware of your surroundings, vaguely aware someone was with you. It had been a while since you’ve had one of these and you can’t say it’s pleasant. Your vision was starting to focus again, and you felt a body holding you close.
“That’s it. Nice even breaths.” Jake Hangman Seresin of all people had to be the one to find you like this. You let out one last deep breath before you broke out of your haze, “This is embarrassing.” Hearing your voice made the man next to you jump and move away some. The sudden lack of contact upset you more than you were willing to admit. You watched as he got up from the ground and sat on the bench in front of you. The look on his face was something you couldn’t quite place. Concerned? Upset? It wasn’t his usual cockiness, so it was hard to decipher.
“Are you feeling better?” Not the words you expected to come out of his mouth. You looked down, not wanting him to see the flush of your cheeks. “Yeah. Thanks.” A heavy breath came from him, causing you to peek up at him.
“When I said what I did that night, I didn’t mean to cause all of this.” His words confused you and you gave him a small head tilt as you tried to place what he was talking about. He came to the realization that you were not following along and explained. “That night you came to chew me out about not communicating I told you that you needed to be better. Then the next day you are out here running laps and running yourself into the ground trying to do exactly what I said.” He ran a hand through his hair, looking up at the ceiling. “When I said to be better, I didn’t mean to run yourself into the ground doing it. Sweetheart, that was the furthest thing on my mind. But when you said you were the reason he was killed, it all clicked and I’m so sorry, Y/N.”
Your heart nearly stopped when he said those last words. You didn’t realize you said what you did during the panic attack, and you could feel the anxiety creeping back in. Clenching and unclenching your fists, you tried to focus on your breathing and where to go from here. A secret you had kept close to you was now threatening to be out in the open. One more thing for someone to use against you.
A hand clasped over yours and you looked up with more tears pooling in your eyes. “You don’t have to tell me what happened. I probably don’t deserve to know, but I am sorry. Hell, I don’t think sorry will ever begin to cover it.”
More surprise at his words and him not pushing to know more. You brushed away the few tears that managed to escape and took a few deep breaths. “Thank you. It’s not your fault though. You didn’t know.” Hangman took his hand back and sat up straight on the bench. “Yeah, well I still feel like a piece of shit.”
That succeeded in putting a smile on your face. “The ever so cocky aviator admits to being a piece of shit. I should’ve had a melt down earlier on if I was going to get this kind of reaction from you.”
He chuckled a bit, still not quite back to his old self. You got off the cold floor and ran a hand through your hair. Before Hangman could see what set you off, you closed your locker door, hiding the picture of the man you failed. “What are you doing here this early?” Changing the subject was the best course of action.
“Rooster had a point, which I will continue to deny if you bring it up, and I thought I would put in the extra work. Can’t have you showing me up.” He offered his signature smirk at the end and that’s when I knew we were past what just happened.
“You wish you could keep up with me. I have so many more hours logged compared to you. You’d be lucky to get to fly with me when I become team leader.” He threw his head back and laughed, causing a small smile to break through.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night, sweetheart.”
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A few looks of surprise were thrown around when the rest of your group saw not only you, but Hangman walk in from the tarmac. Things only confused them more when the two of you were acting nearly friendly with each other.
Phoenix had sat next to you for the briefing and asked in a hush voice, “Did you suffer from a concussion yesterday, because you and Hangman seem to not hate each other.”
You covered up a snort, trying for Maverick to not hear you while he was talking. “He decided not to be an ass today. We will see how long it lasts.”
And it wasn’t a lie. He had every chance to rub your momentary weakness in your face, but instead took the blame that wasn’t his fault. Your mind drifted back to that conversation and realized that he called you by your name for the first time. And of all things to get you excited, it had to be the way it sounded coming out of his mouth. What did you have to do for him to say it again?
“You’re smiling and it’s creepy.” Phoenix broke you out of your ridiculous daydream and you pulled your attention to the front.
“Just thinking about how Hangman feels threated and had to show up early to not get beat in the race for team leader.” It was her time to smile, and you knew you covered yourself well.  
The lightness of the conversation was quickly put to an end when we were told the timetable moved up a week and none of us were ready. For the longest time it felt like we were back in the academy, simply training just to train. The end goal was in the back of all our minds, but it didn’t feel real. Not until now.
We were dismissed for training, and no one was joking around anymore. Even Maverick looked like he was knocked down a peg, with the look of mischief gone from his eyes.
You were nearing your plane when Hangman’s voice stopped you, “Out of all of us, you have the skill to do this. Get out of your head and show them that.” You turned to see him a few steps behind you and nodded your head. “Thanks.” He answered with a wink, and you watched him walk to his plane further down the tarmac. Bradley gave you a questioning look, but you waved him off. He of all people would not approve of what was going on in your head.
Things between the two of you changed this morning and you weren’t entirely sure how you felt about it. Of all the times to get distracted, this was by far the worst. But something about that blond pilot made you feel something you hadn’t felt since that day of the accident. And that was starting to scare you.
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A/N: Thoughts? Comments? I love all your feedback! Part 6 and 7 are in the works currently and I cannot wait to share them with you!! Thanks for reading!
Tag List: @blue-aconite @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @rosiahills22 @dempy @broosters @rebekahjonesx @luckyladycreator2
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hunnythebee · 2 years ago
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Stow Away
Chapter 2: The First Night
Her first night aboard the Razor Crest, and her first time on a planet that isn't Tatooine in a long time. Interacting with the Bounty Hunter is not quite what she had suspected... maybe this won't be so bad.
Warnings: Threats, some cursing, MC being embarrassed easily, Mando being stoic.
Chapter 1 | Chapter 3 | Masterlist
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A/N: I am so amazed at how much love my first chapter got in one week. When I decided to post, I really wasn't expecting anybody to read it. Hopefully you will all enjoy this one and future chapters as well! I look forward to writing for all of you.
“Why didn’t you say anything back on Tatooine? You must have known when you saw me,” her voice was shaking.
He shrugged. “You weren’t one of mine.”
“But you know about the bounty…”
“Yes.”
“And you will turn me in if I don’t cooperate with you?”
“Yes.”
“So you’re holding me hostage.”
“To be fair, you stowed away on my ship.”
“Still!”
“If you want, I could still just collect your bounty anyways,” the holster clicked open.
“On second thought, what have I got to lose?”
“Good answer. There’s a spare cot over there,” he motioned behind him. “Set it up wherever you want. We will be landing on Nevarro soon, so come up to the cockpit when you’re done.” And with that, he left to climb the ladder, taking Grogu with him.
She rushed to the refresher. She felt sick, like the galaxy had flipped upside down and she was falling through the void. She splashed cool water onto her face and stared in the mirror.
“Could be worse…” she told herself with a half-hearted chuckle, “could still be on Tatooine.”
After finding the cot Mando had mentioned, she proceeded back up the ladder into the cockpit. Mando was seated in the pilot seat, and the only other seat was taken by the kid. She walked over to the co-pilot's chair and looked down into his big black eyes. Grogu reached his hands out to her, and her heart melted a little. She obliged, picking him up and taking his seat in return. She fastened her restraint and seated him in her lap. His little hand found the necklaces that dangled from her neck and began twisting and playing with them.
The landing was rough, the Razor Crest being as old as she was, that was no surprise. Mando stood from the pilot seat and headed back down the ladder. She remained in the cockpit for another minute, holding Grogu to her chest and staring out the observation shield. The planet was far from beautiful, covered in ash and dust. Molten lava oozed down nearby cliffs and flowed into rivers that spiderwebbed through the desolate plains. She stared for so long because it wasn’t Tatooine. Tears threatened her cheeks, which she quickly wiped away at.
Once she was back down the ladder, Grogu sitting happily on her hip, she was greeted with the silent stoic presence that was the Mandalorian. He was seated on the edge of his bunk, the door completely open. It was night in Nevarro City, he was probably going to rest before heading out to complete his business. She made her way over to her cot and sat down as well, facing him from several feet away. He stared at her for a moment longer than she was comfortable with and she realized he was probably looking at the kid.
Grogu had fallen asleep, his hand still clasped on her necklace. It was one of her favorites, it being one of the few that she actually had sentimental attachment to, but she unclasped it from her neck and let the chain drape over his nubby fingers. She moved him into his cradle, which was floating near her cot for convenience. She tucked him in, a small smile on her lips, and then turned back to face the Mandalorian. His gaze remained unchanged, fixed on her. It made her feel small, like a tiny creature being preyed upon by a ferocious beast. She stood, grabbed her sack, and locked herself in the refresher.
She hoped taking a shower would pass enough time for Mando to go to sleep, or at the very least go away. The water felt amazing, washing away all the sands of Tatooine. She had never felt cleaner. She hadn’t brought any soaps with her since all the soaps had belonged to Peli, so she made do with what Mando had. She picked up a bar and began to wash herself with it. The aroma filled the refresher. It smelled of incense and spices, like a market she had been to on Naboo. She held the bar to her nose and breathed deeply. The scent made her feel relaxed, which was welcomed right now.
After drying off and changing into fresh clothes, a dark linen tank, and loose pants that cinched at her ankles, she exited. The hold was dark. The only light source was the light shining in from the refresher. The door hissed shut behind her, and she was bathed in pitch black darkness. Unable to see two feet ahead of herself, she tripped and stumbled her way to her bunk. She felt extremely ridiculous when she walked face first into a wall, which was strange because she was certain that there hadn’t been a wall before. Then, the wall grasped her shoulders and turned her away from it.
Not a wall.
Her embarrassment bloomed across her cheeks as she realized she had slammed head first into her new employer. She didn’t realize what he was doing when he started to push forward into the darkness, but she had no choice but to follow his guidance. The movement stops, and she is spun around once again. To face him, she assumed. Her blood pulsed so loud in her ears that it was deafening. His hands moved to her waist, and she was pushed back, falling into the darkness. She had landed square on the foot of her cot. Her eyes must have looked wild, searching the dark for the man that had just guided her. 
“Sleep.” His voice commanded through the dark. 
He blended in so well he could have been a disembodied voice for all she knew, except he had just been touching her, so there was definitely a body. She sighed and crawled into her cot, discovering a blanket on it that had not been there before.
Did he put this here?
She lied back, a sudden wave of exhaustion crashing into her. She pulled the blanket up around her and yawned, feeling sleep coming. The last thing she remembered before drifting off was noting that the blanket smelled the same as the soap, mixed with a slightly more earthy scent.
When she awoke, Mando was already up, that is, if he had slept. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and wrapped the blanket around her shoulders as she stood up. She glanced over at the cradle where Grogu was still fast asleep, her necklace still tangled in his tiny hand. She trailed back over to the Mandalorian, who still had not noticed she was awake. She watched quietly for a moment while he meticulously cleaned his rifle. Then her stomach began to hurt, and she realized she was ravenous. She cleared her throat lightly to alert him of her consciousness. He didn’t turn around to greet her, but he did speak softly.
“Morning.”
“Morning. Did you sleep alri-”
“Didn’t sleep.”
“Oh.” A chill ran down her spine. “Then, um… what did you get up to then?”
“Patrolling.”
“Oh, that… makes sense.”
Silence fell between them as she searched through the cargo for some food, with no luck. Her stomach audibly growled, and she shushed it. Mando caught the interaction and laughed quietly to himself. She didn’t catch it because Grogu was awake. His big eyes peered out from his crib, and he reached out to her, cooing happily. She lifted him up and placed him on her hip.
“Hey there, little guy,” she said to Grogu, “Did you sleep well?”
He giggled while she bounced him lightly.
“Y' hungry?”
His eyes lit up at the mention.
“Me too. Say, do you know where your dad keeps the food hidden?”
The kid kriffing nodded. He could understand her. He pointed in a direction a little ways past the ladder to the cockpit, and she followed his lead. She walked past the Mandalorian, his gaze following her as she moved. Again, she just assumed that it was because he’s protective of the kid. Around the corner was a small galley with a small nanowave stove and a couple of cupboards that should have had food in them, but they were sparse. She still managed to find a few items that she could whip together for something that resembled a meal.
After she finished cooking, she carried two bowls of the stew concoction over to Mando and Grogu. Grogu’s eyes lit up with joy, and he dove straight in. Mando, on the other hand, just stared at the bowl. She left, returned with a bowl of her own, and perched on a nearby crate as she ate.
“What’re you waiting for?” She asked, mouth half-full
“I didn’t ask for any.”
“I just thought you might be hungry. If you don’t want it I can always just throw it back in the pot it’s not a both-”
“No!” He snapped, catching her offguard. “I mean… No… It’s just I can’t.”
She’s confused now. “What do you mean ‘can’t’? It’s just food for maker's sake.”
“It’s not that. I can’t show my face.”
“Oh… and you kind of need your mouth to be able to eat.”
He was silent.
“Why didn’t you say so in the first place?” She said, standing from her spot and grabbing Grogu from his place next to Mando, his bowl having been licked clean already. She settled back down on the crate she had previously been on, this time with her back to the Mandalorian. “Better?” She asked over her shoulder.
“Yes, but–”
“Shut up and eat bucket-head.”
The interruption took him by surprise. Her boldness was starting to show despite the fact that he had threatened her life last night. He quietly admired this, vowing she would never know that. He lifted his helmet up, keeping it balanced on his head, and ate the stew.
“Y’know Mando,” she spoke up again, keeping her back turned, “You have very little food. I was thinking of going to the market here to pick up more.”
“No.” His voice is unmasked, unfiltered. She wasn’t expecting it to sound so smooth.
“So what? You’re really gonna keep me on this ship forever?” She said, her voice bordering on aggressive.
“I didn’t say that.”
“Then why?”
“Because,” his voice was masked again, “Too many Bounty Hunters here.”
“Oh.”
“You will need to hide.”
“What?!”
“Unless you want to get caught. Karga will send his men to retrieve the bounties from the storage. You need to make yourself invisible.”
“Got it. Invisible. I can do that.”
He laughed, which sounded foreign coming from him. “Sure.”
“Hey! It’s not like this ship has a lot of options.”
He didn’t say anything in response. Instead, he just stood and collected the bowls, grabbing hers as well and taking them back to the galley.
Chapter 1 | Chapter 3 | Masterlist
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buckybarnesdiaries · 4 years ago
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a place called home
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© credits to the author, i found it on google. if you own it, send me a message to add your @.
bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.
Request by @dora-wolfram-blog: Hi <3 so happy to see your requests are open! How about ex Avenger reader who can manipulate the forces of nature and she comes to help Sam? (Idk maybe calling fish from the sea so his family can sell and earn enough money for the boat?) There she meets Bucky who she briefly met after endgame and they get to know each other? Domestic stuff is my weak spot so thank you so much luv u <3
word count: 1.206 words.
warnings/tags: none. bucky being a gentleman and sam a pain in the ass as always.
author notes: none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.
Join the tag list here.
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Saying that Bucky and you were friends wasn’t something exactly. You fought together a couple of times before you retired from superhero life. Like many of them, the war had finished and you chose calm over being a private agent. More or less like the ex-soldier, with the difference that he went to New York and you didn’t be able to find a home until Sam made you a call. He was quite the opposite of Bucky for you, connecting since the very first second you met. After he told you about his sister’s financial trouble, he offered you a roof to sleep under in exchange for your powers to control the tide and promote the movement of fish stocks. Of course, it was a hit, and you finally found peace in Delacroix. A celebration was inevitable, it was part of Wilsons’ DNA, but you weren’t expecting Bucky to show up with Sam; although he told you in your last call that they were working together. Or something like that.
As soon as your eyes laid on him among the crowd, you knew he had changed after more than six months without seeing each other. You couldn't help but feel happy for Bucky when you saw him smiling for the first time. He had a beautiful and innocent smile, seeming like a new man. Renovated, with want to live, enjoying playing with kids and talking to old men about war stories.
You had placed your back against an oak column, away from the crowd but close enough to check on everyone, in case they need help with anything. A beer was resting against your lips, doubting on continuing drinking, lost in your thoughts. There was something about Bucky going from one side to another, laughing unworried, that had fully captivated your attention. You weren't able to stop looking at him, chuckling when you saw one of Sam's nieces putting a magnet with the form of a crab on his left arm.
“I have that teen-in-love's face on camera”.
You frowned at Redwing some inches away from your face. As a response, you tried to slap it down. But your friend was faster than you controlling that thing.
“He looks good, uh?”
“Oh, shut up…” You replied by clicking your tongue and rolling your eyes, having a sip from your drink to put your eyes away to the sea.
“He asked if you'd be here… Just saying”.
“Shut up, Samuel!” You implored, rubbing the bridge of your nose.
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As the night went on and the guests started to leave, Sarah asked you to take Jim and Jody home while she stayed there cleaning with his brother about the business. You were exhausted too, and she noticed it. And after saying your goodbyes, you headed to the parking where your car was stationed, carrying the younger Wilson onto your arms —peacefully sleeping— as his big brother was yawning loudly. At that point, you realized that it was going to be a tough mission to put them in the car.
“Wait! Lemme help”.
The male voice coming from behind you made you turn around and before you could react, Bucky was taking Jody from your arms to his. You smirked softly in response, looking for the key in the right pocket of your jacket to unlock the car. The soldier tucked the younger in the back seat, placing the belt around him as Jim occupied the other side of the SUV.
“It's been good to see you”. You said after closing the door, staying outside in front of him.
“Same”. He replied, not knowing what else to say.
Puckering your lips and clapping the key on your palm, you nodded with your chin, feeling the nerves running through your veins. “Good night, Bucky”.
“Good night, (Y/N)”.
You gave him your back, sighing inappreciably, to open the pilot's place and came in.
“He— Hey, wait”.
“Uh?”
“Sam told me… you were tired. I might give you a ride back home. I can wait for him there”. The offering made you glance towards him, already sitting in your car but with a leg rest on the ground. “If you want, I mean…”
Of course he did (...). That son of a bitch had the audacity to push you onto the other. You bit your inner cheek, landing your eyes on the wheel. Yes, you were tired. You woke up at five to sail with Sarah, then you organized the party and cooked for it. You hadn't had a single second of rest during the whole day. And Sam took advantage of it, feeling like he was some kind of Cupido. And you had to recognize that it was also very considerate coming from Bucky.
“I'd appreciate it… actually”. You ended up agreeing, stepping out to give him the keys and ceding your seat.
The ride was silent between the two of you, hearing some quiet indie music playing on the radio while you fought against your brain to stay awake. Luckily, it didn't take him too long to reach Sarah's house —although you were barely keeping your eyes open at this point. Again, he helped you with the kids, walking indoors and following you to their respective rooms. You tucked Jim and Jody on their beds, making sure they were comfy before placing a kiss on their foreheads and wishing them a good night. Bucky had rested his back against the wall, in front of the elder’s room, just waiting for you. And you could swear that you saw him briefly smirking because of the tenderness in your actions.
After closing the last door, you waved your head to urge him to follow you downstairs to the living room. With an exhausted sigh escaping your lips, you let your body fall on the sofa, curling on a side of it to give Bucky some space. You couldn’t help but yawn, turning on the TV by using the control remote.
“It’s good to have a home to come back”.
“Yeah… After all the shitty situations we’ve been through… We deserved a rest, don’t you think?” You replied grabbing a cushion from the floor, using it as a pillow over the armrest. “Sorry, I… I’m deadly tired…”
“Come here, that will hurt when you wake up”.
Bucky didn’t hesitate on beckoning to his arms, taking off his boots heel against heel to place both legs over the coffee table. You didn’t resist, knowing it would be comfier by his way. Sitting up, you lied to the opposite side, being wrapped instantly and snuggled against his warm body. Shameless, you rest your head on his right forearm, practically laying over his lap. But you felt good. You felt like it was a good reward after a long day, rolling down your eyelids and focusing on the caresses in your hair you didn’t know you needed.
For a moment, your mind wandered and fantasized about this last hour being part of your real life. Putting your kids to sleep and then cuddle with your husband till falling asleep. Smell Bucky’s strong and edgy scent. Your hands scratching his back. His fingertips stroking your scalp. Your legs laced (...)
Oh, God, Sam. What did you do?
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light-yaers · 4 years ago
Text
Sweet Escape: Chapter Seven
Poe Dameron x Reader
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Warnings: banterous flirting that may or may not crack your teeth, slight injury, alcohol, and OSCAR FUCKIN ISAAC
A/N: Honestly this is a bit of a filler, but I was having too much fun writing Poe and her's interactions that I simply couldn't stop. I didn't want to have such a large chapter, so I stuck with this little filler just for funzies. They do be getting closer doe....
Find the Masterpost here
Word Count - 2.5k
Chapter Seven: Blush
The first feeling upon gaining consciousness was ouch. Even opening your eyes made your muscles throb. The slow realisation that you were in the base’s med-bay, lying in a bed, came to you in waves. First, you let out an internal groan. Then, you let out an actual groan, as you tried to hoist yourself up to a sitting position.
Your body objected, rushing your limbs with an aching sort of pain that felt like you’d been training for 48 straight hours, but nevertheless you managed to sit up. The bay was quiet and collected, like a library, and only a few beds were actually occupied.
You felt her before you even saw her—Leia strolled round the corner then, eyes fixing upon you instantly. She gave you immediate comfort, despite your internal bruising and the anxiety that had started to bubble within your gut when you thought about what you’d just done.
The cat was out of the hypothetical bag. Your Force abilities weren’t just known now; you’d given the base an entire fucking demonstration. Brilliant.
“That was quite a show,” Leia said as she approached your bedside. You gave her a tired and half-hearted smile. “Thank you,” she added, and the seriousness in her voice was apparent. You nodded at her in response, not yet knowing what you could even say.
There was a silence that radiated from her—an intelligent and knowing quiet that told you all you needed to know; if you hadn’t of done what you did, many would have died. The base would have been all but destroyed.
“Are you okay?” she asked then, trickling her kind words over you softly.
“I feel like I’ve been punched all over my body, repeatedly,” you let out. A small scoff burst from her lips.
“I understand. The Force takes a lot out of you,”
“You could say that again,” you replied, testing out the movement of your arms. You stretched them out slowly, and your elbows clicked noisily. “Is everyone okay?”
“Some are more shaken up than others, but everyone’s just fine. Thanks to you,” Leia said, raising her brows at you in understanding. “Dameron’s waiting outside,” she added, causing you to whip your gaze to her suddenly. You let out a groan in pain as you brought a hand to rest on your stiff neck.
“Dameron?” you winced. Leia only nodded.
“I’ve never seen him be so proactive. He carried you here after you collapsed,”
You looked to your lap, overcome by a feeling half-way between wanting to vomit, and wanting to smile. Sure, you’d just revealed your gift and saved the damn Resistance, but you’d fainted afterwards—embarrassment wasn’t something that you dealt with well, as much as you shouldn’t have cared.
“Great,” you whispered to yourself. Leia let out another comforting chuckle, before placing a reassuring and gentle hand on your shoulder. You looked at her then, not even trying to cover up the absolute fear and anxiety on your face. Leia could feel your Force; she would have known your true feelings even if you had the strength to try and hide it from your expression.
“Shall I tell him to come back later?” she asked, but you were already shaking your head.
“No, no. He can see me,” the confidence in your tone was more prominent than you’d expected it to be, but maybe it was because it was him. It wasn’t Heidi or Lynx, who, as much as you liked them, were still closed books. Poe, though—
You already shared a room. What was one more?
Leia left after giving you a small nod. You took the few seconds it took her to leave the med-bay to mentally prepare yourself. You needed a nap, or ten naps, and you needed to keep it together. You’d never used your Force this way, nor had you been expecting to. The entire situation was a lot to take in.
But everyone was fine. You were fine. And that’s all that mattered.
Poe bound in before you could even slide yourself up the bed to lean against the wall. The first thing you noted about him was his expression; it wasn’t what you’d been expecting. His eyes were wide, his brow dotted with sweat, his shoulders hunched and tense and rigid. Maker forbid, the pilot was scared.
He grabbed a chair on his way over and sat down on it immediately, tucking himself in next to your bed as you fumbled with sitting.
“I’m fine, Dameron,” you said, as an involuntary chuckle escaped your lips.
“You sure?” he questioned, just double-checking. You nodded at him firmly, and then he visibly relaxed. He let out a large sigh of relief, leaning back in his chair and wiping his forehead with the sleeve of his jacket. “Had us worried there,”
“Had you worried,” you replied, shooting him a smile. It felt good.
“Hey, you’re the one that blacked the fuck out,” he let out, and you bit on your tongue as a wave of anxiety rushed through your gut. Dameron’s demeanour changed then, as an understanding settled onto his face. “Why didn’t you tell me you could use the Force?”
You swallowed uncomfortably, knowing that he’d obviously have questions. “Don’t take it personally. I haven’t told anyone before,”
“Why?” he repeated, looking at you with those big pretty boy eyes and delving deep into your damn soul. You didn’t realise just how hard it would be, being put in this position, but it was your own doing. You’d chosen to act.
“It was always easier to keep it a secret, okay? I wasn’t planning to ever use it in front of any of you, but—,” the breath hitched in the back of your throat as the image of the hurtling TIE hit your mind.
“The TIE followed Green-Two through hyperspace. It got hit and entered the atmosphere,” Poe explained. “They didn’t have time to realise what was happening and destroy it from the sky,”
“Yeah,” you replied, feeling overexposed and vulnerable and all of the feelings that you hated.
Your brain pelted thoughts at you then, as you tried to keep it together. It told you that everyone would look at you differently, even though you were all fighting for the same thing. It told you that you’d only become the brunt of another joke, that everything you despised about cadet life like this would be all-encompassing.
It told you that pilots would look at you like you had an unfair advantage; like you didn’t work to become as skilled as you were. It told you that Poe would think the same.
You fiddled with your fingers as Poe’s stare stayed glue to the side of your face. You didn’t want him to see that you were almost trembling, so you sucked it up. You forced yourself to perk up, to put on a blunt face, to ignore how close to screaming you were.
“I understand if you choose to take me off Black squadron,” you said plainly. Poe’s expression changed quicker than you could blink.
“Why the hell would I take you off my squad?” he replied. His squad.
“Unfair advantage and all that shit. Like I cheated or something,” you replied. Poe shifted in his chair and clenched his jaw.
“Did you use the Force on rank day?” he asked plainly. You immediately furrowed your brows at him, slightly angry.
“Fuck no. I don’t use it when piloting. I never usually use it—,”
“Then why the fuck would you take you off my squad, Ten?” he repeated, sterner this time. You let his words sink through your skin as you focused on calming your raging emotions. You were torn between kicking a wall, throwing a chair or crying on the floor like a baby. All three options sounded appealing to you.
“Even if you did use the Force to fly, I wouldn’t change your rank,” he added. “You’re a fucking good pilot. That shit can’t be learned just because you possess the Force. Unfair advantage my ass, Ten,”
The blush crept into your cheeks before you had the chance to look away. Poe’s lips curled into a small smirk—his most punchable expression. You had to speak away the tension before it consumed you.
“Can you go back to teasing me or horrendously hitting on me, now? All this mushy stuff is insufferable. It’s not like I fucking died,” you let out, trying to subvert his gaze away from your blotched cheeks. This was the second time the pilot had made you blush today—you didn’t want it to become a fucking daily occurrence.
You froze when Poe’s fingers reached out and touched your face. Your stare was upon him in an instant, watching the gentle way his eyes looked from cheek to cheek.
“I call you a good pilot once and you start blushing, huh?” he said lowly, sensually.
He was doing it on fucking purpose.
The redness of your face immediately elevated, but you’d grabbed his wrist and twisted his arm within seconds of taking in his words. He yelped in pain as you twisted his arm over the bed, causing him to stand from the chair and lean forward as you jerked him painfully.
That’s when you grabbed him by the collar, pulling his face close to your own and shooting him with a stare that only communicated one thing—death.
“If you want to keep this pretty boy face then I suggest you tread carefully, Dameron,” you said unapologetically, ignoring the pain in your limbs. Poe started to relax more now that your grip wasn’t on his arm. Hell, maybe he fucking enjoyed being threatened this way, because the smirk didn’t wipe off of his face at all.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re hot when you’re angry?” he said it as clear as day with no hesitation.
You dropped him immediately, causing his upper body to whack onto the mattress and spring back into his chair. He fell back into the chair and almost twisted onto the floor, but he regained his balance as chuckles fell from his lips boyishly. “Hey, you asked for this,” he said, raising his arms defensively at the unamused look on your face.
You pinched the bridge of your nose quickly, clamping your eyes shut as the hammering heartbeat beneath your ribs all but consumed you. “You—you—,”
“I really rile you up, don’t I?” Poe cut you off, crossing his arms smugly as you started to calm down slightly. You composed yourself as best as you could, not removing your angry stare from his pretty boy face. He thrived off of this, that much was certain. But it was true—you had just asked for it.
You just hadn’t expected reacting this way when your guards weren’t all the way up. There was something about being here with Poe, alone, after knowing that he’d been the one to place you on this bed himself, that hit you harder than you’d ever fucking admit.
These weeks hadn’t exactly been easy; being in the Resistance was literally the hardest job in the galaxy; but Poe had been a constant that you were only now realising. He was there when you went to bed, he was there when you woke up. His smug face was there whenever the subject of sex arose, or whenever he was ready to push your buttons, but his anger and rage was there whenever someone crossed you, as well.
Maker, it was almost like he cared.
And you weren’t used to that. You weren’t used to that at all.
Apparently, all of your thoughts had just made themselves known through your face, as Poe let out a soft scoff, eating up your expression.
“I’ll take that as a yes. What can I say? There’s no one like me,” he spoke so easily, so happily and upbeat. You could tell he was just trying to tease you more, but he was right.
“There is no one like you,” you repeated his words, jaw clenched. It wasn’t a compliment, and he knew that.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Poe said, waving his hand in the air. He leaned forward then, perking a brow at you questioningly, overly confident to the point that you were almost jealous of how open he was. “Does this mean there’s a tiny, minuscule, microscopic part of you that actually likes me?”
You rolled your eyes immediately, as you began to twist your legs to dangle over the side of the mattress. You placed your feet on the floor gently, applying pressure to them to see if you could stand.
Poe stood quickly, pushing back the chair as he got out of your way. You stood, leaning against the bed for subtle support, but other than the aches and internal bruises in your muscles, you were just fine.
“Don’t hold your breath, Dameron,” you said, as you started to stroll towards the med-bay exit. Dameron was at your side, cautiously staying close while also somehow keeping his distance. He was hyper-vigilant to make sure you weren’t about to fall.
When you both reached the door, Poe gently took hold of your forearm. All prior playfulness was gone from his face. “Thank you, for stopping the TIE. A crash like that... it would have ruined us,” he said sincerely.
“We’re all fighting for the same thing,” you replied. “I’m glad I could be of service,”
He smiled at you genuinely, and you couldn’t stop the warm feeling in your gut from spreading all over your body. As much as he teased and toyed and you had this back and forth; somewhere between hatred and likeness and flirting and fighting; you were both fighting the same war, performing the same jobs, living the same life.
He nodded once, before the two of you made your way down the corridor slowly. He stayed at your pace, not complaining as you got used to your creaky and stiff limbs or winced at the way your body pulsed with every step.
“So, no chance of a beer tonight, then?” he spoke up, perking a brow at you. You perked one back at him as an unexpected smirk curled onto your lips.
“I exposed my Force abilities, moved a crashing TIE with my mind and blacked the fuck out today. I think I’ll take a fucking beer,” you said. Poe chuckled to himself and you couldn’t help it when you joined him.
Slowly, he brought his arm to wrap around your shoulders. He shoved you into his chest playfully, just once, before gently pushing you back and removing his grip from you. “That’s what I wanted to hear,”
You and Dameron headed for the dorm together, shoulders often swiping against each other. Tension still hovered in the air, but it was as if both of you were slowly getting used to it. Maybe that was something that should have been scary to you, but when your Force wrapped itself around Poe when you both entered your dorm, exposing the gentle and fond way he was thinking of you—
All you felt was peace.
@foxilayde @onceuponathreetwoone @ecuadorlady @voidmalfoy @20th-centu-fairy-girl @frickfrackpattywhacktictac @baueoud @300nightmare003 @lilitrth @salome-c @youre-a-wallflower-charlie
I know this chapter is a bit short, but when I tell you big these are coming then please believe me.... get ready. <3
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starfirette · 4 years ago
Note
Ok but Helena Bertinelli x fem!reader where Helena takes all her pent up anger out on reader thru sex and she just tops the FUCK out of R and it’s super hot and R lowkey loves when Helena gets angry when it leads to steamy sex👀 oof I need a MINUUUTE😫
a/n: this is very smutty. it is more emotionally angry, and y/n more takes her anger out on helena, BUT i think it's good. .......i think?? | 18+
masterlist | more helena | inbox | ships + requests open
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Every single piece of furniture was toppled over.
The fine china that you’d once had shelved on display littered the floor in ground little pieces.
It was a shocking scene to say the least, especially when you were expecting to walk through the door and take an instant nap.
After being in Moscow for the week, both you and Helena had been looking forward to coming back to the shared Alaska home high up in the mountains.
As you stared around in a state of shock, Helena pulled you by the waist. It was as though she wanted to shield you from the destruction that laid before your eyes.
You weren’t naive. At least, not too naive. You could recognize what was going on.
The last time something similar happened was three years ago. At that time, you and Helena had recently been married. It was the threats and destruction that followed Helena which caused her to leave Gotham with you in tow. Together, you traveled halfway across the across the country, in search for a haven that would protect you from Helena’s enemies.
But they’d found you. Again.
“Get your coat,” Helena instructed as she pushed you towards the foyer. 
“But-”
“Get your coat, now, Y/n,” she snapped again, not bothering to look at you. 
You felt oddly embarrassed by the way your wife had spoken to you. You mustered a submissive nod as you hurried to pull on the coat you’d just taken off.
Helena’s angry, Italian cursing bounced off the walls as she turned through the house, her shoes crunching over glass. She spoke with someone in the phone. Her words were fast and icy. She rarely spoke in Italian, but you’d been with her long enough to learn some of the lingo.  She spoke about a safe house and about a rabbit--
Maybe rabbit wasn’t the right word. 
But you’re positive it’s something about a safehouse. 
You waited in the foyer, shivering in the heavy coat you wore despite the warmth it was generating. 
Helena came rushing to you after her phone conversation ended. “We’re getting back in the car,” she instructed you, using her hands to physically turn you back to face the door. 
“Wait, what’s going on?” you asked, feeling dumb as she snatched a random sweater from the coat closet. 
“We’ve been found, so we’re leaving,” Helena said again, slowing her words as if she was trying to dumb it down for you. She put her arm around your waist, ushering you out of the house and carefully down the snowy pathway that led to your driveway. The fresh powdered snow had two sets of footprints, your own and Helena’s. You didn’t see any others, nothing that would have alerted you to thinking someone had broken in. 
Your face burned with warmth as Helena buckle you into the passenger seat. You don’t like being babied by her. You were tempted to bitch about the way she was treating you, but you knew better. At least, right now. You try to remember she’s in a panic, and she’s running on auto pilot. 
The car raced down the long driveway that wrapped in a spiral down the mini mountain. 
Your heart thumped in your throat as she sped away from the house. You clutched into your seatbelt, letting it dig into your palms. “Slow down,” you finally blurted out.
Helena grunted in response. Her foot reluctantly pumped the break.  
You know she doesn’t like to be told to slow down, or to relax, or to be safe. Even so, Helena knows you don’t like when she drives to fast, or goes into a rage, or puts her safety on the line. 
The drive was silent as she expertly navigated some snowy backroads. You wanted to talk to her, maybe even distract her from whatever was boiling in her brain. She didn’t explain what was happening. You were left to your own devices. You could only assume she was taking you to one of her safe checkpoints in Cordova. That had been ingrained into to your mind; Cordova is safe. If anything happens, go to Cordova and call someone, whether it be Harley or one of Helena’s contacts in Italy.
You slumped down your seat, shifting all of your body to lean against your door, your head against the window. "I love you," you muttered.
Helena didn't say anything.
The underground house in Cordova spans 500 square feet. It's nothing fancy. It's more of a basic studio flat than a house, really, with a very well structured lay out. The kitchen consisted of a two burner stove and an old fashioned ice box. On that same note, the given bedroom was really just a queen size mattress on the floor, shoved in a corner against the north eastern wall. It had a pile of new pillows, still wrapped in their Macy's store liners.
You dropped your coat on the little coffee table in the dead center of the room. It faced an outdated, but thorough, television set, with a boxy TV and VHS player. Stacks of worn VHS tapes and magazines were laced neatly on the little coffee table, alongside the clunky television remote.
A single door was on the western wall, and you assumed it led to the bathroom.
You pried off your shoes as Helena closed the heavy vault door, turning all of the metal spires so the locks clicked, leaving only you and her within the room.
It was a heavy silence for a couple minutes. Helena didn't do anything but stand, staring intensely at the vaulted door, as if it was responsible for destroying your mountain top mansion.
You curled into the bed. The quilts had the consistency of hotel blankets, thin and flimsy, allowing all the cold air to pass through the threads.
The side of the bed sank when Helena sat down, her long legs bent at the knees awkwardly. Her hand placed softly on your back, which was huddled in the corner of the bed, pulled over with the quilts.
"Are you okay?" Helena asked. Her voice was hard. She sounded as if she were in a great deal of pain.
You rolled over. You faced your own wall, turning your back on her. When you did not answer, Helena asked again. "Don't ignore me," she snapped.
You jerked upright.
Helena looked momentarily surprised, as if she'd watched a corpse rise from his grave. You stared at her with wide, angry eyes.
"Don’t even start,” you snapped, holding up a finger to stop whatever words Helena was about to start blabbering out.
"You're not allowed to speak to me any way you want, any time you want," you added with a jab of your finger. You scrambled to leave the bed, tripping over the bedding as you clumsily plunged out of her reach.
"I understand that you're stressed," you said, trying to control the volume at which you spoke. "But you always take it out on me. You always make me feel like the world's going to end."
Helena pinched her nose, bending so her elbows rested on her knees. She looked stressed, just so stressed, just about as stressed as you were feeling, but maybe less angry and shaky. "This is serious, Y/n," she said slowly, as if she didn't think you would have understood her otherwise.
"Even so, we have to keep our wits about us. We have to keep our relationship steady, otherwise we're just going to fall apart and fail. This relationship will not last. It will not last. We are always going to be chased by these troubles, by your enemies. I think I could handle it if we didn't get into massive fucking fights every time it happened. It feels like I'm a kid again, watching my parents go back and forth, staying together 'for us kids', when it's pretty clear that divorce would just be better for all of us."
Helena by now had released her face. She had a blank expression as she stared at you.
"I'm sorry," she finally said.
You couldn't muster much energy, so you shrugged and collapsed on the little sofa. "I don't care anymore," you muttered. "I just want water. I want to sleep."
Helena ran to your side. She knelt at your feet, quite literally on her hands and knees for you. She braced her hands on your thighs. "How can I make it up to you?"
You stared down at her, unsure of what to say.
"I cannot lose you," she said next. "There wouldn't be a reason to have such safehouses like this if I lost you."
"I cannot handle these fights anymore. It's too much."
"What can I do?"
"I just want to sleep," you sighed. "I'd rather just...listen to the television."
Helena led you to the bed, straightening out the mess you'd made when you'd trampled out of it. You shimmied out of your pants, throwing them out so you could sleep comfortably.
"Please just talk to me," Helena begged as she laid behind you. She wrapped her arms around you tenderly, your back pressed against her chest. "I'm just tired, Helena," you sighed as you let your eyes fall shut.
Helena dragged her hand up the stomach of your shirt, her calloused palm tucking close against your belly.
"I'm tired," you whispered.
Her fingers slipped beneath the band of your underwear. Her palm cupped your warmth, her lips pressing soothing kisses behind your ear.
She did not tease that night. She swept two finger tips into the opening of your hot, twitchy cunt, swiping drops of arousal and then spreading it around your clit. The lubricant beneath her fingertips made the sensation slippery and slick. You slowly gasped at the feeling. The sensation got you to slip out of your body for a split second, as if you could see the scene playing out in front of you. Your hips were grinding fast and hard into Helena's hand.
You snatched her wrist and pushed her hand down. "Inside," you snapped. "If you're really sorry, then inside."
"As you wish," Helena murmured. Her three fingers pushed up and in, stretching the velvety walls of your cunt out. You wanted to scream. Her fingers curled and reached up at the spongey spot way inside of you, like the brightest star in all the galaxy.
"Shit!" you cried. You lurched your head back, your hair scrunching up into Helena's face and nose. She didn't seem to care as she slowly pumped in and out, always making sure to press up at your starpoint.
"Never again," you cried as you gripped at Helena's forearm. You used this as an anchor point to keep you grounded while you wiggled your hips into Helena's hand. "You're never again going to treat me this way. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Dove, yes," Helena assured you in a soothing voice. "You're such a good bird for me," she sighed, her cool breath tickling your ear. "And you deserve good things. You deserve to cum all over my hand."
Yes, an internal voice shrieked within you. You thought another version of yourself would punch through your chest and take over, take over everything.
Your entire existence rolled up into nothing but pure light as you felt your high coming on quickly. You knew you were cumming, and Helena did too, for she used her other hand to simultaneously stimulate your clit.
The pressure released, like a balloon snapping in your belly.
You were breathing heavily as you sank into Helena's arms. You hadn't realized how tense you'd been until all of your muscles relaxed.
"I'm sorry, Dove," Helena murmured into your ear. She held you tight and close. Her natural perfume, a blend of rosewater and fresh flowers, flooded your senses. With your energy dwindling after such an exertion, you didn't have the strength to argue or complain. You laid there, silently accepting her apology. No longer were you distracted by the wanton desires for orgasm and relief. And in the same way, you were no longer consumed with bitter anger.
"Do you promise we're going to be alright?" you asked, voice cracking and hoarse.
Helena kissed your neck.
"I do."
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xfandomwritingsx · 4 years ago
Text
Unchained Part Two - Riddick
Description: When your crew captures Riddick, you risk letting him go. (And travel with him and now you’re attracted to a murderer. Fun times.)
Warnings/Labels: Language, Sexual Activities (Fingering), Riddick being Riddick.
Approx. Word Count: 3,300
A/N: GUYS! Look what I FINALLY did!!! I am too lazy and too excited to find a gif for this fic so just... live without one.\
Part One
You knew if he didn’t decide to kill you first, Riddick was going to drop you at the next planet, livable or not. He never said it, but you weren’t under any delusions about traveling together and honestly just hoped you’d get there sooner than later. The longer it took, the more chance he had to decide you weren’t worth keeping alive.
Unfortunately, shortly after he’d jettisoned the crew, alive or otherwise, into black space, you’d hit a bad storm. Navigation systems were cut and you both got knocked around pretty good. Parts of the ship were destroyed. Whole sectors had broken off. It was a wonder how you were both still alive.
The following day, you caught him trying to tend to an injury on his own back. You watched for a moment as a man made of pure muscle attempted to apply aid to a place he could not reach. The click of his jaw was the only indication that he was frustrated.  
“Here,” you offered, entering the dark room and setting down the pile of clothes you’d collected for yourself on a nearby table. “Let me help.” You stood next to him and waited for his silent permission, his acceptance of your offer. He looked at you, melted silver eyes taking you in. His stare wasn’t predatory this time, rather curious and quizzical as he assessed you.
As you assumed, he didn’t say anything, simply handed you the rag in his hand as his command to proceed. You took it and moved behind him, straddling the same bench he was. He gave you one final look over his shoulder before turning away and letting you work.
The wound was mostly superficial with more bruising than anything. You used the rag to gently clean the area before applying a small amount of ointment to the bruised skin. Riddick was unmoving under your touch. He did not flinch nor relax into your hands, simply stayed still and silent in front of you as you worked on him. Your fingers lingered on his skin once you were done, tracing the hard muscle of his shoulders and you only removed them when he turned his head to you again and silently cocked an eyebrow at you.
When you pulled away, there was deep rumble of a “Thanks,” from him and you shuffled yourself out fairly quickly, not seeing the amused smirk he gave you.
Less than a day later, you docked at a station on a remote planet. You packed up your bag with everything that could fit inside and left the ship. You bartered with locals for a short while and tried to get your bearings and perhaps a plan.
When you returned to the ship an hour later, you’re not surprised to see it gone. What did surprise you, was a strong hand wrapping itself around your forearm and pulling you to the side. Riddick had come up behind you and led you to another ship, one he’d either bought somehow or, more likely, high jacked. This time you saw the slightest smirk on his lips as he watched the surprise on your face.
And now, a couple of months later, you’re still on that foreign ship traveling through space with your only companion being a cold-hearted murderer. And yet, as you stand in the cockpit staring out at an endless sky full of stars, you can’t help but think this is the most content you’ve been in a long time. You’ve been flittering around the galaxy, jumping planet to planet for supplies and having no responsibilities besides keeping the ship going, keeping yourself alive, and making sure Riddick doesn’t want to kill you. You actually spend less time looking over your shoulder now than you did traveling with mercs the last few years. Overall, it’s not a bad way of life.  
There’s a chuckle behind you from Riddick who’s sitting in the pilot’s chair that he’s moved to the side of the control panel. You look over your shoulder at him with arms crossed over your chest.  It’s quite amusing how casual and comfortable he looks there.  
“Let me ask you something,” he says, hands folded in his lap as he watches you, ghost of a smile still on his mouth. “When you gonna stop taking everything you own off the ship every time we land?” You furrow your brow and act as though you don’t know what he’s talking about, which only makes him chuckle again. “You think I don’t see you packing up all the supplies you can carry every time we dock?” He tilts his head at you. “Like you’re not expecting to come back.” You press your lips together and turn around fully to face him.
“I thought you’d drop me the first chance you got,” you admit. “Never liked the idea of being unprepared. Second nature when you run with mercs.” You shrug and watch as Riddick carefully runs his tongue around the edge of his lower lip. His goggles mask his eyes, but you’ve picked up on his movements the last couple of months and judging by the small dip in his chin, he’s running his eyes over your body. It’s a gesture you’ve found you don’t mind much at all.
“Come here,” he tells you firmly, leaving little to no room for you to argue. You follow the command and step forward slowly, purposely stepping just off to the side of him. “Now why would I drop something as beautiful as you?” Soft words, but a dark voice. You have to physically repress the shiver that tickles down your spine. You suspect he sees the little roll in your shoulders as you uncross your arms.
“You don’t strike me as the kind of man to keep things around just because they’re pretty.” You slip your hands into your back pockets just so they’re not hanging at your sides. You ignore the way Riddick looks at you and the delightful chill that that crawls across your skin.
“Ahhh,” he sighs, still clearly entertained by the conversation. “But you have your uses, don’t you?” There’s a clear definition in his voice that implies more than flirtation and it both excites you and scares you.  
“Well, I can sure as shit turn a ship better than you. That’s for sure,” you joke lightly, something in you not wanting to give in to his game so easily. He bites his lip and hums.
“By all means, take the helm,” he tells you. A wicked tilt comes over his mouth and you get the feeling he’s looking directly into your eyes. “I’ll enjoy the ride.”  
A heat rises from your center and resonates up the skin of your neck. Skin tingles as you force yourself to breathe slowly, evenly. You toy with the idea of playing back with him, the danger of the fire so tempting and hard to resist. You wonder if you could get a rise out of him. Could you make him weak at the knees if you tried?
You’re still contemplating what you want when Riddick suddenly grabs you. Your heart jumps and adrenaline fills your veins instantly, but you’re not nearly quick enough to stop him. His wraps around your wrist first, yanking you forward and spinning you off balance. His other hand slips around the base of your throat and in a flurry of movement, he’s pulled you onto his lap, his chest pressing firmly to your back.  
Your breath is shaky now as you attempt to stay completely still. Survival mode already kicked in, your body freezes in order to show no threat towards a wild animal. No sudden movements. No tensing of the muscles he might feel. Just slow breath and concentration.
It’s a near mirror image to the hold he had on you when you set him free and as you begin to calm down, you realize the hand around your throat isn’t squeezing. It’s cradling if anything. The fingers around your wrist aren’t holding firm anymore, but instead dancing around the sensitive skin. Riddick presses his nose into your neck and breathes deeply before moving his hand from your wrist to your hips. Using light pressure on your neck and a hard push on your hips, he drags you back along his lap, seating your ass on his crotch and pressing every inch of your back to him. There’s a sharp hiss of breath through your nose when you feel a rising hardness beneath you.
“I never thanked you.” You can feel his deep voice through his chest on your back. His hand slips off your neck and to your collar bone as his fingers at your hip slowly start to play with the waistband of your pants.  
“You didn’t kill me.” Your voice is not nearly as steady as you hoped. His nose traces up your neck and you find yourself titling your head, letting him press behind your ear and travel back down again.  
“That doesn’t seem like much of a thank you, does it?” he whispers darkly into your ear. “I think you deserve something a little more than that.” Another hiss of breath as his fingers pop open the button of your pants. Your hand instinctively darts out to stop him. He lets out a breathy laugh into the juncture of your neck, but his hand does still beneath yours.  
You try to think, to weigh your options, but your mind is thick and foggy and Riddick’s mouth is opening against your skin. His teeth graze over you before his tongue gently licks at the heat on your neck. You repress a soft moan and your grip on his hand loosens. He takes your moment of haze to slip his knees between yours. With one swift motion, he uses his own knees to pull yours apart, spreading your legs and causing you to groan. He lets out a sigh as though he’s received some sort of relief through this.
“You have no idea how fucking good you smell,” he groans. None of this should turn you on. The cold-blooded killer telling you how you smell. The way he has you pinned open for him. The way his fingers are moving again to undo your pants. And yet, the only reason your thighs clench is because your body is desperate for friction.  
Your hand rests on his wrist, no longer trying to stop him. You just need to touch him. Your other arm reaches up and behind you, your fingers gripping at the back of Riddick’s neck, pulling him closer. His lips are on the column of your throat again, sucking and licking at the thin, sensitive skin. Taking your moan as permission, his hand slides into your pants. He doesn’t bother playing with you through your panties and slips inside of them too, fingers going straight for your hot, bare center. Your fingers tighten around the back of his neck as his slip through your folds, back and forth, reveling in the feeling of your slick.
“So wet,” he mutters into your throat. “Such a pretty little pussy.” Your eyes close and focus on the heat building in you, the ache to feel something inside. The hand at your collarbone glides down into the neck of your shirt and again bypasses your undergarments. He cups your breast in his palm, gently squeezing before pinching your nipple. “I know how bad you’ve wanted it,” he tells you. “Walking around smelling like a bitch in heat.” Your hips involuntarily thrust forward, trying to encourage his fingers to push into you. He chuckles and uses his arm wrapped around your side to bring you back. “So needy.”
When he pulls you back, you feel his cock underneath you and without thinking, you grind down onto him. His hands still for a fraction of a moment and you swear you feel his hips threaten to push up to meet you. You take the moment and gather all the boldness you have left in you.
“Feels like I’m not the only one,” you tease, your throat dry and voice raspy. You grind down into him again and his fingers dig into your breast. You pull your neck from his mouth and crane to look over your shoulder at him. “Tell me you haven’t wanted it too.” You can’t see his eyes through the blackness of his goggles, but his lips are pressed together and they twitch when you press into his cock. You open your mouth to say something more, but his knees press on the insides of your legs, opening them up further and thrusts two fingers inside of you. He smiles at the way you groan and let your head fall back onto his shoulder.  
His fingers are thick and strong, angling to reach deeply inside of you. Your body melts under his touch, your hands losing their grip on him entirely. He pushes his fingers into your only a few times, torturously slowly, and then holds them still, fingertips hovering just outside. You let out a quiet whimper.  
“Take what you want,” he tells you, that black amusement filling his tone. Your hips move forward, but ultimately hesitate. “C’mon,” he encourages, voice coming down to a whisper as his fingers tease you. “Ride my hand.” It’s a command this time, one you’re obliged to follow. You rock your hips forward to his unmoving fingers and let them sink back into you. Your breaths are short and shallow as you bit back moans, slowly shifting your hips back and forth on him. “Fuck yourself on my fingers. Let me feel you make yourself cum.” You shift your hips and slip your hand underneath, palming at his cock. His hand is out of your shirt instantly, grabbing harshly at your wrist. “Uh-uh,” he scolds, pulling your hand back out and away from him. You huff in frustration. “Did I say you could do that?” You whimper again, soft and quiet before resuming your thrusts. “Good girl,” he purrs.  
You give in to him, focus on your own pleasure like he wants. He keeps whispering dirty encouragement in your ear, holding you upright as you push your hips back and forth on his fingers. He curls his fingers in you, reaching a place high within you that makes your whole core shake. You can feel him smirk against you and does it again.  
“Riddick,” you moan. There’s an implication of a request in there, verging on begging.
“What?” He curls his fingers again. “What do you want?” He takes your earlobe between his teeth and shivers cascade down your spine. You try to speak, but all that comes out is a choked sound. “What was that?” he teases. “Do you want something?”
“More. Please.”
“I do love hearing you beg.” The next time you pull away from his fingers, he offers a third for you take. You push forward more slowly this time, eyes rolling back into your head. You bite your lip, still trying to withhold your sounds of pleasure from him. “That’s it,” he coos. “Take it all.” He slowly starts moving his hand to meet your thrusts again. “Such a pretty little thing writhing on my hand like that.” He presses his palm against your clit. “Bet you’d look even better on my dick.” The very thought sends mini shockwaves through you and you arch into his hand. “Tight, wet pussy stretched around my dick.”  
“Riddick,” you pant, trying to warn him about how close you are.  
“Do it.” He forces his fingers deeper inside of you and circles his palm over your clit harder. “Cum on my fingers. Let me feel it.”  
“Fuck,” you curse, your body starting to tense up. You’re on the edge, can feel yourself ready to go over. When he barely contains a groan in your ear and his hips involuntarily thrust up, his own pleasure rising into him, that’s when the coil in you snaps.  
With a hiss, your whole body clenches and releases all at once. You can hear him breathe deeply underneath your moans and his body tenses beneath you, controlling himself. Your orgasm is a wave that washes over you and tries to drown you, blacking out your vision and dragging you down into a dark bliss. The only thing that pulls you back, is Riddick’s voice rumbling against your back.  
“Good girl,” he says, holding onto you as you come back to him. You wince as he slowly pulls his fingers from you and out of your pants. You let your head fall back onto his shoulder again and when you hear him sucking, you open your eyes to see him licking your slick off of his fingers. He hums pleasantly. “Taste as good as you smell.” You let out an airy laugh and look away.
“Do I need to worry about you eating me when I sleep?” You mean it in the creepy way, in the peel your flesh from your bones, murder kind of way. He twists it though, pushes his still hard dick against you.
“You’d like it,” he assures with a dirty smile. He gives your thigh a quick slap. “Now get up.”
Your muscles are weak and your thighs shake as he finally lets your knees out of his hold. As you stand, you realize you’ve soaked through your panties and your pants, leaving a wet spot that’s sticky and starting to cool. When you turn to face Riddick, you’re unsurprised, but still slightly embarrassed to see that it was enough to leave a wet spot on his crotch too.
He looks so content and pleased with himself and if it wasn’t for the bulge in his pants, you’d think this is the most comfortable you’ve seen him. You find yourself staring a little too long and shuft your weight on your feet, trying to seem casual.
“I could help with that,” you say, trying to hide the desire that’s swelling back up inside of you. He chuckles.  
“I’m good,” he says coolly. “That was your thank you.” You bite your lip and nod carefully.
“Remind me to save you more often,” you joke lightly, pleasantly surprised to see he’s amused by it. You decide to try one last time. “Or maybe there’s something I can thank you for.” You wish you could see his eyes, maybe get a hint as to what he’s thinking. He slowly stands up, reminding you just how strong he is, how tall and powerful he is as he practically glides to his feet. He approaches you, stalking into the space between you and tilts his head ever so slightly.
“You couldn’t handle me,” he warns. He reaches up and you have to resist that instinct to stop him again. His finger plays with a few strands of your hair idly. “I’d tear you apart.” Shit like that is supposed to terrify you. Instead, you actually lean into him and put your hands at his waistband.
“I can take it,” you tell him breathlessly, heart already starting to speed back up, body thrumming and nearly ready to go all over again. He scoffs and looks away from you for a moment.  
“I don’t think so.” When he steps back, puts space between you, it feels like cold water rushing over you. Disappointment and emptiness fill the void and if it wasn’t for the way his touch lingered in your hair or the way he bit his lip, you’d feel rejection too. “You have a ship to steer,” he tells you. The teeth on his lip, the bulge still in his pants, the way little swagger in his step as he steps away all tell you he’s still playing a game. One that you are all too happy to keep up with.
“Yes, sir,” you tease, allowing him to walk out of the cockpit with no further argument.  
This is far from over.
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starfallvalley · 3 years ago
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The Bachelors
Took me a while to get these all nailed down, still unsure on a few of them. Not my strongest ideas overall but I’m making it work. One or two may get retconned in the future; the aquatic concentration is especially high with this group. I gotta settle for now to meet my deadline, though. So without further ado, here they are!
  Alex - Shark Dude
Weights clanged against the ground, the last reps finished for the day. Alex wiped the sweat from his brow, heaving. He’d gotten a new personal best every day for the past week; he was on fire. Maybe working out this much wasn’t too healthy, but hey, it took his mind off things. George had gotten a cold earlier in the spring, and… well, lifting was meditative. Plus, this new aqua-protein diet thing seemed to be working out great. Nothing like fresh salmon. He may be looking a little gray around the gills, but that was supposed to be normal. The fins, maybe less so, but he wasn’t about to stop now. Maaaybe if the tail got big enough to throw off his lifts.
  Elliot - Merman
Inspiration. Such a fickle thing. He thought the Gem Sea would provide, but she was a cruel mistress, and the only thing he received from her was the swirling beauty of shells. So when the local farmer announced a trip out to one of the nearby Fern Islands, he leapt on the opportunity to sail into the great unknown! An adventure surely would draw out the inspiration he truly desired! Or maybe he’d just end up vacationing in a slightly damper and windier shack than the one back in the valley. Truly, what a predicament he’d landed himself in! Despair, dismay, it was all quite dramatic, truly, just ask him. As soon as he’d given up hope, walking across a rainy beach, a sight struck him: a mermaid, resting upon a stone out in the sea. Inspiration! He dove into the sea, fighting the pounding surf to reach it! He didn’t really expect to make it that far; he also didn’t expect the fish tail he ended up with. But hey, inspiration is inspiration, and his new opera is coming along quite well.
  Harvey - Bio-Clockwork Kirin
Ever the optimist, Harvey hasn’t quite given up on his dreams of flight, despite their impossibility. He’s managed to get a real pilot on his radio once or twice, even. It must have been aging poorly, though; whenever he tuned it past a specific point, there was always a faint… click. So strange. He couldn’t find the source, even when he tried for hours on end, and the radio itself seemed perfectly fine. But it felt so loud, sometimes, so close. If only he could just find the right frequency…No one’s quite sure what happened, least of all him, but Harvey emerged from his room days later, frazzled, tormented, quite a bit more equine, and letting off a faint tick of his own. Despite the somewhat horrific appearance, he’s got just as much medical expertise as before, it seems. Just don’t listen to his heartbeat for too long.
  Sam - Satyr
Sam knew good music when he heard it, and this was good music. Ephemeral, unknowable; an absolute bop. He had to find whoever was playing it. Was that a… pan flute? What a weird choice, but it worked! He hadn’t really planned what to do when he found the musician, but he also hadn’t planned on ending up at the base of one of the town’s cliffs with the tide coming in, so a lot of things had gone wrong, really. He got himself back up eventually, after removing his shoes and finding some goat hooves; those things could stand on anything. His mom was gonna be furious about all the mud he tracked inside, though.
  Sebastian - Just Kinda Fishy
The best frogs came out during spring rainstorms. Those were the ones who sang with a glee that Sebastian couldn’t understand, but loved to hear. His family acted like he was uninterested in science, like his dad and Maru; that was entirely untrue. He just wasn’t interested in their science. Frogs were way cooler. So when he saw just about the biggest frog ever chasing after some tadpoles, he knew he had to catch and identify it. Mist is a tricky force, though, and that “frog” turned out to be the biggest fish ever. Also, that log he wanted to jump on didn’t exist, so there was that. Robin let out quite the shriek when her son flopped through the door with fins and slime, but seeing as there wasn’t much to do at that point, she just sent him off to his room with some desiccants. He still likes to hang out with the frogs, but now he gets to lead the chorus, too. He and Alex seem to be getting along quite well, these days.
  Shane - Raptor
Blue chickens. No one had quite seen anything like it. They were fierce, protective, sharp-beaked, but around Shane all the birds became loving little balls of fluff. He just had a way with them. Even their eggs carried a slight blue tinge, with an extra savoury tang in an omelette. One of his prized birds seemed to have gotten her claws on a weird, speckled egg; Shane left it for a while, but kept a close eye on her, unsure if it was a cuckoo or not. Fortunately for him, it wasn’t; unfortunately for him, it was a dinosaur egg instead, and during the… ranch incident, it made quite a mess of things. He came out unscathed, but now that he’s lower on the evolutionary ladder than his flock, they never let him hear the end of it. At the end of the day, he’s the one with the feed, though, so they know better than to tug at his feathers or scratch up his scales.
 And there’s the bachelors! Again, not quite sure on these, but it’ll do. Next up I’ll probably do the kids; after that will be the rest of the adults, split into two or three posts. At that point I’ll see about making a master post and get that pinned with links to everything. Until next time!
  tl;dr Alex is an unapologetically furry anthro shark. Elliot is a merman (and first thus far to have changed on Ginger Island). Harvey is a partially-clockwork kirin. Sam is a satyr. Sebastian is just kinda fishy. Also quite slimy. Not his fault. Shane is a mix of bird-raptor and dinosaur-raptor.
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brokenbeskar · 4 years ago
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Repairs
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Chapter Five of Memories Reforged (Din Djarin x F!Reader)
Word Count: 11.7k
Summary: You and the Mandalorian make an emergency landing on Utrost and need to find a way to pay for repairs
A/N: This one ended up a bit longer than I had originally intended, but I had a ton of fun writing it! Hopefully you all enjoy! <3
You and the Mandalorian hadn’t spoken another word to each other while in the confines of space. You’ve simmered down quite a bit since the other day. You’re still mad--of course you are! you had every reason to be. Only instead of a burning rage, it's subsided into a simple distaste for the man you have to share the confines of this ship with. You get the feeling he probably feels the same way. 
The two of you weren’t avoiding each other by any means, neither of you were that petty, but the both of you definitely made a point not to linger around the other for too long. If he was in the cockpit, you would spend your time in the hull, and vice versa. You were purely co-existing with each other, silently passing by each other without a word. There was no direct malice by it, but there wasn’t any friendliness either. You were simply co-workers. Co-workers who didn’t like each other, but needed one another to get the job done. 
You’ll admit, you’re a little embarrassed by how you acted the other day. Not that it was unjustified-- oh no, without a doubt, it was definitely justified. 
Even still, you usually have a pretty good handle on your emotions. To completely blow up on him like that wasn’t something you would have expected from yourself. It's not what you're used to. 
None of this was what you were used to, if you’re being honest. 
Working a job with someone else--someone other than your husband. It feels strange. Everything has felt strange since he died. Nothing feels quite right anymore, and the shit show that took place on Coruscant? Just feels like another log thrown into the burning pile of things that have gone wrong for you. 
You miss him. 
Everyday you do, but especially when things go wrong--when things get hard. Especially now that you're stuck in the confines of this ship while you limp your way to Utrost. There's nothing to do other than wait. 
You have the kid to keep you busy sometimes, but when he’s sleeping, or spending time with his metal clad guardian, you’re left with nothing but your wandering mind. Left with nothing to do but think of him. Letting your thoughts transport you to a simpler and happier time. When nothing else in the galaxy mattered so long as you had each other. 
You fully immerse yourself in reliving the little things. The sound of his voice--both how it sounded running through the filter of his helmet, but how smooth and utterly rich it sounded without it. The way he sounded calling out for you, adoration lining every inch of his voice, like he was falling in love with your name for the first time everytime he said it. The way it would sound when he would first wake up, gravelly and warm. The way he would let out a soft hum as he pulled you tight against him--the warmth of his strong arms wrapping around you.
 Maker, what you would give to be in his arms again. To be comfortably wrapped up in his embrace after all of this...he would make it feel like nothing bad had ever happened to begin with. What you would give to have him comfort you, tell you everything was going to work out, and tell you everything would be okay, just like he used to. 
***
You’re still shaking as you run a sterilizing agent over his wounds. Your heart is still beating just as fast as it was, despite you being back in the safe confines of your ship. He’s watching over you silently as you slowly and tenderly clean the blood, dirt, and grime from his damaged skin. He winces slightly when you apply pressure, and you immediately halt your actions and shoot him a worried look, your heart pounding against your chest. The last thing you want to do is hurt him. You’ve done enough of that today…
“It’s okay,” He reassures you, bringing his free hand up to lightly cup your cheek, gently running his thumb along the high of your cheekbone, “I’m okay.” He offers you a warm smile, but it just makes your gut wrench. 
“No thanks to me…,” You murmur, dropping your gaze back down to his injury, as you resume your work. 
“You’re not the one who came at me with a vibroblade.” He lets out a chuckle, “Not that I would be opposed if you did, could be sexy.” He shrugs lightly. More jokes. It’s always jokes with him, but you don’t find it funny. No, this was serious to you. 
When you don’t give any sort of response in return like usual, he knows something's off. Of course he had noticed you were shaken up, but he wrongly assumed it was lingering adrenaline from the incident. He reaches out and lightly catches the wrist of your working hand, halting you from continuing to work on his wounds. 
“What’s wrong, Sen’ika?” He gives your wrist a gentle squeeze.
You tighten your grip on the sanitizing wipe in your hand, “This isn’t the time for jokes.” You spit out seriously, “You’re injured. You’re lucky it wasn’t worse!” You can’t even look at his face, you just glance over all his injuries. With each one you see, guilt pools in your chest, the sharp pain of it weighing heavy as you breathe. “This is my fault...you got hurt because of me…” You trail off as you bring your free hand up to lightly trail your fingers over the skin next to the sizable gash across his upper arm. 
“Yeah, I got hurt, but it's not that bad...and it’s definitely not your fault, sweetheart.” He tugs at your wrist, bringing up to his face so he can trail tiny kisses along the side of it.
“But it is!” You yank your wrist back from his gentle grasp, “I messed up! I made a mistake! You had to come and save me, because I fucked it all up! Again! And this time--this time you got hurt! Maybe---maybe I’m just not cut out for this…” You trail off at the end defeatedly. 
“Ner laar sennar…,” He breathes out sweetly as he reaches out for you, placing his hands firmly on the sides of your shoulders, “We all make mistakes. I knew the risk I was taking when I rushed in like that. You’re too hard on yourself. You’ve only just started this job a few months ago, and yet you’re already better than most in the guild. You’re a very impressive and capable bounty hunter.” He rubs his thumb on your shoulder softly while he speaks, and it immediately puts you at ease. He had a point, he only taught you to fire a blaster and wield a vibroblade not even a year ago. Skills you never would have even imagined yourself capable of doing before you met him.
“...Thanks,” You finally look back up to him and give him a weak smile after a beat of silence, “A Mandalorian taught me.” 
“That’s my girl!” He beams at you brightly, then suddenly he's hauling you up from the ground where you're kneeling, and pulling you down against him from where he’s sitting in the pilot’s seat. The positioning is awkward and uncomfortable, so you shuffle your knees up onto the seat and around his hips the best you can. He loosens his grip on you only enough so you can wiggle into a more comfortable position in his grasp, wrapping your arms around him, before he's squeezing you again. 
You let out a contentful sigh as you nuzzle into the side of his neck, his hand coming up to tangle in your hair while his other slowly runs along your back. He presses a kiss to your temple.
“Bounty hunting is not an easy or glamorous job. Sometimes things go wrong, sometimes mistakes happen, and sometimes we get hurt. It’s part of it.” He buries his face into your hair, and takes a deep breath before planting another kiss to your temple, “But there’s always going to be another job, another bounty, and our wounds will heal with time. All we can do is move forward and press on...but, mesh’la?” The hand he’s been gentling running down your back back stills for a moment, pressing flat against the middle of it, “As long as you’re here, by my side, in my arms…,” He gives you a firm squeeze, “ just know that it’s all going to be okay.” 
And he was right. You know the risk that comes with the job. You still feel bad about what happened, but he was okay. You were okay. All you can do is move forward and press on. And with the way he was holding you against him so tight, his face pressed into your hair, yours in the side of his neck, the way his heart beat felt against your own, you had no doubt in your mind that everything was going to be just fine.
***
But instead you were alone. Sitting on the cold ground in the hull of a ship that wasn’t yours. The metal beneath you, a glaring reminder of the harsh reality you were living in instead of the fantasy you could lose yourself in forever. You hold your helmet--his helmet--tight to your chest, and you curl around it, wishing it could bring even a fraction of the same comfort that he always gave you.
You miss him.
--------------------------
Landing on Utrost couldn’t have come any quicker. The second you felt the ship make its clumsy landing in it’s assigned hangar, you practically jumped to your feet, rushing to find your go-bag. The thought of finally being off this ship--finally getting some fresh air--and maker, some real food. Ration packs were fine most of the time, but after only being able to eat them for weeks? You’re ready for something else. 
You hear the Mandalorian descend the ladder as you click your helmet on and hit a button on the hull wall to lower the ramp. You look over in his direction, and see he has the baby tucked away in a bag on the side of his hip. You can’t help but smile to yourself with the way The child’s big eyes barely peek over the top and his big green ears stick out the sides. You almost want to ask if you can take him with you, treat him to some local street food you’re positive he would love. But with the way things have been between you and the powerful man carrying him, you don’t bother. 
When the ramp finally lowers, you immediately make your stride down, trying to contain your excitement of finally being off the ship. When your feet hit the solid ground of the hangar beneath you, you can’t help but raise your arms above you and let out a much needed stretch. You already feel lightyears better than you did before, and you haven’t even stepped into the sun yet. 
The hangar bay you got assigned to was way bigger than it needed to be considering your ship's size. It could have easily fit three more of them and still have some room to easily move about the round space. It was half enclosed, a large rounded metal covering half of the hanger and engulfing it in shade, the other half open to allow for landing. There were parts scattered about in what you assume to be an unorganized fashion. Platform lifts and transport carts are abandoned throughout the area. It looked like this place hadn’t been used in ages. 
You barely notice when an exhausted looking mechanic slowly makes his way across the hangar as the Mandalorian descends the ramp behind you. He’s punching something into the holopad in his arm as he strolls over, his goggles pushed up onto his head, pulling his hair up into a wiry mess behind them. He feels so out of place. With a bay this size you would be expecting more mechanics, droids, anything. Instead it’s just one. Dragging his feet as he makes his way over to you. It’s only when he gets closer you realize how young he looks. 
He looks up from his holopad with a heavy sigh when he sees the state of the ship. You turn to take a look yourself and---stars, that’s bad. This is the first time you’ve been able to actually see the damage. Large scorch marks plastered heavily across the entire length of it, along with huge tears in the metal. It was a disaster.
“Looks like you two got yourselves in quite the mess.” He drawls out as he steps closer to further inspect the ship. “Whatever you hit, it did some pretty serious damage. Surprised you made it here in one piece.” He continues absently as he punches some notes into his holopad. 
“How soon can you have it repaired by?” The Mandalorian next to you questions, and the mechanic scoffs in response. 
“If my droids were still up and running? I could have had her ready for you by tomorrow night. But since it's just me now, It’ll take me a few days.” 
“How long is a few days?” The mechanic turns to stare him down, glaring into his visor. “A few days. And it will be a few days more if you decide to be a pain in the ass.” He quickly turns back to continue assessing the damage. You notice something, just barely--out of the corner of your eye, you have to turn slightly to get a better look, but you notice the Mandalorian’s fists tighten at his sides. His shoulders may even tense slightly, but you aren’t sure. It might just be your mind playing tricks on you. 
Up until this point you truly thought he was unbothered by this whole thing. Like his ship getting damaged and the bounty getting away was no big deal, just another day. He’s always so stoic, so composed--like all of the time. And he almost never talks, so it’s not like he could give it away verbally. It’s only now you’re realizing, from just the slightest flex of his fists, that the illusion of his helmet--having never seen his face--almost had you believe he was completely imperturbable. Like...you knew he was irritated the day you left Coruscant, but on the days that followed it never actually occurred to you that he might be just as angry and pissed off as you were about the whole thing.
 He was.
 He was just much better at hiding it than you were.
“Alright. Looks like repairs are gonna cost ya forty thousand.” He doesn’t even flinch when he tells you the amount, like it's no big deal, tapping loudly once on the holopad to finalize the estimate. 
You choke. 
The Mandalorian whips around so fast you’re worried he’s going to give the baby whiplash. 
“Forty thousand?!” You shout it louder than you mean to. You’re just in utter disbelief at the amount. He must have made a mistake--there's no way. That was way too much. That can’t be right at all. 
“That's what I said.” The mechanic taps the side of his holopad impatiently.
“Repairs are cheaper on Coruscant.” The Mandalorian snaps out.
“Then feel free to fly back to Coruscant.” 
“But I don’t understand, what exactly is costing that much?” You question anxiously. You clearly needed these repairs if you were to ever end up off this planet and back on the hunt, but where in the galaxy were you supposed to find that many credits?
“Lets see…” he starts scrolling through his holopad, listing off the repairs he’s taken note of for your estimate, “You’ve got a fuel leak, hyperdrive’s got some serious damage, gonna have to be replaced all together, right thruster damage, I assume your not running any higher than 40% efficiency, Got some busted power lines, and you’re gonna need a ton of rewiring, not to mention your reflector shields are damaged. Then we’ve got all the body damage to worry about.” He shakes his head to himself, “S’gonna be a lot of work and like I said, someone went and damaged all my droids so it’s just me now. Damn thugs…” He murmurs the last bit to himself quietly, but it piques your interest. 
“Thugs?” He just looks at you with pure hesitation in his eyes, like he so desperately wants to tell you everything but there's something holding him back. 
“Forty thousand for the repairs. Pay up or find someone else to repair your ship.” He repeats shortly. He goes to turn away, tucking his holopad into a holder on his side. 
“These thugs the reason your prices are so high?” 
He scoffs, “You really think I would be chasing away what little business I get with prices this high by choice?” He shakes his head with a sigh, “A group of spice runners moved in a couple months ago, been terrorizing the whole town since they got here. At first they were just using it as a way to transfer product, but then they got violent. They run the whole town now. You pay their prices, and do as they say, or you end up dead.” 
You settle back on your heels. Straighten out your shoulders and stand tall, resting your hands on your belt and tilt your helmet in his direction, a clever, perfect little plan forming in your brain. 
“How much would repairs be if--let's say...those spice runners weren’t a problem anymore?” You shrug your shoulders nonchalantly and you notice the Mandalorian turn his helmet in your direction. He clearly knows what you're getting at. At the same time the mechanic bursts into laughter, as if that's the funniest joke he's heard since the solstice. 
“If you could find a way to take care of Rrollesh and his gang? On maker, I'll give you your repairs for free!” He laughs his whole way through it, clearly not taking your proposition seriously.
You on the other hand? Looks like you just landed yourself a job. 
“Where can I find them?” 
The mechanic’s laughter fades and he locks eyes with your visor in a questioning manner, only just now realizing you’re being serious. “I mean, you take a quick walk around town you’re sure to run into them at some point. They don’t like strangers. Most days they play sabacc at the cantina towards the end of town.” 
“Of course they do.” You give the mechanic a firm grip on the shoulder, “You get started on those repairs, I’ll take care of the rest.” You give his shoulder a couple pats before turning towards the silent armored man next to you. 
“I’m going to go check things out. You should take the kid to get some real food. He’s probably more sick of ration packs than I am.” You can’t help but let out a small sigh at the realization that getting yourself some good food might have to wait. Just your luck.
“Going alone?” 
“I think I can handle it. Besides, I’m the one who took the job.” You shrug, already turning to make your leave.
“Let me know if you need backup” 
“Sure thing tin can” you call back to him with a dismissive wave of your hand as you continue your way out of the hangar.
--------------
Every step to the cantina was torture. By the time you finally got there and settled into a booth you almost completely forgot why you were there. All you could think about was food. 
Street vendors were tempting you at every corner, their sizzling goods reminding you exactly what you were missing. 
Every wiff you would catch through your helmet made your headspin. Sweet freshly baked pastries, smoky grilled meats, not to mention all kinds of exotic fruits--half of which you’ve never seen before, but looked delicious all the same. It all just made your stomach cry out and your need for real--fresh--delicious food only grow exponentially with every step. 
You settle further into your seat, propping a knee up on the edge of the table. Tapping a finger a couple of times on the top of it where your hand rests. You let out a light huff of air. Hopefully the kid was having a good time right now. You can imagine his little cheeks stuffed to the brim with whatever his metal clad guardian would give him. The way his little hands would probably be already reaching for more before he even finished chewing, that greedy little bug. 
You’re beyond lost in your thoughts you don’t even notice the sudden shadow looming over you. It’s not until the violent BANG of a vibroblade being stabbed threateningly into the top of your table catches your attention and you realize you’re being crowded around. You look at the blade blankly, and slowly follow it up the strong arm of the stranger holding it. 
You lock your visor to the face of one very sizable Trandoshan. A large and gnarly looking scar splitting across his entire sandy scaled face, clouding one of his eyes in its path.
“Mandalorian…” He hisses out, deep and guttural, as a sly smirk breaks out revealing large sharp teeth, “What brings you to my bar?” 
You lean back in the booth, this must be that Rrollesh the mechanic was talking about. And if he wasn't, well you get the feeling he could definitely take you to him. You look slightly to your left, to take note of the various others crowding around you. Five of them, all boxing you into your booth, leaving you no escape. It's an interesting mix of smugglers to say the least. None look nearly as impressive as the clear leader in front of you, but you don’t doubt they would put up a good fight. 
The scarred Trandoshan pulls his blade out from the table, pulling your attention back to him. 
“I like your armor...Beskar goes for a lot these days.” He growls out lowly, pointing his blade in your direction. 
“Always does.” You reply coolly, “Mandalorian steel is one of the most durable materials, and very rare. Nearly impossible to get your hands on.” 
“Then you know why I want yours.” He inches his blade towards one of your pauldrons, close enough so he can press the tip of it against your metal, and it takes every fiber of your very being not to rip his damn arm off right then and there. His smirk grows wider and there's a dark chuckling from his goons next to you, that you choose to ignore. Keeping your visor locked to his eyes, trying to keep your relaxed composure, despite the obvious tension that's building.
“Mine’s in bad shape.” You shrug finally after a moment of silence, “But if you’re interested in Beskar I have a proposition that might interest you.”
“Do you seem like you’re in a position to be making deals right now?” 
“You seem like a smart guy,” you lie, “And I happen to know someone with a full set of Beskar probably worth twice what mine is.” The offer comes out of your mouth before you even realize what you're doing, but you're hoping he takes the bait.
The Trandoshan hums dark and grovely in his throat before silently taking a seat in the booth opposite to you. “Keep going” He encourages. Bingo.
“I’m here on a job, I’m hunting a Mandalorian. He escaped from me on Coruscant, but had to make an emergency landing here after the damage I did to his ship. He’s dangerous. Heavily armed, and in a full suit of freshly forged Beskar. One of the most skilled fighters I’ve ever gone against.” You move to rest your arms on the back of the booth, trying your best to seem as relaxed as possible while you lie straight out of your ass. You’re not even sure what you’re doing yet, just kind of making shit up as you go. 
“What exactly are you asking of me?” He leans forward in his seat squinting at you, still holding his blade.
“If you and your men help me catch my quarry, you can take his armor.” 
“I thought beskar belonged to the Mandalorians? Wouldn’t that be going against your own kind?” 
You shake your head dismissively, “I’m not a Mandalorian. I don’t care what happens to it so long as I get paid for my work.” 
He gives you a disbelieving look with a tilt of his head.
“Stole it off a dead guy.” you say nonchalantly as you notion to your armor with both hands, without moving your arms from their place on the back of the booth.
He lets out a hearty laugh, “I like you” he says waving his blade back in your direction, “I’ll help you catch your Mandalorian.” he nods with a smile, “what's your plan?”
---------------------------
“Mandalorian, you there?”
“Need backup?” His voice crackles through the static of the comm
“Not exactly.” 
“What does that mean?” He asks, suspicious of your ambiguous answer. 
“I found Rrollesh. Well, he found me I guess, we struck a deal.” 
“A deal?” “I told him if he helped me kill you he could have your armor” You confess bluntly.
There's a beat of silence, and you’re almost worried he’s going to hang up on you.
“You what?” He finally asks
“It’s not like it sounds.” You reassure him, but after you’re met with nothing but silence in return you continue, “We made a plan to ambush you tonight--”
“You’re not helping your case.” He cuts you off abruptly. 
“Just listen! We made a plan to ambush you tonight, but what's going to happen instead is we’re going to ambush them. I’m going to turn against them and you’re going to help me take them out.” you sound more confident than you feel explaining your half-baked whim of a plan, but you’re hoping he’ll go along with it. Your only other real option if he decides not to go along with it is to show up guns blazing and hope for the best, which didn’t seem ideal. 
“Don’t you think they’re planning the same thing?” He sounds dubious at best, but the fact he’s not outwardly declining gives you a spark of confidence.
“Oh, I know they are, the difference is they need me to help take you out. They probably plan to kill me after I help kill you. So if we beat them to it, we have nothing to worry about.” You shrug despite him not being able to see it. 
“How many are there?”
“No clue. There were six at the cantina including Rrollesh himself, but he said he’s bringing more.” 
“Where are you planning this ambush?” 
“I told them I would lure you to the middle of town, they're going to hide and try to surround you once you get there. Box you in. The second they make the jump for you, that's when I’ll turn on them.” 
“Should be easy enough.” His words are like honey in your ears, instant relief fills your entire body. 
“My thoughts exactly. Start heading down in three hours, I’ll have to meet back up with Rrollesh and his men and I don’t want to be seen with you until then.” “Copy that.” 
You’re about to turn off the comm and get ready to meet back with Rrollesh, but you hesitate. “Oh, before I forget!” You call out quickly before either of you can disconnect.
“What is it?” 
“Try not to shoot me this time, tin can.” You joke, your smirk almost audible in your voice.
“Try to communicate with me before you jump out from some crates and then maybe we have a deal. No promises though.” You hear his commlink click off the line. You know he was joking back, but something about his wording makes you freeze up. You sit there, alone with the static of your open comm ringing in your ear with the sudden realization. You keep replaying what he just said over and over in your head…
“Try to communicate with me before you jump out from some crates and then maybe we have a deal.” 
“Try to communicate with me…”
“Try to communicate…” 
Somehow, it’s only now that it hits you. This whole time you were blaming everything about what happened on Coruscant on the Mandalorian. This whole time, everything went wrong because of the things he did. Because he was an idiot, because he didn’t know any better. He kept getting in your way because he just couldn’t help but be obnoxious. 
But that wasn’t the case at all. 
You kept getting in each other’s way because neither of you had bothered to communicate. You mistakenly assumed he was the one to speak to the jeweler because you never bothered to ask him. Your bounty escaped through the window because you didn’t tell him what was going on until she already started to escape. You got shot because you didn’t bother to tell him your plan to flank her, and just jumped out in front of his shot. 
What happened on Coruscant was just as much your fault as it was his. And not because you weren’t good enough, or because he was stupid and didn’t know what he was doing, but because the two of you were bad at communicating with each other. You were too busy working against him instead of with him. 
Maker, you were a fool. 
All those insults you slung at him should have also been said to yourself. Now you’re really embarrassed. The realization of this should have come to you way sooner. Were you really so prideful you hadn’t noticed? So cocky in your own abilities, you were blind to your faults? 
No, that's not it at all. In fact, you realize, it’s probably the exact opposite. You struggled immensely every step of the way on that job. You felt so inadequate, so mediocre, so second-rate. In the height of your self consciousness you lashed out at him. You were blinded not by your pride, but by your shame. Your fear that you weren’t good enough, and he would be able to see that, that anyone would be able to see that. 
You feel incredibly guilty now. Down right bad. A sinking in the pit of your belly that almost makes you nauseous. You definitely owe him an apology. Whether or not he wants one, you owe it to him, even if only to clear your own conscience. 
For now though, you’ve got a job to finish. And you’re going to make sure you do a damn good job finishing it. 
-------------------------------------
“Ah! You made it!” Rrollesh calls out to you as you stroll out into the open area of the town where you agreed to meet, “I was starting to suspect you wouldn’t show.” His deep and guttural voice rumbles out in a dark tone as you approach him. 
You glance around him. Only three others are standing about. You tilt your visor at the large scaled man in front of you questioningly, “These are the only men you brought with you? I might as well be taking the Mandalorian on myself.” You scoff
“Oh no, not at all. The others are already stationed and waiting. Don’t you worry.” The threatening tone of his reassurance, followed by the sickly, toothy smile he shoots you, definitely confirms the fact that he is planning on killing you. You pretend not to notice.
“Good. Since these are your fighters, and this is your town, where do you want me?” You hope by giving him the illusion of control he’s less likely to suspect anything coming from you. 
Besides,
You know damn well no matter where he puts you, you’ll end up on top either way. 
“You and Tarsi are going to hole up there and wait for my signal.” He points up to the roof of a building to your right, “I’ll take the other two towards the front so we can close him off.” He points behind you where he intends on hiding out with the other two smugglers. 
You nod in confirmation, and go to make your way to your assigned spot, one of the smugglers trailing close behind you. This Tarsi, you assume, is...unimpressive--to say the least. He’s small, too eager as he jogs next to you to keep up with your pace, and seems far too excited about the prospect of taking down a mandalorian. 
And he won’t stop talking to you. 
You don’t even know about what, you tuned him out almost immediately after he opened his mouth for the first time. You just know he wouldn’t stop making noise. The whole way to your assigned spot, he was blabbing away. The whole time he set up his long range rifle, and adjusted his scope, he was. Still. Talking. 
At one point you notice while you’re settled down and looking out waiting for a signal--or any sign of the Mandalorian, that he’s been continuously scooting himself closer to you until there’s barely a gap between the two of you at all. 
“I just really like that in a woman…,” Were the only words you suddenly catch from him, as you feel his hand on your thigh. 
You shoot a threatening stare right into his eyes through your visor, which were already locked onto you. Only, he doesn’t get the hint. 
“I’m sure you’re just as beautiful under all that armor as you are with it on…” He continues, and his thumb gently runs a small circle on your thigh where his hand rests. 
How long exactly had he been hitting on you before you noticed? And how did he take your complete utter silence as interest? 
“It’s okay, you don’t have to say anything, I’ll take good care of you.” The way his voice drops into a sultry tone, and he starts to slide his hand up higher on your thigh, it's too much. You immediately grab his wrist and forcefully rip it from your leg, nearly crushing it in your grip as you continue to stare daggers at him. 
He winces at the force of it, but somehow, someway, he still doesn’t understand, “You like things rough I see, no problem. I’ll do whatever you want once this is all over. Does the helmet stay on or is there a chance I get to see your beautiful eyes?” 
You practically throw his wrist away from you. The audacity of him, to think you would actually be interested in sleeping with him. You can’t take it anymore, slowly you reach your hands out and gingerly place them on either side of his face. “You want a kiss sweetheart? No problem, I’ll give you a taste of--” You cut him off with a rough twist, and the awfully delightful sound of his neck snapping, causing him to immediately go limp in your arms. You roughly toss his body away from you in disgust. Thank the maker that was finally over. 
You shake your head lightly to yourself to regain your composure, and turn back just in time to see the familiar shine of the Mandalorian as he walks through the seemingly abandoned street. He pauses right in the middle of the road, in the middle of where everyone is hiding out.
There's a moment, a moment of absolute silence, as the armored man stands in the middle of the road unmoving. 
You can practically taste the tension in the air. It’s like time stops. Every moment suspended in mid-air waiting for the drop. 
You start to question whether or not you missed the signal, were they all waiting on you? You didn’t see or hear anything....kriff, what if it happened while you were snapping that guy's neck? 
 Clink. Clink. Clinkclinkclink clink
A metal canister bounces out across the street and rolls to a stop, drawing both the attention of you and the Mandalorian.
The can starts to hiss lightly, before the hiss erupts suddenly into a plume of fog that quickly begins to fill the street. 
That's the signal. 
Just as quickly as fog fills the street, consuming the Mandalorian in it’s haze, smugglers emerge and drop down from their various hiding spots, and with it their shouts and yells as they make a charge for their target.
Blaster fire lights up the fog filled street in smears of color, and you can hear how it ricochets off your accomplice’s beskar. 
You quickly scramble to grab the long range rifle next to you, and switch the setting on your helmet’s hud so you can easily see the heat signatures through the fog. Quickly searching around with your scope you lock on one of the poor souls still emerging from their hiding place. You squeeze the trigger, and fire. 
Your blaster bolt whistles through, lighting up the fog around it as it makes perfect contact with your target, sending them dropping limply to the floor. 
You’re immediately locking onto another target, you fire, direct hit. 
You can hear the clashing below you as the Mandalorian fights on the ground, and you take aim on another target. There's too much going on down there, you don’t feel like you can get a clear shot. Heat signatures are overlapping, and people are moving too quickly. You attempt to take a shot when you think you have an opening, but a blaster bolt gets ricocheted in your direction, causing you to jerk away just as you squeeze the trigger, and you miss. 
You let out a frustrated growl and readjust your hold on the rifle, rolling your shoulder back to loosen up before you take aim. You scan through the fog, through the heat signatures, it’s easy to spot the Mandalorian like this. His beskar makes his heat signature entirely unique. He’s being surrounded by five or six men, all haphazardly lunging at him, trying to overwhelm him with their number alone. 
Quickly you flick on your comm as you aim at one of the men circling behind him.
“Careful on your left.” You warn, just as you pull the trigger, sending your bolt whizzing right over his shoulder and making direct contact with the man behind him, sending him collapsing to the floor. You see the Mandalorian quickly look behind him as the body collapses, then shoots his glace directly to where your shot came from, directly at you. 
He doesn’t have the chance to even think about flicking his comm on before another is making a charge at him. As much as you have a vantage point where you are, you have a need to be there on the floor with him. You’re not a bad shot, but it’s not your strongest skill, and you know you would be much more effective in close combat. 
“I’m coming down, hang tight!” You flick your commlink back off and hop down to the ground beneath you. You keep low, sneaking the best you can through the fog. You’re not sure if anyone has noticed yet, that you’ve turned on them. Best to keep it that way as long as you can. Surely Rrollesh has noticed your absence, but then again, you haven't seen him either. 
You draw your blade, and grip it tight in front of you as you make your way through the fog. You slow your pace and quiet your steps as you begin to come up behind someone, firing their blaster in the Mandalorian’s direction. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve done this, adrenaline rushes through you everytime, your heart pounding as you slowly and carefully sneak up right behind them. It squeezes in your chest when you finally make the lunge for them, clamping a hand over their mouth as you drive your blade deep into them. You let out a deep breath as you rip your blade back out and let their body drop to the floor. 
But there's no time for relief, you hear someone behind you and immediately whip around to see another one of Rrollesh’s men staring you down with their comrades body by your feet. You waste no time gauging their reaction, and quickly rush towards him. He readies up both of his vibroblades and lunges right back at you with pure ferociousness. 
Your blades clash together violently, grinding against each other as sparks fly from the impact. You’re unrelenting in your offense, one powerful jab after another, as you continue to push him back, crowding him with your attacks. He struggles to block each one, not even getting a chance to make an attack on you. The pure force from each hit, forcing him to take several steps back. 
He steps sideways when you make another lunge for him, causing you to swipe nothing but air. You whip around just in time to barely block his oncoming attack. Your blades lock together and you shove him back with as much force as you can muster, sending him stumbling backwards. You waste no time barreling forward, knocking him to the ground, and rushing to pin him down, plunging your blade deep in his chest.
“I should have known…,” You shoot your gaze up at the unmistakable sound of Rrollesh’s deep and guttural voice. He takes a heavy step towards you, his figure transforming from a blurry shadow to a clear image of the hulking Trandoshan before you. “Do you intend to make a fool of me?” He growls out threateningly. 
You rip your blade out from the body beneath you without a word, keeping the gaze of your visor fixed on his. You’re trying to mask how heavy your breathing from the earlier fight, keeping yourself as still as possible as he towers over you. 
“I want both those Mandalorians dead! Kill them both!” He roars through the fog, taking a step back, “I want both their helmets on my wall!” He lets out a dark and throaty laugh, watching you jump to your feet as two of his goons rush for you.
You clash blades with the first one, spinning around to elbow the second right in the face as he tries to grab you from behind. You’re barely able to bring up your vambrance in time to block the first one coming right back at you again full force. His blade runs hot grinding against your beskar, the sparks lighting up your visor in a brilliant display of color. You kick him as hard as you possibly can in the gut, sending him barreling to the ground, only for you to be grabbed roughly from behind, a blade to your throat. 
You struggle to hold the blade back, and try to shake him loose. Roughly jostling left and right to no avail, before finally mustering the strength to haul him over your shoulder. You succeed, but it’s sloppy, the force of it throwing you to the ground next to him. Pure adrenaline pumps through your veins as you swipe at him with a shout of fury from where you are on the floor. He’s frantically crawling backwards away from you, as you continue to furiously swipe at him. 
His partner suddenly lunges on top of you, and makes a jab at you at the same time you quickly roll over in his grasp. His blade plunges into your side, causing you to scream out in pain as you feel the blade shred through your flesh in the exposed portion just beneath where your chest plate ends. You still feel the burning heat of pain radiating from your gushing wound as he rips the blade back out of you.
You struggle in his grasp as he makes another jab for your neck. You’re barely able to roll just enough sideways that he hits the ground next to you. You violently thrash as he slams your pauldron back down into the duracrete beneath you, as you’re straining to reach for your blaster with your non-dominant hand, trying to ignore the searing pain from your fresh wound. 
He lifts up, readying his blade to make the final blow, just as you manage to get a grip on your weapon. 
Hastily you squeeze the trigger just as he comes down full force.
BAM 
He falls limp on top of you, His blade still thrumming wildly as it falls from his grip. You don’t even take a second to breathe as you hear quickening footsteps from above you. 
You swiftly wrestle your arm from underneath the dead body on top of you and tilt your helmet against the floor, just enough to aim at his partner barreling towards you, and fire. 
His body skids to a halt next to you as it falls, and you’re finally able to take a breath. You rest your head back against the ground with a metallic thud as you try to steady your breathing, before hauling the body off of you and straining to get back to your feet with your hand clamped to your injured side, still clutching your blade.
How many more were there? You alone had already taken out eight men, who knows how many the Mandalorian had taken out. This was way more than you were expecting, and you haven’t even gotten to Rrollesh yet. You quickly look down at your hand holding your wound to assess the damage. There's blood, but not too much. Could be worse, you can still fight. 
With your blaster drawn and ready, still in your non-dominant hand, you quickly make your way to the middle of the road where you can hear the clash of the Mandalorian fighting off another enemy.
You make it just in time to see the body drop to the floor, and join the various others scattered around the armored man’s feet. He’s been busy too apparently. 
“Good to see you still standing, shiny.” You quip as you circle around to be back to back with him, scanning the fog for more enemies. 
“Looks like you’re barely able to.” He teases back as the two of you stand ready for any further oncoming attacks. 
“I’ve seen worse.” You shrug, “There can’t be much more of them left.”
You hear Rrollesh’s voice break through the fog, but you don’t see him. 
“I’m sick of playing games.” He bellows out, “This ends now!” You hear the unmistakable clinking of another metal canister bounce onto the road, only this time, as soon as the hissing erupts into another cloud of fog, you’re blinded. 
Your entire vision through the visor is filled with a bright blaring white. You quickly shield your eyes, but find the light isn’t letting up. It takes you a second to feel the hot air as it surrounds you. It wasn’t a flash bomb, no this was definitely a fog--a mist of some kind, but the heat of it was fucking up your visor. 
“What the hell is that?!” You shout quickly struggling to swap the setting on your helmet as you try to recover from the blinding light of it.
“Some kind of thermal screen.” The Mandalorian grunts out, clearly struggling as much as you with the sudden blindness. 
It’s abruptly clear to you now that the two of you were now at a disadvantage. Your thermal scanners now rendered absolutely useless. You were completely blind.
You and the Mandalorian continue your guard, back to back as you slowly circle around just waiting for the attack. 
You hear him before you see him, one of Rrollesh’s goons shouting as he rushes the both of you. Your armored partner clashes with him first, cutting in front of you to block the man’s blade with his vambrace. At the same time, a blaster shot zips through the air and collides with your chest plate, forcing you to take a step back. 
You fire back in the same direction it came blindly, simply hoping for the best. There was no way you could aim properly while blinded like this. You’re barely able to see a foot in front of you. Another slurry of blaster shots get sent your way, knocking against your chest plate and pauldron as the Mandalorian continues to push back against the blade wielder. You take another shot, focusing directly where the last one came from, and praying for a hit. 
There's no way to know for sure until this is all over, but with the grunt you hear, and the clatter of something falling, you're almost positive it hits. While you’re focusing on that, another smuggler jumps out from the fog and onto the back of the Mandalorian, trying to hold him steady so the other can get a clear shot. You hear the struggle behind you and swiftly turn around to help. 
The Mandalorian gives a couple quick elbow jabs to the man holding him in a lock, loosening his grip just enough he can rip him off. At the same time, you ready your blade and make a fierceful jab right into the side of the other man, causing him to double over and clutch his side in pain. Which leaves him wide open for you to deliver the finishing blow. His body hits the ground at the same time you hear the Mandalorian fire off two blaster shots, followed by the thud of another body. The deadly combination of you both made you feel unstoppable. Even with your injury, there was no doubt in your mind the two of you were walking away from this. 
You resume your defensive position, back to back, standing ready for any further attacks.
But no one comes. 
Silence fills the street again, revealing just how heavy your breathing is after all of this fighting and your injury. You feel sweaty under your helmet, your hair sticking to your face, while you focus on the empty fog in front of you. 
A sudden bone chilling, angered roar rips through the fog.
“I’ll kill you!” Rrollesh roars out in pure fury, “I’ll kill you myself! Tear you limb from limb! Make you suffer! Beg for me to end it!” You can almost feel the vibration from his powerful growl as it echoes through the street surrounding you. It feels like it’s coming from all around you all at once, leaving you unable to pin his exact direction. 
He continues to growl out angrily, animalistic huffs of pure, raw rage. You think he's circling the both of you. Like a predator stalking its prey. Waiting for his moment to strike. Or maybe, he was building himself up, letting the rage boil up inside of him, working himself up to the point of no return. 
You notice something out of your peripheral, and you instinctively quickly move to dodge out of the way. Just in time for a hulking, mass of metal to come slicing through the fog and collide with the ground with an ear splitting clang. 
Rrollesh roars out as he lifts the weapon again, swinging back at you full force. You’re just able to move back enough for it to just barely miss your chest plate by a hair's width. Too close for comfort. The weapon was brutal, the biggest vibroaxe you had ever seen. The sheer mass of it alone was enough to spark fear in the hearts of many, combined with its gnarled edges, it felt like a weapon of nightmares. The brute strength alone needed to wield it seemed only appropriate for the towering reptilian before you. 
You keep moving back with every one of his powerful swings, dodging becomes more and more difficult with your wound seering in pain with every movement. The Mandalorian fires his blaster at Rrollesh, but despite his size, and the insanity of the weapon he's holding, Rrollesh spins, bringing the flat of the axe up to block the oncoming bolt. How was he so quick? It seems impossible. 
With his attention now turned toward your partner, the hulking Trandoshan makes a charge towards the Mandalorian, seeming to block his oncoming blaster fire with ease. He makes several wide swings, the Mandalorian barely able to dodge himself despite the lack of injury on his part. With every swing Rrollesh lets out a bone chilling growl while he advances on the Mandalorian. 
You attempt to intervene, rushing the absolute mammoth before you, and driving your blade deep in his vulnerable side, left exposed from his wide swings. He barely reacts, and you panic when you attempt to drive it out, only to find your blade is stuck within his tough flesh.
You quickly abandon your blade, and lurch back creating as much space between the two of you as you can. He slowly turns towards you, his scarred eye burning a hole through you, as he snarls, baring his incredible sharp teeth. You think he’s going to make another swing at you, try to bring you to the ground, but he surprises both you and the Mandalorian when he suddenly swings back around bringing his blade down full force on the chrome beskar. 
There’s a terrifying display of color as sparks nearly blind you when the axe makes contact with the beskar. The pure force from the blow sends the Mandalorian flying backwards with a wrecked grunt. You know the power from it had to have hurt, and bad. Probably knocked all of the air from his lungs, and made his head spin. Perhaps he was even knocked unconscious. 
And when he doesn’t get up from the ground, you know you’re right.
Rrollesh wastes no time advancing on him, his intention to finish the job is clear as he stomps over to the weak body of the armored man on the floor. You quickly move to stop him, firing your blaster as rapidly as you can haphazardly, even if only to serve as a distraction long enough for your partner to recover--and move. Quickly. 
Rrollesh turns back to face you, and lets his nightmare of a weapon rest on the ground, dragging it behind him as he rapidly advances towards you. You’ve seen a lot in your time travelling through the galaxy, you’ve experienced the worst of the worst. Hardly anything phases you anymore.
But this?
Rrollesh, and his imposing figure barrelling towards you with such determination--such speed--pure rage apparent in his eyes--as you hauls that massive, hulking, terror of an axe behind him? 
You feel fear. 
Not adrenaline, not the rush of battle--
But for the first time in a long time, you feel pure, bone chilling terror pouring through your veins. 
You don’t even have time to process the ice you feel creeping down your spine as you attempt to fire more rounds at him. Which of course, he manages to block with ease. Just when he gets within distance of you, he swings at you. You manage to dodge, but not quick enough, his swing clips your hand, sending your blaster skittering across the street, and a searing pain shooting through the entirety of your arm, sending you to your knees, clutching your hand in absolute agony. 
You quickly shoot a glance behind the man towering over you. The Mandalorian was still on the floor, but he’s moving. Groaning as he tries to shakily pick himself up from the floor. 
But you shouldn’t have done that.
Because it draws the attention of Rrollesh, who quickly abandons you when he’s reminded of his task to finish him off. Before you can even shout to warn your partner of the impending attack, Rrollesh is already hauling his massive axe into the air. 
Without thinking--without even realizing it, you jump to your feet and activate your whipcord thrower, sending a line of fibercord wrapping around the powerful weapon in Rrollesh’s grasp. You struggle to keep your hold on it, the brute strength from it’s wielder causing your heels to drag lightly beneath you.
He glances at you over his shoulder with an irritated growl and yanks his axe to the side with such a force, it sends you flying forward, and skidding across the duracrete road beneath you. He swings in the opposite direction, dragging you with it as you try your best to keep your hold. You struggle to hold your vambrace steady long enough that you can hit the button.
But as soon as you do, an electric current is suddenly ripping down the length of your fibercord, lighting up around both you and Rrollesh as the bolts of electricity consume his hulking metal axe. He lets out a deafening roar of pain as he releases the weapon, sending it clattering to the ground. You quickly yank it away from him, pulling it far out of his reach.
In a blind fit of rage, Rrollesh goes to grab at the Mandalorian despite not having a weapon, needing some release for his boiling anger. But instead, he’s met with a burst of red hot flame from the mandalorians built in flame thrower. 
Rrollesh stumbles back from the heat, bringing his arms up to shield his face. Leaving him completely distracted and totally exposed. This is your chance. Despite your throbbing pain, you muster up every ounce of your strength to shakily get to your feet, grab your blaster, and quickly come right up behind him. Readying your blaster to fire, once, twice, three times in the back of his scaled head. 
He collapses to the floor with a powerful thud. 
You still have your blaster up as you stand there, trying to steady your breathing. You let your arm drop limply to your side with a deep exhale. It was finally over. You look over to the Mandalorian still on the ground in front of you, his visor fixed to Rrollesh’s dead body as his chest heaves, breathing just as heavy as you. 
You walk over to him, holstering your blaster and clutching your injured side. You hold your free arm out to him, which he takes, and you help haul him up from the floor. 
“See? I told you it would be easy.” You give his shoulder a playful whack as you let out a light chuckle.
He just locks his visor to yours for a second, before dejectedly shaking his head at your antics. 
-------------------------------------------
“Well would you look at that? You actually made it out alive.” Is how the mechanic decides to welcome you back as you and the Mandalorian enter the hangar. 
“How are the repairs coming?” You ask as you approach him.
“They’re done already. Got it done a bit quicker than I thought.” He nods, before looking you up and down, clearly noticing the way you're gripping your side, “You take care of Rrollesh?”
You fish out the credits you pocketed from Rrollesh’s body earlier, and toss them at the mechanic. He catches the hefty bag in pure disbelief. 
“Think those belong to you.” You nod your helmet towards him. He pauses, staring at you for a moment, before quickly opening up the bag and nearly gasping at the amount of credits inside.
“Thank you.” He says finally, hooking the bag onto his belt. “I owe you--this whole town owes you. You’ve done us a huge favor.” You can feel the sincerity in his voice.
“That enough to cover our repairs?” You tease, tilting your helmet to the side. 
“And then some.” He laughs nodding, “You’re lucky I didn’t charge you extra for having to watch that little womp rat.” He notions in the direction of the ship with a tilt of his head. 
You let out a laugh despite the pain from your injury, “Thank you, I know first hand what a pain he can be.” 
“He was good actually. Let him run around the hangar for a bit and he’s been sleeping peacefully ever since.” The mechanic crosses his arms in front of his chest, “Next time you find yourself in this sector, stop by. I’ll give you a tune up on me.” 
The Mandalorian speaks up this time as he passes you to board the ship, “I’ll hold you to that.” And then he’s already up the ramp and you and the mechanic watch as he disappears into the hull. 
“Until next time.” You give the mechanic a final nod before you head up the ramp yourself, “And hey, get yourself some new droids, you deserve it!” You exchange a wave before closing the ramp to the ship. 
It doesn’t take long before you feel the ship rumble to life beneath you as you grab yourself a medkit. You situate yourself on a crate, and begin working at removing your armor as the ship takes off into the familiar confines of space. 
By the time you finish applying a healthy dose of bacta, and are working to wrap a thick bandage around your middle, the Mandalorian has already made the jump into hyperspace, and is descending the ladder of the cockpit to join you in the hull. 
He doesn’t acknowledge you at all as he makes his way to the alcove and opens the compartment to check on the kid. You barely make a glance at him, too busy tending to your own wounds as he scoops the sleeping child up into his arms. 
“Shouldn’t wake him” You warn, not lifting your gaze from your work as you fasten your bandages. He practically ignores you, not saying anything as he gives Grogu a light stroke to his forehead, drawing out the smallest of coos from the sleepy bundle. The Mandalorian is careful as he moves to take a seat on a crate opposite from you, cradling the child in his arms. 
It was amazing to you, the striking contrast of the powerful bounty hunter, and how soft he was for this child. He clearly cared deeply for the little thing, a vulnerability you never would have expected. 
“How are your wounds?” The Mandalorian asks quietly, lifting his gaze from the child to address you. 
“Nothing some bacta can’t fix. Like I said, I’ve seen worse.” You shrug as you readjust your undershirt.
“Good.” Is all he says in return, and fixes his gaze back on the child. 
You watch the two of them, unabashedly. Nearly enjoying the silence after today. But then you remember the realization you had earlier before the fight.
“Thanks for helping me with the job.” You finally speak out, rolling your head back to release some of the tension in your neck, “couldn’t have done it without you.” You admit quietly. 
“And uh…” You start, and he lifts his helmet again, tilting his visor slightly as he waits for you to finish, “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” His voice is quiet, clearly trying not to wake the child. 
“For how I acted back on Coruscant.” 
“It’s fine.” He dismisses you, before you even get the chance to elaborate. This clearly wasn’t bothering him as much as it was bothering you. 
“It’s not fine.” You give him a stern look, “We accepted the job together, I should have been working with you not against you. And I definitely shouldn’t have put it all on you when things went south.” He looks back up to you, but doesn’t say anything. What could he even really say? 
“That was a tough job for me...,” You continue after a long silence between the two of you , “And I let my own insecurities get the best of me. So I’m sorry. I-I havent…,” You hesitate, taking a moment to figure out how you want to word this, “...It’s been awhile since I’ve worked with anyone else so try to bear with me while I get back into the swing of things.” 
The Mandalorian doesn’t say anything at first. He stands and gently puts the child back into his hammock in the alcove and shuts the door. You honestly don’t think he’s going to say anything, just leave your sincerity hanging in the air. 
“I’m surprised by your insecurity.” He surprises you when he does speak. Not only because he spoke, but because that's definitely not at all the response you were expecting. 
“What do you mean?” You ask, tilting your head at him confused by his odd response. 
“You said you let your insecurities get the best of you, I'm surprised. What are you insecure about?” He settles back down in his previous spot on the crate opposite to you, his visor settling right on your gaze.
You hesitate, you're not sure you're ready to divulge such sensitive information to a man who, before today, you couldn’t stand to be around. Something in you decides you owe it to him, an explanation for your behavior, it's part of your apology. 
“About being a good hunter.” You finally admit after far too long. And he just tilts his helmet at you, an unspoken urge for you to explain further.
“I only got into the business a few years ago.” You confess, “I’m constantly worried I’m not good enough for the job.” 
“You had a commission price double what mine was for the same quarry, and you worry you’re not good enough?” He sounds genuinely curious, not like he’s judging at all, and honestly you're thankful for it.
“That's just it. I…” You trail off again and scan the floor as you search for your words. How much do you want to divulge here exactly? You take a deep breath before starting again, “My husband, he's the one who taught me everything I know. He’s the reason I got into the guild. I had never even been off the surface of my home planet before him.” You explain, avoiding eye contact with his visor, which is still locked on you intently as you speak, “And he-- now he was a good hunter. He already had a reputation, I was just sort of...in the shadow of it. I get the good commissions because of his reputation, because of his skill.” You sigh, and finally work up the courage to look back at his visor, “I guess I’m just worried I’m just simply riding his success instead of living up to it.” 
You feel so awkward, talking about this. It feels strange, unnatural. Especially with not being able to see the face of the Mandalorian in front of you. You can’t gauge his reactions at all, and it only works to make you more nervous as you spill your feelings out to him.
“With how you fought today I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”
It’s such a small thing, his response. Just one sentence, one short simple sentence. But somehow, it struck you. It catches you off guard how much that one, simple sentence actually means to you. How could he have possibly known the perfect thing to say to you, when you didn’t even know it yourself? It was somehow perfectly reassuring without being belittling. There's so much to unpack, not only is he saying he thinks you fought well today, but that you fought well enough you were deserving of your status within the guild, even without your husband's presence. 
And maybe--maybe it’s not actually that deep. Maybe you’re simply putting your own meaning into his words where there isn’t any meaning at all, but stars, regardless if that's the case or not, that sentence means everything to you right now. 
You suddenly realize you’ve been staring at him dumbly in silence this whole time. You quickly try to compose yourself, clearing your throat and averting your gaze. 
“Thank you.” You finally muster out, trying to play it cool. He just nods. 
“Oh, before I forget.” He gets up to grab his go-bag, the one he was carrying the child in earlier, “Here, this is for you.” He rummages in the bag for a moment and pulls out some kind of wrapped paper bundle, handing it to you. 
You take it from him hesitantly and utterly confused. You carefully begin to unwrap the paper, and gasp at the sight you reveal. 
It’s food, real--honest to maker food. 
Some kind of fried pastries, it definitely wasn’t fresh anymore, but stars, did it look delicious regardless. 
“The kid liked those best” He says casually, like he didn’t just give you the most perfect gift you could have ever asked for.
But that's just it, you didn’t ask for this. How did he know how badly you had been craving this all kriffing day? This is the one thing you’ve been wanting more than anything else since you landed on Utrost, and he just handed it to you, wrapped up, as a gift. Because the kid liked it best? 
Maybe he really had no idea, just bought it on a whim and it just happened to be the perfect gift. Just like he just happened to know the perfect thing to say to you about feeling insecure. You feel like you’re about to lose your mind. Who the hell was this guy? 
“Thank you.” Is all you can manage once again. You feel like a fool struggling this much over some street food. 
He simply nods at you before he’s taking his leave to the cockpit, leaving you alone once again in the hull of the ship to indulge in your food in peace. 
The second you take a bite, pure bliss radiates to every inch of your body. You nearly groan at how absolutely fantastic it tastes, and it's no surprise to you that this was the kids favorite. Maker, you can only imagine how much better it would have tasted fresh. Maybe it’s because this was the first bite of something other than a ration pack you’ve had in weeks, but you swear, this was the best thing you had ever tasted in the galaxy. 
Maybe partnering up with this Mandalorian wasn’t such a bad idea after all.  **** Previous - MASTER - Next
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fific7 · 4 years ago
Text
Dangerous and Divine - Part 3
Billy Russo x Reader
Summary: Billy Russo is an itch you don’t want to scratch. But he’s all over you like a rash.
A/N: This does not follow canon, it’s mainly lemon zest 🍋 The GIF is from Exposed, unreleased pilot show in case you’re wondering 😌... Billy vibes.
Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content including oral sex, between consenting adults. Some drinking & swearing.
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(My GIF)
“Nothing to see here,” you muttered and scooted across the café as quickly as you could, heading for the sanctuary of your office.
Closing the door firmly behind you and heading straight to your fancy CEO swivel chair, you sat down and shakily placed your hands flat on the desk. You took some deep breaths. That stupid big idiot and his BDE! How dare he kiss you like that in front of everyone.
And even worse, leaving you all hot and flustered like some kid who’s never been kissed before! Let’s be honest, that’s what was really getting to you... he hadn’t actually bent you over the counter and fucked you, but by your reaction he might as well have.
How ridiculous, you told yourself sternly, get a grip! You put your forehead on the desk’s cool surface. They’d all been staring at you, and you could feel your face heating up again at the thought of them watching Billy kiss you really quite passionately. And you melting like a complete fool in the process.
After a couple of hours hiding out in your office, you knew you’d have to face the music sooner or later and made your way back down to the café. The regulars, you saw, had gone by now so that was something but by the mischievous looks on your co-workers’ faces, you knew you were in for some serious teasing.
You made your way over to one of the two monster Gaggia coffee machines in the café and started making yourself a cappuccino. “Anyone want one?” you asked over your shoulder. Jake said he’d have one too, but the other two passed. You could just feel their curiosity crackling through the air like electricity. They were of course fully aware of the Ex and that whole daytime soap plot, but were just about losing their shit as they didn’t know anything about this hot dude, who’d walked in to the café and kissed you like he knew you extremely well.
You handed Jake his coffee and helped yourself to a danish cinnamon pastry - yeah, eating the profits again - munching into it and then pointing at your staff members with it. “Okay, guys. Here it is. In its entirety. I went to little cousin’s cocktail party last night as you know, and met the guy who was in here earlier. We left the party, went for a couple of drinks elsewhere, he drove me home, I got out of his car and he drove away. Like, immediately I got out.”
You really didn’t feel the need to mention the kiss he’d stolen before you got out of his car.
Gabrielle’s mouth fell open, “You met him last night???” The implication being that A) how was that possible and B) where did that kiss come from if you hadn’t slept with him? You sighed, taking another bite of pastry. “Yes! And as I’ve just told you,” you looked around to make sure there weren’t any customers in earshot, “he did not stay the night, okay? He didn’t even get out of his car.”
“It’s just that it looked a bit ...” Steve trailed off nervously. “Well...umm... friendly... for someone you’ve only just met,” finished Jake. You nodded. “I’m aware of that. What you saw there was the Billy Russo Show, done purely to embarrass me. He’s a cocky big shit. And trying to get me to go out with him.” “Are you going to?” asked Gabrielle. “Oh, hell yes! Wouldn’t you?” Jake almost got whiplash, he nodded so emphatically, “Yes. Yes, I would.” You all had a good laugh at that.
»»————————————-———- ⚜ ———————————-————-««
There were only 2 days to go until Friday, and you found yourself panicking. What to wear, what to wear? OK, after mentally reviewing your wardrobe you decided that a shopping trip was in order.
Hanging up your new purchase in the wardrobe, you felt pleased with your choice. Nothing too flashy - you weren’t sure of the venue, so went with smart/casual - a sleek navy number, wraparound style, mid-thigh length and showing only a hint of cleavage. Less is more right?
Teamed with a pair of metallic navy heels, it would be fine. You hoped. What if he was taking you somewhere really low-key? Oh well, you shrugged, if you ended up looking a bit like Cinders at the ball in some local pizzeria, so be it.
Jake and the others were still buzzing about your upcoming date, in fact you’d eventually asked them if they wanted to come along too. They’d at least had the decency to look guilty, but only a little. You were sure that if they found out where you two were headed, they’d follow you. You decided you’d better check for shadowy figures tailing you on Friday night.
»»————————————-———- ⚜ ———————————-————-««
8pm on the dot, the buzzer sounded in your apartment, Billy’s voice announcing that he was downstairs. You were not quite ready, still had a couple of tweaks to make so buzzed him up. He strolled in as you opened the door, leaning in for a kiss to which you turned your head, so it landed on your cheek. “Lipstick!” you trilled, moving back towards the bathroom. “I won’t be long, have a seat. You’re looking good, Russo, by the way.” “Thanks,” you heard his voice from the other room, “and you’re looking absolutely gorgeous, sweetheart.”
You’d felt happier when you saw that he was also smart/casual.... what looked like a cashmere burgundy sweater over black jeans, with a leather jacket. He looked edible.
When you emerged back into the living room five minutes later - a veritable vision in navy, you mockingly smirked to yourself - Billy Russo was nowhere in sight. You stopped in your tracks, and then heard a drawer opening in your bedroom. You walked through to it, just in time to see Billy picking up a pair of your lacy silk panties out of your underwear drawer.
“Russo!” you yelled, “put those back, you perv!” He slid the smooth fabric between his long fingers, grinning devilishly at you. “Mmmmm, are you wearin’ something similar right now?” Before you could stop yourself, you bit back, “Who says I’m wearing any at all?” His eyes widened, a big grin appearing on his face. “Oh, really? Wanna prove it?” “No!” you replied, knowing your face was scarlet, “just forget I said that. I’m joking with you.” He shook his head, “Yeah, like I’m goin’ to get that image out of my head anytime soon.”
“Let’s go, Billy,” you said, walking to the front door and pulling on your own leather jacket. “Hey, we’re matching,” he laughed, pointing between your jacket and his, “ain’t that sweet!” “It’s creepy, actually. Matching clothes? Vomit-inducing.” He laughed, “You’re funny.” “No, I’m just not some soppy sappy woman who’s going to fall at your feet, Russo.” He took your hand as you closed and locked your front door, and the two of you headed for the stairs.
“Yeah, I’d kinda got that vibe already,” he grinned at you, “but it doesn’t matter, I know I’m gonna get you in the end.” “Just keep on telling yourself that,” you snarked back.
Looking at the back of his head as he walked down the stairs in front of you, you really wanted to run your fingers through that hair but managed to keep your hands to yourself.
Fastening your seat belt, back in the gleaming Wraith, you watched Billy’s fingers as he fastened his and then placed his hands on the steering wheel. You mentally shook yourself, you were beginning to fantasise about different parts of his body and you’d better snap out of it, you told yourself.
»»————————————-———- ⚜ ———————————-————-««
He took you to a really nice Italian restaurant, not too posh, just nice and relaxed with friendly staff and really good food. The conversation from the night in the bar was picked up where it left off, each of you adding more and varied information. You learned that Frank had sadly lost his wife and kids when they innocently got caught up in a savage gang war gun battle. Billy told you that his friend had gone off the rails for a while, but had recently met a lovely lady called Karen and they’d started dating. He was really pleased for him, as he’d been so worried about him for a while. You thought you’d quite like to meet Frank sometime.
You told him something more of your life, thankfully not involving assault and cheating ex-boyfriends this time. He’d been fascinated and truly appreciative of the struggle you’d had to get your business off the ground, saying that he’d been lucky in having a major investor lined up before he’d even left the Marines.
You saw a dark look flit over his face for a moment, but then it cleared and he went on to ask you more questions about your business. You’d both chatted easily together until it was almost midnight, and you’d become “that couple” who were the last ones in the restaurant. You realised that, when he dropped the ‘Billy Big Dick’ nonsense, you really enjoyed his company and felt that you two had clicked even more this evening.
He drove away from the restaurant, and it took you a few minutes to notice that he wasn’t driving the route to your apartment. “Billy,” you sighed, “are we heading to your place by any chance?” That damn smirk was back on his face. “Yeah,” he said, “I’ve seen yours, so now you can see mine.” ”Oh, ha bloody ha. I’m not sleeping with you, you know.” A grin appeared on his lips as you glanced across at his profile, illuminated by each passing streetlight. “Just keep on tellin’ yourself that, sweetheart,” he replied mockingly. You laughed out loud, “You cheeky big bastard.”
»»————————————-———- ⚜ ———————————-————-««
His apartment was everything you would’ve expected - open plan, with modern, sleek furnishings and decor in dark masculine colours. You settled yourself onto the large sofa, and he headed to the kitchen area; a moment later, you heard wine being poured then his tall figure reappeared, holding the two wine glasses. He handed one to you, and you took a sip - it was very good wine. “So, Billy... I’m guessing your li’l batchelor pad here sees quite a lot of action, and not the type you saw in the Marines, huh?”
That smirk. He sat down next to you, hand going to rest on your shoulder and playing with a strand of your hair. His expression became serious, “No. I don’t bring women back here.”
You scoffed, “Oh come on, Billy... you’re...” then you stopped, looking away from him. “I’m what?” You shook your head. “C’mon, what were you going to say?” “Never mind. Well, if you don’t bring them here, let me guess... you go to their place and disappear before the morning light?” He shifted uncomfortably on the sofa, breaking eye contact with you. “Okay... that, I can’t deny. How did you guess? And what were you going to say before?”
Oh to hell with it, you thought.
“I was going to say... you’re hot, Billy. So obviously - unless you’ve got a problem down there and need some little blue pills...” his eyebrows rose, his mouth dropping open slightly before he started grinning, “...you won’t be a saint and you’re more than likely a player.”
He leaned in towards you, eyes staring deep into yours, “Firstly, I have no problems with my equipment in any way shape or form,” ....smirk... “it’s in perfect workin’ order. And I’d be more than happy to prove that to you.” His lips met yours in a kiss, quickly growing heated. He pulled away, making eye contact again, “And you’re right, I’m no saint. A player? Yeah, maybe. But I can be a saint for you, if you want me to be.”
“But that wouldn’t be the real Billy Russo, would it?” His eyes were still on you. You carried on, “Look, I’ll level with you. I like you - when you’re not wearing your BDE persona. It’s a total clichè, but I really don’t intend to be just another notch on your no-doubt designer bedframe.”
He smiled at you, “I get it, I really do.” He trailed a finger along your cheekbone, “I wouldn’t be tryin’ to be someone I’m not. I just meant that I like you too, and I feel comfortable dropping the persona with you.” You smiled back. “OK, but Billy?” “Yeah?” “I’m still not sleeping with you.”
Laughing, “Oh, yeah?” pulling you against his chest, a hand going to your cheek as he kissed you long and hard. Breaking away, hand on his chest, you whispered, “Yeah...”
»»————————————-———- ⚜ ———————————-————-««
Billy was poised above you, looking down at you as if you were something he wanted to devour. Your clothes had joined his on the bedroom floor a little while ago; you were both lying on his very large bed, and yes it was designer-made - you’d asked him.
He gently pushed aside a strand of your hair, before kissing your lips. His mouth then made its way slowly but surely down to your neck and collarbone, and you felt little nips on your skin before his tongue licked your skin slowly. He moved slightly lower and sucked your nipples while his hands were busy massaging your breasts. Your hands moved to his broad shoulders, pulling him down further so you could feel more of his skin against yours.
You heard a chuckle, “So yeah, I guess you really aren’t gonna sleep with me after all, huh?” You shifted out slightly from under his body, “Shut up Billy, and put this to good use,” letting your fingers trail down to his hard length. You slid your fingers around it and gave his tip a firm squeeze. His breath hissed between his lips, and those big hands pulled you back underneath him. “Don’t worry, I was gonna.” You smirked, “I confess I was impressed when I saw what you were packing,” another squeeze, another hiss, his mouth on your neck, “but actions speak louder than words.”
He laughed, “Be careful what you wish for, sweetheart.” Deciding to head for the mother lode, you gave him one last squeeze, firmer than before, sniggering as his hips shot forward. “Same to you,” you said, before sliding your hands into his silky hair at last. Running your fingers right back through it, you sighed out loud and grabbed a handful with each of yours, and tugged. “I see you like my hair,” he smirked.
You leant forward and kissed him, hard. He groaned, kissing you back even harder. Then your hands ran over the muscles of his chest, down the trail of hairs on his lower stomach, before grabbing his cock and wrapping your fingers round it. He growled, “And what ya gonna do with that, sweetheart?” You began stroking him firmly, “This.... until you decide to get off your ass and do something.”
He laughed out loud, and suddenly his hand was between your legs, his thumb on your clit, rubbing hard. His lips at your ear, whispering, “Something like this?” and you felt a long finger plunging into you, swiftly joined by a second one. He began sliding them in and out, curling them, and it had an instant effect on you, your breath hitching. “Billy,” you sighed, your hand stilling momentarily on his length. You heard his low chuckle, and he increased his pace. Okay smartass, you thought, and gave his tip a very firm squeeze. “Aahhh!” you heard, and gave him another one for good measure. “You minx,” he laughed, then picked up pace with his fingers again. Then they were gone from you, and you saw him moving his head downwards, hands moving to your hips, his tongue replacing his fingers. He was lapping at you, his thumb back on your clit, and now you really were in trouble.
You grabbed his shoulders, digging your nails in, beginning to writhe on the bed, and then his fingers were back, sliding in next to his tongue. The combination of thumb, tongue and fingers was like an incendiary bomb going off in your core, and you could feel your climax building by the second. His pace increased and that was it, the explosion happened and you now grabbed his head like a vice, keeping him where he was as the aftershocks of your orgasm washed over you in waves. Very pleasurable waves. Finally, you released his head and you saw his dark eyes meet yours, a satisfied glint in them. “That was only number one, angel,” he grinned, “fasten your seat belt.” “Cocky bastard. And I’m an angel now, am I?” He moved up and back over you, hands sliding up your body.
“For sure,” kissing your neck, nipping the skin lightly with his teeth. “And I’m so lucky, havin’ one in my bed.” He sat up, opening a drawer in his bedside table, scrabbling around until he produced a condom, unwrapping it and holding your gaze as he rolled it on.
His hands moved to your breasts, palming them then circling his thumbs over your nipples as they peaked once again. You grabbed that hair of his again, little gasps making their way between your lips. Your feet were flat on the mattress, knees either side of his thighs and you felt his hand moving down, then the head of his cock was between your legs, edging its way in. Billy thrust right inside you, and there were loud groans from you both as he sunk in. “Mmmm...” he kissed you, tongue diving into your mouth, then he pulled away, gazing at you, “you don’t know just how good you feel around me.” You shifted a bit, rolling your hips to his, “About as good as you feel inside me.”
A low growl, then he was moving on you, fast right from the get-go, his thrusts forcing a moan from you on each stroke. Your legs moved - seemingly of their own accord - around his hips, and this new angle obviously pleased both of you, as the noises the two of you made got even louder. You felt him deep inside you, and every time you squeezed and held him there, he actually whimpered.
“Good puppy!” you managed to gasp out, hearing an answering snort of laughter from him. “I am not...” he gasped back at you between thrusts, “...a fuckin’ puppydog, sweetheart.” “But Billy, you’ve got those big brown eyes ...” your own eyes closed at a particularly forceful thrust, “...and you are fucking me, so...”
His only answer this time was to pull one of your legs higher onto his back, thrusting deep as he did, and then his hand cupped your breast and massaged it hard. That shut you up.
His fingers were at your inflamed core again and then he was rubbing at your clit, making your back arch with sheer pleasure. He was switching between kissing you hungrily and nipping and sucking love bites onto your collarbone. Thank god he wasn’t targeting your neck, you thought, that would look so professional at work. You, meanwhile, were over-indulging in your obsession with his hair, running it back off his forehead with your fingers and tugging on it to your heart’s content.
Finally your over-pleasured body couldn’t take any more, and your climax hit you like a truck. Your nails dug into his muscled shoulders, grabbing him in a death grip and a small scream of “Billy!” exited your open mouth. You felt him give a few sharp thrusts, realising that he was about to come; you heard your name, then a long groan and he released his warm seed into you. He sunk down onto you, kissing you softly but with passion, long fingers laying gently along your jaw and neck as he did so.
“Angel....” he sighed.
»»————————————-———- ⚜ ———————————-————-««
@blackbirddaredevil23
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shouldntcryoverit · 4 years ago
Text
the art of discordance
captain rex x jedi!reader
previous chapter
masterlist
CHAPTER TEN
Hope you enjoy! Might start this series up again so let me know what you’d like to see and if you’d like to be tagged! 💕
———————————————————————
Jaida’s feet felt weighted as she plodded along the corridor. In fact her entire body did. She needed caf and, among other things, she needed peace and quiet.
But alas, as is the way of war, she’d have to settle with yet another delinquent briefing, which would most likely result in another mission for her to loose herself in. How fun.
Peace wasn’t an option as of right now, but caf certainly was. So as any ordinary Jedi going through dramatic changes to their moral code while fighting a war which had so far gone against everything they had ever been taught by their now dead master; Jaida went and got caf.
Now she stood outside the war room, significantly late, but with a half drunk cup in her hand. On any regular day, she would’ve surely rushed in; profoundly apologising for her misconduct and directing all her attention to any matters presented to make up for her tardiness.
But instead she stood and stared at the uninspiring, off-white and dented plastoid door with almost a scowl. After a second, she took a swig and entered.
“Jaida! I was wondering if you had gotten lost.” Obi-wan smiled warmly. There was a hint of a jeer in his aristocratic tone.
“Oh force I really am late aren’t I?” She tried to laugh, setting down her cup on a surface she’d found (ignoring the future ring it would leave), snapping into a character that would resemble her more awake self.
“What’ve I missed?” Jaida asked as she settled into place beside Anakin and across from Obi-wan.
The holo-projector before her displayed the usual; a barren-ish landscape with red dots across it, symbolising places she’d most likely have to risk her and her men’s lives before moving onto the next tiny red dot.
It felt fallacious to belittle that sacrifice to so little as those red dots, especially when they’d been planted like seeds as if they’re cost was unimportant. To Jaida, red dots had begun to look more like casualty reports and defeated medics; so much more than a speck on a map in a heated war room in the middle of comfortable Coruscant.
But as is the way of war, she thought.
“After the failure to capture Grievous on Salucami, we know his ships will be in this western quadrant.” Obi-wan gestured now to the map of the galaxy, the holo map had apparently changed as Jaida was blinking, and more specifically to a highlighted section of space.
Her red dots would be minuscule by now.
“Our fear is that with Grievous now in need of a place to get fuel and rations, he’ll attempt to take-over ,in effect, the next planet viable. Which in this case” The holomap zoomed into a reddish planet with a dark brown hue surrounding it, “Would be Yeon.”
“Yeon?” Jaida asked. “What’s on Yeon that Grievous could want?”
Obiwan shifted his weight before speaking. Jaida sighed; sometimes she really did regret asking questions so much, especially when the answer require a deep breath.
“Yeon used to be home to a powerful empire, though the dissolution of said empire left the planet vulnerable and corrupt. The wealth still remains, but without proper safeguarding. It isn’t unlikely that Grievous hopes to exploit this, and use their land and people to help secure more galactic wins.” He finished with a flourish. He did always make good speeches, however short or dull.
Jaida shivered. The thought of such peaceful people once again being used as pawns in the seperatist game made her stomach turn. Is this what the galaxy had come to? Perhaps that question could be answered another day.
Anakin, who had up until this point been studying his friends demeanour and desperately trying to figure out the reason for her obvious lack of clarity, spoke next.
“Our mission is to intercept their ‘invasion’ and protect the people of Yeon before Grievous can even reach them.”
“Huh, fun.” She clicked.
A few more details were flattened out, though they mostly fell on deaf ears as Jaida replayed the events of that morning.
“We’ll leave tonight, get a head start.”
Great, she thought.
The corridor felt like it would never end as Jaida carried a backpack towards her destination. It was half full of ration packs and bacta supplies: in short she had no clue what to pack for. The feeling of unpreparedness sat heavy on her chest, even as she commed Anakin to meet her in the hanger.
As she did, Echo opened the door for her, between beckoning to Hardcase that his helmet was where he’d left it. Jaida almost laughed at how mumsy Echo got the few hours before a mission; it almost matched Kix’s mother hen approach.
“Where’re we up to?” Jaida asked, hesitantly setting down the bag beside her feet as she looked over the clones all preparing for a mission.
Echo smiled softly, giving one last side eye to his dazed brothers before giving her his full attention “Almost ready.”
“Thank you.” She could always count on Echo, and a warmth spread over her expression, secure in that fact. “Where’s-“
“Hullo!” The other jedi spoke through a cracker in his mouth. “You good?”
“Where’d you get that cracker?”
Anakin swallowed. Echo had to suppress his laughter at how much they resembled begrudging siblings.
“Help me with those crates and I’ll show you.” He shrugged off, beckoning for Jaida to follow his path.
The good news was the Hardcase had managed to locate his stranded helmet, and Fives only laughed for a few minute at how he almost cried that he’d thought he’d lost it: but the bad news was that Jaida realised that she would eventually have to talk to her captain, who was standing by the edge of the hangar with Kix.
He’d showered, and his pauldron was fixed. He looked so perfectly in control as he watchfully peered over his men. Jaida felt childish almost instantly at the anxiety balled in her stomach at just the thought of having to look at his deep and piercing eyes to talk to him. This was that feeling ‘crushes’ gave you, as Anakin would explain, and Jaida didn’t get ‘crushes’. Not ever, and not now.
She began to help the clones prepare what few weapons they thought they needed. There wasn’t much to sort out and load up, but still among the Torrent company; it was a grand feat.
Jaida was counting reloads and ration packs when she sensed him. Rex, as you could quite obviously expect, was coming closer. She exhaled fiercely out of her nose and picked up the crate she’d been kneeling over. “He’s just being a captain, just be a General.” She repeated to herself like a mantra.
But when she looked up and his gaze was already on her, she froze; childish and with a crush.
“You’re coming too?” Jaida cleared her throat and asked nonchalantly, trying desperately hard to prevent a redness forming on her cheeks.
“Of course.” Rex spoke flatly. His eyebrow twitched slightly as the words left his lips, perhaps testing her meaning.
“But you’re still injured.”
Now he did raise an eyebrow, “I’ll be fine.”
Jaida kissed her teeth, slightly annoyed at her inability to calm herself now.
She nodded as no words formed on her tongue. Nothing to express the ball of emotion in her throat. The Jedi didn’t meet his eyes as she turned away.
Rex caught her arm as she went to bring her crate to the ship, but even as he stopped her pivot she was reluctant to meet his gaze.
“Jaida-” He tried.
“Don’t.” Jaida cut him off, finally glaring at him, then quickly skimming over the room to check if anyone was noticing their ‘conversation’.
“Just promise me.” Vulnerability flashed across her face as the words left her mouth, and even those crystallised amber eyes of his couldn’t make her believe he would.
Rex bit his lip and flicked back over his men across the room, before looking back at Jaida’s ask. He nodded slowly, accepting that he’d want the exact same if it were her. Whatever it was that they shared really wasn’t simple.
“I promise.”
She smiled slightly, before he let her go and she walked off to the ship.
The company left not long after, but not before Anakin and Jaida managed to bicker over who should fly the ship, then if they’d brought the right rations, then whether or not they were ready. At least it was entertaining for the clones to watch their General’s be so relaxed yet so uppity.
But nonetheless, the company all fitted into their respective places and the ship left. Jaida, after bribing Anakin, was flying the ship. She thought that it’d help her concentrate ready for the next mission, although it did also mean that she wouldn’t have to talk to anyone - so, plus.
The journey was rather short, but it certainly wasn’t sweet; for each time Jaida didn’t have to plant coordinates or watch the pressure levels in the engine, her mind slipped to the events of that morning, over and over again like torture. The guilt and worry pressed heavily against her frame; it was fair to say she was absentminded.
But they made it.
“I think we’re here boys.” Skywalker spoke over the channels.
The landing wasn’t rough, but Jaida’s vision through the ship window was too clouded to navigate properly through the thick air. The ship rocked as it hit the ground, and as the men filed our, their pilot was reluctant to follow.
The company gathered outside, Anakin knocked her shoulder; something he always used to do if she was nervous before a practice or exam. It made her finally exhale the breath she’d been holding onto.
It was dark when they made it to the village: a small dwelling lit with vibrant lights around each hut and structure. There was a hum in the air of content, they were peaceful people, and their laughter and chatter floated through the company like a warm drink.
Jaida wanted to welcome it, she really did, but she couldn’t, not when her head was this scrambled. She was still tired, and still torn between wanting to stay true to her morals and protect Rex, as well as desperately wanting to give in to her heart.
Mind over matter, her master would say. Though it seemed futile now.
Jaida followed her men into the village and tried once more to be content with the sweetness of the air. The sun was hanging low in the sky, but it still illuminated the tops of houses and slopes of hills in spite of the darkening hue encroaching. It was peace, the very kind she needed. Yet it would not breach her armoured skin.
The clones had managed to settle in rather quickly, having now taken off a few bits of armour and their helmets. They were standing and laughing with locals dotted about a wide fire pit, an area which Jaida took to be the market place.
After a cheer of babbling and exuberance calling for them, drums began playing in the background as entertainment; and the villagers seemed excited to have new guests for what looked like the first time in a while. They passed out food to the solidiers, colours of orange and green mixing on platters of fruits and perfectly cooked meat. After having a drank a few of their offered drinks, of which their alcohol quantity was unknown, Fives, Jesse and Hardcase danced to the beat as Echo and Kix tried not to laugh.
Jaida watched with an absent grin. She was resting on a crate with a cup of some sweet drink she’d been given by a swirling child, happy to see them so relaxed. Her view shifted from the gaggle of men to her Captain, who was laughing handsomely at his brothers’ feeble attempts. She tried to ignore the pounding in her stomach growing at how his face was illuminated so perfectly by the evening sun, and how it made her tongue swell to see him aswell so at peace. But it was rather difficult to ignore, especially when she couldn’t not-look.
Jaida placed her cup beside her and backed away, leaving the dancing and laughter behind her.
She found herself in the main hall of their largest structure, eyes closed in her own attempt at peace. She could still taste the wafting smell of meats and breads being cooked just a little further away. It smelt like herbs and spices she remembered only faintly from her own travels with her master. Jaida stood, staring at the painting on the closest wall to her when she wasn’t instead focused on her closed eyelids. Her brain was too foggy for anything else.
It was silent. Of course the base of the drums and the echoes of her men and their hosts still made their way in and out of the open windows, but it was silent to her. So silent that when footsteps began behind her she almost jumped.
The presence made it’s way to just a step behind her and paused. It didn’t take a genius to figure out who it belonged to, but still, Jaida cursed her abilities to identify the warmth and security it brought nonetheless.
“You left?“ Rex’s tone was more a question than a statement, and Jaida didn’t open her eyes as he stepped and stood next to her.
“I needed to think without Fives’ dancing distracting me.” She joked in a low tone.
“You call that dancing?”
Jaida chuckled lightly at that, meeting his smiling eyeline.
A moment of warmth spread between the two. It was as if the complications of their feelings melted away for a few seconds, and both simply relished the presence of each other. But it was short lived.
“I cant think either.”
Her eyebrows were knitted in slight pain and sadness, something he recognised within his own head. She couldn’t speak.
“Do you regret it?” Rex broke the silence between them.
“What?”
“The other night.”
Jaida paused loudly, but spoke with force after a second passed. “No. I don’t. ”
Silence again.
“I don’t know what to do to make this… better.” Jaida admitted, the vulnerability in her voice making her cringe.
Jaida sighed and fixed her almost tearful expression back to that familiar neutral coldness. “I don’t even understand it.” She almost whispered.
“Neither do I.” His words were barely there. “I don’t think anyone ever does.”
“Then how do you know it’s real?” Jaida swallowed, blinking down her rising dejection.
Rex paused again, but spoke with purpose. He had been brave before, now was no different.
“Because whenever you enter the room it feels like time stops. I always look for you, like seeing you will change everything. And you know what, it does; everything stops.”
Jaida was shocked to hear the confession, and it made her heart melt when she turned to face him. His face was just as creased as hers; just as pained.
He studied her eyes for a second, almost asking for permission to continue, or even to be dared to do so. But he took in a breath and carried on:
“I knew it when we were stuck in that cave, and you fell asleep against the wall. All I could think of was how perfect you looked. Force, I don’t think you’ve ever left my head since.”
She smiled. A wilful smile that covered all of her stern face. She knew that feeling he described and it made her stomach erupt as he spoke of it.
Her words fell as a whisper once again. “I can’t ask you to risk your entire life on this. But you can’t tell how much I want to.” She spoke louder now.
Rex’s eyes softened.
“We’re at war, Jade. Some things are just worth it.” Rex paused and looked to her. Her eyes held a silent beg. “You’re worth it.” He wanted to say, but didn’t. Perhaps a part of him knew that he didn’t need to.
In the dim light, he could hardly see her face at all, but the peace that had spread across it was blindingly clear. Jaida blinked.
And Rex closed the small gap between their faces and pressed his lips against hers; tender and gentle yet proud, as if it was their first. He lifted his hand to cup her face and she melted into his touch, allowing the warmth of his mouth to thaw the cold of her heart. The kiss was acceptance, it was emotion and it was thrill.
“I’m in if you’re in.” He demurred with lighthearted intention.
Jaida smiled softly, joy in her eyes that Rex only caught glimpses of, but she caught his lips in feeble ecstasy.
She broke away with a dainty smile, and Rex laughed.
“I’m in.” The jedi whispered.
He grinned again, wider now as a perfect laugh fell from Jaida’s perfect lips.
His fingers dropped from her cheek and found hers without question, taking her hand in his as he refused to break away from her hopeful eyes.
Rex squeezed her hand, then jolted, taking her with him as he ran out of the hall and back to where the music still rumbled.
Jaida let him whisk her away, gladly.
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idyllicstarker · 4 years ago
Note
here's a Christmas prompt for you ;) how do you feel about Peter telling Tony he won't be home in time for Christmas (maybe he's on a trip? at MIT?) but then showing up on Christmas to surprise Tony
I may have turned the prompt a little, but I hope it’s still close to what you asked for 💖
***
Warnings: none
“I was thinking we could maybe watch Elf, tomorrow - Christmas Eve is for cheesy Christmas films after all.”
Peter’s apprehensive gaze eyed the screen on his laptop, completely illuminated by Tony’s face. It was evident by how timid the question was, he knew his suggestion was a long shot - he didn’t want to make Tony anymore mad then he already seemed, but he also didn’t want the holidays to be a complete bummer because of his own faults.
Tony looked up, presumably from his work bench in the lab, eyes settling on the grainy pixels that made up Peter. He had a blanket wrapped around him, having expressed many times that the heater in the dorm pretty much did nothing at all. Tony could tell he was sad. He could tell he felt guilty at not being able to be there over Christmas. But it didn’t mean Tony felt any better about the whole ordeal.
“You’re really expecting to be able to stream and video chat with me at the same time - with your crappy wifi?”, Tony asked, looking back down to whatever work he was completing.
Peter should be used to the man getting distracted during their evening calls. Most of the time Peter didn’t have his camera on anyway, not when his roommate, Harley, was around. But that didn’t stop the pang of hurt in his chest upon seeing Tony so nonchalant about it.
“Well I don’t think it will be that slow. Harley’s gone back to his family for winter break, and most of the dorm isn’t here either”, he muttered quietly. His revision notebook sat untouched on his lap, nervously rolling his pen between his thumb and index finger.
“You know I never used to like Harley, so I can’t believe I’m saying this but you should be more like him.”
Frustrated tears began to form in Peter’s eyes at Tony’s bluntness. But the man still refused to even look over at the screen.
“You know this isn’t my fault”, Peter whispered, it hurt that Tony was pinning the blame on him. How was he supposed to know the weather was going to stop flights?
“If you’d just gotten the flight when I’d told you too we’d be able to watch Elf together on Christmas Eve, on my couch. But no, you wanted to stay for an extra few days”, Tony hissed. The darkness of the screen made his brown eyes almost black, and Peter flinched at the look of absolute betrayal on the man’s face.
“You know I wanted to go to the party”, he said quietly, shaking his head, “I couldn’t have ever known it was going to snow this much.”
“Yes because a party is much more important than your boyfriend-”
“You’re being selfish…”
“Oh! I’m being selfish Peter? You promised to be here, and you’re not. That’s what’s selfish. You told me not to decorate because you said you wanted to do it with me. There’s not an ounce of Christmas cheer in this place, and now I don’t even want to do it. You know how much I hate the holidays because Maria and Howard were never around. I never had that. I never had a nice Christmasz You promised you were going to be here.. to help me experience that, and what have you done.. you’ve let me down. You told me five minutes ago there was literally no way for you to get back in time with the way it’s snowing, and you’re really expecting me to just be okay. That’s what's selfish.”
He leaned forward quite abruptly, and Peter heard the rough click of his keyboard, before his camera turned off. He was still on the call, but clearly didn’t want to be seen. So what Peter didn’t know was that the man was wiping roughly under his eyes, trying to rid himself of any tears.
Speechless, the younger male looked over the blank screen, his own expression hurt. He knew Tony was right, he’d given a lot of promises he wasn’t able to keep. He sighed, moving to turn his own camera off and therefore giving him the relief to let the tears fall. He sank down into his bed, cuddling the blanket to his chest and burying his cold nose into it.
“I’m sorry”, he muttered, because honestly he didn’t know what else to say.
“Yeah so am I”, Tony’s voice rang out through his speaker, heavy with emotion yet the feedback didn’t quite pick that up distinctly.
Silence followed. A heavy, emotional silence that Peter didn’t know how to fill to get it to stop weighing down on his chest like that. He swallowed thickly, licking at his lips.
There was a sudden fast paced typing, as Peter sniffled before finally Tony spoke again.
“It says the snow’s going to stop on the twenty sixth. There’s no planned flights, but I’ll take the jet instead”, as if predicting Peter’s disagreement with that, he continued: “But only if it’s stopped completely. And If one of my pilots is willing. I don’t want to take them away from their family, a hefty pay rise would be in order…”, by the way he trailed off Peter knew he wasn’t really talking to him anymore.
He sighed out quietly, nodding his head solemnly before realising Tony still couldn’t see him.
“Okay”, he agreed, clearly his throat as he shifted in the bed, pulling his laptop to him and turning on the camera. He waited a few seconds, but Tony didn’t do the same. Nervously he chewed on his lip, and closed his eyes.
“How’s your foot?”, he asked quietly.
A couple of days ago Tony had dropped a hammer on it. He was lucky, it wasn’t broken, but it was swollen. If it wasn’t for that maybe he would have been able to drive down to get Peter. But he couldn’t.
“It’s fine," Tony replied gruffly, “healing..”, he mumbled after a moment. No matter how he was feeling right now, he didn’t want Peter to worry.
“Oh, that’s good.”
It seemed all attempts at initiating conversation again was futile. The guilt he felt was unlike any other. He had promised, and honestly if he knew it was going to end up this way he never would have stayed the extra few days just so he could go to that party and leave when everyone else left. But now flights were cancelled and he was alone. Most people just managed to drive back. He couldn’t.
“I’m sorry for getting snappy with you”, Tony sighed out after a long moment. “I know it’s not your fault. You couldn’t have predicted this. And besides your young - you want that college experience. I don’t blame you for taking it over your old boyfriend…”, he seemed to laugh at the end, but he sounded solemn more than anything. It wasn’t a humoured or a happy laugh, it was quite broken.
“That’s not true Tony”, he tried to justify, clutching his blanket to his chest. “I’d rather be with you then anywhere else. I made a mistake.. a big one”
He half expected Tony to agree but he actually didn’t get a reply. The only indication that he was actually still there was the faint tapping of his keyboard through the speaker.
“I don’t feel too good”, Peter said after a moment, “I think I’m gonna get some sleep. I’ll text you in the morning…?”, he mumbled, the last part more of a question than anything. Even if it was Christmas Eve tomorrow, Tony didn’t look like he was going to forgive him anytime soon.
He was right in thinking such, getting only a low grunt from the man. Peter had to cough to hide his quiet sob.
“Goodnight”, he spoke meekly, voice shaking as he quickly ended the call.
***
If Peter could feel his nose he may have turned around to Ned and laughed about it being a Christmas miracle.
It had taken five hours and driving that most definitely should have been illegal considering they couldn’t see for the most part, but he was here.
Craving comfort after his conversation with Tony last night, he turned to who he knew would never let him down - Ned. He hadn’t asked him to drive down in the middle of the night, to pick him up and take him here, he just did. No amount of panicking from Peter as he realised he’d gotten into his car had stopped him. And now he was here.
The sun was just beginning to rise. Neither of them had slept, but here they were, in front of the tower, in front of his home. Of course, it was still snowing heavily, and as he stepped out of the car, his trainers crunched satisfyingly against the blanket that covered the floor.
“Thanks dude, I don’t know what I’d do without you”, he said softly. His gratitude so strikingly evident in the way his voice softened as they pulled his cases and belongings for his stay from Ned’s trunk.
“Don’t worry about it. It was nice to have the catch up. I’ve missed you”, Ned said, shrugging his shoulders.
Peter didn’t mention the fact that they’d spent half the time screaming whenever they swerved, the tires not quite gripping onto the icy road in a way that comforted Peter enough to not be alert. Instead he simply nodded.
“You should come over, we’ll hang out like old times…”
When all of his stuff was on the pavement, and Peter was beginning to wish he’d put a hat on, he smiled over at his friend. They hugged for a moment, but Ned being tired from driving all night, and Peter eager to go see Tony, let each other go after a moment.
“Thanks man.”
Peter managed to get all of his stuff inside after Ned had left. He decided to let reception send it up, not wanting to haul it all in the elevator and instead just grabbed one small case and bounded over to the lift.
He wiped away at the wetness on his cheeks, and brushed off the snow flakes from his hoodie. He knew Tony would still be asleep, which meant he could go through with his plan easily.
“Friday, don’t alert Tony that I’m back please”, he spoke.
“Yes Mr Parker”, came the reply.
He thanked her quickly, running a hand through his damp hair as let out a deep breath and smiled as the elevator arrived on the floor.
***
“Ho Ho Ho! Good morning handsome”
Peter’s breath was warm against Tony’s cheek. Smelling faintly of chocolate (they’d had a bit of a feast on the way here) and ever so soft and gentle.
Tony blinked his eyes groggily, letting out a disgruntled sound as he lifted his head up to try and make out the sight that was currently hovering over him in the bed.
The small figure of his boyfriend that should definitely not be here, was straddling his torso with the widest grin. His cheeks were still flush from the cold outside, and atop his head was a cute little Santa hat.
“Christmas came early this year”, Peter hummed, shrugging innocently. “Unfortunately Peter Claus didn’t bring you any presents, but he thinks he’s the best gift of all”
Two seconds later and he was being tackled to the bed by a suddenly very much awake Tony. Peter giggled, squirming as Tony’s goatee scratched against his face and neck at all the kisses that were being peppered against his skin.
“How are you here? I thought there were no flights”, he was evidently elated at the sight of his partner.
“Poor old Ned drove all the way over, and then drove me all the way back. We’ve been driving all night. But it’s worth it. I’d rather spend Christmas with you then alone.”
As they both settled down, Peter wound his arms around Tony’s neck, cuddling up to his chest. The Santa hat sat lopsided on his head but he didn’t mind too much, all that mattered was that he was here.
“We’ll have to thank him later”, Tony concluded, pressing a soft kiss to Peter’s lips that the younger male returned eagerly.
“I’m glad you're here. I was worried, but this is the best Christmas gift I could ever get, you’re totally right”, he concluded after a moment of silence whilst they took in the feeling of finally being together again.
Peter nodded his head in agreement, a sleepy smile on his lips as he curled against his warmth.
“Merry Christmas Tony”, he mumbled softly.
“Merry Christmas my love.”
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disneydreamlights · 4 years ago
Text
I Won't Lose Her
AO3 | FFN
Summary: When Vader sends a hostage video to Padme saying he holds her daughter captive, she does the only thing she possibly could, tries to save her life for her daughter's.
A/N: For @anidalaweek Day 2: Canon Divergence. Basically a Padme lives and becomes leader of the Rebellion AU because honestly we stan.
Yes I did publish this on AO3 hours before posting it here don't worry about it.
She knew she should've told Bail not to let Leia take the mission.
Padmé Amidala sat at her desk, unable to stop staring at the notice on her page. Leia had been sent to Tatooine to collect Obi-Wan and bring him and the Death Star plans to the Rebellion.
Leia had been captured en route to Tatooine by the Executor and had failed to get to Obi-Wan.
"Padmé." At the sound of her name, Padmé looked up at the hologram of Mon. It was clear that her fellow rebel leaders regretted what had happened to her daughter by the guilty expression on Mon's face. "We have news of Leia."
"News…?" In an instant, Padmé leaned forward, her eyes wide. "What did you learn? What happened? Is Leia alright?"
When Mon didn't answer right away, Padmé felt a surge of panic. "Is...she didn't…"
"No. No. Leia is fine," Mon answered, interrupting her before Padmé could continue to focus on that idea. The emphatic denial gave Padmé some reassurance that Leia was alright. "It's...perhaps I should just show you the message."
Mon vanished, instead showing a hologram of Leia and Vader, the mysterious dark lord of the Sith. "This is a message to Senator Amidala, the true leader of the Rebellion." At the sound of Vader's voice, Padmé's blood went cold. "As I am to understand it, the news of your death was exaggerated. As I have found in the princess's mind...you have been alive and in hiding, controlling this war from the shadows while the Organas and Mothma were the face of your rebellion."
"If you would like your daughter unharmed, you will arrive on the Executor within a standard week from receiving this message. As a show of good faith, I am using a private transponder, and will not trace it to the location of your current base. If you do not arrive, Leia Skywalker will be executed. She will meet the same fate as your late husband."
"I look forward to your arrival on my ship." The hologram vanished, and Padmé fought any feelings of nausea as Mon's face returned.
"I'm sorry Padmé. We're hoping General Kenobi will get there in time, but…"
"But we don't even know if he got Leia's message." The moment she had seen the message, seen that Darth Vader held her daughter, Padmé knew there was only one option for her. "I can't leave her Mon."
"I know." Mon looked down, as though she had expected this. "Please be careful in rescuing your daughter."
Padmé nodded. Once Mon hung up the call, Padmé ran to her closet to find her flight suit.
She'd lost Luke, back when she had first given birth Obi-Wan had insisted it would be best to separate the twins, and Padmé had reluctantly agreed, giving up the chance to know her son for the best chance of life he could have. If she lost her other child too, this one to a more permanent fate, she wasn't sure if she'd be able to forgive herself for the mistake.
She had to trade herself for Leia. The Rebellion would survive without her presence. It was the only option she had.
-x-
The Executor loomed in Padmé's vision, an ominous warning of her impending fate as her small X-Wing steadily crept closer to the Star Destroyer. It was large and imposing, and the Sith inside had already done so much damage to her family that she wasn't sure how she would face him. But she kept holding onto the single hope that Leia was alive when Vader had spoken to her. She just had to keep believing that. The dark feeling in the air meant nothing. She could survive.
The radio clicked on as she received a transmission from the empire. "This is the Executor. You're in a classified zone. State your purpose or you will be shot down."
Padmé took a deep breath, hoping to keep her voice steady in spite of her nerves and fear. "This is Padmé Amidala, leader of the Alliance to Restore the Republic. I'm here to trade myself for the princess Leia Organa."
She watched, anxiously, expecting to be fired on as soon as she stated her name, expecting this to have been a trap to lure her out of the shadows she'd remained in for so long. Instead however, there was nothing but silence before a deep voice came from the radio. "Senator Amidala, I will meet you down in the hangar. Do not try anything foolish. My men will shoot without warning."
The radio cut out, and Padmé took a deep breath. So far, she was alive. A small part of her hoped that this wasn't a trap, but a genuine trade to capture a larger target. She hadn't known Vader to be a man of his word, but then again, besides the fact that he was a Sith and the one who had killed her husband, Padmé didn't know much about him at all.
The hangar bay doors opened, and rather than have to pilot herself in, her ship was grabbed by a tractor beam, slowly pulling her in. Once she was safely inside and the ship landed, she opened the cockpit and jumped out, her hand on the only weapon she had on her, her blaster. In the back, she saw a dark imposing figure with his black armor and the mask that kept his face hidden. She couldn't get a read on him, but he didn't seem keen to attack. To her disappointment, her daughter wasn't with him.
Gathering her courage to her, Padmé broke the silence that had remained between them as neither had spoken. "Lord Vader. I see the promise of my safety wasn't a lie. Where is my daughter?"
"Leia is currently being kept in my quarters." The way he said her name caused Padmé's stomach to tie itself in knots. There was a fondness to it, one the Sith never should have had. She hated to imagine any of the reasons as to why. "If you'll follow me, I'll take you to her."
"How do I know this isn't a trap?"
"If I wanted to kill you, you would already be dead."
The statement was a punch to the stomach, a reminder of what Vader was capable of, and one that left Padmé with little idea of how to respond. Her silence left an awkward void, only filled by the harsh breathing of his respirator.
Seeing no other alternative, she relented. "Very well. I will follow you. But if any harm comes to my daughter–"
"I have no desire to see her harmed, though whether you believe me or not is irrelevant." Vader's voice was harsh, and there was an underlying note of offense, as though he couldn't believe she would assume he would want to hurt Leia. With that, he started down the halls of the Star Destroyer, leaving Padmé confused.
She wasn't in binders, Vader was escorting her himself, and he had no desire to harm Leia.
None of it added up. Yet she still followed him quietly deeper into the ship, trying to figure out just what he was doing and why.
When they finally arrived in his quarters, Padmé was surprised to find that it was furnished fairly normally, although nothing besides the pod in the back looked as though it had been used in quite some time, and in the bed on the back of the room was Leia, who looked no worse for wear to her mother's relief.
"Princess." Leia looked up at Vader. At first, her eyes had been narrowed in distaste, but once she saw Padmé, her eyes widened in shock, and the biting comment she had been preparing for Vader fell silent.
"Leia." Padmé reached out.
"Mother." Leia stood up from the bed and ran into Padmé's arms. "Mother I'm so sorry. I tried to keep everything contained like Auntie 'Soka said but–"
"You did your best Leia. You did so much more than I could've ever expected against Vader." Padmé held Leia close to her, not letting her daughter go as she realized how close she had come to losing her. There weren't any marks on Leia, which meant that Vader hadn't done much to harm her beyond mentally, and Padmé couldn't fight the smile that formed in relief that her daughter was alright. "I'm so proud of you."
"I didn't want you to come. I could've handled Vader."
"I already lost so much Leia. I couldn't lose you too." Padmé kissed her daughter on the head, and Leia hugged her once more.
They stood there, holding each other, though Padmé wasn't sure for how long before she heard Leia whisper in her ear. "Artoo and Threepio got away. I think they made it to General Kenobi."
Through it all. Leia still made sure that the mission succeeded. If Padmé thought she couldn't have been prouder of the girl, she was mistaken. Leia had gotten the message to Obi-Wan (and to Luke). The Death Star would still be destroyed and the Alliance would gain the edge they may have needed to turn the tide in this war. There were still so many reasons for hope.
"It is time for you to leave, Leia. Your mother has fulfilled her end of the deal." Mother and daughter sprung apart when Vader spoke, attracting their attention. "I will escort you personally to the ship she came in."
"I don't need your escort." Leia glared at Vader. "And don't call me Leia. You have no right to use that name."
"If you do not want any of the officers or Storm Troopers to capture you once more, you will." Leia remained silent. "You are, of course, welcome to stay aboard my ship, but I would presume that's not what you wish."
Leia remained silent, as though deciding what her best course of action would be. Padmé attempted to give a reassuring smile. "Go, Leia. Find Obi-Wan. Tell him what happened."
Leia ignored Padmé's pleas and looked at Vader, who seemed to have stiffened slightly at the mention of Obi-Wan. "What do you want my mother for? Why did you spare me?" She grabbed onto Padmé's hand. "The moment you learned about her, you stopped torturing me. You refused to answer any of my questions. You forced me to compromise the entire Rebellion for a phone call for a deal that based on everything any of us know about you would be so obviously fake–"
As Leia continued her demands, Vader raised his hands. For a moment, Padmé felt fear. The last time she had seen a similar gesture from a Force Sensitive had been nineteen years ago, right before she'd lost Anakin. Thankfully, it was just a gesture to stop, as he instead spoke. "I spent nineteen years thinking I was responsible for your deaths. I would not wish to see that happen again."
"That didn't stop you from killing my Father!" Leia's words hung in the air, and Vader stepped back, as though the accusation wounded him in some way. "Don't deny it, mother–"
"Your mother was misinformed." Though Padmé couldn't tell because of his mask, it felt as though Vader's eyes were locked directly on her, and she shivered. "I did not kill your father."
"Obi-Wan said–" She was cut off before Padmé could repeat the story she'd heard.
"Kenobi lied. Or perhaps, he could not face the truth himself." Vader continued to keep her gaze, though he didn't elaborate any further on his statement. "Princess, it is time for you to go. No harm will come to Padmé so long as I am alive to see to it."
"You still haven't answered my questions!" Leia protested.
"We do not have the time for me to answer them in a way you would find satisfactory." Vader crossed his arms, finally turning back to Leia. "I cannot hide your presence here forever, and if you would like to escape to your Rebels, you will need to go now."
Knowing she had lost, Leia hugged Padmé. "I'll come back for you. With help."
"I know." Padmé hugged her back quickly. "I love you Leia. If something happens to me, never forget that."
They let go, and Leia was taken out of the room without another word.
-x-
Vader came back into the room about an hour later, Leia no longer beside him. Padmé had taken to laying on the bed that had held Leia earlier, choosing to read one of the holo novels that were on the shelves. He stood next to her on the bed, but Padmé chose to say nothing. She didn't want to talk to Vader, let alone have anything to do with him. No matter how desperate for an answer as to why he was doing everything, she wouldn't give him the satisfaction.
"Leia has left. She flew out on your ship, and will remain untracked." As though he realized Padmé wouldn't speak, Vader did instead. "I'm sorry to have threatened her, but once I knew you were alive, I knew it was the only way to bring you here." She remained quiet, pretending to be invested in the story to continue to ignore Vader. "I would never have hurt her. Had you chosen not to come, I would've found another way."
"Why?" Padmé asked. She put down the novel, finally giving Vader her attention. "You haven't explained anything to either of us Lord Vader. I have no reason to believe you when you say you won't hurt her. I have no reason to believe you won't hurt me now."
"Nineteen years ago, on Mustafar, you tried to stop me from heading down a dark path I could never come back from." Vader started, despite still remaining harsh due to the vocoder, his voice felt softer, as though he was trying to be gentle. She stiffened at the start of his story, wanting to deny everything he was implying. "I wouldn't listen, and I lashed out. I thought I'd killed you, Padmé. For nineteen years I thought I'd killed you and the child."
Padmé's eyes widened, and although Vader reached out for her, she scooched back, as far away from Vader as she could. "No. You can't be. He…" She shook her head, her hand resting over her mouth as she tried to process this. Anakin couldn't. He wouldn't.
Vader didn't deny, and instead let Padmé come to terms with the implication of his words on her own. It was everything she'd feared. Obi-Wan hadn't hidden that he'd fallen, she was aware that Anakin had attacked her that night, but she'd always hoped…
"Darth Vader destroyed him. I'm so sorry Padmé, Anakin is gone."
"I see you needed more time before I told you the news. I'd just hoped…" Vader's words fell to silence, and Padmé couldn't stop herself from staring. There had to be something to prove this wrong.
"Why?"
"I thought I'd lost everything." Vader sat down on the bed, but made no further move to get closer to her. "My master was all I thought I had. I did not care about what became of me, and I became nothing more than a weapon, until I started going through Leia's memories and I saw…"
"You saw me." Vader didn't react, but Padmé didn't need one to know it was the truth. She may not have been force sensitive, but the knowledge of the true identity of the monster in front of her held more answers than the Force ever would. "Ani…?" She reached her hand onto his mask, cupping where his cheek would've been without it.
"I'm sorry. I've done many things you wouldn't approve of since your death." He had, and there would be time for her to process that the atrocities he had committed were all performed by Anakin. There would be time for her to decide if she could forgive him. There would be time for him to prove that he deserved her forgiveness.
But in this moment, all she cared about was that the man who she had spent so many years mourning and fighting to avenge was alive. "I'd thought..."
"So had I." Vader bowed his head, moving away from the gentle touch he could not feel. "But now that I know that you and Leia are alive, I'll do everything in my power to keep both of you safe."
Padmé shook her head. "Anakin, I can't stay your prisoner. I have to go back." She had to make sure that Leia was safe. She had to meet with Obi-Wan and talk to him about this. She wanted to have the chance to truly meet Luke in more than a few holocalls that Obi-Wan managed to set up between her and her son.
To her surprise, he didn't protest. "For now, you'll have to. When Leia gets the Death Star plans to the Rebellion and destroys it, that's when there will be enough chaos in the system that you'll be able to escape without attracting suspicion." Padmé couldn't help but stare. "I'll give you an encrypted comm system to communicate with, just like we used to during the war."
"You'll let me go back?"
"If you stay here, then the Emperor will find you. It won't be safe," Vader said. "There is no other choice, my master must die. If I have to work with your Rebels to achieve that end, then so be it."
Surprising herself, Padmé smiled. "If that's the case, then we'd better get started."
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ignisnocturnalia · 4 years ago
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Hehehe I lied, but it is here now! Had a crisis about being done with my Band director's bull and wanting a grade on something really bad, did the former and decided to simply disintegrate once Friday hit. Drifter HCs will follow this, also may I say Caiatl. That is all.
Nokris x Reader
“You are a child reaching for a flame; the Taken Queen would not have you burnt.”
You were on point during the Strange Terrain strike, but you had never thought you would run into Nokris again. Granted, you realized, his death was on the physical plain while his Throne World still stood. Considering he never directly addressed you, you assumed that he either didn’t remember you or he chose not to, as oddly disappointing as that would be. The timbre of his voice unsettled you, but it was not as wracking as Xol’s; in fact, it was rather pleasing to hear.
The proposition itself was unexpected, and against Eris’s previous warnings you stopped to listen to what the Hive heretic had to say. Trekking quietly along the broken path of the distorted realm, you stopped occasionally to stare at blights littered over walls and floating in the air to see if you could catch a glimpse of the desecrated prince. The telltale sign of Taken emerging from their portals filled the air, and you genuinely prayed that you’re next decision was a wise one. 
Your ghost was probably screaming on the inside as you placed your guns to the floor, bringing your hands into the air while staring into the gleaming eye of a Knight. Grabbing your arm roughly, it tugged you through a massive doorway leading to a room that was strikingly similar to the Court of Oryx back at the Dreadnaught. The portal at the center of the room shimmered invitingly as the bony bastard himself came out; even in death, he appeared to be in his prime.
“I see you have heeded my advice; come, hope of the Light, see the Darkness.”
His claws are cold as he grasps at your shoulders despite the solar flame surging over his arms. Feeling bold, you let your own solar light extend past your body, lying comfortably across his neck with a warm glow. As a creature who worships the Darkness facing a servant of the Light, he reasonably withdraws with a hiss at your gesture
You won’t say it out loud because he obviously carries himself with extreme pride, but you can’t help but feel bad for him. How can one person be an exiled son, heretic, servant, and now puppet?
“I won’t serve Savathûn. But I think I wouldn't mind spending time with you.” Before he can question you, you are promptly pulled from the realm by Eris.
Cue Vanguard interrogation once you return to the Tower. The talk is so egregiously long you make a move that would make Cayde damn proud: “GuArDiAn, We’Re NoT yEt FiNiShEd WiTh ThIs DiScUsSiOn!” Hopefully your shining reputation will save you from any dire repercussions...
Tracing your steps back to where you first met, you look around suspiciously following the lack of noise inside the Hive breeding grounds. You had cut your comm ages ago, the constant ping of Commander Zavala’s hailing grating your ears. The ground beneath your feet crunched wetly with every step, and distantly you heard the first Hive screech. Turning in a guess to the source of the sound, you set off in a quick pace, gun in your hand.
Upon entering a new chamber, you froze in surprise as you saw Nokris lifting a Knight by the throat. Taken magic pooled in his palm and raced over the armor of the smaller Hive, the bone turning black and a bright white glow shimmering across its legs. Still gripping the soldier, Nokris slowly angled his head to look down at you.
“Little. Light.” Dropping the Knight with no grace, his imposing form closed in on you with haste. Before you could take a step back, his claws came up to close around your jaw and upper neck. The rough of his talons dug into your armor, and for a moment you worried he would pop off your helmet and let your blood boil throughout your body in the harsh atmosphere. Instead, he pulled you closer to his face and brought up his free hand to grasp your forearm.
Nokris easily dwarfed you; even if you stood on your own shoulders you wouldn’t be taller than him. Passively, your thighs rubbed against each other at the realization. A detail he decided he would catch. Teasing mirth danced in his three eyes, hidden malice swimming just behind small organs. Internally, you were probably going to pop your helmet off yourself if you got kink shamed by a Hive prince of all things. 
You squeaked quietly in surprise as he lifted you off the ground, the hand on your lower face readjusting to your hip. His hand, quite literally, engulfed your midsection as he brought you closer to him for inspection. This close, you could see every imperfection on his face. Second hand leaving your arm, you shivered as the prince ran a digit up the side of your leg and continued his way up, stopping thoughtfully at the junction of your jaw.
Staring into the glowing green embers of his eyes, there was no mistaking the murderous glint in them. At the same time, curiosity had made its home among his more dangerous faculties.
"You found me once, you came to me twice. Find me again, at the other side in the field of ash under the dark tower.” Letting you to the floor, Nokris turned his back and departed to Traveler knows where through the portal with the long forgotten Knight. Sinking to your knees in stunned silence, you looked down as a nearly imperceptible squeal broke the quiet. In front of you, was a Hive worm.
“No.” Before you could even speak, your Ghost gave its earful. 
“I can’t not take it! I probably need it to find him. Either way, I told you one of these worms would be coming home eventually, look at its wittle face.” Your Ghost made gagging noises as you fawned over the wriggling creature you held between your hands. Tucking the three eyed larva under your arm, you set out to find the way back out.
____________________________________________
The next week felt like hell. The worm continued to get bigger with every mission you went on and keeping it a secret from the Vanguard was close to impossible. You had been wracking your brain for the answer to his riddle, and to be completely honest, it made you feel inadequate that you couldn’t figure it out. You knew the other side meant the Ascendant Realm, but what was the dark tower? Where was the field of ash? You had initially thought it was at Skywatch, what with the Hive ship jutting out of the ground and the small pile of chitin inside the cave not too far away, but there wasn’t enough ash for it to be a field, nor was it under the ship point.
It wasn’t until a light snow dusted the Tower one evening that it all clicked. He didn’t mean ash ash. He meant snow! 
In a rush to the hangar, you waved a hasty goodbye to Holliday and transmatted into your ship, pulling out a layer of blankets to reveal your now cat sized worm. The grub squeed and reached its head up to your palm, crawling sluggishly into your hands. Holding the worm to your chest, you settled down in the pilot ship and gave your Ghost to plot a course. There was only one place on Earth constantly coated in snow with a structure that could be considered a dark tower.
“Ghost, set course for the Plaguelands. He’s at the Doomed Sea.”
You hadn’t been to the ravaged lands since the Siva Crisis; the whole territory gave you heebie jeebies. And yet, you were returning because one of humanity’s imminent threats wanted a chat that, realistically, ended with your head rolling on the floor.
The closer you got to your destination, the more restless the worm in your arms got. In fact, you could swear it was whispering something. Your skin crawled for a moment as you felt the phantom brush of his claw up your leg.
The moment your feet touched the ground, the world around you stuttered as the colors faded into grayscale, giving way to the Ascendant landscape. Below you, there was no mistaking the keen whispers of the worm. Its words were encouraging in a macabre way, praise and blatant lies; speaking of how well you fed it, talents being wasted on a god that heeds you not, urging you towards the ominous building looming over the shoreline.
Dust swept across at a rapid pace, as usual, in the warped realm. Coming up to the alcove, you saw him with his back turned to you. In a smooth turn, he faced you at last. Beautiful, blazing emeralds.
Relationship HCs
His idea of a relationship has wildly different parameters than any normal human would put up with
No matter where you are, or what you're doing, you can feel him at the back of your mind like a fog; it's a bit disconcerting to hear him talk in your head at first, but it becomes normal and he's actually quite helpful when you're out on missions
He expects you to help him study thanatonautics since you can die and be brought back within moments, but that's up to if you have enough charisma to convince your Ghost to let your bone boyfriend crush your skull repeatedly to see what you can learn about death
The relationship feels more like a symbiotic one rather than a romantic one, but you occassionally catch him practicing human gestures you've seen couples perform in public if he's feeling particularly good on a day
You're probably the only person who listens to him talk about all of his schtick and is able to give viable feedback; he is more thankful than he will let on about this fact
He does not like it when you try blocking him off from your thoughts and will demand to know everything you've done in the day when you see him again. In his perspective, he thinks you're trying to leave him behind like everyone else has
Will not handhold, because his hand can literally fit around your torso and because he thinks it's weird. He will, however, carry you places if you're going the same direction
He also thinks kissing is weird, but will (surprisingly!) actually let you give him kisses on his teeth; the sensation of soft flesh on his cold bones is unusual, but something he finds utterly riveting. Not that he'd let you know
Also doesn't like the amount of straight barbarity you inflict on the battlefield, but can appreciate your efficiency with your job; this is him silently worrying about your safety but refusing to acknowledge his crush on the flame throwing ape
His communication regarding affection is terrible, and if you couldn't tell shame on you. His favorite thing about you, that you will never hear from him or anyone else, is your face. He likes the way it changes into different expressions, the life in your eyes, and your lips because Hive physically cannot emote as expressively as humans do; you are an open book he has yet to read, adding new pages everyday
Nsfw 👁👄👁
First off, however you get the size difference to work, congratulations. His height over you is something he enjoys immensely when you two get into it, and it goes without saying he also likes how you "hug" him
He will fuck anywhere, literally anywhere. The floor? Yes. Against the wall? Yes. Hope you're somewhat of an exhibitionist, because he is not ashamed if any of his or Savathûn's troops walk in on you and will keep going
He bites a lot, and is not afraid to make you bleed because your Ghost can just patch you right up
Likewise, he will scratch you everywhere but he does stop to play with the softer spots
He is rough and fast, going after his own release rather than yours; however, he has high stamina so chances are you'll be overstimulated before he finishes
Absolutely a dom, he will not meet in the middle about anything of sexual nature
If you don't actively fight for your life during his build up, he will take that as the go ahead. He may be a Hive heretic, but he has standards
You don't really have the opportunity to find his sensitive spots as he usually restrains your arms, holding them above your head or pinning them down at your sides
He rarely makes actual noises, but he does hiss lowly whenever he makes particularly hard thrusts
He knows that copulation won't result in little Hive/Human hybrids running around with his blood in their veins, so 9 times out of 10 he will hilt himself and come inside you
Fluff
Uhhh, a w k w a r d
Anything that's fluffy is strictly delivered by you, and occasionally returned by Nokris since he doesn't get the point of such pleasantries
If you're fast enough, he will never get upset if you can sneak up on him for a smooch
Whatever he is doing, if you are available he much prefers having you by his side to have an extra set of eyes to help him observe (at least that's what he says)
Since his physical marks are healed quickly, he gifts you odds and ends from old planets his people have pillaged and little items you can wear on noticeable places
Hides it very well, but is extremely thrilled when you come to him when you want to do or learn something new
When you're particularly frustrated by something, he will comb his claws through your hair to his best abilities
Whenever you're with him, his demeanor is typically calmer; Savathûn's presence and influence over him is highly diminished in the face of your Light
The one thing he will willingly do with you that's remotely romantic is stargazing; not because of the romantic element, oh no, but because he wants to catalogue any changes and is very invested in teaching you about space faring
Has nicknames for you like Little Light or >Insert any game seal<
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