#x wing pilots will always have my heart

[bitwhizzle]

Yesterday was Aaron Allston’s birthday. He would’ve been 64.

Aaron gave us the wonderful Wraith Squadron and imbued Wedge and the rest of Michael Stackpole’s Rogue Squadron with immense humour, and wit, and life!

Michael and Aaron gave the Star Wars EU a new viewpoint, that of the pilots - no Jedi powers (well…we’ll ignore Corran as one does 😆) - just soldiers who were sacrificing their all for this Rebellion. Pacifists, Imperial defectors, idealists, wash-outs - the Rebellion was made up of all kinds, but united by their struggle against the Empire and desire for democracy and justice.

Wedge and Hobbie and Wes and Tycho were the Everyman. They had their flaws, they weren’t perfect, but they were honest. And I love the Fab Four so much!

I reread the X-Wing series often, they are my favourites of the now-Legends books, and I wistfully bemoan the stories that could’ve been - stories that Michael and Aaron could’ve contributed to the now canon universe.

Happy birthday Aaron. Thank you for Face and Ton, and Piggy and Kell, and Tyria and Myn and Cubber and Runt and Emtrey and and and…

You are very much missed. May the Force be with You.

[lieutenantfloyd]

Top Gun: Maverick Fic Recs

Hey y'all! Here are 21 of my favorite TGM fanfics of all genres and ships, listed in no particular order.

Some of these fics are 18+ so read at your own risk. None of these works are mine and all credit goes to the amazing authors! <3

X READER

Safe Zone by @sunlightmurdock — (Series // Rooster and Hangman x reader)

A team of elite naval aviators holding down the fort at the North Island Air Base while they wait for reinforcements after a virus sweeps the continental U.S. - only, it’s been three months and no one has shown up.

Hold My Hand by @labyrinth-runner — (Series // Cyclone x Reader)

Jag! Reader is assigned to defend a pilot, finding the job to be more complicated than she thought.

Rooster’s Flight or a Manual for the Marooned by DontLetThemTakeYouAlive (Series // Rooster x Reader/OC)

"Rooster's Flight: A Manual for the Marooned" follows Madeline, a pastry chef escaping scandal in Amsterdam, and Bradley, a lost naval aviator stationed in Japan. Fate brings them to sunny San Diego, where their friendship blossoms amid career challenges and a clashing of characters. Madeline's culinary journey intertwines with Bradley's self-discovery, navigating love and loss.

Resilience, self-discovery, and the unpredictable paths of career and matters of the heart shape their narrative in this tale of second chances and unlikely connections.

Fine Piece by @dragon-kazansky (Series // Cyclone x Reader)

You have it bad for Vice Admiral Simpson. But to prove you’re fit for the job; you need to put that aside and focus on the flying.

Someone Special by @fanboygarcia (Oneshot // Cyclone x Reader)

What happens when the Dagger Squad catches on to the fact that known grump turned lovesick fool Admiral Simpson has someone special in his life?

Invisible String by @halfway-happyyy (Oneshot // Rooster x Reader)

the one where rooster’s about to leave on a mission he doesn’t know if he’ll be back from, and he wants you in every way imaginable. as always, soft feelings ensue! 

Do you wanna make somethin’ of it by @theharddeck (Oneshot // Rooster x Reader)

turns out, our favorite WSO has a side hustle, as quinn's favorite cowboy.

@bullet-prooflove's entire TGM masterlist

Everything she writes is outstanding, but the Beau x Ally fics (The First Time Series, The General Series, Deployment!Series, and Syria!Series) are something I think about literally everyday.

i don’t know, blame the air force? by @gretagerwigsmuse (Oneshot // Rooster x Reader)

in which lieutenant commander bradshaw feels his girlfriend’s wrath after she gets her year end bonus and uncle sam takes a pretty penny out of it

There Are Rules by @tongue-like-a-razor (Series // Maverick x Reader)

Your risky flying seriously pisses off your instructor at Top Gun and you're about to find out why.

Through the Hourglass by @bratshaws (Series // Rooster x OC)

Rooster x Plus Size OC!

Happy Birthday, Mr. President by @rhettabbotts (Oneshot // Bob x Reader)

after a hard week, the last thing bob wanted to do was attend his birthday party. so instead, he plays out one of his biggest fantasies with you.

Whoever's in Lemoore by @cherrycola27 (Oneshot // Bob x Reader)

A fic based on the Reba McEntire song "Whoever's in New England"

Angels Don't Always Have Wings by @bradshawssugarbaby (Series // Rooster x Reader)

a series of oneshots revolving around baseball player!Bradley Bradshaw x reader (nicknamed Angel)

Do I? by @bradshawssugarbaby (Oneshot // Cyclone x Reader)

Inspired by Do I? by Luke Bryan. (this fic was so good I had to go take a walk after reading it for the first time)

Road to Perdition by @sailor-aviator (Series // Hangman x Reader)

The Great Depression wasn't called a depression for nothing. Jobs were scarce, and the price of food and other necessities were rising higher and higher with each passing day. What little money you were able to make went straight to the bank and out of reach from your booze-swilling lech of a brother. It's on one such run that you come face to face with members of the infamous Dagger Gang; a group of, admittedly handsome, men who steal from the banks to hand it back out to the poor. You want nothing to do with them, but that blond-headed devil might just have something to say to the contrary. (1930s!Mobster!AU)

His Best Friend's Wedding by @ereardon (Series // Rooster x Reader)

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw has been your best friend for a decade. He’s also your fiancé’s best man. So when he shows up at your hotel room the night before your wedding, it’s just because he’s your friend, right? 

OTHER SHIPS

Mistaken Identity by @ladylanera — (TGM x Mission: Impossible crossover)

What should be a joyous homecoming quickly unravels after it's discovered a nefarious, unknown group has put a hit out on Captain Mitchell, mistaking the Navy captain for being a covert IMF operative by the name of Ethan Hunt who has an uncanny likeness to the captain for some reason. Enter a twisty web of lies that threaten the very existence of the family as we know it.

**Fic contains spoilers for Mission: Impossible Dead Reckoning Part One**

Flower Power by ReformedTsundere — (Icemav)

Flowers, Pete reminds himself, slamming the last of the books closed, are the worst.

New Chat Created: North Island Daggers by Comin2U — (gen fic)

Harvard: why Whatsapp and not just a basic text message? Hangman: because one of us has an android and ruins the ability to message with just internet. Coyote: Screw you too hangman. ________________________________ In which 12 daggers, the best of the best of naval aviators, are all a bunch of kids and thrown in a group chat.

come fly with me (let's fly, let's fly away) by GatheringBlue — (TGM x 9-1-1 Crossover)

It's a common misconception that Buck trained to be a Navy SEAL. For as long as he could remember, flying had been his dream. Most little kids wanted to be a firefighter or an astronaut, but Buck had always wanted to be a pilot. He wanted to fly far, far away from home, where his parents’ comments that might as well have been slaps for how badly they stung couldn’t get to him. Flying was his way out. His escape. If he was thousands of feet up in the sky, way up with the clouds, then his parents couldn’t touch him. No one could. When Buck got pulled from the reserves just after the lawsuit, it seemed like perfect timing. There was nothing left for him in LA. Not anymore. So, it looked like Buck was heading back to Top Gun.

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

Sky High.

(pilot!harry x airhostess!yn)

masterlist || ask me anything <3

my blurb masterlist is here x

in which, your an airhostess for british airways, and harry’s been a pilot for british airways for the last four years, and your both working on the same a380 to the big apple.

word count - 2.8k

"So, which lucky city are you off to today?"

Cabin crew had always been a passion of yours since you were a child.

When you were young, you used to adore gazing at the impeccably dressed flight attendants as they moved gracefully through the aisles of the plane. That longing to be among them, to embody the essence of professionalism and hospitality, never wavered, even as you grew older.

So when you turned eighteen, and were fresh out of college, you signed up for flight attendant school and not once have you looked back.

The course took ten weeks and they were the best of your life, because at the end of it, you gained your wings and was ready to fly.

That was when you met Samia, your bestest friend, the two of you were in the same cabin crew training classes and had practically been inseparable ever since, it was a friendship that was made to last.

You and Samia make your way through the bustling terminal of Manchester Airport, where families were executed to finally have a nice holiday that they had waited all year for and people who were solo-travellers ready to embark on a boring old work trip.

With a grin, you respond, "New York, simply feels like forever since I’ve been there.”

Samia feigns a dramatic sigh, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Ugh, why do you get all the fun flights? I'm just headed to Dublin."

You chuckle at her mock disappointment. "Hey, Dublin's pretty great too!”

She rolls her eyes playfully. "I guess you're right. But next time, I'm definitely snagging that New York flight!"

You nudge her teasingly. "Deal!

As you and Samia continue your leisurely stroll through the bustling terminal of Manchester Airport, she suddenly stops in her tracks, a perplexed expression crossing her face.

"Wait, did you say you're heading to New York?" she asks, a hint of disbelief in her voice.

You nod in confirmation, a smile playing on your lips. "Yeah, I've got a three-day layover there before heading back. Why? What's up?"

Samia's eyes light up mischievously as she leans in closer. "You know who the pilot is, right?"

You shake your head, curious about her sudden intrigue. "No, who is it?"

With a smug look on her face, Samia leans back, relishing the moment before dropping the bombshell.

"Captain Styles," she says, her voice laced with amusement.

Just like that, your eyes widen.

The dim lights of the party cast a warm glow over the room as chatter and laughter filled the air. You stood at the bar, holding an almost empty drink, observing the festivities around you. It was a celebration for the graduating pilots and cabin crew, and the excitement was palpable.

Suddenly, a voice broke through the noise, and you turned to see a handsome young man approaching you. His brunette hair had a slight curl to it, and he wore an open t-shirt with only the bottom buttons done up, showcasing his tattoos along his chest and right arm. He flashed you a charming smile that set your heart racing.

"Hey," he said, his voice smooth and confident. "M’Harry. Can I get you another drink?"

His flirty demeanor caught you off guard, but you couldn't help but be intrigued by his confidence and his striking appearance.

With a smile, you accepted his offer. "Sure, that would be great. Thanks."

As he ordered the drinks, Harry leaned in closer, his playful banter making your heart flutter. "So, what brings you to this party? Celebrating y’graduation as well?"

You nodded, feeling a rush of excitement at his attention. "Yeah, I just finished my cabin crew training. It's been quite the journey."

Harry nodded, his gaze lingering on you. "Well, congratulations. Y’must be excited to start flying high."

You chuckled at his pun, feeling a warmth spreading through you at his flirtatious remarks. "Thanks. And what about you? Are you one of the graduating pilots?"

He grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Guilty as charged. But tonight, M’more interested in getting to know you."

As the night wore on, the energy of the party only seemed to intensify, fueled by the pulsating rhythm of the music and the electric chemistry between you and Harry.

With each exchange, the attraction between you grew stronger, igniting a fiery passion that neither of you could ignore.

Before you knew it, the party had come to an end, and Harry suggested continuing the festivities at his place. Eager for more time together, you eagerly agreed, your heart racing with anticipation as you made your way to his doorstep.

As Harry fumbled with his keys, his lips found yours in a heated kiss, igniting a firestorm of desire that burned hotter with each passing second. The world around you faded away as you lost yourself in the intoxicating embrace, the hunger for each other driving you forward.

Finally, the door swung open, and Harry pulled you inside, the heat between you reaching a fever pitch. With a sense of urgency, you stumbled into his apartment, the desire to be close to him consuming every fiber of your being.

And as the door closed behind you, the outside world ceased to exist, leaving only the two of you entwined in a passionate embrace, lost in a whirlwind of desire and longing.

As you approach your gate, you come to a halt, a wave of anticipation washing over you. Turning to Samia, you give her a final hug, the warmth of her embrace a soothing balm to your frayed nerves.

"I'll see you soon," you say, your voice tinged with both longing and determination.

Samia returns the hug with equal fervor, her support unwavering.

"Text me when you land, just so i know that you got there safely." she tells you you, her words a comforting reminder of your shared journey and the strength you draw from each other.

"Take care up there, and don't forget to enjoy New York," she says, her voice tinged with a hint of excitement. “You deserve it.”

During the embrace, your gaze drifts past Samia, and that's when you spot him. Captain Styles, striding confidently towards the gate, his navy blue pilot uniform impeccable, a pair of sunglasses shielding his eyes from the fluorescent airport lights.

The women around him stare in awe, admiration evident in their eyes as they admire his striking looks and commanding presence.

As Captain Styles catches your eye amidst the throng of admirers, a smirk tugs at the corners of his lips, sending a shiver down your spine.

You swallow harshly, feeling a sudden rush of nerves at his knowing gaze, his presence commanding attention even in the midst of the bustling airport terminal.

As you bid farewell to Samia and take a step towards the bridge leading to the plane, your heart pounds with a mixture of excitement and nervous anticipation.

Captain Styles stands nearby, engrossed in conversation with the gate control personnel, his commanding presence unmistakable even from a distance.

As you approach the bridge, you catch Captain Styles' eye, and he immediately breaks off his conversation, his gaze fixed on you as he strides towards you with purpose.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't m’favorite cabin crew member," he says with a playful grin, his tone laced with flirtation.

You can't help but return his smile, the familiar spark between you reigniting with each step closer.

Ever since that night you spent together four years ago, the two of you have sort of started an arrangement, when one of you needs the other your there and vice versa.

But your feelings grew above just meaningless hookups.

His as far as you were concerned didn’t.

"Captain Styles, always a pleasure," you reply, your voice tinged with a hint of amusement.

He falls into step beside you, his presence magnetic as he matches your stride.

"So, headed to the Big Apple, are we?" he asks, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

You nod, a surge of excitement coursing through you at the prospect of flying to New York with Captain Styles as your pilot.

"Yep, three days of layover in the city that never sleeps," you say, unable to contain your enthusiasm.

Captain Styles chuckles, his charm on full display as he leans in closer, his voice low and intimate.

"Well, if you need a tour guide while you're there, y’know where t’find me," he says with a wink, his flirtatious demeanor sending a thrill down your spine.

You play along, matching his flirtatious energy with a playful smirk of your own.

"I might just take you up on that offer," you tease, the familiarity between you sparking with every word exchanged.

As you reach the entrance to the bridge, Captain Styles stops, his gaze lingering on you with a mix of intensity and longing.

"Until we meet again, m’cloud member," he says, his voice husky with promise.

You meet his gaze, the unspoken understanding between you hanging heavy in the air.

"Until next time," you reply, your heart racing with anticipation as you step onto the bridge and make your way towards the plane.

Standing at the entrance of the plane, you greet passengers with a warm smile as they board, checking their tickets with practiced efficiency.

Beside you stands Suzie, a petite blonde cabin crew member from France, her cheerful demeanor adding to the welcoming atmosphere of the aircraft.

"Bonjour! Welcome aboard," Suzie chirps in her melodious French accent, her eyes sparkling with genuine hospitality as she assists passengers with their carry-on luggage.

You nod in agreement, echoing her sentiments with a friendly greeting of your own.

"Welcome aboard, ladies and gentlemen. If you could please have your tickets ready, we'll get you settled in no time," you say, your voice projecting confidence and professionalism.

As passengers file past, you and Suzie work in tandem, ensuring a smooth and efficient boarding process. You exchange glances and quick smiles as you assist travelers with finding their seats and stowing their belongings in the overhead compartments.

"Next please," you say, gesturing for the next passenger to approach, your attention fully focused on providing top-notch service to everyone boarding the aircraft.

Suzie chimes in, her cheerful demeanor infectious as she assists an elderly couple with finding their seats.

"Right this way, monsieur et madame. Allow me to help you with your bags," she says, her gentle touch earning her grateful smiles from the passengers.

As the last few passengers board the plane, you and Suzie share a brief moment of camaraderie, a silent acknowledgment of a job well done.

As the final passengers settle into their seats and fasten their seatbelts, you and the rest of the cabin crew begin to make your way down the aisle, ensuring that everyone is safely secured for takeoff. With practiced ease, you exchange reassuring smiles and nods with passengers as you pass, checking seatbelts and offering assistance where needed.

Once you confirm that all passengers are securely strapped in, you make your way to the front of the cabin, ready to perform the mandatory safety demonstration. Standing in the aisle, you and the other cabin crew members demonstrate the proper use of seatbelts, oxygen masks, and life vests, your movements fluid and precise as you emphasize the importance of safety during the flight.

As the plane taxis towards the runway, you continue the safety demonstration, pointing out the locations of emergency exits and demonstrating the brace position in case of an emergency landing. Your voice is calm and reassuring, your demeanor projecting confidence and competence to the passengers seated before you.

Three hours into the flight, you find yourself in the crew mess area, diligently preparing warm nuts for the passengers as part of the in-flight service. The gentle hum of the aircraft fills the air, a comforting backdrop to the routine tasks at hand.

Suddenly, the sound of the call button interrupts the steady rhythm, prompting you to glance up from your task.

With a quick exchange of glances with your fellow cabin crew members, you make your way towards the source of the signal, ready to assist the passenger in need.

Approaching the row where the call button was activated, you find a mother and her little girl, the child looking pale and visibly uncomfortable.

Concern washes over you as you inquire, "Is everything okay? How can I assist you?"

The mother looks relieved at your arrival, her voice tinged with urgency. "My daughter isn't feeling well. Do you have a sick bag?"

You nod empathetically, understanding the urgency of the situation.

"Of course, let me grab one for you right away," you assure her, before swiftly making your way back to the crew mess to retrieve a sick bag.

Returning to the passenger's row with the sick bag in hand, you offer it to the mother with a sympathetic smile.

"Here you go. I hope this helps. Is there anything else I can do to assist you and your daughter?"

The mother gratefully accepts the sick bag, her expression conveying a mix of relief and gratitude.

"Thank you so much. This should do the trick. We'll let you know if we need anything else," she says, her voice soft with appreciation.

You nod, reassuring her that you're available should they require any further assistance.

Just under four hours into the flight, you find yourself tasked with delivering the pre-ordered meals to the cockpit crew. Carrying a tray with their dinner selections, you make your way to the front of the aircraft, where the cockpit door awaits.

Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you knock lightly on the door before pushing it open, revealing the familiar sight of Captain Harry and First Officer Max at the controls.

"Dinner delivery," you announce with a smile, stepping into the cockpit.

Harry looks up from the control panel, his eyes lighting up as he sees you. "Ah, if it isn’t the queen of the clouds herself," he says, his tone playful yet subtly flirtatious.

Suppressing a smile, you approach him with the tray, presenting him with his sushi and a glass of apple juice.

"Here you go, Captain Styles. Enjoy your meal," you say, your voice steady despite the flutter of excitement in your chest.

You bend down in front of the captain, knowing that it will simply drive him crazy, and because we’ll….your a little tease, your skirt isn’t that short, because it’s not aloud to be but it certainly does the trick, because you softly hear him take a small intake of breath which has you trying to surpress your smile.

You then stand back to a normal height and give the first officer his choice of food for the night.

Max looks up from his own console, offering you a polite nod of acknowledgment.

"Thank you," he says, his tone professional as he accepts his lasagna and a glass of milk.

You return his nod with a polite smile, acknowledging his presence before turning your attention back to Harry.

"Is there anything else I can assist you with, Captain?" you inquire, trying to keep the conversation light and professional despite the underlying tension between you.

Harry's gaze lingers on you for a moment longer than necessary, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

"I don’t think there is no." he replies, his tone teasing yet filled with underlying sincerity.

As you turn to leave the cockpit, you catch Harry's gaze and offer a sheepish smile.

"I should probably go wash my hands," you say, feeling a sudden need to break the tension in the air.

Harry chuckles softly, his eyes crinkling with amusement.

"Of course, can't have our cabin crew getting their hands dirty," he teases, his tone light yet tinged with a hint of flirtation.

You laugh along with him, grateful for the playful banter that eases the atmosphere.

"Exactly," you reply, eager to retreat from the intimate confines of the cockpit before things become too heated.

You make your way towards the bathroom as you had initially intended. Pushing open the door, you step inside, grateful for the momentary solitude the confined space offers.

Turning on the tap, you let the water flow over your hands, the cool sensation refreshing as you lather them with soap. With practiced efficiency, you scrub your hands clean, ensuring every trace of dirt and germs is washed away.

Once satisfied with the cleanliness of your hands, you rinse off the soap and reach for a paper towel to dry them.

As you pat your hands dry, you take a moment to glance at your reflection in the mirror, adjusting your uniform and smoothing down any stray hairs that may have escaped your notice.

As you are preparing to leave the bathroom, the sound of the door opening behind you catches your attention, causing a slight flutter of nerves to rise in your stomach.

Without turning around, you sense someone entering the small space, their presence filling the air with an unspoken tension.

Gulping nervously, you finally muster the courage to turn and make eye contact with the newcomer.

The sight of the familiar uniform and the commanding aura that surrounds them leaves you momentarily speechless, your heart pounding in your chest.

You swallow heavily.

“Hello, Captain.”

[crazyunsexycool]

Masterlist for the My Little Love Universe. These series revolves around three of our favorite fictional men, Bucky, Steve and Same. They each get their own story and this universe starts with Bucky’s.

My Little Love

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanched!Reader “Sugar”

Series Masterlist

Bucky was no longer the winter soldier. He was living freely and working with the Avengers. You were one of his closest friends and he was head over heels in love with you. The feeling was mutual. You liked Bucky the moment you met him but neither of you were willing to say anything yet. Everyday that passed, Bucky was able to remove himself more from what Hydra had done to him. Until a mission reveals that Hydra had been creating super soldier children and Bucky happened to be the father. With you by his side Bucky will learn to love and care for his kids. The love you have for each other blooms into a beautiful relationship. But Hydra isn’t happy that the next generation of super soldiers was taken from them and they’ll do whatever it takes to get them back.

Series warnings: major angst, fluff, smut, blood, medical emergencies, hydra, bad family relationships, mentioned child abuse, kidnapping, (please check individual chapters for warnings)

A Love As Sweet As Honey

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Scientist!Reader “Honey”

Series Masterlist

Steve wanted what his best friends had. He wanted love and family and peace. That’s wasn’t too much to ask for, right? Somewhere along the way Steve befriended Bruce’s lab assistant, you. You were guarded, slightly grumpy, you weren’t afraid to say what you were thinking and didn’t trust easily. That didn’t stop Steve from seeing more to you. He liked you and you liked him. While Steve didn’t want to ruin the friendship you had, you were afraid to let him see the more vulnerable part of you. However, after a night of drinking you wake up naked and next to each other. A drunken one night stand that will definitely put a strain on the friendship. Then you get a positive pregnancy test.

Series warnings: angst, fluff, smut, tears, unplanned pregnancy, talks of abortion, bad family dynamics, more to come… (read individual chapters for specific warnings)

A Love On Broken Wings

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Engineer!Reader “Sweets”

Series Masterlist

Sam Wilson had always wanted to fly. He wanted to help people and make a difference. When he saw the opportunity to become a pilot in the Air Force he took it. That choice would change his life forever. Not only would it lead him to become friends with and work along side the Avengers, he’d also met the love of his life. You also wanted to help people. Listening to your father tell stories from his time in the military and the limitations there were you wanted to created something that would change the way missions would be handled. That’s how you met the man that would steal your heart and break it.

Series Warnings: angst, fluff, smut, tears, character death, kidnapping, torture (see future chapters for warnings)

-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-

A/N: As always my permanent and series taglists are open. I will only add 18+ so please make sure you let me know if you are 18+ or that it’s on your blog!

[megamindsecretlair]

Qimir x reader 🥺

Ask and receive, anon! Have you been peeking at my drafts??

We Are the Night - Chapter 1

Masterlist Chapter 2

Pairing: Qimir x Jedi!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Tame, nothing explicit. There's teasing though, if you squint. Possible dark elements, but always consensual. Corruption kink. I spit on Star Wars canon. I will borrow some of Osha's backstory, but some things will be changed.

Summary: You end up crash landing onto the planet that Qimir calls home. He rescues you, but you have no way of going home, no way of letting anyone know where you are. Qimir talks a good game, but can you trust him?

AO3 Link

Word Count: 3,406

A/N: Ahhhhhh, this show has rotted my brain and I'm not even an enemies to lovers girlie! But I need that man like a bad habit! Toss a coin to your bloggers by leaving a comment, reblog, or unhinged howling in my asks.

Taglist: @amethyst09 @ciaqui @we-outsiiiide @browngirldominion @iv0rysoap @thecookiebratz @harmshake @00aijia00 @judymfmoody @multiversefanfics @tvchi

Loud, obnoxious beeping roused you into consciousness. Your eyes were gritty, dry, seemingly glued shut. But you forced them open anyway. Light from overhead seared your retinas and you shut it with a groan. You licked your dry lips and tried to turn your head.

Stars, your head was killing you. Achy. Unsettling. The beeps and alarms weren’t going anywhere, however, and you were the only one in this tin can. You didn’t remember passing out. 

You wracked your brain trying to think of what happened. But the last thing you remembered was…talking to…setting coordinates for…fuck, it was on the tip of your tongue to say it but you couldn’t find the words. 

The alarms were starting to pulse in time with your headache. You took a few deep breaths, staring up at your ceiling, which was just a glass dome overlooking the galaxy. You were speeding somewhere and it couldn’t be anywhere good if the alarms had anything to say about it. 

Tears pricked your eyes but you didn’t have time for any of that. You grunted and groaned as you climbed off of your floor. Just sitting up knocked the breath out of you. Struggling to your feet took tremendous strength that you just didn’t have. 

Your hand clutched onto the vinyl pilot’s seat as you pulled yourself to standing. A sharp pain pierced your side. The ship lurched to the right and you stumbled, knocking your shoulder against the side of the cockpit. You cried out. Everything hurt!

You gritted your teeth and found the energy to look down, inspecting yourself. You still wore the same outfit, cargo pants, a black t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and your utility vest. A dark red stain spread across the expanse of your cargo pants. Your shirt soaked up much of the blood, too dark to distinguish between the two. 

You lifted the edges of your shirt to reveal a gushing wound in your side. The sight of your own blood nearly made you swoon. There was so much. You looked towards the floor where you had been laying. There was a generous pool there. Your heart sank. How long were you out?

The ship lurched again, metal ripping, gears shifting, and you stumbled forward. Your navigation panels were all over the place. Red buttons flashed, the alarm screeched, and the other screens blinked on and off. If nothing else, you were in deep fucking trouble. 

You cried out as you flopped into the pilot’s seat. The ship you were in was careening decidedly down, though you weren’t sure why. Out of the corner of your eye, there was movement. You looked to the right to see a bit of smoke. 

You leaned your face against the window, trying to look as far as you could at the gaping hole in the escape pod’s wing. Escape pod? The hell? 

The ship gave a decidedly crude groan and shutter that did not sound good at all. You flipped through your switches trying to turn the damn alarm off. You were woozy, feeling lightheaded and sick, but you needed to think. Now that you were awake, the pains and aches in your body started vying for your attention.

Your foot hurt like hell, your side was killing you, and there was a damn crick in your neck. Focus. Focus. 

You pressed the button to open a wide range channel. “H-Hello? Anyone out there? I’m in trouble,” you said. Your voice was strained, dry, and you coughed from disuse. You knew that you didn’t want to draw the attention of bad characters like pirates or opportunists. But anything was better than imminent death. 

“Please, I don’t know where I am,” you said into the comms. Nothing. No static. Tears gathered in your eyes once more. If you weren’t a failed Jedi, maybe you could figure out a way out of this. Maybe you could have used the Force, meditated and connected with someone, anyone, who could come rescue you. 

You hung your head. There’s no use crying when your life was in the balance. So you swiped at your tears, careful not to smear blood on your face, and refocused on the job at hand. One of these damn switches had to turn off the alarms. 

You grabbed hold of the steering wheel, pulling back on it. No such luck. The ship gave a shudder, a groan, a keening whine and then boom! The ship spun out of control. As the ship twisted and turned, more black smoke emanated from the right wing. Said wing was flung from the ship, spinning away from you faster and faster.

“Oh shit,” you whispered. It wasn’t necessarily needed to fly, but it kept your ship balanced and steady upon take off and arrival. How the hell were you going to land now? 

Shit, shit, shit! You strapped on the seatbelts on your seat and held on as the ship spun and spun. Spun so fast it was a dizzying array of stars overhead, making you sick, Making your stomach flip and flop and threatened to upchuck whatever your last meal was. Whenever that was. 

The ship stopped spinning as if it had been yanked by an invisible chain. Now, it just careened forward, plummeting as you felt the drop in your stomach. A blue planet loomed before you. The sun was on the far side of the planet, illuminating wondrous and endless blue. 

Shit. The last thing you needed was to land on an ocean planet. No land for miles in any direction, no navigational charts to pull you to safety, and no way to communicate that you were there. You didn’t want to die alone on a planet like that. Starved. Pathetic. 

You closed your eyes as the ship rushed towards that planet as if it were calling you there. A beacon. You had nothing but precious few seconds to think about your life’s choices and how you arrived here. At the forefront of it all, if you had just stayed with your mothers, would you have still ended up here? 

The front end of the ship began to burn up as your shields started to break down. The force and speed of your descent made the cabin burn up from entering the atmosphere. 

It was all in sickening high resolution. You watched your final moments like a holo-program, can’t watch but unable to look away. Metal plates began to break away from your ship. One flew into the windshield with a hard thud. The ship dropped down, so that you were nearly vertical staring at the expanse of water.

As you got closer, you realized that there was something worse than heading for a planet made of water. That same planet having jagged and rocky islands. You were too far away to scan for any signs of life. Equipment too badly damaged to run a digital scan. 

You prayed and prayed and hoped that the Force had mercy on you as you went crashing down. You missed a large island by yards, plunging into the murky, deep ocean. Your body snagged against the seatbelt, digging into your chest and sending fresh waves of pain down your body from the wound in your side. The inertia after the initial crash smacked you head first against the window to your left. 

Darkness filled your eyes as you blinked, watching as the ocean swallowed you whole. Alone. With no one to even know you were there.

When you awoke, you sucked in a deep breath of air as if you had been drowning. You settled back against the bed with a soft sigh, trying to recall such a horrid dream. As if you had been lost on a random planet, alone and afraid.

You flipped over in bed, side protesting in pain. You looked down at yourself. Your vest was gone and your shirt had been cut across the hem, giving you a midriff. You went to sit up, but a sudden rush of nausea made you lay back down and take deep breaths.

Your head swam with a headache that hurt enough to make you chew bricks. You rubbed your head, feeling your feverish wet skin. Your vision swam. It could be shock or it could be because you tried sitting up, but you closed your eyes and immediately fell back asleep.

When you woke up again, it was slower this time. A soft, rushing sound was off in the distance. You blinked your eyes a few times and let your vision settle naturally on the room around you.

You were in some kind of cave? Underground surely. Natural by the look of the jagged rocks surrounding you. You were lying on a bed. Not the most comfortable mattress in the world, but it beat even the Jedi temple in terms of stiffness. 

How did you get here? You had no memory of climbing into this place. Or finding a bed. Or stitching yourself up. Your hands floated over your side, feeling a faint scar as if you hadn’t had anything there at all. 

You remembered being in pain. You remembered being on the ship. It was all still so fuzzy, but you remembered that you were desperately trying to escape a different planet. You were on a ship with Sol.

Fear punched you in the throat and then dragged icy nails across your chest. Sol. Yord. Jecki. A sob caught in your throat as you thought about the horrible, awful cruelty of it all. The merchant who was not a merchant. 

You winced as you recalled your last few hours. Or was it days? You, Sol, and Jecki had barely gotten away. Your sister attacked you on the way back to the ship, fighting to get away from her master. 

Mae went on about her misconceptions about you. Spit had flown from her mouth with the absolute venom pouring off of her in waves. How she blamed you for everything. You for leaving. You for abandoning them. You for groveling like some dog before the Jedi. 

“Shut up!” You had yelled and you fought and fought. Mae was always better at using the Force. She had knocked you flat on your back. You had came to moments later, Mae nowhere in sight.

You ran for the shore as best as you were able, wound in your side preventing you from jogging faster. You had to get to Sol and Jecki before Mae did. 

You found Jecki’s body lying face down on the ground, three neat wounds in her chest still smoking. You covered your mouth with your hand, biting back tears and a scream. You were going to kill Mae, if it was the last thing you did. 

Escaping the planet was a blur. Sol hadn’t left yet. But Mae found you on the ship first. She beat you again, catching you unawares like a newborn baby. She pushed you into an escape pod, hit the eject button too quick for you to stop her. Next thing you knew, you were thrust off into space, banging on the window as if it would make a difference. Once more, you were looking up to Mae as she looked down on you. The pod went into hyperspace, off to who knew where. 

You curled in on yourself as you relived those moments. The fear, the anger, the betrayal. Mae was going to complete her goal. She was going to kill Sol and leave you with no one again.

“You’re awake,” a soft voice said.

You flinched, sitting up in bed nausea be damned. A man stood in the entrance to the cave-like room, wearing a white shirt and dark pants. His hair hung in tendrils in front of his face and he had short facial hair. 

He carried a bowl with steam rising from it. “Thought you might be up and brought you some soup,” he said.

“You,” you whispered.

How could it be? You had escaped. You were far from him. How was this murderer here? Walking freely when your friends were dead? 

“It’s not poison if that’s what you think. That’s no fun,” he said. His voice was deceptively calm and relaxed. One would almost call it lazy. 

He placed the bowl beside you and then backed away slowly, hands out, palm side up. He moved across the room until he sat down on a stump, picking up tools.

“Where am I?” 

“I could tell you…” he said, letting his words hang in the air.

“So?” You asked.

He looked back at you and smirked. “Wrong question,” he said.

“What?” You lowered the blanket from your chest, having covered yourself when Qimir entered the room. His back was towards you, there was nothing he was going to do for the moment. 

“Ask me what you really want to know,” he said. 

You ran your tongue over your canine as you looked at him in an all new light. How the hell did he know what you wanted to ask before you did? 

“How did you find me?” You asked.

“I felt you,” he said, looking up at you through his eyelashes. 

You slowly lifted the blanket back up to your chest, feeling his words rush over your skin. He was repulsive. A murderer. Evil. His words shouldn’t sound like…that or affect you like…that. 

“Not many can find this planet. It’s long forgotten on most star maps. Early this morning, I felt an approaching presence. I went outside and saw your ship, lit up like a star. Wasn’t hard to find the wreckage from there,” he said.

You wanted to call him a liar. That was what evil murderers did. But you felt nothing but the truth from him. “Thank you,” you said and looked away from him, hugging your middle.

He saluted you with two fingers from his temple and returned to whatever it was he was doing. You felt silly looking at his back. His wide back. You’ve gotten a few glances at a rough, razed scar on his back. You wondered about it but kept your mouth shut in case he was sensitive about it. 

You sighed and rolled your eyes. You were worried about his feelings? He was the one who had kidnapped you, brought you to this cave, and offered you poisonous soup. You didn’t trust him as far as you could throw him. 

“What is that?” You asked. Your curiosity would always get the better of you. That helmet scared the absolute taste of your mouth, but you were also deeply intrigued by it. The shape, the color. The teeth.

“Eat your soup and I’ll tell you,” he said. How the hell could he know you weren’t eating? His back was still turned towards you.

“You project your emotions,” he said. Your name slipped from his lips softly. You shook your head. 

“I do not,” you said.

Qimir chuckled and went back to fiddling with his helmet. You waited a few more moments, looking between his helmet and the bowl of soup. You didn’t want to risk sudden death, but you also really wanted to know about his helmet.

You kissed your teeth and grabbed the bowl of soup. It looked sort of appetizing, filled with soft fish and veggies. You grabbed the spoon, swirling the soup around and around the bowl. 

“You can do it,” he said. Your eyes flicked to him, and he was half turned in your direction. You scowled at him as he smirked at you. 

You narrowed your eyes at him, rising to his bait. You drank straight from the bowl, letting the herbs, spices, and flavor explode on your tongue. It wasn’t half bad for a planet with no land animals. 

Qimir smirked when you came up for air. He tapped the top of his helmet. “Cartosis. Handy against lightsabers,” he said.

“How do you have a lightsaber?” You asked. When you left the Order, you had to give yours up. You felt terrible. You had worked so hard on finding the right crystal, building your saber from the ground up. Designing it to fit perfectly in your hand. 

“You’re full of questions,” he said. 

“You’re full of non-answers,” you countered.

He tilted his head and conceded the point. “I used to be like you. Young, stars in my eyes, believing in the Order.”

“Is that how you got the scar?” You asked. Fine. You couldn’t help it. 

“I believed in someone I shouldn’t have,” he said. 

He grabbed his tools, gathered them in a box, and then stood up from his seat. “It’s like a sensory deprivation headpiece, like we used as Younglings. You should try it on,” he said. He smirked at you like he knew what your answer was going to be. 

“I’m not trying that thing on,” you said.

He smirked and you hated that look on his face. “What are you so afraid of? That you might look into the Force and have it stare right back?” 

“Is that what it’s for?” You asked. You didn’t need to get into the gritty details of your connection to the Force or lack thereof. It was about mental discipline. It all but faded from your fingertips the moment you stepped out of the temple for good.

“If you’re that curious, take a look,” he said. He smirked one final time, heading off to wherever he came from. 

“How long are you going to keep me here?” You asked.

He stopped at the entrance to the room and looked sideways at you. “That depends on you,” he said.

He left the room, leaving you to stew in your thoughts. You finished off the rest of the soup. If it was poison, at least it tasted good on the way down. Left to your own devices, there was nothing to do but either go back to sleep or stare at the helmet.

You looked at its crude design. Designed to incite fear and command respect. You recalled how fluidly he moved. How precise he was in his maddening dance of ruthlessness. How sure of himself he was.

You’d never been sure of anything in your life. You always felt like an outcast. An outsider. You floated between groups of people, never belonging to any of them. Strangely, way deep down inside, you felt a certain…pull here. A deep settling in your bones.

You shook your head, fighting off that wayward thought. You had to focus on getting out of here. Of finding his ship and escaping before he grew tired of you and killed you. 

Your eyes flitted to the helmet once more. As if it were silently calling you. Taunting you. If you strained to listen, you could just make out a voice. 

Screw it. What was the worst that could happen?

You placed the bowl on the chair in front of you and crossed the rocky floor towards Qimir’s workbench. You grabbed the helmet and sat down, staring at it. Slowly, you brought it over your head. It was larger than you thought it would be, but somehow so small you started to hyperventilate. 

All you could hear was the sound of your rapidly increasing breaths. You couldn’t see anything out of the helmet. Only feel. Hear. Your hands clutched the side of the helmet, feeling like it was crushing your skull with every breath that you took.

You felt a lazy eye open somewhere. Like you were staring at some great beast, who’s body spanned the universe. And it turned that eye on you. In a panic, you screeched and tore off the helmet, tossing it onto the desk and backed away from it. You nearly fell off of the ledge trying to get away.

You stared at the visage. The harsh smile gleaming silver. It was turned on its side, face plate towards you. Mocking you. 

You turned your back from it and leaned against a stony wall. Jagged pieces of rock bit into your palm but you welcomed the pain. Welcomed the reminder that you were alive, by the grace of Qimir, but alive. And you still had your wits about you. You were not going to let him corrupt you.

You believed in right from wrong. You believed in the side of the Jedi. If nothing else, you knew that you would never, ever side with the likes of Qimir.

Masterlist | Chapter 2

[skeletondeerart]

Sacred Waters, Sacred Hearts Chapter 5

A Male OC! Metkayina x Fem Human! Reader | Word Count: 2700

Masterlist & join the taglist

A/N: Both Rukan and reader are in their mid 20's

TW: Injury (broken bones), surgery, Neytiri's pregnancy mention

" " = direct speech | ' ' = Metkayina sign language | Bold = English

“You got chased by a what!” Norm exclaims, his eyes seemingly bulging out of his skull.

“An Akula. It could be compared to a great white shark; it was dark down there and I didn’t see the protected marker, ok? All that matters is that I got out alive.” I groan looking away dismissively. I hear Max huff silently judging my poor choices but Norm rips it into me.

“By a stroke of luck (Y/N)! If Rukan wasn’t there you would have been its dinner.” Norm lectured as he pinched his nose in exasperation “You have to be more aware of your surroundings when you’re solo. If you pull stunts like this again we might need to consider withdrawing you from the marine branch and find you a safer role in Omaticaya Territory. We can’t risk losing more people-”

“You can’t do that to me! I’m a marine biologist, what would I even research in the forest, tiny ponds and creeks?” I say exasperated trying to mask my fear of not seeing the reef or Rukan again. I feel Max place a hand on my shoulder giving me a look to calm down.

“We are just concerned for you is all, the reefs are dangerous and being the only human there we can’t guarantee we can reach you in time (Y/N)” Max reasons shuffling in his seat antsy from the long commute. I’m prepared to continue my protest but am interrupted by the pilot.

“Attention passengers, we are passing through the Hallelujah Mountains in Omaticaya Territory. The local time is 6 AM. Preparing to land, ensure all seatbelts are fastened.” She says over the intercom, the descent making my ears pop. As we park on the pad, two medics rush to the door with a wheelchair. I unbuckle, and Norm lowers me slowly into the chair, my injured leg propped up as I’m wheeled inside. 

For a fleeting moment, I looked around at the outpost watching fondly as Omaticayian children ran around and playfully tugged the tails of roaming avatars, they exclaim in surprise before playfully bearing their teeth at the children and chasing them around. I giggle before I'm depressurised and moved to the medical wing of the base.

I zoned out for a while, debriefing with the medics as they x-rayed my leg and determined I needed surgery to correct the leg. I’m changed into a loose gown and the area is sanitised and they wheel in equipment. Two hours had passed to ensure the clinic was ready for the procedure.

I’m carefully lifted onto the surgical table and administered anesthesia as the scrubbed-up, surgeons pull on the final layer of gloves.

“Just count down from thirty for me please,” The anesthesiologist instructed as she released the medication into the mask. I began to count down slowly as I took in the sedative. The room became fuzzy and I hardly felt them disinfecting the site. I reached sixteen before my mind faded and I drifted off.

…

“Starfish?” a gentle voice calls as my vision fades in. I realise I am no longer on the operating table but sitting on a sandy shore basking in the Sun. 

Yet this wasn’t Pandora. This was Earth. My confusion is broken by a gentle hand on the crown of my head.

“Mum?” I choke out as my eyes meet hers, my lip quivering and my heart aching. She had not aged a day since I left on the shuttle. Her gentle eyes and calm voice washed over me like a cool wind during a heatwave. I shot up from my seat and wrapped my arms around her shoulders.

“Mum!” I repeated in disbelief as tears cascaded down my cheeks like a raging river.

“My dear little starfish - I’ve missed you.” She whispered into my hair. I look up from the crook of her neck to gaze at her features once more, trying to savour the moment. “Your Father and I think of you always, you have made us and our country so proud daughter.” She says running her hand through my hair, untangling the knots with practised grace. I felt like a child again as she pulled me into her lap. My legs lay sideways over hers as we gazed at the lapping waves.

“I’m sorry I never came home, Mum…” I whimper, rubbing a soothing hand down her arm.

“We don’t blame you little starfish, we had a feeling you would stay... Earth was already too far gone. We wanted the best for you and if that meant moving to an entirely new star then so be it…”

This felt so real.

Another set of feet came around the corner and my Father appeared. My smile was so wide that it felt as if my cheeks were going to tear at the seams. “Dad!” He jogged up to me and slid to his knees, embracing us in a group hug.

“My beautiful girls, all together again…” he murmured, caressing my hair as he looked at me. My body bore new scars and longer hair, my features more refined from age but I still held the soul of the girl who left all those years ago. We spent what felt like hours just talking about our lives, it was heaven.

“...Starfish, it's time to wake up now.” Mum and Dad spoke in unison.

“What?” My eyes flickered between them in utter confusion.

But of course, this was only a dream… although I didn’t want to wake up just yet.

“No no no! Mum, Dad don’t leave me!”

“We are so sorry (Y/N), but we need to go…” They spoke as their faces contorted in pain and their features disfigured. The beach around me warped before everything became nothingness. I screamed as a falling sensation took over me as if I fell into the core of the Earth.

…

A horrified scream erupted from my body as I shot up in bed. The pungent smell of bleach and crisp hospital bedsheets hit my nose, I grimaced as I wiped the sweat from my brow. The other beds were empty, neatly made, and ready for future patients. 

I vividly recall my dream, and I couldn’t help but notice the tears in my eyes. My lips quiver as I imagine them growing old and dying alone with no one else by their side… that thought causes the dam to erupt. I wail into the empty ward like a child. The ache of my leg was negligible to the emotional turmoil.

I had bottled up my emotions for so long and threw myself into my research to quell the pain. But alas that only caused a torrent of emotion to boil over at the slightest nudge. Soon I had no more tears to weep as I lay back helpless into my pillow. I realised this bed held no comfort like my bed at home, it was cold and sterile. There were no soft blankets or warmth to be found.

Home…

Was it even on Earth anymore? I had lived on Pandora for so long and met so many new people that I now consider family… I sigh as I close my eyes and try to calm myself down.

I lay there silently for a second before a gentle knock on the metal sliding door broke me out of my stupor. 

“Come in…” I croak, coughing trying to get the grit out of my voice. A human Norm comes in and takes up a chair next to my bed.

“Hey, you alright? I heard you crying” He murmurs as if trying to soothe an angry viperwolf. 

I didn’t say anything, knowing if I spoke I would cry again. So I settled on just turning my back to him in hopes that he left. I heard Norm sigh, groaning as he stood up from the chair knowing he won’t get anything from me. 

“There are some guys outside wanting to see you. Can they come in?” Norm asks, I make an unimpressed expression as Norm continues “Trust me, you will want to see them too.” He smiles as I give a subtle nod. “Alright then, I’ll give you guys some privacy.” Norm states as he leaves, waving goodbye with his back turned.

Jake and Neytiri crouch through the doors and my face lights up as I see them and they bear two baby nets strapped to their chests holding Neteyam and Kiri.

“(Y/N) Long time no see!” Jake says as he approaches my bed. I try pulling myself up again, as Neytiri adjusts the pillow to support my back.

“Ma (Y/n), it is great to see you again, even if these aren’t the best circumstances.” Neytiri greets gesturing ‘I see you’ and I dutifully return. I hear Kiri coo and wave her arms around for me.

“Oh- hand her here Jake.” I cooed to the infant girl, Jake raised a worried brow in my direction.

“You sure, ya know with your injury and all.”

“Oh, hush—give her over. I’m well overdue for baby hugs.” I reason, holding my arms out as Jake humours me. I slide Kiri from the wrap and cradle her in my awaiting arms. 

I gaze down into her big yellow eyes, wide open in wonder as she takes hold of my cheek, which for once wasn’t obscured by my mask. It had been about six months since they adopted Kiri and around three months since my last visit to the Omaticaya base; she had grown so quickly and looked so much like Grace that it brought me to tears, to see my late friend and teacher’s features in her. 

I laughed gently at her babbling, and soon her eyes fell to the shell beading in my hair. It enraptured her, swatting at them and listening to them clink against each other brought us so much joy. Jake and Neytiri smiled at our interaction as I played with Kiri, tracing her stripes along her forehead and arms admiring her.

Another coo is heard as little Neteyam yawns, waking from his nap. My eyes drifted from Kiri and I gave a little wave to the boy. 

“Well, good morning Neteyam~” I coo, watching his little ears peek in recognition. Neteyam was older than Kiri by about a year and was babbling short Navi words now.

“Heylo” Neteyam babbles, slightly mispronounced but understood nonetheless.

I giggle “Why hello to you too.” I reply, gesturing ‘I see you’ with my free hand as the other cradles Kiri.

“We were so worried for you (Y/N) that storm cell was huge,” Jake asks worriedly as he begins to pace at the foot of the bed, he takes a brief inhale from his mask, then turns towards me staring at me. I watch his tail whip around, a telltale of anxiety and concern.

“I’m alright, Jake. I wasn’t alone,” I say without thinking as I wiggle my fingers at Kiri. She grips them in curiosity, chewing gently on my knuckles. Jake and Neytiri make a questioning sound at my words.

“What do you mean you were not alone Ma (Y/n)?” Neytiri queries as she rocks Neteyam lightly. 

I cough abruptly. “Well, that's the thing… I met someone.” I nervously state, looking at Jake and Neytiri through my lashes, weary of their reaction.

“Oh? Are they Metkayina?” Neytiri speculates.

“Yes, his name is Rukan. We met when he was on patrol”

“Excuse me…. HE?” Jake says exasperated. “And he didn’t try to kill you?”

I sigh at what I've started, shuffling awkwardly under their gaze. “No, he was more cautious if anything. He even helped me find shelter in the storm and strapped my leg.”

Neytiri merely hums in thought and looks at me knowingly at the tone of affectation I used.

Jake and Neytiri were like my older siblings in a way. They always looked out for me, protecting me from Pandora’s dangers… and potential suitors to ensure I was safe and happy. They were saddened when I was deployed to the coast but we kept in touch through video chat. 

“Well if he does anything, and I mean anything- to you just give me a call and I’ll get down there ASAP and beat his ass-”

“MA JAKE-” Neytiri scolds whacking Jack on his bicep. He hisses in pain as Neteyam and Kiri giggle at the scene. 

“No, seriously,” Jake says handing me a throat comm. “Norm had adjusted the radio radius. Now you can contact us from the reef, " he proudly states.

I smile warmly “Thank you, it means a lot that you care about me.”

“Of course Ma (Y/N), you are family and we protect our own, tawtute or Navi we love you regardless.” Neytiri smiles, smoothing my stray hair.

We are interrupted by a nurse with crutches and a bottle of pills. Neytiri refrains from bearing her teeth and wraps her arms around Neteyam protectively and I reluctantly hand Kiri back to Jake as I talk to the nurse.

“Hello,” I acknowledge the woman’s presence and quickly switch back to English.

“Ah, Ms (L/N), here are your painkillers and a pair of crutches, you can now be discharged. You are healing nicely, just keep off that leg.” She stated with a nod, writing something on her clipboard before heading back out of the room. 

“Thank you, I’ll head out shortly,” I say as Neytiri takes the pills from my hands and tosses them in the trash.

“Hey ‘Tiri!” I exclaim in shock at her behaviour.

“Pssh, silly tawtute medicines. Mother will have something better for your pain.” Neytiri hisses. Even after all these years she can’t help but want to do it the Navi way, I can’t fault her for that.

“Fine by me, but let's get out of here. I need some fresh air.” I say as Jake walks over with Kiri back in the wrap handing me the crutches. Jake and Neytiri support both sides of me as I ease into a standing position, I groan as my muscles slowly wake up then begin hobbling to the door with them following suit.

Coming out of the base Jake and Neytiri led me back to High Camp, reaching the final climb to their home that I couldn’t scale in this state. I stop along the branch bridge connecting the islands and with a huff, I look at Jake dejectedly asking to be carried up.

Without a word, Jake kneels with his back exposed, Neytiri helps me slide on as I nestle my feet into the straps of Kiri’s wrap and wrap my arms around Jake’s neck. He slowly rises to his full height and I look down feeling a sense of vertigo as I stare down at the fatal drop to the forest floor.

I hear Jake laugh as my breath hitches “Don’t look down!” He says in jest.

“Too late…” I say my voice shaking. That earned a giggle from Neytiri as she followed along behind us. 

Effortlessly Jake and Neytiri scaled the branches to reach the Omaticaya dwellings. I sigh in relief as I slide down Jake’s back and stretch out on the woven mats of their home. Neteyam and Kiri join me on the floor crawling all over me like a jungle gym. Neteyam climbs onto my chest and I wrap my arms around him playfully earning a happy babble.

Jake and Neytiri watched me playing with their children with great happiness, they held each other's hands as they coughed to gain my attention.

“(Y/N), we have some exciting news to share… We are pregnant.” They say in unison. I suddenly sit up, Kiri and Neteyam dangling from my arms.

“HUH! No way!” I exclaim in joy “I’m so happy for you!” I hobble over and bring them into my arms. “I’m going to be an Auntie again! Yes!” Jake and Neytiri are smiling ear to ear and they wrap their arms around me too. 

“We couldn’t think of a better Auntie to our kids.” They say, I look down as I feel Neteyam and Kiri latch onto my legs. I laugh and pick them up into each arm.

“You are going to be a big brother and sister. How exciting!” I say to the two babies. Sensing our excitement they coo and clap their hands.

I am so lucky for this family. Pandora is my home now.

Enjoy the next chapter in my Masterlist! & join the taglist

Taglist! @stag-symbolism @camiicazi @shadyd3ar @cocopuffff @etexin @nanaluvs-me @misplacedvibes @annoyingasexual

[papurgaatika]

My Pain Fits in the Palm of Your Freezing Hand

Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader

Minors DNI with my work please !!

A/N: happy angst posting, fellow angst lovers!!! I love torturing the little guys in my computer. Okay but honestly this one hurt to write a little bit. First and foremost thank you to @almostfoxglove for letting me participate in this challenge,, it was in fact challenging but the creative juices were flowing like crazy. Secondly- thank you to my beloved beta readers @carlynkurin and @joelsdagger for reading this, im so glad i could make you cry, it was my honor to do so. I hope the rest of yall enjoy this but in the way that it breaks your heart. Peace and love from me xoxo

Tags: major character death, angst, literally just angst, guilt, some more religious metaphors, major character injury, hurt no comfort, no reader desc

please lmk if I forgot something!! Word Count: 1.5k

Summary: Din was a mandalorian damn it, he was supposed to protect you.

The crash was not one either of you had expected. Always the steady pilot, Din never expected to crash, not even when the weather of this particular planet was practically unnavigable because of the snow. The wind blew and rocked you both like a church bell, swinging you into the sounds of mourning. You were the first one to fall. Never being one to sit still, your seatbelt was off, and you practically slammed into the side of the crest as Din tried to land safely. 

Trying is never enough in hindsight. The impact from the wreck is dire, Din’s hands in a steel grip, trying to steer the ship in any direction, your body laying there under parts of wiring and crates that came undone, the ship sinking into the ice below you.

Din rips his belt off, his armor mangled somewhere in the mess. His first, no, his only priority is you. And the way you looked made his heart drop into the pit of his stomach. Weak. The only word he could find for you was weak. Metal from the ship had given you a sickening cut along your abdomen, blood soaking your shirt as you gazed at him with big frightened eyes. He rips off his cowl, moving to you in a millisecond and trying to put pressure on the wound. You hear him whispering soft praises and empty promises of you being okay into your ears, and despite it all, you know. You know he can’t save you from this, that he hasn't felt the blood trickling down the back of your head down your neck. 

You try to whisper to him that it was okay, that he was hurt and cold, that he needed to take care of himself too, but he was stubborn. He was supposed to keep you safe. To protect you, so damn it, that is what he was going to do.

You manage to reach a weak hand out to cup his face, your soft hands so cold. So cold he swears they would freeze around his face, but despite that your touch is somehow as soft and gentle as it’s ever been. You can feel his tears hitting your palm, your thumb rubbing softly over his cheek, the stubble a familiar cherished feeling in your hand. You’re telling him it would be okay, that he’ll be fine, still attempting to soothe him despite how weak you sound. You stay like that for what feels like eons, your voice getting quieter, and your touch growing softer with every passing moment until they stop. 

The ship is eerily silent, and it makes Din panic. He was used to silence before he met you. He was content only having his thoughts, but that changed with you. You were loud and talkative and suddenly, he felt himself opening up. He was sharing things he had never shared with anyone, telling you things about his childhood. Was he supposed to be glad to survive this? To be thankful that he had somehow managed to outlive another loved one? He was holding you in his arms like you were a child, cradling you as if that would block anything that could hurt you.  Your breathing was shallow and labored and your heart was racing like the wings of a hummingbird. Din wanted to take that little bird and keep it locked in a cage, safe from the pain and hurt he had managed to put you in, keep you far away from him. 

And as sudden as the crash itself, the flutter of those wings stopped, and you went limp in his grasp. Despite the hollow look on your face, you looked peaceful, as if this was the only way you were freed of the suffering you had been put through. Time stills for a moment. Bile rises in his throat when he feels you slump in his arms. His hands are freezing and shaky as he cups your face, begging. Pleading for you to open your eyes. 

God those eyes that he loves so much. The warmth in them that might have been able to melt the snow surrounding him. The teasing glint that came out anytime he said something that made you laugh. The absolute love that he could see in them. The love that he was never going to be able to see again. Din feels his heart pounding in his chest, hammering away like the armorer, and his memory floods with the first time he took his helmet off in front of you. 

“You are my new creed” he had said, words spoken like a man finding god. His hands were holding yours, shaky and gentle. “Nobody else, nothing else, matters to me anymore. Not when I have you” Your eyes hadn’t met his for a few seconds. Almost too scared, as if he would disappear as soon as you laid eyes on him. And your beloved Din, always so soft and gentle with you, just tilted your chin up, his calloused hands a stark contrast to your soft skin. You both stood there, frozen in each other's eyes, neither of you daring to look away. Melting each other, committing the other to memory, becoming one. 

Din replays the memory in his mind until it hurts him physically. He was still holding your body, limp and colder than it should have ever been. You hated the cold. Teased him for how uncomfortable it was to walk next to him in the armor. You deserved to be warm, to stay soft, like you had done for him. How many times had you reminded Din that he needed to eat more than a ration pack? How many times had you taken a blanket and wrapped it around him when he fell asleep in the pilot’s chair? How many times had Din deserved that kind of treatment? 

How could he have deserved you? Especially now, when he had done this, allowed this to happen to you. How was he meant to go on, to persist without the one thing that was truly good in his life? 

He stands on quivering limbs, the temperature setting in, his joints stiff, and picks your body up with a silent sob. He moves you to the bunk and tucks you in. Fixes your hair how you liked it, and wipes the remnants of the tears from your cheeks. If he could do nothing else, he would make you comfortable, he owed you that. You lay there, and for a moment Din is half expecting you to stretch your body out and wake up. Wipe your tired eyes, give him a groggy smile, and whisper good morning, like you always did. 

You don’t. 

You lay there, pale and unmoving, and so heart-wrenchingly cold. No matter how many blankets he would manage to put on top of you, he can't warm you up. Not how you were supposed to be, not how he wished it. Din finds himself curled up by your feet, the freezing floor of the razor crest biting into his knees, but he can't feel it. All he could feel was the ache in his chest from losing you. He wished there was a way to seek your forgiveness for this, a way for him to beg for absolution, to seek salvation in your arms again. And yet he knew there wasn't. That he was damned. Damned with the sins of what he did to you, of the burdens he should have bore instead of you. He was shaking now, the cold that seeped into his body finally making its presence known as he sat with himself. He had stopped shivering at some point, so cold he felt almost overheated. His shirt was thrown off somewhere, the coolness of the air biting into him so much that his skin was practically blue. He was too warm for his liking, something you would have relentlessly teased him for before. He swears for a moment that he can hear the golden tune of your laughter, the melody of his heart ringing in his ears. 

It was calling to him, he was certain of it. Certain that there was a place for the two of you, that in just a moment you would follow after him off of the ship and run into his arms. A smile graces his lips at the thought, his feet dragging himself up and over to the walkway, pressing the button and stumbling down on wobbling feet. The snow is no longer in front of him, replaced with a patch of green. A garden, your garden, the one you both had always dreamt of. He breathes in the air and lets his eyes close as he feels the all too familiar feeling of your hand on his shoulder. He steps down the ramp and his feet sink, the crunch of his body hitting the snow falling on vacant ears.

 He was forgiven.

[footprintsinthesxnd]

Chapter 1: Welcome to Thorpe Abbott

Gale Cleven x Hope Armstrong (ofc)

Series Masterlist

This story is based on on the fictional portrayal of these men from the MOTA to series.

Summary: When their plane is diverted to Thorpe Abbott airfield Hope and Ruth’s lives change forever. These two brave nurses must face the trials and tribulations of war, as well as suffering the heartache that war inevitable brings with it.

Collab: A Pair of Silver Wings by @major-mads

The hum of the engine was the only sound in the C47 as it soared over the English countryside. The patients had finally settled, the morphine taking effect and bringing them some sense of relief. Hope slumped back into her seat with a sigh, smiling over at Ruth who looked as exhausted as she was.

“You looked tired,” Hope smiled at her friend who just sighed.

“It’s been a long day. I can’t wait to get back to base,” Ruth pushed her blonde hair out of her eyes, sighing again.

Hope nodded in agreement, peeling her sweaty green overalls away from her neck. “Hey Frank, how much longer have we got?” Hope called to one of the pilots.

“We’ve had to make a detour, Love. We’re heading to Thorpe Abbot airfield and we’ll evacuate the wounded to Thorpe St Andrews hospital. It’s not far now.”

Hope felt her heart flutter, her throat going dry as she slouched back against her seat.

“Hey Hope, what’s wrong?” Ruth leant forward, gripping Hope’s hand and squeezing it, her large blue eyes watching her curiously.

“It’s Hugh,” Hope muttered, her eyes a little teary but a smile on her lips. “My brother is stationed at Thorpe Abbott with the 100th Bomb Group. I haven’t seen him in so long.”

Ruth grinned at her, “so I’m finally going to meet this Hugh I’ve heard so much about.”

Hope laughed, patting her friend on the back, “you will but don’t get any ideas.”

The aircraft soared towards its destination, the occasional jolting and shaking on the metal bird bringing no fear to the flight nurses anymore. Once the ratting metal coffin struck the fear of God into them but now this was a peaceful ride.

Hope watched out the window as the lush, green countryside grew closer and closer.

“Hey Frank! Stop hugging the hedgerows for crying out loud. Don’t let the girl down before we’ve reached the field,” Hope called, grimacing as the trees seemed to grow ever closer.

“Who’s flying this bird, Armstrong? You or me?” Frank retorted, not looking away from the cockpit.

“Well maybe you could use some lessons in keeping the old girl airborne then. We’ll beat up the airfield at this rate.”

Ruth laughed, watching Hope argue with the pilot once more, “You know Hope, maybe you should have got your wings. Then you could be flying us instead of Frank.”

“You’ve got a good point there Ruth. Ya hear that Frank, Ruth wants me flying instead of you.” Frank’s reply was a muffled curse and both girls found themselves giggling in response. The plane tooled along for a while longer until it began to descend, rattling as it lost altitude and shaking its victims vigorously. The wheels touching down on the tarmac filled everyone with great relief.

“Well that was one ropey landing Frank, maybe I could give ya a few lessons?” Hope asked politely, battering her eyelashes at the pilot who just huffed.

“Shove off, Hope. Now get to it, your blood wagons are waiting.”

Hope cringed at the nickname the ambulances had been given, they were lifesaving vehicles transporting sick men, why make it sound so ominous?

Hope hopped down from the plane, instructing the stretcher bearers on which soldiers were in the worst condition. Between them, Hope and Ruth helped carry three wounded men to the ambulances when an obnoxiously loud voice called, “Well I’ll be damned!”

Hope spun round, her boots scuffing at the earth.

“HUGH!” Her brother laughed jovially, jogging over to them.

“Christ, I’ve missed you, Little Bird,” Hugh threw his arms around Hope’s shoulders, nestling his head into her neck as he always did. Hope couldn’t comprehend what was happening. She was finally in her brother's arms, finally reunited with him after so long. She gripped tightly onto the back of his uniform, burying her face in his chest. He smelt of smoke and engine oil just like he always did.

“I’ve missed you so much,” she murmured, just loud enough for Hugh to hear and he tightened his grip on her further. She could feel Ruth hovering awkwardly behind her and she turned to greet her friend, pulling out of her brother's arms.

“Ruth, this is my brother, Hugh. Hugh, this is my friend, Ruth.”

Ruth smiled sweetly, sticking out her hand to shake Hugh’s but instead he pulled her into a bear hug.

“Any friend of Hope’s is a friend of mine,” he assured Ruth and she smiled, her cheeks turning a deep red at the embarrassment of the situation.

“Hugh, put her down. Look you're making the poor girl blush,” Hope laughed, which only caused Ruth to blush harder.

“My apologies Ruthie, where are my manners,” he bowed down, taking her hand and placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles. Ruth stumbled over her words, quickly excusing herself and hurrying back towards their plane.

“You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that?” Hope groaned, shoving her brother playfully in the ribs.

“I don’t know, I’ve always considered myself to be rather charming,” Hugh protested, puffing out his chest in pride. “Come on I’ve got some friends I’d like you to meet.”

Hope nodded, spinning around to call Ruth to join. The blonde soon was walking back toward the group, clad in her fleece aviation jacket, and to her relief, without a rosy dusting on her cheeks.

“I still can’t believe all the airfields in England, you managed to land at this one,” Hugh laughed, throwing an arm around both girls' shoulders. “You two are in for a real treat.”

As they walked through the base, Hugh pointed out the various hard stands.

“See, right there,” he pointed at a few heavies. “That’s ‘Just-a-Snappin’, ‘Our Baby’, and ‘the M’lle Zig Zig’.”

“Where do you guys get these names, Hugh?” Hope laughed, her eyes trailing over each one’s elaborate nose art, along with some very proud-looking engineers and artists who had clearly put so much love into the bombers.

Shrugging his shoulders, Hugh sighed, shaking his head. “I couldn’t tell ya. What’s your plane’s name?”

“Just ‘The Angel of Death’,” Hope chirped.

Hugh stared at her for a moment before shaking his head. “Always with the dark humor, aren’t you, Hope.”

After hearing so much about the man from Hope, Ruth felt as if she’d known Hugh for years when in reality she’d only known him for a few minutes. She knew the stories of how the siblings played in the woods of Columbia, Missouri, exploring the famous rock bridge that brought hikers and tourists into the town. She knew of his love for the St. Louis Cardinals, and how he wore his battered and dirty Dizzy Dean jersey for a week straight after they won the World Series in ‘31 and ‘34. Maybe he’d heard so much about Ruth from Hope that he felt the same way.

Before they knew it, the trio reached their destination: his officer Nissen hut. They were long semi-circular metal huts, not known for their warmth or comfortability, but they were a soft place to land at the end of the day…which is a lot more than most young men of the time could say.

“Welcome to my humble abode, ladies,” he announced as they neared the building, holding out his arms in a ‘ta-da’ motion. “She’s not much, but she’s home.”

He began to open the door for them, but a voice in the distance stopped him.

“Charlie! No girls in the huts,” the voice called. “I told you that a few weeks ago.”

Turning toward the voice, Hope did a double take when she saw who its owner was. Approaching them was a tall, tanned blond, who wore a bomber jacket with his hair messily combed to the side. He walked with a swagger that instantly put a bad taste in Hope’s mouth.

She sighed to herself, thinking, ‘Why do all the cute ones have to be cocky?’

Hugh groaned, pointing at Hope. “Buck, come on, this is my-”

The man finally reached them, and Hope stopped herself from being captivated by his blue-green eyes.

“I don’t care who she is. You know the rules,” he interrupted, turning to the girls. “Sorry girls, but I think it’s time for you to go.”

Ruth cringed and side-eyed Hope, already expecting a snarky response to his comment.

“Well,” she paused, checking her watch for effect. “Seeing as we have patients in the infirmary, it actually isn’t time for us to go.”

It was then that he looked down at her upper arm, taking in the bright red and white medic band that adorned her uniform. Ruth could see the slightest show of remorse in his expression as his eyes rose back up to Hope’s.

“My apologies, ma’am. I didn’t know-”

Hope didn’t let him finish, cutting him off. “Maybe you should know all the facts before you make an assumption, Buck.”

“Hope!” Ruth hissed, trying to placate her friend, but the woman ignored her.

“See, other than my brother, this is why I can’t stand airmen. They’re cocky-”

Realizing the flaw in Hope’s argument, Ruth ran a hand down her face, secondhand embarrassment filling her. Just when she was about to interject, Buck beat her to it.

“Now hold on. Maybe you should know all the facts before you make an assumption, sweetheart.”

Hope’s mind ran rampant with frustration, and she stared up at him with contempt as he smiled cheekily at her. His eyes were locked on hers as they had a stare-down, neither wanting to be the first to give in.

“So,” Hugh cleared his throat in an attempt to break their silent battle. “Let me introduce you guys. Ladies, this is my squadron commander, Major Buck Cleven.”

Buck tilted his head slightly, not breaking eye contact with Hope. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” she replied dryly.

Ruth shook her head and sighed, amazed at her fellow nurse’s childlike stubbornness.

“And Buck, this is my sister, Hope, and her friend Ruth. They’re flight nurses with the 806th MAETS.”

Ruth raised a hand and waved with a quiet, “Hello,” and Hope felt a little satisfaction when the man’s eyes widened at the word sister.

Buck’s eyes left Hope for a moment to acknowledge Ruth, who stood beside her, with a nod and a smile. “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

“You, too, Major,” she responded with a small grin. He then turned back to Hope.

“So, you’re the infamous little sister we’ve all heard about?” Buck chuckled, placing his hands on his hips.

The woman glanced over at Hugh, who wore a guilty expression. “All good things, I hope.”

“For the most part,” Buck chimed, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I know about your little escapade to Kansas City, and how–”

Hope’s eyes widened in disbelief that her brother had divulged her most embarrassing moment. “Hugh!!” she cried, smacking his chest. “You lying piece of crap! You promised!”

“It’s not like I thought you’d ever meet anyone here, Hope!”

Composing herself, she took a deep breath and sent Buck a tight-lipped smile. “It looks like you know a lot more about me than I do about you, Major.”

“It would seem so, Nurse Armstrong.”

Hope trying to change the subject to avoid further embarrassment pointed towards the line of B17s. “Which plane is yours then, Buck?” She raised her eyebrow as if she was trying to challenge him but Buck just seemed amused by the situation and laughed.

“That beauty on the end, Our Baby,” he smiled fondly at it and Hope wrinkled her nose at the ridiculous name. How could grown men go to war in a plane called ‘Our Baby’.

“Well that's stupid,” she blurted out before her brain could catch up with her mouth and she slapped her hand over it with a gasp. She could feel Ruth begging for the ground to open up so she could disappear from the situation, and on the other side of her Hugh just groaned. Buck, on the other hand, just shook his head with a smile.

“Suit yourself. She's a good girl. Never caused any trouble yet.” Hope just wanted the conversation to be over, she and her big mouth had often caused a lot of trouble and just like in Kansas City, she didn't know when to stop.

“Well, I think I'll stick to ‘The Angel of Death’ thank you very much.”

Buck snorted loudly, finding the whole situation rather humorous, including the look on Hope’s face.

“You're C47 is called ‘The Angel of Death’ and yet ‘Our Baby’ is funny,” he cocked his eyebrow, looking at her as though she was a small child who had just told him something unbelievable.

“Yes, she is actually. What's so funny about that?” Hope crossed her arms, glaring at him defensively. This cocky pilot wasn't about to insult their plane and get away with it.

Trying to contain his laughter Buck continued, “Well it's not like you're raining death down on the enemy from that thing, are you? At most, it's a troop carrier.”

Hope opened her mouth in horror, stepping forward, ready to defend their plane's honour at all costs. Buck stepped forward to meet her, their chests almost touching and he leant forward, his breath fanning over her face as he spoke. Hope wasn't sure if her heart rate had increased because of her anger or Buck’s proximity. Hope went to open her mouth again but Buck placed a finger to her lips, silencing her in an instant. His finger remained on her lip for a few more seconds before he remembered himself and stepped back, straining his jacket.

“All I'm saying is your plane isn't exactly an instrument of war. I can't imagine going up without weapons onboard. We’ve got thirteen 50-cal brownings and sometimes I feel that's not enough.”

This time Hope didn't feel the need to comment, still somewhat stunned by Buck’s previous action and why her heart was pounding in her chest.

“Well Buck, congratulations. You're the first man to render my sister speechless,” Hugh laughed, groaning as soon as Hope’s elbow connected with his stomach.

“And my face will be the last one you see if you don't shut up, Hugh,” Hope threatened her brother before smiling sweetly at Buck, who just grinned back at her, enjoying the sibling comradery.

“I could happily live without this idiot but Ruth on the other hand keeps me sane when we're in the air,” Hope ignored her brother's protest and gently elbowed her friend who was unusually quiet behind her.

“What?” The blonde asked, looking over at her like a deer in headlights.

“I said that we would go insane without each other up there.”

“Oh,” she sighed with a small smile. “You would probably kill Frank if I weren’t there.”

The group broke out in laughter and Hope was left wishing that Buck didn’t think she was so violent but he didn't seem phased by the comment.

“No, I can understand that. You need someone you trust when you're up there. That's how I feel about my co-pilot Bucky,” Buck gestured to the sky, a solemn look crossing his face for a moment before it was broken by Hope’s laugh.

“So you're Buck and he's Bucky. Wow you guys really are original,” Hope snorted, normally she would have been embarrassed by the noise leaving her mouth but when Buck joined in laughing, it only caused Hope to laugh harder.

“Don't you start. I get that enough from everyone else,” Buck scolded but the smile on his lips told her he wasn't really upset. Suddenly, Hope noticed the tall dark-haired man had appeared next to Buck, how long he had been lingering there she wasn't sure and it seemed that Buck hadn't noticed him either.

“Speak of the devil. When did you sneak up on me?” Buck questioned, patting the other pilot on the back.

The dark-haired man smiled, his moustache twitching at the corners, “Oh, I've been here the whole time.”

Buck seemed content with his answer and turned back to the group, “Everyone meet John Egan or as he is more commonly known, Bucky.” Hope smiled at him, trying to make a better first impression with this pilot than the previous one.

“Hope Armstrong, it's nice to meet you,” Johnny took her hand and shook it slowly, seemingly preoccupied by something over Hope’s shoulder.

“The pleasure is mine,” Johnny replied, releasing Hope’s hand. Hope thought she noticed Buck tense a little at the interaction but that could have just been wishful thinking.

Hope turned to look over at Ruth. She took in her friend’s shy smile and blush, then followed her gaze to the airman across the circle. Realizing what was happening, she nudged Ruth lightly, a teasing eyebrow raised.

“What?” Ruth grumbled under her breath, leaning closer to her friend’s ear as the guys carried on the group’s conversation.

“You like him.”

The blonde’s smile fell and heat rushed up her neck. “Who?”

Hope tilted her head incredulously, rolling her eyes. “You know who.”

“No, I don’t,” she defended,

“He’s staring,” Hope grinned, nodding his direction subtly and Ruth’s eyes rose to look at him again. Hope watched as the pair made eye contact and Johnny smiled at Ruth, causing a deep red hue to spread across her pale cheeks.

“Uh, I need to go check on the patients,” Ruth sputtered, pointing her fingers in the direction of the infirmary and quickly excusing herself from the group, hurrying towards the infirmary, her blonde curls bouncing with each step. A few seconds later, she spun to face the group and called, “But it was…uh…nice to meet y’all.”

Hugh didn’t miss a beat and hollered back his reply. “You, too, Ruthie!” He then paused until she was out of earshot. “She alright?”

“She’s fine,” Hope sighed, used to her friend’s more timid personality. She had hoped that over time, her extroversion would rub off on the nurse, but so far, she had no such luck. Ruth was more of a one-on-one person, not one for groups of people unless she knew them pretty well. It seemed the smaller the group got, the more Ruth seemed to come alive. It was like pulling teeth to get Ruth to agree to go out with the other girls of the unit, but when she did, she usually had a decent time filled with friends, fellas, and amazing big band music.

Ruth’s admirer joined the conversation, and Hope smirked, watching his eyes follow her friend. “And how far away is your base?”

“We’re in Berkshire, so by car, it’s about three hours, but by plane, probably 45 minutes.”

“So not too far,” he chimed, raising his eyebrows and nodding to himself. Before anyone else could comment, he spoke again.

“I’ll see you boys later,” he said absentmindedly, clapping Buck’s shoulder before disappearing in the direction Ruth had gone. Three confused faces watched as he retreated around the corner. Hope pursed her lips at the new development, unsure of the man following Ruth. “Should I be worried?”

“Yep,” Hugh confirmed with a curt nod.

Buck hit him on the chest, chuckling under his breath. “No, Johnny’s as responsible as they come, darlin’.”

Hugh suppressed a snort, thinking of the commander’s wild habits.

“Anyways, back wh-”

And just like that, the conversation continued, and Hope had a strange feeling of contentment being on base. Finally being with family again.

The conversation flowed easily and it felt as though she and Hugh had known Buck their whole lives. She was about to tell Buck the story of how Hugh had gotten on the wrong train and ended up heading to California when a loud shout came from behind them.

A dark-haired pilot, also sporting a moustache, was waving at them, “COME ON CHARLIE!” He hollered, waving at Hugh.

“Jeez, sorry Hope, I've got to run, I promised Curt I'd help him with something. Buck will look after you though, won’t ya, Buck?”

Hope glared harshly at her brother. He knew better than anyone that she didn't need some man looking after her. She was about to protest when Buck spoke up.

“Absolutely. I’ll give her the grand tour, treat her like royalty,” Buck grinned at her, clearly turning on the charm now and Hope sighed.

“Excellent,” Hugh bundled Hope into a quick hug, “It was good to see you again Little Bird. Keep out of trouble okay?”

Hope hugged him back and nodded but stayed silent. It had been so long since they'd been together and now their reunion was so brief. She watched as her brother rushed away towards his fellow pilot, joining instantly in whatever conversation they were having.

“He’s a good man, your brother,” Buck interrupted Hope’s thoughts and this time she couldn't think of a witty reply.

“Yes, he is,” Hope smiled thoughtfully before turning back to Buck, “Did he just call that man Rosie?”

Buck quickly placed his arm around her shoulder, leading her quickly towards a parked jeep, “Again that is a story for another time.”

Hope had to try and control her breathing as the warmth from Buck’s side seeped into her. She hadn't noticed how cold she had gotten standing still and tried to suppress the silver that ran down her spine. Buck looked down at her worriedly, quickly shrugging off his jacket and wrapping her tightly in it, this time his hand coming to rest on her hip, “There we go, can't have you getting sick now can we, Nurse Armstrong.”

As they drove around the base and Buck pointed out all the highlights, Hope decided that there was definitely something appealing about the cocky blond pilot. Despite his apparent big-headedness at first, he was genuinely very sweet. Hope found herself drawn in by his stories of home and his adventures in England, and she found herself wishing that the drive would never end, that maybe they could even drive off the base and escape together. Alas, she knew they couldn't leave their duty and took comfort in knowing that he was only a three-hour drive away, only forty minutes if they flew. She’d have to let Frank divert more often.

Buck pulled into a layby beneath a few trees that lined the road, cutting out the engine of the jeep. Hope looked at him curiously, waiting as though he was going to say something profound.

“Well, what do you think?” He grinned at her, a crooked grin that didn’t show all his teeth but instantly made you smile back.

“Of the base or of you?” Hope retorted and Buck laughed once more.

“You are quite the character, Miss Armstrong, you know that?”

“It may have been mentioned once or twice.”

Buck nodded, clearly enjoying her no-nonsense attitude that often sent men running for the hills.

“Both? Or neither?”

“Are you asking me to hurt your feelings?” Hope laughed, watching as Buck’s eyebrows creased for a second before his face became expressionless once more.

“Well, when you put it like that…”

“HOPE! There you are, I've been looking everywhere. Franks fueled up the plane. We have to go,” Ruth huffed, clearly out of breath from running but her flushed cheeks Hope thought told a different story.

“Okay, I'll be over in five minutes,” Hope promised but Ruth didn't look convinced.

“Your five minutes or an actual five minutes,” the glare Hope sent her way had Ruth turning around and heading back in the direction she’d come. “Okay, but I'll be timing you.”

“I guess this is goodbye,” Buck smiled sadly but Hope just shook her head.

“It doesn't have to be goodbye.” Buck raised his eyebrows, unsure if she was joking or being serious.

“I don't want it to be goodbye,” she added, giving him the most genuine smile he'd ever seen. “Our base isn't too far away and if you want you can write to me. Hugh has my address.” She added curtly as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Alright, I will.”

Seemingly pleased by this response, Hope leaned forward and placed her lips against his cheek. Despite the slight layer of stubble, his skin was soft and it had Hope wondering what his lips felt like.

“Goodbye, for now then, Major Cleven.” Hope hopped out of the truck, saluting the pilot.

“Goodbye, for now, Nurse Armstrong.”

Buck watched as Hope hurried across the field after her friend, her hips swaying as she walked, and although Buck appreciated the view he didn't like watching her walk away from him, but he supposed if she never walked away, he’d never see her walking back towards him.

Tags: @georgieluz @malarkgirlypop @docroesmorphine @major-mads @violetdaze25 @bcofl0ve @precious-little-scoundrel @kmc1989

[arcanechariot]

rating: explicit.

relationship(s): poe dameron / reader (gender not specified).

tags: (light) dom/sub, mentor/student, praise kink, seduction.

word count: 1.9k+

(this was going to be a full-length fic but i ran out of steam bc ive been writing my uni essay on existential therapy 😑😑)

The hangar hums with the low, steady hum of machinery. You wipe a streak of grime from the polished hull of Poe's x-wing, the familiar curves and angles a comfort. It's a quiet moment, a rare respite from the chaos of the Resistance. You've volunteered to clean his ship, a simple task, but one that allows you to be near him.

Poe emerges from the cockpit, a grin playing on his lips. Damn, he's just so handsome, the type of guy who turns heads. Not only because he's easy on the eyes, with his wavy black hair and warm brown eyes, but because he's also the Resistance's top pilot, their undisputed star, a hero. He could have his pick of anyone…

"Well, well, well, if it isn't my favourite recruit." He drawls, leaning against the side of the craft. His eyes, dark and sweet, twinkle with amusement.

"Captain." You reply, a hint of a smile tugging at your lips. You can't help but feel a blush creeping up your cheeks. Being around him always makes you feel a little tongue-tied.

"You're looking a little tired. Need a hand with that?" He offers, a playful glint in his eyes.

"No, I'm good, Captain." You insist, determined to finish the task on your own.

"Alright, alright." He concedes, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. God, those lips. They just look so soft and kissable… "But if you need anything, just holler."

As he walks away, you can't help but steal a glance at his back. His confident stride, the way he carries himself with such ease, it's both inspiring and intimidating. Broad shoulders, lean muscles… There's no doubt, he's an attractive man. But you're a rational person. You're certainly not going to swoon over a superior officer, no matter how handsome he is.

You return to your task, the hum of the hangar filling the silence. A thought, a small, hopeful seed, begins to grow in your mind. You've always admired the Captain's piloting skills, the way he effortlessly manoeuvres his x-wing through the stars. A bold idea takes shape.

"Captain?" You call out, your voice barely a whisper. He turns, his eyebrows raised in question.

"Yeah?" You hesitate, your heart pounding in your chest.

"I was wondering…if maybe you could teach me how to fly an x-wing?" A wide grin spreads across his face. What you wouldn't give to see that smile every morning…

"You wanna learn to fly an x-wing?" He asks, his voice filled with surprise and amusement.

"Well, yeah." You stammer, feeling a flush rise to your cheeks. "I mean, if you have the time, of course." He leans against the frame of the hangar door, his arms crossed.

"I suppose I could make some time for my favourite recruit." He says, a playful glint in his eye. "But you'll have to work hard and you'll have to follow my lead." A wave of excitement washes over you.

"I can do that." You assure him, your voice filled with determination.

"Good." Poe says, a satisfied smile on his face. "Because I'm gonna make you the best pilot in the Resistance."

You climb up into the cockpit of the x-wing, taking a moment to appreciate its size and complexity. So many buttons and switches and screens. Where to even begin?

Thankfully, it's big enough to fit the two of you. Poe slides in beside you, making your space in the close quarters seem that much smaller. Close enough that you can feel the warmth of his body through his flight-suit. You pretty much have to sit in his lap to get the hatch shut.

The smell of his aftershave fills the cockpit. Something fresh but masculine, mixed with engine oil and ozone. You resist the urge to breathe him in.

"Comfy? Good. Now, let's start with the basics. These controls here? They'll be your new best friends." He walks you through the controls one by one. He starts slowly, watching and correcting your every movement. You find yourself envying his confidence and grace. "First thing you need to know; my ship doesn't like being bossed around. You gotta talk to her, be gentle but firm. Like this." As he speaks, his hands move with ease across the console, his tone relaxed and calm. You can't help but watch him, the way his mouth moves, his long lashes, the light stubble dusted across his jaw. It's hypnotic. "Now, your turn. Try powering up the engines." He gestures at the ignition, giving you the all clear to take control.

"O-Okay…" You hesitantly push the ignition but your touch is too light and you don't get the satisfying growl of the engine. It stalls and sputters under your tentative touch. He turns to you, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

"Too gentle, rookie." Your mind goes blank. In a matter of seconds, your palms are sweating, your heart racing in your chest.

"Sorry, Captain… Let me try again." You push the ignition again, firmer this time, with more conviction, and the engines roar to life. The Captain nods in approval, his eyes warm and encouraging.

"Better. Now, let's work on navigating. Grab the stick." He hands you the control yoke, his fingers brushing against yours as he does so. The touch, brief and unexpected, sends a rush of heat to your cheeks. His voice drops lower, so soft and smooth and sexy. "It's sensitive, yeah? Work with her, be gentle." He places his hand over yours, his breath warm in your ear. "Move her how you want to be moved." Suddenly, you realise you're holding your breath.

You let out a shaky breath and pull back on the yoke, gently lifting the x-wing off the ground and hovering it out of the hangar doors. Pride swells in your chest as you find yourself drifting above the trees, the valley laid out beneath you. It's exciting, exhilarating, and awe-inspiring, especially with the man of your dreams sharing the view. A perfect moment, almost too perfect…

His hand tightens around yours as he talks you through a basic manoeuvre. "See these buttons here? They control the thrusters. You'll need to use them to keep her stable during turns." His thumb rubs against your knuckles as he demonstrates the controls, his touch deliberate and familiar. Like he's touching you not because he has to but because he wants to. You inhale a shaky breath.

"Captain…"

"Mhmm…?" He turns his head towards you, his face close to yours, his breath warm on your skin. "You're doing great. Natural talent." You swear his eyes flick down to your lips for the briefest moment before he turns his gaze back to the horizon. "Eyes on the sky, rookie." That's when you notice, you've drifted slightly off-course.

You manage to pull back upright again and, when he speaks, his tone is soft, thoughtful even. "You're not what I expected." His words are casual but you sense a deeper meaning, some hidden implication.

"What do you mean?" You ask, your stomach in knots as you await his response.

"I mean, most recruits are either terrified of me or trying to impress me with their fancy-schmancy flying. You're just…you." For a moment, he's quiet. And then… "Find us a night spot to land."

You spot a perfect clearing, nestled between a grove of tall trees and a stream. Bringing the x-wing down smoothly, you sigh as the engines whine and the craft touches down on the grass.

"Nicely done." Poe quips, seemingly impressed with your performance. The look in his eyes, so warm and earnest, sends a wave of butterflies fluttering through your stomach. "Y'know, it can get real hairy up there, can really put a strain on a guy's nerves. So I'm gonna teach you a little lesson in relaxation, okay? One of my tricks." A mischievous smile spreads across his face. "Stress in pilots can kill faster than fire. We can't have that. But don't worry, I know just the thing."

You realise you're still more or less sat in his lap and you stiffen slightly. "First, you need to let go of all that tension." His voice is low and soothing. "Take a deep breath." He demonstrates, inhaling deeply. His chest rises, the fabric of his flight-suit stretching to contain his fit physique. As he exhales, his breath ghosts across your cheek, sending a rush of warmth down your spine. You do the same. "Good. Now let it out slow."

He leans back in the seat, his eyes never leaving yours. "And try to unclench your jaw." You try your best to follow his orders but your breath catches as he shrugs off his jacket and tosses it aside, fully revealing his flight-suit. The fabric hugs his body, accentuating his broad shoulders and strong arms. "Now, this relaxation technique is something you can do with…any crew members you trust or…" His lips twitch into a smile. "With someone who makes you feel…special." Your eyes meet his and, in that moment, there's no one else in the galaxy except the two of you, alone together.

He reaches out and gently takes your jaw in hand, his thumb brushing against your lips. "Just relax and trust me." You take another steadying breath.

"Yes, Captain…" His other hand moves to your hair, stroking softly, running his fingertips through it, before trailing his fingers to the nape of your neck, causing you to shiver. He applies the gentlest pressure and you go easily, sliding from his lap and turning, sliding yourself into the footwell and positioning your body between his legs. He looks so handsome from this angle, so powerful, that it makes your mouth water.

"Good job." He still keeps a hand firmly on your jaw, his thumb stroking along your cheek. "Now take a breath and stay relaxed, okay?" You breathe slowly, the scent of him filling your nose. It's stronger down here, more musky and masculine. "I'll teach you how to do it for me and then I'll do it for you, okay?" You nod, your jaw relaxing at his touch, pliant and willing to accept his guidance.

"A-Alright…" He smiles down at you, breathing deeply and encouraging you to do the same. There's an intensity to his gaze that's overwhelming, mesmerising. His free hand moves to the zipper of his flight-suit, grasping it and pulling it down slowly.

"Captain…" The word comes out, almost a warning, but he placates you.

"Shh… Focus on my voice, my breathing, yeah? Don't break eye contact." He opens his flight-suit, exposing his bare torso. Lean but strong. He pulls the zipper down further and further, slowly revealing the beginnings of the dark trail of hair that leads below the flight-suit. Then down further… "Keep your eyes on me, okay? Don't look away, no matter what happens." Your cheeks flush hot and you inhale sharply as you see his free hand in your peripheral vision, a thumb hooking into the waistband of his boxers, slowly pulling it down. "Just…trust me."

"I trust you…" You gasp as he finally reveals himself to you, his cock resting against his belly. You don't get a good look because you're still focused on his face but the few glimpses you get take your breath away.

"Eyes on me, rookie. Breathing…" He reminds you, the hand on your jaw slowly pulling you forward, inching you closer to him. You comply, staring into his eyes, breathing deeply, the nerves now warring with an eagerness and excitement.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, your lips are pressed against him. "You're doing so good. Open your mouth…"

[notasapleasure]

Wild hopes for Andor S2:

Oh, apparently blorbo *might* be in the trailer? Riding a speeder on Dantooine you say? Aughhhh don't toy with my emotions like this!!

So for posterity, before anything about s2 does actually become clear, my vague hopes/'if I got to write their story' headcanons for my Ferrix badasses are a jumble of the following:

I don't see them immediately going back to Ferrix, they're recognisable (Bix is known to the Empire, Wilmon will be known by association with Salman, Bee is known as Maarva's droid, they had an eye on Brasso as 'the big guy' even before he fucked shit up with the funerary brick...and I can't remember Jezzi doing anything specific but she'll have been seen round Maarva's home and funeral), and riot or not, I'd say the Empire will be in the mood to make an example of Ferrix rather than to go 'oops our bad we'll leave you in peace'. So it seems a bad idea for the fugitives to return there for their rebellion as soon as they've left.

On that ship we know there's a skilled electrician (Wilmon) and mechanic (Bix), and I've always presumed Brasso must know his way around a ship well enough to be able to take it apart, and that Jezzi has some similarly Ferrixian industrial skill. I thought it would be very sexy if they all got involved in making/repurposing tech for the rebellion. In my heart of hearts they're patching together the first fleet of X-Wings.

Orange. Ferrix orange (Brasso's felt jacket orange) and rebel pilot orange. And there's the shot of Cassian in an orange pilot's suit in the trailer. I just. I just have hopes. And dreams. And colour was so significant in Rogue One (the red of the force/rebellion...there was an awesome post on here pointing out way more examples than I'd noticed, but I always think of the lining of Jyn's vest). Maybe it's reclaiming Narkina orange, even? But the look of the Ferrix clothes reminds me so much of the OT aesthetic, I think that's got to be the more likely connection.

Bee? Kay? Do they meet? ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ trying to suppress the thought 'what if Bee helps to make Kay possible?' but the thought has been thunk. (ETA: NOT into the theory that they're the same person that's not what I mean. I'm talking hardware donation. Wires and chips. Not personality)

Dantooine. Dantooine base. After all this time!!!! What Legends book did I first read about the base on Dantooine in?? idek but if I'd ever written the epic angsty plot follow-up to that one fic (only ever just one night) it would have involved the Ferrix gang making X-Wings work on Dantooine :') I have feelings about Brasso the wrecker learning to make things instead :))

It should go without saying that I want to see Bix channel her healing into getting stuff done and fucking up the Empire.

I guess my feeling is that if we're time-skipping over a five year period in a, what, 12 episode season? There's not time for a huge arc for all the Ferrix characters alongside everything else the show needs to cover. My cautious assumption is that this either means a load of them get killed off/sidelined early, or they're kept together in the same setting so their stories are interlinked, but presumably with focus remaining on Bix (and Bee). Dantooine/wherever the rebel base is beforehand/the move to Yavin struck me as a good place for this, where they can still be brought in and out of episodes through whatever time-skips happen because it's a place the title character is going to be coming and going from regularly, like Ferrix is in S1. Naturally it is a selfish thought to want to recreate the S1 dynamic :)) because I want my blorbo(s) to get to be relevant and a part of Cassian's life still, but if that suggestion about Brasso on a speeder on Dantooine in the trailer is remotely accurate then I will cry happy tears.

Who knows, if they get to survive, maybe all those heart-pulverising fics and fanarts about Cassian's (glass) stone being laid on Ferrix will find a place at the end of the series?

[anatee]

The Cockpit | Poe Dameron x Reader Smut

The Cockpit | Poe Dameron x Reader Smut 18+ | MINORS DNI.

Content: Female!Reader x Poe, a few curse words, one very bad pun, smut: suggestive talking and mentions of previous encounters, risky, hickeys, fingering, piv (unprotected), just filth really

Word count: 3.64K

Author's note: Finally had the time to write something for Poe - and when I tell you I am feral for this man. I wrote this in a few hours, on a roll. Enjoy.

Poe: I'll be back tonight.

A smile spread on Y/N's face as that message lit up her datapad. Poe was finally coming back from his mission, safe and sound, and there were no words to express how much she missed him - in fact, her whole body did.

It all started no longer than two months earlier. They had been teasing each other every time since Y/N joined the Resistance a year earlier, but on that particular evening one thing let to another and before they knew it, they were all over each other, making love passionately in his quarters.

Ever since then, each and every tease had a double meaning, and they could both confidently say they had a thing going on, as there was always some sexual tension between them waiting to be resloved. Her being a mechanic and him being a pilot, they didn't have any difficulties to make up excuses to see each other quite often.

Me: What a relief. I've missed you.

Y/N's response was sincere, but it was also safe - she could not stop herself from teasing him a little as well.

Me: So has my body.

She knew it would do the trick. She knew he was absolutely obsessed with being touchy, with almost worshipping her body as he often whispered breathy compliments while his coarse hands roamed all over her skin. Hence, his quick response didn't surprise her.

Poe: You can't be sending me messages like that or I'll have problems flying the ship.

Me: Oh, why? Did I fluster the greatest pilot of the Resistance? ;)

Poe: I'll get you back for this.

Me: Is that so? And what are you gonna do? Have another mechanic check your ship?

Even though she thought she had the upper hand for a moment, Poe retaliated quickly - he was no ordinary opponent in that type of conversations.

Poe: Be patient, love. Although considering how little patience you had last time when you were all over me, it may be difficult...

The audacity - as if he weren't the needy one, showing it each and every time he pulled her towards himself aggressively, grabbing her thighs, hips, wrists, anything he could dig his fingers into, roughly at that, because he had little patience, too.

Me: You loved every second of it.

Poe: Yes, I did. But it was you begging for more, wasn't it? ;)

Me: Oh, fuck you.

Poe: You will.

Her heart skipped a beat as she swallowed, the feelings this message caused in her burning in her abdomen.

That guy. No one in this galaxy could make her feel even something remotely close to what he did. She was weak for him in every sense of the word, always craving more of what he had to offer. It was going to be hard, these few more hours of waiting...

Poe's X-wing landed at the Resistance base at night, among the sounds of loud cheers. Many people wanted to greet him, congratulate on the successful mission... And he was happy to meet them, and be safe home again, but his mind had been wandering elsewhere all day.

He took his ship to the hangar and there was immediately surrounded by his friends. He only caught a glimpse of Y/N in the crowd before General Organa called him in for a report; he decided to go and meet Y/N later - he had a feeling the moment he actually spoke to her, he wouldn't be able to control himself.

As a mechanic, she immediately started checking his X-wing for any damage it might have sustained during the mission. The hangar had become empty and quiet by the time she started fixing a minor fault in the flaperon. It was only her, dim lights and every sound echoing against the walls of the spacious room.

"Look who we have here."

Y/N felt as though an electric shock surged through her body as she heard that familiar husky voice right behind her. She almost dropped her tools, then composed herself quickly before turning to face him, adjusting her tight grey shirt.

Poe was standing there, arms crossed over his chest, leaning against his X-wing in a khaki shirt and his favourite jacket, a smirk on his face. She bit her lip; she couldn't help but marvel at how handsome he was every time she saw him. There was just so much to love, so much to desire - the big hands, the wide shoulders, the sharp jaw and the lucious hair, even more attractive now that it was a bit messy.

"Look who's back," she said, crossing her arms over her chest as well, trying not to show how much she wanted to throw herself over him. That week away from him made her realise how much she got addicted.

"Missed me, love?" he asked as if he did not know the answer, looking her up and down.

"Maybe." She shrugged, also realising they were both just playing.

She wanted to tease him so more, but he had other plans. He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her to himself, making their bodies bump into each other. She chuckled, then gave him a smirk.

"And who's impatient now?"

"You can't imagine how much I needed you," he whispered into her ear, nibbling on it just slightly, barely, and yet that was enough to send a shiver down her spine.

"Glad you're safe," she whispered back, and he pulled away to look into her eyes.

"I'm happy you're safe, too." He put his hand on her cheek, then moved his thumb over it affectionately. "You already fixing this?" he added, indicating the flaperon.

"That's my job, isn't it?"

"Yeah, but that's not the priority, really. I need your help in the cockpit. I've had some issues with the joystick."

"Oh?" She raised an eyebrow.

Before she could ask more, Poe climbed the side of his X-wing, then jumped into the cockpit swiftly. He beckoned her to follow, and so she did, staying on the ladder next to the ship.

"You should get inside here to see," he said, indicating the small cockpit.

"Inside?" She raised an eyebrow. "This cockpit isn't exactly a fit for more than one person."

He couldn't help but smirk again. "Afraid of getting close to me, my little mechanic?

He knew she wouldn't back down from such a challenge, and he was right. Without a second thought, she quickly climbed inside the cockpit and had no choice but to sit in his lap, trapped between his chest and the controls. The moment she did that, she realised how easily she had fallen into Poe's trap.

He let out a snigger, putting his hands on her hips. "And now... I have you right where I want you."

"I should've predicted that..." she said in defeat, as though she didn't enjoy every second of it.

He laughed again, clearly satisfied with that response. "I told you I'd get you back, love... Tell me you weren't basically asking for it. I'd say your messages were quite clear."

Having accepted her fate, Y/N smiled, bathing in that blissful feeling of his large hands on her body. Even through the material of her pants, it was enough to make her feel just that much hotter.

"I suppose there is another joystick that needs my attention here, huh?" she bit back just to hear another snicker, his hands slowly wandering up the sides of her body and down again.

"So cheeky," he said as if it were a compliment. "Can't help but love that about you." He was so close she could feel his hot breath on her neck.

"I get that from you, flyboy."

"Flyboy?" he almost sounded offended, but, at the same time, his playful tone didn't leave him. "You know, I'd admit... I've always had a fantasy to do this here." He kissed her neck, softly at first, just to plant two more, passionate kisses right after. She let out a small sigh; the hickeys he left on her the night before his mission had barely healed, and she knew that he would not stop himself from creating new ones, especially now that he knew all her weakest points.

"I figured as much." She chuckled. "I guess this is called a cockpit for a reason."

He laughed against her neck, hot breath tingling the spots that were already wet from his kisses as his hands kept roaming. He kissed the side of her neck again, finding a particularly sensitive spot right on her artery, which he grazed with his teeth, earning another sigh from her.

"You know... I've missed you too much to be watching your back," he said sensually, his hands gripping her hips again. "I want to see your eyes as I work my magic..."

Poe helped her turn on his lap in the small cockpit, then pulled her as close to himself as possible, their chests colliding.

"Now, that's much better, isn't it, love?" he said quietly while his eyes wandered to the revealing cleavage of her shirt. "You'd put that on for me?"

"Oh, don't flatter yourself, Dameron." She put her hands on his shoulders. "You know I always dress like this."

He wasn't buying it - or, at the very least, he didn't want to.

"But you knew I'd be coming to have all of this for myself. And I can think of only one thing when I see you like that."

Before she could react in any way, he buried his face between her breasts, breathing in her scent and kissing the soft skin he worshipped so much while his hands slid down to squeeze her buttocks.

"How come you always smell so good?" he said groggily, his voice alone making her heart beat faster.

"Showers, flyboy."

He opened his mouth for a moment, then stared at her in mild disbelief.

"Feisty, are we?" he asked eventually, unwilling to admit defeat. "I see... I'm being too nice to you. Perhaps you should show me how much you missed me. I am, after all, a tired hero..."

Finally, she gave in and decided to act, too. She quickly started helping him out of his jacket, and he understood immediately, raising his arms slightly so she could take it off. She threw it over the side of the ship and let it fall to the hangar floor, then leaned in just slightly. For him, it worked immediately; he grabbed her jaw with both his hands and pulled her to himself almost posesssively to kiss her with hunger. The desire they had been both feeling during their separation finally starting to resolve. He didn't restrain himself one bit, almost devouring her through the feverish kisses. He let his tongue taste her, too, remembering what a wonderful taste it was.

The kissing and breathing sounds echoed in the empty hangar, with occasional moans and grunts in between they could not control. While Y/N kept her hand on his nape, pulling him closer, his arms were exploring her body, as if trying to touch each and every inch of it.

The moment she shifted slightly to adjust her sitting position on him, he pulled away, letting out a short groan. She knew that sound already and looked down.

"Someone's got a little excited there."

He traced her jaw with his finger. "You can't imagine how many times I was sitting there and wished you would be here... Just like that."

"Dreams do come true, Commander."

Using his rank was another thing that did it for him. He grabbed the straps of her shirt and pulled them down so the material fell and uncovered her breasts. He took a deep breath at the sight as he realised she had no bra on. The sight seemed to have rendered him speechless; he forgot everything he was doing to stop and marvel, so she seized the chance. She grinded herself against him, slowly, catching him my surprise. He let out a small gasp, one that satisfied her greatly.

"Keep up with me," Y/N said teasingly, and she could almost see the lust gleam in Poe's eyes when she did.

"You asked for it," he replied huskily, knowing what he could do to her just by using that voice.

His hands reached for her pants. He unzipped them, then she stood up and, although it was a bit difficult in the small cockpit, he eventually managed to take her pants off of her. She was left in her panties and her shirt half down - a view he could get used to.

Y/N wanted to straddle him again, but he shook his head and pushed her ever so sligthly against the controls.

"No, stay there..." he uttered quietly, his eyes taking in her figure. "Oh, I'm gonna remember the view. You look so fucking hot right now, Y/N."

She propped herself up on her elbows, biting her lip as she took in the compliment. He was enjoying the view in front of her, too; his cheeks were flushed, his hair even more messy than before, the upper part of his shirt unbuttoned, showing some of his collarbone.

"You aren't so bad yourself, Dameron," she replied, wondering what he was planning.

His large hands first dug into her thighs, massaging them just for a moment before one of them wandered straight between her legs. He began slowly rubbing her against the white material of her panties, making her squirm immediately. It was only then when she realised how touch-starved she was; touching herself on her own was now nowhere near as satisfactory.

Poe seemed to enjoy it a little bit too much when he noticed how each and every one if his rubs provoked different reactions from her. Sighs, soft moans, her biting her lip to stop herself and spreading her legs wider almost absent-mindedly... He knew he would not be able to control himself for much longer. Her reactions were one of the things he enjoyed most about all of their encounters.

"Seems like you needed me just as much... But why so quiet, love?" He looked her straight in the eye, wondering where his favourite moans went to - especially the ones mentioning his name.

"Quiet?" She panted. "I'd say I'm being too... Loud..." Another soft moan escaped her lips as he picked up the pace, the material between his fingers already wet.

He chuckled. "I know for a fact that you can be a hell lot louder than that."

"This isn't exactly a private place... What if someone hears?" she asked between heavy breaths as he did not stop, quite the contrary, he focused on rubbing her clit directly, having learned that works like a dream.

He seemed completely unbothered, shrugging. "The best pilot of the Resistance has his needs. And it so happens hearing these moans of yours is one of them."

He used his free hand to close the cockpit, cutting them out from the outside world with a triumphant expression.

"Don't restrain yourself, love."

Having said that, he grabbed the material of the panties and moved it to the side, uncovering her soaked folds. His fingers went back to work at once, this time flesh to flesh, driving her crazy in a matter of seconds.

He slipped in two of his fingers inside her almost effortlessly, then began pumping in and out quickly, making her throw her head back as she buckled her hips to meet even more of his touch. He smirked at that as his other hand kept on circling her clit.

"I don't have enough hands for everything I want to touch..."

"But you have something else," she breathed out as her body was begging her to have him inside it. As pleasurable as what he was doing was, his fingers were simply not enough. She craved all of him, especially after missing him and worrying because of his mission.

For a moment, she heard nothing but pounding of her heart in her ears as she reached for his belt and unbuckled it.

"Well, won't you look at that." He smiled smugly, taking his hand back for a moment. "A week without me and you've become wild. Maybe I should leave more often?"

"Don't you dare," she hissed, still panting as she unzipped his pants.

He wasn't going to stop her, he didn't even tease her - instead, he lifted his hips slightly to allow her to pull down both his pants and boxers, uncovering his erection. She looked at it shamlessly, then glanced back between her legs, where the wetness was starting to drip down her thigh.

"Seems like we both have to be taken care of."

"How fortunate," he grabbed her by the hips again. "May I?"

"Not you asking now like you didn't fuck me senseless the night before you left."

He smirked again, getting even more aroused at the memory of that night. "Oh, sorry for being a gentleman, love," he said sarcastically. "Let me fix that."

Before she could react, he aligned her position, then lowered her onto his cock roughly, earning a yelp out of her. He let out a short grunt, keeping his eyes on her face so as not to miss any reactions.

"Not so confident now, are you?"

"You... Oh, fuck..." She took a deep breath, trying to adjust herself to such a sudden change.

He sniggered yet again. "That I will, love."

The first thrust of his hips felt like a sigh of relief after days of longing. They both needed that, probably more than they thought up until this moment. He was dragging his cock slowly but with power, helping himself by guiding her hips while she started responding. The smallness of the cockpit made them unable to escape anywhere; they were as close to each other as possible, Y/N's nipples hardening as they rubbed against his chest. He filled her up to the brim with every thrust, still slowly, allowing both of them to relish in the bliss of the moment.

His hands moved to grab her ass firmly and kept on guiding her while her mouth travelled to his neck this time - she wanted to leave a few marks for him as well.

"I could do this all night," he rasped, their hips rocking in unision.

In response, she only let out a short cry against his neck as his cock found a particular spot, and the pleasure it gave her almost made her lose balance. She grabbed onto his shoulders, her cheeks flushed.

"Poe, faster," she moaned, unable to bear the feeling of release almost coming and then quickly going away every time he slowed down.

These two words almost turned him feral.

"Oh, what was that?" he asked even though they both knew he heard her loud and clear.

"I beg you," she whispered, placing a pleading kiss on his neck.

"Now that's what I like."

A triumphant expression took over him as he leaned her against the controls, taking some of her weight off of him. It allowed him to move faster just like she wanted, and hell, he enjoyed it too, feeling almost an animalistic need for the inevitable orgasm building up inside him. He really didn't need much; she turned him on mkre than anybody did.

He moved as fast as he could in the position they were in, bathing in the blissful sensations and sounds coming out of her, not even caring if someone was going to catch them. The sweat on her forehead, her throwing her head back, and everything happening right there, in the cockpit of his ship as he had fantasised... It was enough to drive a man crazy.

She kept on rocking her hips to match his movements and meet him deep inside, just so he would keep on hitting that spot which felt best. She noticed how he furrowed his brow and his breath became heavier, letting her know he was close. She could not blame him as she herself felt she needed just a few more thrusts.

"Come with me, love," he said breathily, prompting her to grab his shoulders tighter. Yes, she wanted to do that, it would be such a bliss...

"Poe... I'm so..." she wanted to tell him she would, but words failed her. Instead, immense pleasure washed over her as she felt herself gush all over his cock.

Mere seconds later, he filled her up to the brim with his cum, swearing under his breath. He had been waiting for this, and the indescrabibly pleasurable sensation was worth the wait.

Moments later, everything stopped, and they both fell into each other's arms, breathless. Y/N slowly raised herself, letting his penis slip out of her, his cum followinig right after, some of it landing on the pilot seat.

"Now... That's gonna leave a stain."

He glanced down and shrugged. "I'll have something to remember this by. I'm addicted to this. To you," he said in a hushed tone, then leaned in to leave a passionate kiss on her lips.

"I believe I could told you the same." Y/N smiled, wondering how she could have ever lived without this.

"Just so you know," his arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer again, "we're doing this again. Now. We have seven days to catch up on."

Damn. He got her all exicted again in mere seconds, barely after allowing her to take in the orgasm from a minute earlier. It seemed like her legs were opening again just as he spoke, her body remembering how wonderful it felt to be connected with his.

"I am definitely not going to stop you."

"And this time..." His hands wandered up from her hips straight to her breasts. "I believe these two need my attention."

[bitwhizzle]

WIP Game

Rules: In a new post, post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

I was tagged by @codythecheshirecat a while ago!

I have MANY WIPs, but I will only list the current ACTIVE ones...(which means I have worked on them in the last...year at least...)

Wedge Beta

Hobbie_full

wes story

Kenobi what if - soothed

Guardian Squad

Tech

Echo Casey

kix fic

Howzer TAKE CARE

Cody SOLDIER FIRST

fives fic

Rex SAVE ONE

Team GB

Price Ghost

Okay...this is scary.

I'm not tagging anyone because I don't know who to tag...so if you feel like playing, have at 'er!

[anamelessfool]

Outlaw F!Reader x "The Ghoul" Cooper Howard (18+ MDNI) Full Fic here on AO3

Chapter 2: A Good Word (AO3 Link Here)

You're not running away from your sins, you're running towards the truth.

The expectation of an Overseer is to be of pleasant temperament, with a neat and well-manicured appearance. You are the friendly face of your Vault, a representation of the hospitality and amiable atomosphere cultivated here at Vault-Tech Industries. And the family at Vault-Tech Industries knows that the best leaders are in their hearts the most dedicated followers.

Tags: Read Em All on AO3, Blood and Gore, Gunplay, Broken Bones, Bandits & Outlaws, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Dystopia, Blood and Injury, Mystery and Intrigue, Western

Full Chapter because it's small below the cut!

White sails…white sails against the blue steel of the vault doors. Dangling like the shattered wings of a seagull. Or at least what you think are seagulls. You have read about them and it is important to keep oneself in the know when it comes to extinct creatures.

Your breath coats the glass of your hazmat helmet while the RAD meter on your PiP boy crackles, whines. It's the historic fog of the estuary. The wind off the ocean blows the moisture almost daily across the land. Fog thick with radiation. The foliage has responded in kind, growing small and meek and clinging to rocks like slime. Around you are the blackened bones of ancient trees, some you knew were hundreds of feet high and thousands of years old. Some of the oldest life forms on the planet. Now their remains stick out from the soil like toothpicks on a cheese platter.

But back to the white sails. You see them now as you come close. It was some sort of glider. A ridable kite.

Your surface recovery team had discovered the craft after hearing a loud bang across the outer vault doors this afternoon. The crash was soon after the thick fog rolled in. The occupant was dying, but he requested to see the Overseer.

He requested to see you. Alone.

And the moment you see him lodged in the ruined cockpit you freeze. He's wearing a gold jumpsuit with blue striped details, an unmistakable mark of authority. An executive. An Overseer of overseers. If the Vaults in Area 33 are little hives of productivity and human civilization, the Executives are the beekeepers. They have their own vault in the center of the molecule that is Area 33. And from there they do what they please. And apparently that includes joyriding gliders along the coast.

You know, rich people stuff. Successful people hobbies.

Your heart starts to pound, but it's not with dread or fear or despair for the pilot.

The executives give out promotions sometimes. Transfers. And even though this one's dying, you always want to give a good impression. You have been working on your resume for a while now, anyway.

“Hello! Welcome to Vault 66!”

You try to be friendly and upbeat, even though the man has been slowly dying from a shattered spine and skull injury for two hours now. “This fog sure is a real chestnut, isn't it?” You chuckle. “Although I bet the views of the ocean from up where you were flying were spectacular.”

“They….were…”

You cheerily give him your name. Your title. You would shake the man's hand if it wasn't permanently pinned under some sort of crumpled control panel. “You wanted to see me, sir?”

“Yes…” He coughs, groans. “Come close. Closer.”

You position yourself as deep into the cockpit as your clunky hazmat helmet will allow.

The executive winces and recovers. “Unzip my jumpsuit.”

“Uh…” Your brow furrows as you search your mind for protocol. You don't remember this being a scenario from the training slideshows. Is this considered workplace harassment? Quid pro quo? Personal space issues? To be fair, the destroyed remains of a vehicular accident could be classed as a hostile work environment. You give him a small, polite smile. “Repeat that again, sir?”

“Unzip my jumpsuit. That's an order, Overseer.”

“Sure thing, sir,” you laugh nervously, and unzip the front to expose his stained undershirt.

“Inner…left…pocket….” He screws up his eyes in pain, expelling air across the glass of your helmet.

“Heh, right away,” you say, reaching a little too close to a man you just met. That pocket is usually reserved for private things. Vitamins. Tissues. Feminine products. Fertility Tablets. Anti-fertility tablets. Intimate….devices. Not really something that another person reaches in unless they have a headcold or are busy repopulating the planet. What comes out of his inner pocket is an item you've never seen before. It’s small, half the size of a PiP boy screen, and thin. Made of a gold material. The front has a small digital panel that displays a long serial number that as you stare at it, wipes away and reconfigures every thirty seconds. You flip the little device over and a shine slides across it— you're convinced it's made of pure gold with some sort of tiny nuclear battery inside. A pocket atomic clock. To tell what, you're unsure. On the back is stamped a few mysterious numbers:

34.8559704, -111.7801052

You flash him a friendly smile but you feel the strain behind your eyes. “Um sir, what is this?”

“Vault Tech Company Property. Absolutely top secret. Override previous protocol. You are to keep this in your intimates pocket until further notice. You are not to inform a soul.” He coughs again, and blood flecks across the glass of your mask. “Got, that Vault 33-66 Overseer?”

You throw on your professional service smile, nodding with gratitude. “My pleasure, sir! Would—”

You start to request that he put in a good word for you but then you suddenly remember that the only other executive he's going to see soon is his own Maker.

“And another order, Overseer.”

“Hmm? What's that?”

“I'm giving you authorization to put me out of my goddam misery.”

“Oh…right.” You laugh nervously, pulling your gun from its holster at your hip. Lucky for him it was mating season for the RAD Seals and without a solid authentic piece a topside forager would be a pile of bone and jelly on the beach. You cock it and press it to his head, leaning back and getting into Stabilized Proper Armament Form (SPAF). “Well, sir, it's been a pleasure. Thanks for stopping by.”

And you pull the trigger.

My Fic List (Oops all Ghost!)

[not-so-allegiant-general]

Better way

" There must be a better way…" "Must be? What do you want me to do? Live on some kind of remote rock? Hide for the rest of my life? This is death for me. Surrender to the Republic? Let them lock me? This is death for me, Ren. If I have a choice between waiting for death and doing it now, by myself, I prefer to do it now. I am nothing without First Order, Ren. Nothing. It was all my life. This station, the ship, the rank. I am nothing without it. "Not to me" "Ren." "You are engineer." "I am. Do you think they will let me touch any data pad, droid or blueprint in the Republic? No Ren." Kylo lowered his head. Hux sighed. "On Arkanis people believe that commander should go down with his ship. I should have died. Twice. On Starkiller and on Finalizer. I'm already on borrowed time, Ren. " "Maybe it's not borrowed. Maybe it's given. Maybe you have something more to do here Armitage.” "You know I don't believe in this." "Armitage… " "Why!? Why you could choose this way out?! And I suddenly cannot? You left me! You left me alone and now you appeare and talk this force nonsenses!? Pffasking hypocrite.!" "Believe me if there was a different way for me, I would choose it. But there was not" Hux snorted. "Batna shit. Pffasking hero." "You are mad it's alright I… " "I am not mad Ren. I am disappointed. Betrayed and… And… And Heart broken. „He whispered looking at him " and to think that one your word would be enough. One word. I would leave all of that" he took of his hat and toss it off the cliff "All Ren. I would agree even to live on some lowly planet in Outer Rims. And you… You fled to Exegol alone. With… With this girl just to ruin my life…" "It… Hux, you know it's not like that I…" "Who are you even? Because I don't know any more." Kylo took a step back not looking at him. "Please." "You have no right to ask me for anything." He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "You are not even real. Probably just hallucination from stims overdose. Leave me." "No. I won't. I promise you if you do that, I will make sure to find a way to haunt you." Hux snorted. "Hugs! Hux! Step back!" Poe was running from his x-wing as fast as he could "Hux!" Redhead glanced at him and then looked at Kylo. "You were always terrible when it comes to threats." "Hux no…" Hux took a step and fell. Poe grabbed his coat and pulled, but Hux let his arms slip from the sleeves. Poe cursed holding only black coat in his grip. He stared down in horror, breathing heavily.

Kylo stood by his side silently, watched Hux falling down, felt his fear, his pain. He looked down on kneeling pilot and sat down next to him. They sat together. Past and future love. Poe completely unaware of the presence of the other and the future he could have and Kylo painfully aware of everything.

[phantomspiderr]

The Commander & The Star

Pairing: Poe Dameron x gn!reader

Word count: 2.2k+

Summary: Maybe you realised you love your best friend when it’s too late

Warnings/Tags: mentions of death, injury, explosions, fire, guilt, also a couple swears in there, probably the most angst I’ve ever written(I promise there’s a happy ending), cocky Poe Dameron, overuse of the words TIE Fighter and X-Wing(sorry), in case it isn’t obvious I know nothing about flying either and there’s of course some smooching

a/n: yeah sorry this came out of nowhere and is probably a bit of a mess and ngl I don’t fully understand Star Wars but I do love Poe Dameron so… hope you enjoy!

also I’m pretty sure there’s no mentions of gender or appearance or anything like that but as always if I’ve got that wrong and there is let me know! Appreciate you all, have a wonderful day🤍

(not my gif)

･☆: *.☽ .* :☆

nonononono…

You’re stumbling over rubble, uncaringly inhaling thick smoke as your numb legs carry you across the rugged terrain. Your heart thrashes around in your rib cage as your eyes sting with tears. No one ever prepares you for this when you’re learning to fly, not even your worrying thoughts every time either of you got in an X-Wing could prepare you for this.

Just moments ago you’d watched your best friend get shot out of the sky. The best pilot in the Resistance, hell the best pilot in the galaxy had been shot down in front of your very eyes.

It was only supposed to be a recon mission on some desolate planet no one had heard of for many, many years. But of course, in all of the galaxy, the First Order had a spontaneous patrol in the exact area just by the planet you were looking for. Poe was quick to spot them but before the two of you could make a quick getaway the four TIE fighters were barrelling in your direction.

“Shit! We gotta take them down. You take the two on the left and I’ll go right,” Poe’s crackly voice coming through your speaker somehow sounds calm in the middle of all this. It doesn’t matter how many times you fly your X-Wing or fight off the enemy there’s always a twinge of doubt about your ability in the back of your mind every time. But it all washes away every single time Poe utters the words, “Hey, you’re okay. We’ve got this.”

Your X-Wings are close enough that you can look to your right and see him in his cockpit. When he looks over at you it feels like time stands still for just a second, then you share a nod before both flying off in different directions. Your ships are still connected by your communicators so you can hear all the whooping and taunting Poe does as he flies. No matter how distracting he is, the sound of his voice is always something that will calm you. Even as you manoeuvre around the two TIE Fighters that are close on your tail.

“Poe! I can’t shake these guys,” you’re pulling up trying to roll over the top of the TIE Fighters to get an advantage behind them. You’re too out in the open and you’re finding it difficult to get around them. You’d never want to admit that the First Order is good at anything but maker these pilots are brilliant.

“We need to go down,” you can hear him pushing buttons, obviously trying to figure out a plan on the spot, “ah! There’s some mountains below. We’re better down there, I’ve pinpointed it on your map okay?”

“Shit!” You jump when you suddenly see one of the Tie Fighters in front of you explode, pulling a hard left to avoid going headfirst into it.

“You’re welcome!” You can picture the smug look on Poe’s face, always looking for a way to show off. Always a little reckless too. The man’s still chasing off his own two enemies he didn’t need to pick yours off for you too.

“A little warning next time would be great,” you push a few buttons, pulling up your map on the little screen in front of you. The one TIE now behind you again, chasing you down and shooting off blasters in every direction. You try to pick up speed as you quickly descend into the planet’s atmosphere, your ship beeping and flashing red in warning.

“Careful, Star.” The callsign he’d chosen for you rolling off his tongue with ease still makes your heart do a little flip. Your mind instantaneously shifts focus onto Poe’s X-Wing flying ahead as a TIE Fighter tries to come at him from the side. You’re quick to turn toward it, expertly flipping switches and locking your launcher onto the enemy ship. You can’t help but tease Poe just a little, “Careful, Commander.” The TIE explodes just as you speak and you smugly pull away in a different direction still acutely aware of the ship following you.

“A little warning?” He mocks your previous words and you can’t help but roll your eyes. Your head switches focus back to the task at hand, you’re trying to find an opportunity to lose the guy behind you or make him crash whichever comes first. Your eyes scan the new terrain, the mountains are just ahead but it’s too open and the gap between you and the enemy is closing.

“Change of plan!” You pull up and left suddenly yanking your ship in the direction of some towering trees, “gonna try lose them in the forest.”

“Star.” Poe’s voice warns, he always hates when you split off but you’re the only one he ever trusts to make decisions on the fly. You choose to just ignore the warning until he repeats it just as you spot the TIE Fighter pull away from your rear and go towards Poe. Shit.

“Poe!” You pull back hard, your X-Wing just floating on the spot for a second before it twists and you’re trying to speed toward the other ships.

“Yeah, I see them! Can you get behind them and I’ll lead them-“ A shot clips one of Poe’s wings and you can hear the beeping coming from his control pad.

“Poe?!” You’re immediately concerned, thinking the worst as you catch up.

“I’m good, just a little damage!” If you’d been anyone else you’d have missed the tinge of worry in his voice but you’re you and you’ve been his best friend since day one. His worry bleeds into your brain and your focus falters for just a second you miss a shot on one of your enemies. It comes back quickly as you start to see Poe’s ship slowing down significantly, giving the TIEs an advantage. One tries to take his side again just like the one before while the other continues to chase him from behind. You’re just out of range to lock your blasters on the ship and you’re pushing your X-Wing to its limits now just needing to get a little closer.

“comeoncomeoncomeon!” You’re nervously mumbling, your whole body tense, “YES!” Your control pad shows it’s locked on the target and you fire rapidly before it can change. Before you can even celebrate taking down another First Order pilot you see the red beams shoot out from the TIE Fighter you’d just been pursuing right before it explodes. You watch in horror as it completely takes out Poe’s other wing and he starts spinning toward the ground. He clips the last remaining TIE Fighter on his way down and sends it spinning straight into a tree and explodes.

You screech out his name as you hear his ship beeping through your comms, you can just make out what you think is Poe hitting the control panel with his fist. He doesn’t say a word and you feel stuck in place like some kind of force is holding you there so you can watch your best friend plummet to his death into the forest below. As if someone flips a switch you’re steering down haphazardly, not being as careful as you normally are when landing your X-Wing. It’s barely on the ground before you’re tugging at your seat belts and pulling off your helmet. You forego deploying your ladder instead just ungracefully slipping down the side and landing on the ground with a thud that sends shooting pain up your legs.

There are bits of TIE Fighter smoking or on fire, there are even parts of Poe’s beloved X-Wing scattered on the ground. Your legs feel like lead as you climb up a mound covering where you’re sure Poe crash-landed. Your lungs burn as you inhale the thick smoke in the air and you’re scared. So scared. You reach the top and you almost fall straight back down, the sight before you making your legs weak. That beloved X-Wing he’d spent years working on, the thing that had tally marks scratched into the floor of how many people he’d lost so he always knew what he was fighting for. That godforsaken thing you’d both spent countless late nights fixing up, just in pieces in front of you. It’s hard to see it all, a part obviously exploded and was blowing thick dark smoke out into the air. Your eyes sting and you’re honestly not sure if it’s the smoke or the fact you think your best friend just died and you blame yourself for it already. There were so many things left unsaid, so many adventures you were supposed to go on together. You knew every time either of you flew that this could happen but some part of you thought that you were both invincible, that nothing would ever happen to you and now it has and you’re numb.

Your legs almost give out as you clumsily stumble down the mound. You can feel your body trembling as you search the wreckage for confirmation of your worst fear. You’re coughing now as you get closer finding heaps of metal you start pulling apart in hopes you’re wrong.

He won’t get to see the Residence win.

He won’t get to grow old and have the kids he said he wanted.

You won’t get to spend another day with your best friend.

You won’t get to tell him you love him.

Your thoughts race at light speed and your legs finally give out, you sink to your knees and sobs freely fall out of you.

“I-I hope those tears aren’t for me Star,” his voice is gruff, he’s coughing too and you almost think you’re hearing things until your head snaps around and you can see him limping toward you a few feet away.

“Poe? Poe!” You’re slipping on the ground as you clamber to your feet and then you’re sprinting toward him. Uncaring that you were just on the ground sobbing because you thought he was dead. He’s covered in ash and his flight suit is torn in places and singed in others. You just manage to make out the little cuts littering his handsome face that you know he’ll think make him look tough later. Then when you’re within touching distance your hands reach for his face and you don’t even realise you’re kissing him until you are. You’re kissing Poe Dameron and it feels like heaven. You’re holding onto him for dear life as if he might disappear but relief floods your brain, he’s really there, he’s alive. Then suddenly your logical brain kicks in and you abruptly pull away looking at him wide-eyed with disbelief. Your hands move away and back again before resting on his shoulders and your brain just acts like you didn’t just kiss your best friend but he hisses and recoils one shoulder away from your hand.

“Yeah I’m gonna need you to put that back in,” he jokes like you’re not now just staring at his dislocated shoulder. Your relief-addled brain had clearly missed that upon your quick inspection as you raced over. You’re trying to focus on inspecting him for any further injuries now instead of focusing on the way he tasted like those blue candies he buys in bulk because he eats so many. You don’t even look up at him when he calls your name, busying yourself with looking over a cut on his other arm and thinking if you have enough first aid supplies to treat all of this. Then he says your name a bit more sternly, his working arm swatting both yours away and he reaches up to hold your face. He tilts your head up so you’re looking directly at him now and you watch his smile grow, “how long have you been holding out on me?” You must look completely dumbfounded because he chuckles a little before it turns into a cough and then a groan of pain as he buckles over a little. You’re quick to support him, the trained medic in you taking over as you wrap his uninjured arm around your shoulders.

“Come on,” you pause for a second to collect your thoughts and find the right words to say, “we can talk about this later.” It comes out more like a question, hope seeping out of every word.

“Oh we’re not done with this,” he gives you that smug look he does when he gets a bit cocky and you can’t help the way your elbow just ever so slightly nudges his ribs, sending him into another coughing fit and wiping the cocky look off his face.

You laugh just a little as he scolds you, trying and failing to use his ‘in charge commander’ voice, “not funny! Gonna write you up for that.”

“I’d like to see you try,” still chuckling, you glance at his dislocated shoulder, the side with which he writes and you see it click in his brain when he realises.

“Oh ha ha, laugh at the injured man. I can type with my other hand y’know,” your body’s still riding high on the adrenaline but your heart is calm. Poe’s here with you, you’re both alive and maybe you’re in love with each other and you just never realised.

[callmemana]

Arms Wide Open, Catch Me If I Fall Masterlist:

Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x Amanda ‘Birdie’ Hallett

Warnings: angst & fluff

Before the urgent mission and being sent back to Top Gun, Bob had a girlfriend. The key word being ‘had.’ When he initially received the orders back, he thought of two outcomes; one he’d get orders afterwards to go to another base & 2 he’d die during. He couldn’t put that on her, his Bird. So, before the long distance relationship could happen, he ended it. He didn’t want her to have to morn him if he did die while flying this mission, so he decided to break her heart. He didn’t tell her why, she understood the risks of his job, she too was a pilot. But, after the mission was successful, he turned from his happy go lucky self the others began to love, to a gloomy, depressed state. The other aviators pressed him for weeks before he finally gave in and told them about his ‘Birdie’ and how he made a mistake. Hearing a little bit of Bob’s story, they started to do anything and everything to try and get orders for this ‘Birdie’ to San Diego. Will their meddling help mend these lovebirds?

1. If You Love Something, Set It Free

2. Before The Storm

3. Beautiful In Flight

4. Birdie’s Eye View

5. Home In The Sky (TW)

6. When You Bathe, Would You Call That A Bird Bath? (TW)

7. A Little Birdie Told Me

8. Birds Of A Feather

9. Caged Birds Don’t Sing

10. Isn’t That, Like, Cannibalism?

11. The Early Bird

12. Of Songbirds & Love

13. A Place I’ve Always Loved

14. Repeat My Song Back To Me

15. Beneath My Wings

16. Soaring Into My Open Arms

17. Landing On My Feet

18. Taking Flight

19. Two Birds, One Stone

20. Forever? Forever.

Meet Birdie:

Meet Cinco:

Meet Dragon:

Meet Lucky:

Meet Mouse:

Meet Spicy:

Meet Whiskey:

Forever 🏷️list: @switchbladedreamz @bayisdying @mrsjaderogers @dragon-kazansky @sweetlittlegingy @mtnofgrace

🏷️ list: @luckyladycreator2