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vienssunshine · 6 months

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Distracted Driving

pairing: Yuki Tsukumo x fem!reader nsfw: dom!Yuki wc: 1.9k author's note: I skimmed a motorcycle tutorial for this description: Yuki convinces you to ride her bike and rewards you for your bravery

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” Yuki says, holding out her spare helmet.

You’re floored she would even suggest the idea. “I’ve only ridden on your motorcycle, what makes you think I can drive it?”

“You’ll be a natural,” she urges, pushing the helmet into your arms, “and this is the perfect place to try it out.” She gestures to the abandoned dirt lot you’re standing in; it doesn’t have much to crash into. The only other thing out here is the road lined with glowing streetlights heading back to a city you passed around fifty miles back, a distance like that meaning an ambulance would take forever to arrive if you had an accident. You can’t even get started about wait times in emergency rooms.

“You said we were coming out here to go stargazing, not to see how fast I can kill us both by crashing your bike.”

Yuki laughs and steps closer. “It’s cute when you get all worked up over nothing.” She presses a kiss to your flushed cheek. “What if I give you a reward for your bravery?”

“It’s not bravery, it’s stupidity,” you respond. This is a bad idea, no doubt about it. You have trouble driving a car, which has four wheels, a motorcycle only has two. It’s like making the jump between rollerskating and rollerblading, but with the potential of much more severe consequences. Your eyes flick back up to Yuki—she’s dressed in her stupid, dangerous, sexy motorcycle jacket and goggles—and see her watching you with a tilted head and smirk. She’s been your girlfriend long enough to know that curiosity is tugging at you and isn’t surprised when you look away and ask, “But…what is the reward?”

Yuki turns, walking back to her propped-up bike. “Only one way to find out.”

She’s such a tease. What’s more frustrating is how it works so well on you.

You huff, strapping the helmet on. “All right.” It can’t be that bad, can it?

It is indeed bad when you’re on the thing, the angry engine rumbling beneath you and the exhaust spitting out fumes of gray smoke. The glare of the headlights just barely scares off the darkness of the night so you can see the dirt a few feet in front of you. If Yuki’s arms weren’t wrapped around your waist, you would’ve been off the motorcycle in a second.

Your fingers tighten around the handlebars. “This is a terrible idea.”

“You’re gonna do great,” Yuki purrs in your ear, sending a tingle down your spine. Or is this death machine activating your fight-or-flight response? Either way, you readjust yourself in the seat.

“Okay, whatever, how do I even do this?”

One of her arms loosens from your waist and she lays her hand on top of yours on the right handlebar. Her riding gloves leave her fingers uncovered, so you’re able to feel her skin as well as the rough leather coating her palm. “This is the throttle, and you twist it toward you to move forward.” With Yuki leaning forward to demonstrate the mechanics of the handlebars, her chest is pressed against your back. Her motorcycle jacket would muffle the sensation if it wasn’t unzipped like it is now, so you can feel the plushness of her breasts on your shoulder blades as she’s describing another lever on the bike. “…is the brake. Got it, angel?”

“Um, yeah…yeah I got it.” Doesn’t seem that hard, just a few twists and levers. Maybe it is possible you’ll survive this ordeal.

“Okay, I’ll just–” You twist the right handlebar toward you and the bike kicks up and starts rolling forward.

Yuki laughs, “Attagirl! Look at you go!”

You laugh a little too, not because you’re amused, but because you’re in disbelief that you’re moving the thing and haven’t blown up yet.

Still cautious, you turn the throttle slightly further, bringing the speed of the motorcycle up past the pace of a casual walk. And when you steer the bike into a gentle turn at the border of the dirt patch, you find it easier to control than you expected. Soon you’re successfully circling the lot while Yuki cheers you on. As impossible as it first seemed, you’re actually doing it, you’re driving her motorcycle.

“That’s my girl,” Yuki says. You want to turn and show her the smile her encouragement brings to your face, but you’re not comfortable driving without looking straight ahead yet.

“This is kinda fun,” you say, still leaving room to change your opinion in case of the terrible crash that your nerves are convinced will happen.

“You’re so good at it,” Yuki responds, giving your waist a small squeeze with her arms.

These kind of situations are why you like dating Yuki so much, she knows how to pull you out of your comfort zone, help you grow and try new things. Despite your anxiety, every experience she’s helped you through, though usually miserable whilst occurring, has been rewarding after pushing through it. It’s how you feel now, you’re proud of yourself for doing something that scared you.

You’re about to express your gratitude when her hands unclasp themselves from around your waist and travel up your torso. Your brows furrow, but you’re able to focus on the upcoming turn until her fingers splay out on your breasts, squeezing and kneading them.

You look down to the gloved hands on your chest. “Yuki, what…what are you doing?” The motorcycle lurches to the side and you snap your eyes back up to the dirt ahead of you, scrambling to re-center the bike until it steadies. The close call leaves your heart pounding and breath short, but Yuki is unaffected.

“It’s your reward, silly.” Her fingers pinch your nipple through your shirt and you gasp. “For being so brave.”

“What?” you whisper. You can’t make sense of this. Heat burns through your body and you’re not sure if it’s from her touch or your panic. This has to stop. Where did she say the brake is? You can’t remember.

“If you keep doing this”—she nuzzles her chin onto your shoulder and nibbles at your ear—“we are going to crash. This is literally distracted driving.” You steer through another turn, having a much harder time with it than your first attempt. With her touching you like this, if you make the smallest mistake, like hitting a rock or going into a turn too fast, you’ll both get sent flying.

“Don’t worry about it,” Yuki coos, “I’ll make sure nothing happens. Just enjoy the ride, m’kay?”

“This–this is crazy, you know that?” A sharp exhale leaves your lips when Yuki moves from your ear to your neck, opening her warm mouth to lick and suck on your pulse. You shift in the seat of the motorcycle, trying to keep your attention on the land ahead while Yuki’s every movement is pulling it away.

“Fuck, don’t–” Her hands are moving downward, unbuttoning your pants and traveling underneath your underwear. Surely you’ll crash if she touches you there.

“You’re doing great, angel. Just keep those pretty eyes on the road.” You whine her name and she gently sinks her teeth into your neck, her arm slinking around your waist as other her hand descends to your heat. “Thought you’d be too nervous to be this wet,” Yuki breathes against your skin, hungry. The bike wobbles.

She slides her fingers through your folds and your vision blurs, the glow of the headlights melting into the dark of the night until you blink and refocus your eyes.

“Yuki–shit–I’m–”

You’re driving. You need to tell her to stop, but you can’t get the words out, you don’t know if you want to. Even if you think this is bad, idiotic, truly a one-way ticket to the hospital, the excitement flooding your core, swirling and churning deep inside you, is impossible to reason with. Any tension or tightness in your abdomen is softened with the swipes of her elegant fingers. You’re helpless when she’s making you feel this good.

It’s hard to keep your attention on the road, but you’re still trying, so you don’t notice how your hips angle themselves forward so she’s able to start circling your clit. You also don’t notice how your tightening grip on the handlebars—your body unable to bear the pleasure spreading out within you—causes the motorcycle to pick up speed, now traveling at the pace someone could pedal a bicycle at. The wind whisks your moan away into the night and the muscle memory built in the first few minutes of riding takes over to help you steer.

“I want…more,” you say, grinding your hips against her hand.

“Gotta focus on driving, angel,” she responds.

“I–fuck–I know, it just–feels so–”

“Uh huh?” Yuki skims her teeth over the heated skin of your neck.

“It feels so…good…when you touch me,” you say, and she kisses you. You try to keep your eyes from fluttering closed as she continues to swirl her fingers around you, tending to the pressure pushing up against your insides. It’s interesting how you’re being built up to an orgasm so much faster than normal. Splitting your attention between an activity like driving while pleasure is sailing through you wipes out any of those thoughts you have that take you out of the moment—how your body looks, whether Yuki likes what you’re doing, if you’re being sexy enough. In this moment, you’re out of your head, able to feel her touch without insecurity marring the sensation. Maybe Yuki knew this would happen. She knows you well.

You moan her name, doubling over. You shoot your head back up immediately, keeping your eyes on the road even though your legs are attempting to press together, trying to shut out the pleasure overwhelming your body, though the tangled metal of Yuki’s motorcycle keeps them apart and you susceptible. The bike rocks again.

“Yuki–I can’t–I can’t take anymore,” you plead, “I can’t focus.”

“I’ve got you,” she says, her hand stroking your waist. Her skilled fingers pick up to the pace she knows you like when you’re close.

“Fuck,” you gasp.

“It’s okay,” Yuki tells you, “Just let go.”

So you do. The rope holding you together snaps as strings of pleasure whip through your poor body. Any consequences of releasing yourself, thoughts of crashing, dying, long ambulance wait, it’s all washed away; you even let go of the handlebars. The motorcycle bucks for a second, but Yuki wrangles it with her free hand, holding onto the handlebar as you cum all over the hand working at your clit.

You grab onto her forearm, clamping down on it as pleasure rolls over you, making it hard to realize how reckless letting go of the handlebars of the motorcycle you were driving is. You don’t really care though, with this feeling washing through your body, you don’t care about the bike, your stupidity, or anything that doesn’t relate to the motorcyclist behind you who’s slowing her strokes and cooing in your ear as the last muscle spasms of your orgasm calm.

Yuki takes her hand from your pants and is unfazed by the wetness coating it when she reaches it forward and to the lever sitting underneath the right handlebar. She pulls on it and the bike slows to a stop. So that’s where the brake is. The realization makes you laugh a weak, fucked-out laugh.

She kicks out the bike stand and you unfurl from your hunched form and sit back so you’re leaning against her chest.

“That was insane,” you heave out, “and stupid and dangerous, and…”

“…and?” There’s a grin in her voice.

A hazy warmth settles over you. You pull her arms into your lap, running your fingers over her gloves palms.

“Thanks, I guess,” you say.

She knows you mean more than just for the orgasm, she knows you appreciate how she pushes you from your comfort zone and helps you try new things. Even if those new things are reckless and crazy.

Yuki leans to your side and presses a kiss to your cheek. “You’re welcome.”

#yuki tsukumo smut #yuki tsukumo #tsukumo yuki #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you

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dungeonmalcontent · 5 months

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Add an extra layer to your ttrpg games. Whenever the player teleport make there be a small percent chance that they hit a teleportation throttle. Too much magical activity makes the teleport shunt them to a backstage relay room. A disembodied voice of a cosmic IT person instructs them to flip a lever to reset the teleport fusebox breaker which sends them on their way again. Let them know there's some weird and mundane cosmic powers that are really tired of making the magic and the rest of the universe work properly. Maybe segue your story to being hired by that cosmic entity department to perform a task that these 5th dimensional beings are too dimensional to do properly.

#d&d #dnd #dungeons and dragons #5e #ttrpg #fantasy #writing #silly ideas #humor #tabletop rpgs

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yourneighborhoodporg · 7 months

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The Guardian

Chapter 4: Arrival (Part 1)

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader

Warnings: mention of slavery, mention of character deaths, reference to life-threatening danger, sleep deprivation, sorrow, angst, stern Mace, fluff, banter, some reader/Anakin bonding :) and worried Obi :(

Summary: The days leading up to your arrival have been cumbersome for both you and Anakin— the two of you struggle together with these life-altering changes thrust in front of you by the Galaxy. As the group reaches Coruscant, new revelations are made that further urge Obi-Wan to meet with The Council as soon as possible: to discuss your discovery, and its consequences.

Song Inspo: Rabbit Heart (Raise it Up) — Florence + The Machine

Words: 6.1K

A/n: Ahhhh!! You all are so lovely. Hope you like this chapter. Looking forward to hearing your thoughts in the comments (and message if you'd like to be on the taglist!)

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Series Masterlist

Hibernation is a covert preparation for a more overt action — Ralph Ellison

“A war…”

Anakin’s hand loosely tilted a throttle lever to the right as the shuttle approached Coruscant only a few thousand kilometers away. Its spherical body crept into the viewport like a loth-cat poised for attack while your voice filled the cabin.

The peaceful lull of space gave the young Jedi a moment to glance back at the conversation taking place. He looked beyond Ahsoka, who was cozied up in the shuttle seat directly behind him, legs thrown over an armrest and a Datapad resting comfortably against her knees. As she typed away, you sat beside her quizzically, eyes fixed in an aimless direction with a cheek resting gently on your fingertips in thought.

You’d inquired twelve hours into the trip about galactic events that occurred during your last ten years of total isolation, and it took the remaining two days for Obi-Wan to provide you with a very abbreviated version. The wise Jedi spent much time on The Order’s growth throughout the years and various blips in the peace, like the Invasion of Naboo. Only in the last few hours did he arrive at the topic of the Separatist war. Your shock at being for so long completely unaware of the galactic battles taking place was palpable.

Anakin delved deeper into his memories of the last few days in this cramped, rickety shuttle as it traversed from the Outer Ring across the galaxy. Specifically, those late nights in which he chose to keep the ship off autopilot and fly it manually, long after Master Kenobi and Ahsoka had fallen asleep in the back.

In the dimmed lighting, his mind still rushed with questions about your discovery. He had anxiety about what your sudden appearance in his life meant, and frustrations from not being informed of your existence. So Anakin decided it would be easier to manipulate the bird’s mechanisms himself. To keep his mind from wandering too far into further misgivings.

On both such quiet evenings, he recalled your restlessness. You shuffled aimlessly in the rear cabin, from your back to your side, and after a few seconds, to your stomach with a defeated plonk. Eventually, after many noisy readjustments, he’d hear an exasperated sigh before you’d roll over and rise to your feet. He’d sense you quietly sneak up behind the co-pilot’s seat and, each night, you’d unceremoniously plop down beside him, leaning back with arms crossed and staring out the viewport as if it was just the lullaby you’d needed.

He’d peer at you, noticing your subtly sunk in eyes, before once again making the same comment.

“Can’t sleep?”

“Yeah.”

And after a few drawn-out moments filled with only the silent hum of the shuttle’s engines, he’d ask a question. Nothing grandeur or serious. Just anything to lead to a conversation. To pass the time.

“Have you ever thought about where you’d want to visit? After leaving Hoth?” He spoke lowly.

And your head cocked with an imaginative gaze stuck ahead before answering with a small smile.

“I’ve always wanted to play grav-ball, and I’ve heard Nubia has some of the best teams. So probably there.”

Anakin nodded approvingly. “Coruscant has them too.”

And your smile widened as you twisted toward him. “Really?”

Then your interest was piqued. And you’d continue the conversation or make some completely unrelated, lighthearted query. Either way, the two of you would talk for hours during those calm nights in the old, decrepit shuttle.

It was during these late-night talks, that Anakin had the chance to uncover more of who you were. He brushed away at your sentiments, uncovering your interests like hidden gems while simultaneously sharing his own. The both of you seemed to have a great deal in common.

And that helped ease his mind.

Anakin turned back to the controls to prepare the shuttle for approach as it neared the planet’s gravitational pull, shutting off the main ion drives.

“And the Jedi as Generals? Controlling an army of clones?”

He watched as you shook your head and sighed, pressing your lips together as if mourning a memory.

“I always thought The Order was built to preserve peace in the Galaxy. Qui-Gon always made that clear. The Jedi were protectors, not stokers of conflict.”

“The Jedi have always been and will prevail as keepers of the peace.” Obi-Wan clarified.

His stance held firm behind the co-pilots seats, leaning against it with arms crossed as he analyzed your reactions carefully.

“We act in this war to do just that. The cohesiveness and strength of The Republic would be destroyed if The Separatist Alliance remained. You know as well as most from your studies that an existence like The Old Republic would act as an open cut to agents of the Dark Side.”

Anakin noticed as your eyes misted over in a dazed fashion.

“Forces like Maul…” You murmured.

Exhaling soberly, Anakin digested your solemn expression. Watching your mind struggle to process this newfound mountain of information was bringing back his own troubling memories from his youth. He never was the strongest enthusiast for change, and some of the most extreme adjustments he’d made involved similar exposure to newly dire circumstances. Whether that be learning he’d be hungry for another day, or of some plan to sell him off to another slave owner like cheap merchandise.

As a boy, he found himself best distracted from these circumstances by a new tinkering project, or by those rare moments of frivolity in such tumultuous times.

Yet here he was, already focusing his mind on fiddling with the outdated shuttle in front of him as he had done for the past few days. An expression of levity seemed to be the next logical step, he thought.

“Well, remember?” He grinned at you lightheartedly. “You don’t need to worry about him anymore. Master Kenobi put him in his place.”

Anakin observed as the corner of your mouth twitched upwards, stirring his own to take a wider stance. The momentary lift in your spirits was short-lived, although, as your lost eyes lifted from the floor, disoriented by your mind.

“It’s almost poetic.” You mused, a rueful chuckle falling from your lips. “The very beings my Master protected me from destroyed him in the end.”

Anakin glanced at Obi-Wan who stroked his beard inquisitively as he mulled over your words in profound concentration. His narrowed gaze briefly met Anakin’s as if searching his irises for an answer to some distant, dubious puzzle.

The former Padawan raised a brow at his Master’s countenance, silently asking what he did to warrant such an expression. Then, Obi-Wan’s lips abruptly parted in realization as he spun back toward you. Anakin took that as his cue to refocus his energy on the rapidly approaching planet whose gravitational field pulled them forward, marking the bird at only a hundred kilometers away.

“Qui-Gon did protect you…” Obi-Wan suspired earnestly as if hearing his own words for the very first time.

He gesticulated with a hand. “His final moments, his face, is forever etched into my mind.”

Kenobi’s sentence broke off. The pensive Jedi opened and closed his mouth a few times while he formulated his thoughts, as if questioning the significance of each word.

“In the thousands of times I’ve gone over his death, I was always taken by the complete peace, the confidence, with which he entered The Force.”

He paused once more, lips tugged upward and eyes glossed in wonder.

“It was because of you.”

Anakin spun fully around, facing the two of you as Obi-Wan dotted that final claim. He noticed your head shoot up at them from its lulled position.

“What do you mean?” You inquired, your eyes adrift in a sea of perceptible perturbation.

“Yeah, what do you mean?” Anakin piped up bewildered.

He prayed to the Maker that his former Master wasn’t in any way implying that you had anything to do with his Qui-Gon’s death.

Yet Obi-Wan was undeterred by the assortment of sentiments swirling around him.

“When he first discovered that Maul was a Sith.” He began excitedly. “He must have realized the threat to you. Yes, he was protecting you from the Sith for most of your life, but The Order hadn’t encountered them for a thousand years. And yet, he appeared before Qui-Gon on Tatooine, and then…Naboo.”

Obi-Wan exhaled, letting his arms fall to each side as you leaned forward, watching him intently with hands now clasped firmly beneath your jaw.

Anakin could tell that your silver stare intimated even his former Master. He watched as the Master Negotiator not so subtly eyed the hull’s roof to escape your gaze.

“It is possible, that tracking you down was part of Maul’s mission. He may have discovered your connection to Qui-Gon.”

Kenobi sighed, stroking his chin. “Our former Master likely came to the same conclusion.”

Anakin saw as Obi-Wan’s eyes fell to connect intensely with yours, a smile lingered on the bearded Jedi’s features as his eyes creased in tranquility.

“You should find solace in the fact that you made his final moments most comforting. His death ensured that the Sith would never discover your whereabouts. I’m sure that gave him peace.”

For the first time today, Anakin registered a twinkle in your radiantly silver eyes as you silently thanked the older Jedi with a lift in your cheeks, leaning back into your seat comfortably.

The Chosen One glanced between the two of you as the gaze held. He knew Qui-Gon’s death weighed heavily on Kenobi’s soul. It strongly influenced his choices on the battlefield, and stuck to him like Chewstim during meditation sessions. Yet Anakin rarely heard Obi-Wan discuss the experience. Let alone with serenity blooming from his features like a Tarisian rose that had just escaped a long, winter hibernation.

Your mutual connection to Qui-Gon seemed to help heal these old wounds, and Anakin was grateful for that.

“Enough with the sappiness, Master,” Anakin exclaimed with a lively lilt, breaking the tension as he spun back toward the shuttle’s controls.

Obi-Wan shot Anakin an annoyed look. The teasing Jedi pushed a throttle lever down before programming the shuttle for atmospheric reentry on the left control set.

“I think Silvey would much rather take in our arrival.”

Anakin didn’t need to reach into the force to sense your amused brow’s rapid surge upwards. Obi-Wan stepped around the co-pilot’s seat, shaking his head in surrender as he settled into the chair, smoothing out his robe on either side.

“You sure know how to ruin a moment, Sky-Guy.” Ahsoka pipped up.

Her gaze remained fixed on the Datapad. Yet her comment only amplified his mischievousness.

“Silvey?” Anakin heard you question with feigned indignation as he entered the final commands into the shuttle interface, engaging the secondary thrusters.

The spirited Jedi snatched the navigational lever, pushing it down to lead the craft into Coruscant’s exosphere before glancing over his shoulder at your postured displeasure. He smirked as your eyes met, forcing a dampened smile to surface on your own countenance.

“Hey, don’t blame me! I could spot your silver eyes from a million parsecs away. It’s only fitting.” He defended.

Then, a particularly tantalizing observation entered his thoughts.

“Would you prefer Shorty?”

You chucked darkly, squinting at The Chosen One with a challenging glare as he brought the shuttle’s nose into a deeper dive.

Your lips pursed upwards. “If looks could kill, Anakin. If looks could kill…”

The pilot beamed at your playful remark. “Well, at least take a break from stabbing me with those freakishly sparkly things.” He quipped, waving you away. “You’re missing the view.”

Out of the corner of his focused stare, Anakin observed your head rise. You were immediately taken by Coruscant’s giant mass, a faded blue and gray planet with billions of lights forming golden circles that were interconnected like a geometric map. Your mouth loosened in astonishment with each glossy orb stuck to the viewport. He noticed you lean forward, as if pulled by some unknown force, resting your elbows on each knee with your chin fitted on clasped hands.

Satiated by your raised spirits, Anakin refocused on the throttle, pushing it down further to bring the shuttle into Coruscant’s baby blue troposphere. The ship began to quiver as the hull took the brunt of the friction.

For a few turbulent seconds, his vision was blocked by the vast array of rounded, white clouds. The cabin’s heat intensified as the edges of the viewport started to burn a fiery red.

But soon, the shuttle broke through the white veil’s final wisps, displaying the towering cityscape, which rolled like jagged hills and consumed the viewport. The sun was beginning its final crawl to dusk, filling the sky with a deep orange fire whose smoke billowed into dark blues and purples. The streams of light illuminated the busy skylanes, resembling the endless march of Endorian ant colonies. They brought life to Coruscant’s still landmarks.

“It’s beautiful.”

Anakin covertly peaked at you, registering the astonishment plastered on your face. He assumed for a being that’s only known endless snow banks and harsh winters all their life, that this experience would be terribly intimidating, terrifying even.

He thought back briefly to ten years prior. When he first came to Coruscant, he was petrified. Scared of this new environment. Of this added drastic change to his life.

But he was mostly afraid for his mother. For her fate back on Tatooine. Under Watto’s thumb, only to be bought by Lars, and then…

It permeated his being. Haunted him for years. Pulled at his heart with the constant mass of a planet, swinging like a pendulum with each reminder, each ache. And, still, he carries it with him today. But now, with a deeper anger. A stronger guilt.

But you seemed to take it all in with grace.

And Anakin admired that.

The Temple swiftly grew into view as the shuttle descended. The heat surrounding the hull began to recede. Anakin rolled the lever, bringing the shuttle in for a curved landing. He aligned the ship with one of the protruding hangars, the whole of which he believed resembled an upside-down lollipop. At least when he was a youngling.

After thumbing a few buttons on the control panel to release the landing gear, Anakin pressed the lever down, encouraging the craft to speed to the circular platform nose first. He turned the throttle once more to the right, slowing the ship by aligning its door with the hangar entrance, allowing for a slow, final descent.

The ship jostled slightly as it met the landing pad, signaling Anakin to begin a systems-wide power down, staring at the main control panel.

Another happy landing.

As he flicked off the last switch to power down the engines, Anakin felt an audible rumble from within, compelling him to focus on the sudden ache in his stomach.

It had been a while since he had a good meal with the back-to-back missions and low stock of ration bars. Not that he ever considered that bantha fodder food.

Usually after a long away mission, he would grab a speeder from The Temple and take a quick trip to the Senate Building. He’d roam the halls nonchalantly, chest puffed to signal an air of importance, like he had a very official reason to be there. Then, he would ‘aimlessly’ stroll to Padmé’s office.

Once he arrived with a covert knock at the door, Padmé would welcome him inside with a warmhearted smile. He would then spend some time resting on one of her guest seats meant for senatorial colleagues, attempting to entertain himself with the mechanisms of his saber’s hilt. But it wasn’t long until he began to distract Padmé from her work, eventually convincing her to call it an early night. The two of them would grab a meal in her spacious Coruscanti apartment that overlooked The Temple from a few miles away. But he was never intrigued by that view. His eyes remained fixed on her.

Yet despite all this daydreaming, Skywalker knew his wife was still on Naboo, managing the consequences of donating a vast array of medical supplies to another planet. Her responsibilities on her home world exponentially swelled in the last few months, so he wasn’t entirely sure when he’d next see her.

No one knew when they’d see each other next during wartime. Or if they would ever meet again.

If these musings indicated anything, it was that Anakin eagerly hoped to spend some downtime with the people he was closest to. No war planning. No cargo transports. No battle charges. Just a nice meal and entertaining conversation. And he knew just who he wanted to spend that time with.

Anakin stood, stretching his arms into a spin just in time to witness the very person he hoped to talk to swing her legs back over the seat they were sprawled out on before jumping up and charging for the door.

“What’s got you in such a rush?” He called after Ahsoka as she jostled the shuttle door open.

The orange light of the setting sun invaded the ship with a jolt, casting large shadows on the scattered groups of hangar workers, the closest of which approached the ship to take it off Anakin’s hands once the final three passengers exited.

She leaped out, landing delicately on the tips of her toes before turning into a backward jog.

“If I don’t finish this physics paper by midnight, Master Plo Koon is gonna kill me!” She yelled, shaking her datapad in the air. “Catch you later!”

Anakin’s gaze followed her sprinting form down the hangar’s walkway until she disappeared into the inner bay behind a small cruiser.

“Ok.” Anakin huffed before facing the two remaining Jedi with a grin. “At least the three of us can grab dinner.”

He rubbed his hands together in anticipation.

“I’m afraid the two of you will have to enjoy without me,” Obi-Wan admitted as he glanced at Anakin. “The Council likely planned an emergency meeting concerning the recall of the Jedi from the front lines. I need to check in immediately.”

Anakin’s smile faltered. He inwardly groaned at Kenobi’s resolute dedication to rules and regulations. He was sure The Council could have waited half an hour, but Anakin knew Obi-Wan’s mind was set.

Obi-Wan twisted on his heels to face you. “I will also inform them about you.”

“Shouldn’t I be there then?” You questioned.

All hope of eating with one of his traveling companions drained from Anakin’s spirit. Maybe he could meet with one of them later instead, he thought. He supposed he could put off food for a bit, perhaps continue on that pilot droid project he hadn’t had a chance to work on for a while. But then he’d probably need to take a quick trip to Level 1782. Last time Anakin checked, he was low on spare parts.

“No,” Obi-Wan claimed.

Skywalker’s ears perked at that.

“That will not be necessary. They will likely need to confer without your presence for now.”

You silently agreed as Anakin internally sighed in relief.

Obi-Wan nodded to the both of you before turning to the hangar walkway, hurriedly traipsing toward his exit.

Anakin took a more leisurely pace in the same direction as you followed behind. An uncomfortable silence took hold as he guided the both of you into the inner hangar. The bustling noise of your surroundings amplified the awkwardness as the two of you closed in on the larger groups of hangar workers, barking out loud commands and using various tools, like sonorously whirring drills, to update or fix the conglomerate of crafts that idly scattered the zone.

Anakin felt his nose begin to tickle, perhaps from distant smoke. But he was too worried that it may prolong the uncomfortably fresh turf between the two of you if he tried to scratch it.

“So…” You spoke somewhat unsure of yourself. “What is there to do that’s fun around here?”

Anakin’s whole body froze, stopping dead in his tracks from eager surprise as if he were caught in a carbon-freezing chamber. He spun toward you, immediately seizing your shoulders with a steady clasp.

“What did you say?” He asked intently, excitement radiating up his spine and diffusing to his fingertips.

He observed your figure stiffen slightly at his agile animation. You raised a questioning brow as you opened your mouth with a hesitant pause, seemingly unsure if you should ask again.

“Do Jedi raised in The Order…not do anything….leisurely?”

The confident Jedi chuckled coolly while throwing an arm around your shoulder as you both exited the hanger into The Temple, pivoting to stroll down the hall opposite from Obi-Wan’s trail.

“I think we are going to get along very well, Silvey.” He hummed self-assuredly.

You rolled your eyes. “Not if you keep calling me that.”

“I promise you, you’re not gonna mind that nickname after I show you one of the most leisurely activities on all of Coruscant.” He assured.

You glanced at Anakin with lifted features. “But I thought you were hungry.” You teased

Anakin scoffed. “Food can wait. Now, tell me, Silvey.” Anakin dreamed as he patted your shoulder. “Did Qui-Gonn ever tell you about the Wicko District?”

—

General Kenobi maintained his nimble gait down the primary walkway to the High Council Chamber. His robes billowed as he passed an abundance of lounging Jedi, some conversing to the sides or keeping a moderate pace as they made their way to an unknown destination on either side of him.

Soon into his journey, Obi-Wan crossed paths with his old mentor Master Cin Drallig, followed by a group of twelve rowdy younglings whose voices bounced off the temple walls. Maybe they were asking questions, or telling a story, but the bearded Jedi couldn’t tell. Each utterance overlapped like a cacophony of crashing speeders.

Yet almost immediately, they noticed his presence, twirling away from each other to respectfully greet one of their long-held role models.

“Hello, Master!”

“Hello, younglings.” General Kenobi smiled.

He looked back to Master Dralli, catching his tired, yet fulfilled stare. They each exchanged a dutiful, yet brisk nod before continuing on their respective paths.

Obi-Wan always felt dwarfed by the massive olive-gray pillars that buttressed The Temple’s lofty ceilings. As a youngling, the golden archways seemed to stretch out endlessly in each direction, giving the effect of an infinite mirror when he passed under them. When he aged, however, Obi-Wan learned to better understand the structure’s finite nature, yet he was still taken by its capacious essence. Each hall resembled a palace built thousands of years ago by Mandallian Giants, specifically constructed for their wide gates and broad shoulders. And it would coax his imagination into its unyielding grasp.

He remembers spending too much time simply sitting crossed in these halls during his youth. The youngling would rest his eyelids to visualize the giants’ roaring tramps shake the coral- and lilac-marble floors in succeeding thundering booms.

As Obi-Wan turned a corner, tread crossing onto the ocean blue carpet of the inner Temple, he reminisced about the time Qui-Gon caught him red-handed in the middle of one of these fantasies. It was many years before the late Jedi took him on as a Padawan.

Qui-Gon would always engage with the younglings when possible. He had a habit of outwardly encouraging all initiates in their studies, especially those who struggled with their training and emotional discipline. But he would also silently approve those rare moments in which a young Jedi took a moment to themselves. Whether that be exploring the Coruscanti entertainment district, playing Sabacc, or Obi-Wan’s respite of choice, daydreaming.

With eyes shrouded in darkness, he could almost smell the sweaty towering creature. Its footsteps sounded like cracks of lighting, and he could feel the room’s imperceptible rise in temperature from the creature’s sudden presence. If he really focused, its colossal, green-muscled foot would nearly breach the void in his sight, creeping from the corner of his left eyelid. The hair on his arms prickled at the beast’s sudden proximity.

“Meditating are you?”

The young Kenobi’s eyes sprung open, cheeks reddening as his eyes locked with the wise Jedi before him.

“Uhh, yes…Master.”

And Qui-Gon simply smiled.

Obi-Wan’s worries momentarily lifted at the memory, delight gracing his features. But that instant disappeared from his mind as quickly as it arrived. The Jedi refocused on the task ahead, passing one of the large Sage Master statues that shined like freshly polished copper to his right as The Council meeting room entered his vision.

Just outside the Chamber door stood Master Windu, leaning with his arm against the wall beside him as he continued his deep discussion with Master Yoda, who rested in his flying chair. The two of them spoke softly, and from Windu’s creased brows, General Kenobi could tell that it was serious. A few groups of Jedi Masters similarly congregated around the door, talking lowly. Kenobi could sense heightened anxiety trailing the air.

As he approached, Obi-Wan caught the corner of Mace’s eye. He turned to General Kenobi, offering a curt nod at his arrival as Yoda reoriented his seat toward the newly arrived.

“Late you are, Master Kenobi.”

“I apologize for the delay.” Obi-Wan relayed sincerely. “Our shuttle experienced some unexpected complications.”

Yoda hummed deeply at Obi-Wan’s words, indicating his acceptance of this explanation to Mace before taking his chair on a measured stroll down the walkway, back in the direction from whence Obi-Wan came. Windu and Kenobi shortly followed in step.

“The Council has already met to discuss the issue of recalling the Jedi.” Master Windu began as the trio ambled down the hallway. “We have suffered a communications incursion by the Separatists.”

Obi-Wan was astounded, brows furrowing in confusion as he absentmindedly rubbed his jaw.

“A breach in our secure transmissions…How is that possible?” He exclaimed.

“Unsure, we are,” Yoda answered. “Investigate, our specialists will.”

Mace addressed the troubled Jedi. “A number of troops stationed in obscure outer regions of multi-planetary battle sites were ambushed in the last few weeks. The only way they could have been discovered would be if their COMMs were tapped into. It is possible that the Separatists have somehow obtained some of our transmitter codes or found some other flaw in the communications system. Because we cannot use our wrist comms or holopads to send sensitive information to communicate this development, we’ve recalled the Jedi.”

“Continue the battles, the clones will. Send out Jedi temporarily with verbal directions for troops, we must.

“Until communications are secured.” Windu clarified. “The 212th and 501st have already received new instructions for a less critical mission on Aleen.”

Obi-Wan hummed in contemplation. “And how long do you believe this situation will last?”

Mace exhaled. “We won’t know until technicians look further into the issue. But it may be weeks, months.”

Obi-Wan stroked his beard as he ruminated about this concerning development. He trusted Commander Cody with his life, but still knew it would be difficult for the 212th to address more delicate missions in the near future without timely information from The Temple or even inter-troop comms.

“Concerned, we all are,” Yoda reassured, likely sensing General Kenobi’s unease.

“The Council will be informing all active Jedi in the Great Hall tomorrow morning. Make sure Anakin and his Padawan are present. And here.”

Windu reached into the right pocket of his robe, pulling out what Obi-Wan thought was a wrist comm, yet it seemed bulkier. An extra layer of wiring was hidden in an additional panel stuck underneath the control layer. Most notable was the thin, silver line of steel that encircled the device, something the General hadn’t seen on a comm before. He took it, feeling the mass in his palm. It felt cold, heavy, with a rusted button and weak indicator light.

He thought it ancient.

“It’s a comm from the old Temple emergency system. It’s completely separate from our current communications system so messages from these devices to regular comms will be secure. There are only enough for one per council member.”

Obi-Wan thanked the Master as he switched his current wrist link with the replacement, placing the former in his robe’s pocket.

“Still careful, we must be.”

Mace added. “Only use it to ask for meetings, not to share sensitive data.”

Obi-Wan nodded. “On the topic of sensitivity, I must inform you of a development.”

He breathed deeply, exhaling in a short burst as he gathered his complicated memories about you to present to The Council leaders.

“In our delay, Anakin, his Padawan, and I were on Hoth for a short time, where we met a being living alone on the planet’s surface.”

The two Jedi Masters listened intently as he continued.

“I discovered them to be a Gray Jedi, trained by Master Qui-Gonn himself. They claim to be The Guardian, a figure that is a part of The Chosen One prophecy, but was expected to be trained outside The Order. They are tasked with Anakin’s protection and guidance so that he may achieve his destiny. Their journey begins when dark forces threaten this fate.”

Mace’s eyes narrowed. “This is a bold claim, Master Kenobi. If anything, it sounds like a Separatist trick.”

Then, as soft as their nimble footfalls, Yoda uttered your name under his breath.

Obi-Wan’s head swiveled toward the Grand Master. “You know them?”

The shorter Jedi sighed, leaning back in his chair as his eyes glazed over in deep reflection.

“Gone, I thought they were, a long time ago.”

Mace’s brows raised as he turned to Yoda. “You know of this individual, Master?”

He nodded gravely, a light grunt resonated from his esophagus.

“Discovered them as an infant twenty-five years ago, I did. Kept a close eye on them, I had.” He sighed. “Killed by a dark power a year later, their parents were. Believed they died as well, I did.”

The Grand Master eyed General Kenobi carefully, as if the bearded Jedi made a mistake in his recollection.

“Interested to learn they are alive, I am.”

“A dark power…” Obi-Wan mused. “Master, do you believe a Sith may have been responsible? I have been theorizing that Maul’s presence on Tatooine could have had more than one motive.”

“Discovered their presence, you believe he did?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan confirmed. “And their connection to Qui-Gon.”

He paused, counting the years in his head.

“But Maul would have been too young when their parents passed.”

“The rule of two…” Mace hummed.

“A Master, then.” Yoda declared.

“Then The Guardian’s presence suggests that Maul may not be the last Sith,” Windu revealed. “If it’s true that their appearance suggests a new threat from the Dark Side.”

“During the Battle of Geonosis, discovered that Dooku may be a Sith, I did.” Yoga established. “Great darkness, I sensed in him.”

“Then he is the Sith Lord?” Mace speculated.

Obi-Wan agreed. “He would have been quite capable of taking their parents’ lives over two decades ago.”

“It would also explain The Guardian’s survival, if Dooku’s late Padawan discovered his plans and partially thwarted them before they were carried out,” Mace suggested.

“Informed The Council, Qui-Gon would have, if believed Dooku was a Sith, he had. Much we still do not know, there is.”

Windu exhaled, placing his middle and index finger against his right temple and thinking deeply about his next words.

“I would like to meet this Guardian myself.” He gestured to Kenobi. “Tomorrow in the Sparring Arena after the Great Hall announcement. It is important for The Council to determine whether they have the necessary physical and mental abilities, and the appropriate connection to the Force, to be a Jedi Knight. To join The Order. Otherwise, leaving them outside the purview of The Order could have dire consequences. That is if they are even prepared to fulfill such a destiny after nearly a decade of isolation.”

“Of course, Master.” Obi-Wan acknowledged. “But from what little I’ve seen, they seem quite capable of holding their own.”

Windu’s stare held firm. “Respectfully, Master Kenobi, I will be the one to determine that.”

Obi-Wan’s gaze fell. “Understood.”

He didn’t take the Master’s tone personally. Windu’s conformist nature and deep dislike for any Jedi activity conducted beyond the domain of The Council likely made his discovery of The Guardian prophecy an unwelcome one. Obi-Wan only hoped that Master Windu would still treat you as any other Jedi when testing your abilities. He remembers the wise Master’s negative reaction to Anakin’s discovery, due to his age at the time Qui-Gon requested that he be trained. You were much older than 10-year-old Ani, so he was convinced that would pose a problem for the talented swordsman.

And this was not the best time for you to be meeting resistance from The Order that you trained your whole life to serve so to continue its millennia-long mission of preserving the peace through light. The Master Negotiator didn’t need to employ his strong conversation skills to discern how the past few days’ overwhelming changes had been affecting you. That, in addition to learning of your Master’s passing, had made you restless on the journey here. It was hard to ignore, even while he settled in repose each night, your twisted form which struggled to sleep.

He empathized with you deeply.

The General was also, in some measure, apprehensive about the inevitable clash of personalities. He found you kind, considerate, but also unafraid to speak your mind, or express your inner sentiments. He admired Master Windu since he was a boy, but his no-nonsense approach? His uncompromising mental discipline and austere lessons? It would surely cause a collision of temperaments.

“A different name, they must go by,” Yoda announced.

Obi-Wan’s gaze rose curiously at this. “Master?”

“Know they are alive, Dooku cannot.”

“Nor any other actor of the Dark Side. Nor the Separatists.” Windu interjected. “Their existence could pose a significant weakness to the Republic’s image of enduring peace and light. If Separatist forces discover The Guardian’s identity and purpose from their birth name, they may believe that the destruction of a specific Jedi could leave us vulnerable.”

He paused, turning to Yoda to verify his conclusions, who languidly blinked in concurrence.

Mace’s peer twisted back toward Kenobi. “If dark forces found them once through their birth name, they can again.”

The Grand Master nodded in agreement. “Destroy The Guardian, they may otherwise try.”

Obi-Wan’s heart dropped at the notion. It was clear that your identity needed to be protected from these powerfully dark forces, lest you meet the same fate as your parents.

If your mission was to guard and guide Anakin, his former Padawan, and dear friend, then the determined Jedi believed it to be his personal assignment to aid you in that destiny. Now he knew that hiding your identity to the best of his ability would be part of that task. The side of the light needed you, and Obi-Wan’s deep connection to it and his cavernous desire to continue Qui-Gon’s decades-long efforts meant only one thing— he needed to protect you too.

“Anakin gave them a nickname.” The General recalled, head tilted and eyes scanning up an idle column as he thought back. “Silvey, if memory serves.”

Windu's brows raised, unsurprised.

“Then Silvey they’ll remain,” he concluded.

Yoda hummed, his disconcertion bubbling to the surface with lips creased in a downward turn. “Their true name, only the three of us, Anakin, and little Ahsoka will know. Kept secret, their identity must be. Inform The Council of the prophecy, we shall, once communications are refortified. But within the council, it must stay.”

Master Windu mumbled in unanimity. “We must not entertain any notion of emerging Sith. Not among the Jedi, nor publicly.”

“I understand the delicacy of the situation and will act accordingly,” Obi-Wan assured.

The bearded Jedi halted, turning to the elders before leaning into a slight obeisance. The other Masters slowed to a halt.

“If you will excuse me, Masters, I hope to find my travel companions before they divulge any information about The Guardian’s identity.”

“May the Force be with you, Master Kenobi,” Windu stated as he bowed adieu, Yoda following suit from his floating chair.

And with that, Obi-Wan turned away to begin his search for you, Anakin, and Ahsoka.

As the General quickened his stride down that long, colossally immortal walkway, he wondered where he might find the three of you. Ahsoka was probably in the Jedi Archives around the corner, assuming she was continuing her work on that paper for Master Plo Koon. So he decided to start there. He assumed you and Anakin were stationed in the refectory closest to the hangar, remembering the previously mentioned dinner plans,

Or maybe it would be better to try the refractory first, Obi-Wan thought. If experience served true, Anakin would not stay silent about your discovery for long. He hastened his pace while mumbling these plans under his breath.

“Yes, the refractory first.”

Taglist

@js-favnanadoongi

@panandinpain0

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miscfandomwrites · 5 months

Text

Riding Lessons

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Student! Reader

Location: Marvel > Natasha Romanoff > Oneshots

Warnings: None?

Words: 600ish

Tagging: @tyler-t0t

“Natasha!” I yelled into the garage over the dull roar of the motorcycle engine. I was in the middle of a study session (which for once I was actually studying) when she decided to start tinkering in the garage.

The engine cut, and the red head popped up from behind the bike.

“Hey, милая. Did I bother you?” She asked, wiping her forehead with a rag, smudging grease on it in the process.

I huffed a laugh at her and headed over and took the rag from her, wiping her forehead.

“I was studying.” I said as I tossed the rag to the side, grabbing her outstretched hand and helping her stand.

She winced. “Sorry, I didn’t know.” The look on her face was apologetic, and she grabbed my hand and kissed the back of it.

“I can be quieter”

“It’s fine, I was barely into it anyway. It’s the fourth time today I’ve tried to get into the headspace and I think I’m done for now.”

“Are you sure? We can go to the library or maybe a coffee shop and work-'' She started as she went over and started picking up

“No, seriously Nat, it’s okay!” I chucked as she was already starting to close up the garage. She slowed her actions but didn’t stop them.

I sighed and went over to her bike, picking up the rag and finding a clean one to wipe the bike down. Looks like she was finally changing the tires.

“Hey Nat,” I started, still wiping the bike down.

“Yes, милая?” She replied, still sorting and putting tools into the large tool box.

“Can you teach me how to ride?”

She paused, and turned to look towards me, her face lit up with a grin.

“You’re sure?” She questioned, gesturing to the bike.

“Yeah, I want to learn.”

“Okay, give me fifteen minutes to finish this and then I’ll show you.”

Dressed in a pair of jeans, my battered converse, and one of Nat’s hoodies, I padded back into the garage where Nat was finishing wiping down the bike.

“Hey, princess. Are you ready to learn?” She asked me as I headed towards her.

I nodded and she motioned towards the bike. “Since we don’t get much traffic, I’m actually going to have you ride a bit down the road.” she told me as I swung my leg over the bike and straddled it. Usually I was the one behind Natasha, but this time it was switched, with her behind me.

“Okay, we’re gonna take this slow, okay princess?” she murmured from behind me, wrapping her arms around my wait and setting her head on my shoulder.

“It’s a bit like a bike, those two front levers are the brakes, and that is the throttle, or the gas. And by your feet are the breaks. Now, I want you to slowly let off the brakes and turn the throttle. Slowly..” She told me as I followed her instructions.

The bike slowly started to move, and soon enough we rolled out onto the driveway.

“Good! You’re doing really good, babe. Now squeeze the throttle and give her a little more gas.”

I did that, and the bike moved faster until we were out onto the street. Turns out it almost exactly like riding a bike, but that still didn’t stop me from being a nervous wreck.

We spent about fifteen minutes just riding around the block slowly, before I pulled back into the driveway and turned the bike off, exhausted.

Natasha huffed a laugh. “Bit harder than you thought, princess?”

I nodded and slid off the bike, stretching. “It’s pretty nice though, I’ll give you that.”

“Good, because I’m getting you one.”

“You’re WHAT?”

And with that Natasha booked in into the house, laughing like a maniac as I chased after her demanding answers.

#miscfandomwrites #avengers x reader #marvel #marvel x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader

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sw5w · 6 months

Text

Terrified Tyerell

STAR WARS EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace 01:01:42

#Star Wars #Episode I #The Phantom Menace #Tatooine #Boonta Eve Classic #podrace #Laguna Caves #Ratts Tyerell #Ratts Tyerell's podracer #Scatalpen #headrest #throttle lever #windshield

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f1a1w1n · 1 year

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No, you don't

Part two of No, you don't

Summary: This fic is sort of a time skip to when we land on the rebel base, cause I didn't want to recite the whole movie. Basically in this fic, you meet Poe for the first time and are shocked at how annoying and handsome he is. It's a slowburn, enemies to friends to lovers fic. Reader has the force.

Word count: 1.25k

Warnings: Not really anything, mentions of blood.

I’m picking the thread from my skirt when Rey comes bursting in.

“He won’t stop following me!” she walks back and forth to demonstrate. “Go away” She points her finger at him, and then at the door. I laugh.

Rey argues with the orange droid as it beeps angrily… or as angrily beeps can go.

“You can understand it?” I swivel around to face her.

Rey pushes the droid away with her foot. “Yes, unfortunately,”

I smile. “What’s he saying?”

“Something about a pilot… and a stormtrooper” the droid frantically pushes her foot “I found him in some scavengers net”

“Hey come here,” I put my hands out and the droid rolls over cautiously. I spin the droid around and look for the serial number. “Hmm… he’s a republic droid”

“Like the rebels?” Rey asks. She puts out her hand and squeezes her eyes shut “like Luke Skywalker?”

When she says that the droid goes crazy, rolling back and forth beeping rapidly.

I smile. “Yes… exactly like that, thats exactly how the force works”

Rey grins. “Come on let’s go to the town,”

We walk out to the speeders as Rey chats with the droid. Rey scoffs as as the droid tells her he’s the most important droid in the galaxy.

While I'm haggling with Plutt about how good this scavenge was. Rey chats with her new friend.

Plutt raises his hand to quiet me. “The scavenge is weak... I have many other scavengers that get me better quality stuff than this" He gestures to the pile of scraps, then he looks behind me "...but- I'll take that...how much for the droid?”

“It isn’t for sale” Rey answers for me.

Plutt reaches behind him and dumps a truckload of portions on the counter. “Sixty portions.”

I turn to Rey and shoot her a look saying. Is it really not for sale?!

She gives me a look that says. Yes! Now drop it!

Suddenly the droid beeps franticly and rolls full speed for a man drinking water from an animal trough. Ew. I think. How can you be that desperate?

Rey runs after the droid and I pile the portions into my bag. Subtly sweeping a extra one. He wouldn’t notice.. right?

The man sees Rey sprinting full speed at him and runs the other way. Honestly, I couldn’t blame him. Rey chases him around the market, weaving in between stalls. Suddenly I popped out between two stalls and tripped him over.

“Hey!”

"BB-8?" The man sounds shocked.

All of a sudden TIE fighters began to shoot at the market blowing everything in their path to smithereens. “Run!” I heard someone yell.

The man dragged Rey by her wrist out of the market, in turn Rey gripped on to my arm. We fumbled around trying to escape the TIE fighters blasts.

“Over there!” Rey pointed to a ship as it blew to bits. We ran the other way. “Nevermind!”

The man leads us to a dirty-looking ship. We jumped on as the droid rolled in after us. Rey and I hopped into the cockpit and we began furiously flipping switches and pulling levers.

“Shields aren't working!”

“What should I do?” the man said, his brow furiously sweating.

“Go down there!” I messily pointed behind me. “Fire back at them!”

The man ran off. Rey pulled back on the throttle and we took off shooting into the desert, spinning and flipping the ship, trying to avoid the TIE fighters. I took a panel of of the cockpit and fiddled with wires and switches to try and get the shields on.

“Why aren't there any shields?!” I heard the mans voice over the intercom.

“I’m working on it,” I shout back. I unbuckle my seatbelt and stumble out of the cockpit, putting my arms out for balance as the ship lurches from side to side.

“Where are you going?” Rey yells as I rip another panel of of the ship.

I don’t respond.

Finally we shoot of into hyper space. I heave out a sigh.

Rey runs out of the cockpit and tackles me with a hug. We squeal and jump around.

The man walks out, shock painted over his face. His shocked expression turners into a wide grin.

I grab his arm and shake it while laughing with Rey.

Rey sticks out her hand. “Rey,” she’s grinning.

He thinks for a moment. “I’m Finn,”

They shake hands and then Finn offers his hand to me and I introduce myself.

Time skip~

Han Solo finds his ship and takes us to Maz. After Rey speaks with her she seems shaken. After the fight on Takodono, we realise that Rey was taken. Later we finally reach the rebel base.

(also I'm sorry for the time skip, but we want to get to the juicy parts right?)

I feel the ship gently touch the ground, lurching me from my thoughts. I’m pressing a rag to my side from where a stormtrooper shot me. The rag is almost soaked with blood at this point.

Where are you, Rey? I think. Why are you making me do this?

I do something that I haven’t done in years. I close my eyes and try to reach out to her with the force. I feel the energy around me buzzing. I try to reach out beyond that, I let myself go back to Takondo, the last place I saw her. I know the force is strong with her, but I’ve never said anything. I didn’t want her to be burdened with it like I am.

I reach my mind out further. I feel something… it's dark.

Han Solo walks over, jerking me from the force. “Listen, kid… we’ll get her bac-” he’s going to say something but I can see him rethink his words. “Don’t get on their bad side,” he jerks his head towards the rebel base. "more so, don't get on the generals' bad side, she's a real pain in the-" He walks off muttering about the general.

“...okay,” I slowly stand up, clutching my side. I look over to Finn. He’s sitting with his elbows on his thighs and his head in his hands.

I put my hand on his shoulder. “We’ll get her back,”

I turn around and follow Han and Chewie out. I see rebel soldiers run over to us. Someone sees the blood from my side and yells “Medic!”

I guess it's worse than I thought.

I feel Han put his hand on the upper part of my back, steadying me. I realise I'm swaying.

I hear Finn’s voice, “God! Where are the medics?”

“Kid?” I hear Han say.

“Hm?”

"Nothing you're just really pale, kid"

He turns the the rebel solider running towards to us. He’s in a fluro-orange flight suit, and he swipes his brown curly hair out of his face as he approaches us.

“Finn?!” he says, running to give Finn a bear hug, he punches his shoulder. “I thought you were dead.”

“I thought you were dead!” Finn says, the grin on his face widening, his smile drops when he remembers I’m bleeding out.

“We need a medic,”

“Agreed.” Finn’s friend turns around and yells for a medic, people quickly scramble to get one. I see his eyes on me, they look me up and down. My cheeks don't flush because I'm losing so much blood-

Suddenly the droid pops out of the Falcon, zooming at the man in the flight suit.

“BB-8!” He exclaims. “I missed you!”

How can you miss a droid? I thought. I roll my eyes. I look back to the man in the flight suit, he’s looking at me. God, I hope he didn’t see that.

Of the bat I cant help but notice how handsome he is. His dark curly hair lays on his forehead, lightly swaying in the breeze. And his eyes, god they are so dark. There dark and warm, like a cup of deep hot cocoa. When he talks his jawline could cut glass.

I feel myself buckle in the knees, not because of his ‘rugged’ looks. I feel faint. Finn rushes to my side. “You okay?”

"What d'you think?" I say through gritted teeth.

Finn turns to the man in the flight suit. “Where are those medics, Poe?”

“I don’t know,” Poe takes a step toward me, holding out his arms slightly as if I were about to collapse.

I let out a pained laugh that really sounded more like a yelp of pain. I fall to the floor. My vision goes dark at the edges. I hear voices muffled my a high pitched ringing. The last thing I see is Poe above me yelling my name.

Masterlist

Thank you for reading!!! I hope your day goes well <3

Taglist:

@kingtwhiddleston

If you want to be tagged, comment or you can fill this out.

#poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron #oscar isaac characters #star wars #rey skywalker

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carters-things · 2 years

Text

No Promises

Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x GN!Reader

Summary: After a close call in the air, Maverick could tell something was wrong before you even touched down on the runway, after getting to you just in time he doesn't leave your side.

Warnings: some angsty undertones, mentions of concussion/descriptors of concussion symptoms (no mentions of blood though), hospital room/equipment insinuations but no real descriptors of a hospital room

Masterlist

“You need to get control! We’re going down!” Your RIO yelled frantically into the radio. Your plane was spiraling, an engine almost blown, and beginning to lose altitude. Your grip desperately tightens on the flight stick, trying everything in your power to level the wings and keep from burning in. as the plane jolts into another spiral, your body is slammed into the side of the cockpit, your helmet hitting against the side of the canopy. Your ears ring after the impact but you have no time to focus on the pain instantly throbbing in your head.

“You need to punch out! Eject! You have to eject!” Mavericks voice rang through the coms, breaking through the pain and fear coursing within you.

“No! I’ve got this!” You continued to steady the joystick, flipping breaks, and calling out instructions to your RIO. “Restarting engines!” You called before flipping the switches and adjusting the throttle. The jet steadied at its altitude, both motors regaining function. The wings level out, and the warning alerts silence themselves. You let out a sigh as if you hadn’t breathed in minutes. Your back seater letting out a nervous chuckle of relief as well. You tried your best to maintain focus and fight through the growing fogginess of your vision. Maverick’s voice on the radio beginning to sound further and further away.

You manage to get out a few half tangible sentences, instructing your backseater to tell the boat you were preparing to land. The jet teeters a bit as it descends, fighting your hardest to concentrate and keep it as steady as you can through the waves of pain and nausea washing over you. At this point you can’t make out what he is saying, but Maverick is continuously talking, but who it is directed at is none of your concern at the moment. Your tail hook clips the cable, the wheels colliding with the taxiway in the least graceful manner. You and your RIO getting tossed around inside as the jet finally comes to a halt.

“Damn!” He says as his body clunks back into the seat. “What a way to make an entrance.” He jokes as he pulls the lever and raises the canopy.

Maverick landed just minutes before you, anxiously waiting for you to follow. His worrying is growing deeper, but he continues to keep a straight face and not draw attention to the situation until he knows what’s going on. Maverick hopes the change in your demeanor and declining coherency is due to adrenaline and anxiety from the crisis. The crowd rushes to the side of your jet, your backseater wasting no time in hopping into the midst of the high fives and hugs. Mavericks attention captivated by your inability to undo your mask from your helmet.

The cheering is deafening to your senses, your hands trembling as you finally unlatch the last buckle, the mask falling to the floor of the jet. Your legs wobble as you steady yourself to climb out of the aircraft. Maverick’s composed facade is thrown out the window when he sees how all the color has drained from your facial features. He practically has to pull the crowd of men by their shirt collars to get them out of his way, desperately trying to get to you.

You take your wobbly last step off the ladder onto the tarmac, spots clouding your vision, the light radiating off the open ocean blinding you. You can vaguely hear Maverick calling your name, but you can’t make out where it’s coming from. It’s the familiar feeling of his embrace catching you as your body finally goes limp, that lets you know he has found you. The sounds of the crowd and Maverick fading down a tunnel.

The beeping of monitors is the first thing you hear as you begin to regain consciousness, your head throbbing along with the rhythm. The lights burn when you try to open your eyes. You let a small groan out to which you feel a shift in the weight at the side of your bed. You don’t have to open your eyes to know it’s Maverick beside you, he was always there when you needed him. “Lights…” you croak out, adjusting yourself to sit up a bit more. The lights dim down, allowing you to open your eyes and adjust to your surroundings. Maverick retakes his stance beside your bed, one of his hands holding yours, the other brushing along your forehead into your hair.

“Hey Sweetheart…” He leans down and places a gentle kiss to your head, his lips lingering on your skin. Your eyes flutter closed relishing in his touch, the tension still pent up in your bones from the event melting away. The slightest bit of disappointment shows on your face as he pulls away, sitting back down in the chair that has already been pulled up beside you.

“How long was I out?” Your fingers interlock with his, Mav placing his other free hand on top.

“Just an hour or two. Nothing is broken, and no bleeding, just a severe concussion. No flying for you for a while.” He says more relieved than he means to let on. You let out a small hum as your look around the room, your helmet on the table in the corner catching your eye. A large split in the hardshell runs from the ear to the crown of the helmet.

“Huh. Now I see why we wear those…” you try and joke to drown out the silence that has washed over the room. Maverick just snorts in response, his fingers tracing over your knuckles.

“Mav…” You say softly, trying to get him to break his focus and fidgeting, but it doesn’t work. “Maverick.”

His hands halt their tracing pattern and a small tear falls from his cheek onto the bed beside you. Maverick hoping it went unnoticed by you, but when have you ever not been able to read him like a book. You didn’t need the tear to tell you he was terrified that he’d lost you.

“Look at me. Please.” Maverick lifts his head to face you, worry written all over him. “Oh honey…” You say removing your hand from his and placing it on his cheek. He leans into your touch, taking in every second of the reassurance that you are on the ground and in front of him right now.

“I thought… I thought I was going to lose you today. I watch you lose control, spiraling, and I couldn’t do anything about it. I was helpless up there. Then you landed and…” His voice hitches in his throat again, your hand still pressed to his cheek as your thumb runs along his cheek bone, allowing him to take his time and open up as he is ready too. “You landed and I watched you slip away from me all over again…” He straightens up in his seat, clearing his throat and sniffing away the last of the tears. “Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

You chuckle softly at his new tough guy tone. “No promises…” You smirk, Maverick laughing a nervous chuckle in response. He stands over you, taking your face in his hands. He leans down and kisses your lips gently. You take in the taste of him, the softness of his lips mixed with the callus of his hands on your skin. Wanting to stay connected with him like this forever.

He breaks away from you, again to your disappointment, leaning his forehead on yours. The both of you smiling at each other, relieved that everyone is alive at the end of the day. He gives your hand a small squeeze, and whispers “ I love you sweetheart.”

“I love you too Mav.” Your hand comes up to his face once more, giving his cheek a small gentle tap. “Now, help me get out of here, I need to debrief my pilots.”

Flight crew!

@someplace-darker

@nelleicrain

@murrdxcks

@sobachka-korol

#pete maverick mitchell #maverick x reader #maverick x gn!reader #pete mitchell x reader #pete mitchell x gn!reader #maverick x you #pete mitchell x you #maverick mitchell x reader #maverick mitchell x you #top gun maverick #bounty mitchell #maverick fluff #maverick fanfic #maverick fanfiction #maverick imagine #pete mitchell #top gun fanfiction

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seat-safety-switch · 1 year

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Once again, I am tested by my circumstances. The local animal shelter was looking for someone to drive some dogs to their various appointments. That responsibility fell to me, a drivers-license-having individual with a community service requirement with an “exponent” symbol in it in Microsoft Excel, to truck them there. Nobody else wanted to do it, possibly because some of the dogs have what medical experts are calling “the terror shits.”

Naturally, I couldn’t do this in my own car. Not only is the Volare incapable of holding any passengers due to the structural rust issues, but I like to keep the car clean. That’s why there’s the big holes in the floor: any dropped candy wrappers, stray strands of hair, or spilled coffees will just run out when I lift the floor mat on the expressway. No: the animal shelter was very insistent that what I would receive is a 2005 Chevy Express van, white-on-white.

This van was, well, a van. For some reason, everyone I met was apologizing to me about “how old” it was, and how they had “no money” in the budget with which to upgrade it. I didn’t have the heart to tell them that it was several decades newer than anything I’d ever operated, and I was a little bit intimidated by driving something that could go forward and backward, without having to turn the engine off and push it a little bit first.

Still, after a few minutes on the road, I immediately saw what they meant. It didn’t have any soul, this new automobile, being enormously competent at virtually every task. It didn’t shake violently on the highway, all the doors stayed closed, and it could go around corners without the windshield falling out. Soon, I was going an integer multiple of the posted speed limit, still feeling it was too slow because the sensation of danger was no longer prickling its way up my spine. I was practically falling asleep, and when I arrived at the vet’s office an hour away nearly 45 minutes ahead of schedule, I decided something had to be done for the safety of my canine charges.

While the dogs were in the shop, getting their tires rotated, I decided to do a little bit of work on my own. I had been stuck behind a slow-moving BMW SUV on the off-ramp. It was now parked outside a realtor’s office, taunting me with its copious reserve of compressed air and torque. I decided that if they weren’t gonna use their turbocharger, then I should rightfully be entitled to it. After all, it’s for the public good: who would deny these dogs an efficient, comfortable ride? Using the BMW’s toolkit and a piece of parking lot rebar as a lever, I soon had the turbocharger worked off of the engine, dropped out the bottom, and swaged into the van’s induction system. To test it out, I jumped in and pinned the throttle a few times, hearing the delightful whoosh of at least a hundred more horsepower. Yeah. This would do nicely.

All I’m legally allowed to tell you about what happened next is two things. One, the van really was less boring after all this work. The little V8 sang with the joys of forced induction, and the tires smoked well through however many gears this magic future transmission had in it. Two, it was a good thing I was going to the dog groomer’s next, because none of these animals were in a presentable shape. It turns out dogs afflicted with the terror-shits don’t like to pull a deep thirteen-second quarter mile, which is definitely something they should have told me before they gave me the keys.

Not every day of volunteering is going to be perfect. Next time I go back, I think I’ll cut a hole in the floor instead. At least that will make the cleanup easier.

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angel-0f-verdun · 3 months

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7 Missile Lock

Authors Note:

Everyone, I appreciate your continued support, I am so sorry it took so long to get this going again. I have moved and life is a bit messy at the moment but I wanted to get this out. For those waiting for Desert Umbra I am working on it, I promise. Right now my heart is set on Top Gun, but I will be putting out another chapter for Desert as soon as I can. I appreciate you all.

AngeDeVerdun

Previous chapter

I started my walk around the plane, making sure to check every inch of my metal beast. Everything seemed to be in order on the outside, I jumped inside and checked all my switches, ensuring they were in the right positions. I turned on the master switch and waited for a second as the indicators started working, plugging the connections of my helmet into the plane. Then turned on my avionics switch, and listened to the fans kick on. When I knew they were in working order I moved on. I proceeded to input the Automatic Terminal Information Service (ATIS) frequency and turned up the volume so I could hear it without putting on my helmet. I adjusted the other volume knob for Doe, using my muscle memory to determine what she liked. I input the sea level pressure into the altimeter and wrote down the letter that this hour’s weather corresponded to and any airport notes I may need. I also input the numbers for the fuel I had until bingo. I didn’t worry about my weapons counters as this was a simulation/training flight, nothing was going to be active. I looked at the switch for my hook bypass and switched it to field instead of carrier. Then turned on all my lights, I first looked around myself at the wings and tail to see if I could see all my lights. I could see a majority of them but decided I needed to get out of the plane and make sure they were all indeed working. I wouldn’t want our team to be patronized because I didn’t check the lights.

As I made my way down the ladder, I could feel the skin on my hand ripping more with the movements I had been putting it through. I sucked in a sharp breath through my teeth as I moved it more to loosen it up before the flight started. I watched the bright lights through my peripheral vision so as not to hurt my eyes when I finished I climbed back inside the cockpit, moved my helmet aside, and set it on my lap. The last thing to do was to flip the lever on the hydraulic transfer pump to shut it off. I tuned into the ground frequency.

“Miramar ground, Reaper, would you connect our ground electric power?” I asked them. I then hooked up my mask to the oxygen tube. I covered my face with my mask and flipped the switch and inhaled, feeling the air hit my lungs. I watched the instruments come to life, closing my eyes and listening to the hum, uncaging my standby instruments. I reached up with my left hand and closed the canopy, I watched Doe give me a thumbs up in the mirror above me as she covered her mouth and nose with her mask.

“Comm check, Doe, can you hear me?” I asked her.

“Loud and clear Reaper” She replied as she continued her own checks, including arming the ejection seats. I cranked my left engine and powered it up watching my RPMs, then let it go to idle and tested the other one.

“Copy,” I told her as I continued my flow checking our lights inside the cockpit, and the fire detection system, which ignited the sounds and warning lights.

“Miramar ground, this is Reaper you can disconnect us.” I told them.

“Disconnecting, you are good to go.” I watched the ground personnel clear out of the way as I bumped our throttles a little and held the brakes.

“Miramar ground this is Reaper with November, at hanger 3 requesting a northwest departure for a training exercise, run up is complete.” I told them.

“Reaper continue to runway two four right via golf and papa, then hold short of runway two four.”

“Taxi to runway two four right via golf and papa and hold short.” I abbreviated their language happily as I revved the engines and taxied to where we needed to go.

“You ready Reaper?” I heard Doe ask me as I made the first left turn. I smiled looking at my surroundings, glancing back in the mirror at her.

“Yeah, I think so. We’ll see how we do and how we compare to the rest of the group. Don’t be nervous, it’s the first flight, they can’t be too tough on us.” I told her, my eyes locked on a plane coming in hot and low to the right near the tower as I turned onto taxiway papa.

“Is that?” I heard Doe ask briefly. I knew exactly who that was, Maverick and Goose. I held short of the runway tuning into the tower's frequency. I rolled my eyes, Maverick was not going to make it easy for me to get out if he did what I thought he was doing, buzzing the tower.

“Yes, our two idiots. They always have to make a scene.” I breathed out annoyed with the showmanship of Maverick.

“I guess this means they did well.” Doe sighed out. I was starting to get annoyed with her lack of confidence, I brushed off the comment and waited til Maverick and Goose had blown my ears out with their inopportune flyby.

“Miramar tower, this is Reaper holding short of runway two four right. Think we can get a departure in before Maverick lands?” I asked them.

“What’s wrong Reaper? Jealous?” I heard Maverick’s voice come through the frequency, I rolled my eyes I would tear him apart the next time I saw him.

“Reaper, no delay, fly straight out runway two four right cleared for take off.” Tower cleared us to go as they also ignored Maverick and his bullshit.

“No delay, fly straight out runway two four cleared for takeoff,” I confirmed, as I taxied out to the runway and gradually put in full power. The plane lurched beneath me, the power throwing me back into the seat. I maintained the center line with my rudder and waited for my speed to climb to what I needed for us to get off the ground. When I reached take-off speed, I pulled up slowly taking us into a climb at a few knots faster and lesser angle of attack. I put my gear up happily getting rid of the drag that accumulated over the wheels. Immediately I felt the plane pull us forward.

“Maverick do a right 360 and set yourself up for a downwind entry landing,” Tower advised him as I tried to tune him out.

“Copy that, right 360 for a downwind entry to land.” He repeated the instructions to the tower.

“Reaper, you’re cleared to turn right to heading three one zero, frequency change approved, tune into practice area frequency 125.3. See you later, and good luck.”

“Cleared to three one zero, changing frequency 125.3, thank you, see you soon,” I told them, lifting my finger from the push-to-talk button. As I dialed in the frequency I heard Doe exhale. When we were in these kinds of training exercises she had a stressful aura about her. It put me on edge but I tried to ignore the tense air between us. I suppressed the urge to start a conversation and instead busied myself with getting to our altitude of 13,000ft. I knew we were far enough from the airspace of Miramar to get up to altitude as soon as possible.

“Ladies, this is your first hop, the gen 2 you are flying against are smaller, faster, and more maneuverable just like the enemy MiGs. The clock is ticking and as of now we are keeping score.” I heard Jester say to us.

“Left and low, they’re coming up fast, get ready,” Doe replied reading me the closing altitude between us. I forced our throttles forward immediately feeling the plane react to the movements almost instantaneously as I pulled us into a straight climb, looping around so that Jester would be in our forefront, however, my efforts were in vain as the plane had already disappeared by the time I was in position.

“Where’d he go Doe?” I asked her as she was frantically looking around, no doubt.

“I– I don’t see him, he must be to our left and just out of my sight.” I nodded taking her note into account, I banked hard right weaving us around and putting us into a slight dive so Doe could have better visibility.

“I see him. Off our right, still low and behind.” She advised me.

“So even though he’s faster he’s lagging behind us on purpose.” I thought out loud so Doe would know my process. Even though she was my RIO, we worked together as a team through situations such as these. It’s what I would want my pilot to do if I were a RIO.

“Doe, I’m gonna hit the brakes, he’ll fly right by, hopefully we can get a missile lock on him,” I told her.

“Let’s do it Reaper.” She confirmed my plans. I set my plan into action turning off the burners and lessening the throttles I pitched down to gain a little speed and have Jester fly by us. He did, I put the power back in and cruised behind him chasing him for once. I got him in my sights attempting to lock on him with my targeting system. However, the little bugger moved too quickly for my reflexes, my hand was pulsing in pain at this point with how much I pushed the threshold.

“Fuck. I can’t get him.” I said to Doe, upset that I wasn’t performing my best. He curved around behind us and I put the burners back on attempting to get away, but that lack of acceleration for a split second caused him to get a missile lock on us. The alarm blared in my ears and immediately my perspective changed.

I was flying in the mountains in Bosnia. The views were to die for, flying in this place was like a whole other world, I had never experienced this before. It was calming and beautiful with the pine trees, mountains, and crisp winter air. The snow that covered the area was pure and untouched. Why we were in the area was unimportant to me, all I knew was that we were here for reconnaissance, nothing more. My RIO and I had decided to divert from our original plan and take a detour against our better judgment. I was more like Maverick back then, uncalculated in my decisions and rash. The world was against Jax Taylor and I at this very moment. I felt the cold metal of my ring against my finger smiling as I looked down at the scenery. A happy memory was born, my fiancé and I were flying together with little to management’s knowledge.

“Where are we?” I asked him.

“301506.5 1150 confirmed, sectors have been confirmed.” He told me the numbers, but it didn’t make any sense.

“Are you sure, Casanova?” I asked, confirming what he was saying on my map and looking out the window.

“I’m reading it right here Dice.” He said to me annoyance slipping into his voice. I sighed knowing that this was not where we were.

“Well, we’re flying over a lake,” I said to him.

“Goddamnit, well one thank you goes out to the U.S. intelligence community.” He said saluting in the mirror looking at me.

“Yet another useless mission for the American taxpayer.” I quipped.

“Wait, hold on I’m getting something in sector 4.” He told me.

“That doesn’t make any sense, that’s a demilitarized zone over there. We’re not supposed to go there either.” I told him as I started mindlessly turning the aircraft about 10 degrees and back, my eyes focused on the area he was talking about. The area was shielded by trees, but you could see there was a bit of deforestation taking place just north of the tree line.

“When has that ever stopped you before? But my scope doesn’t lie, Dice, there’s something there.” He told me, adamant to get over to that sector. He never really understood my struggles as a female fighter pilot and I was already on thin ice with the brass. It was only one mission where we would deviate.

“Hey, we’re on recon, let’s recon something.” He argued with my judgment.

“See with that logic I can’t possibly argue with you, plus we have a shiny new camera to test out.” I easily agreed, not even thinking about the consequences of doing so.

“There you go. ECM is cleared, GPS is synced, putting in the coordinates, steady up zero three four, and fly the director.” He replied as I banked to the left to get us over the area he had pointed out.

“Standby for roll… Now.” I told him as I got closer, turning on the burners in case we needed to get out of there fast.

“Rolling digital.” He confirmed the camera's action. I maneuvered us to get out of the area, straight ahead back into a safe zone, also known as the lines we were supposed to be flying. Little alarms distracted me as I asked Casanova what was happening.

“What’s going on??” I asked him as I knew his eyes were on the radar more than mine were at the moment.

“Holy shit, we’re being painted!!” Casanova yelled at me, and my mindset quickly changed from complacent to tactical.

“What?!” I asked him out of pure shock from a simple flyby.

“Shit they fired, scoop it now,” he instructed. I did as he asked, quickly throwing the plane into a straight climb feeling the G-forces hit me.

“Okay, I don’t see it, call my turn. Where is it?” I asked him frantically trying to figure out which direction to go.

“Hard right. We’ll try to break the lock.” I immediately threw us into a right turn, not daring to dive below our current altitude fearing the missile would hit us. “Golden Eagle Arc Angel, we have been engaged!” I heard Casanova on the radio immediately trying to alert command.

“Put out the decoy flares” He instructed, I flipped the lever to deploy the flares. After that, I dove a little while looping us around our previous circle. “Got it… No joy.” He informed me as I continued flying in another direction not caring about how erratic the flight had gotten, I circled us around a mountain pass, trying to let Casanova get eyes on the missile.

“Where is it? Where is he?!” I yelled at him, trying to get him to talk to me, we needed to communicate better in this aspect especially when we were being targeted.

“Casanova, I have a second missile in the air, 3 miles, and closing,” I informed him as I knew he was now watching outside trying to spot the flying fireballs.

“Pull up!” He yelled again. I did as he requested and threw the plane into a straight climb.

“We need a bigger heat decoy.” He said, my pass around the mountain peak hadn’t worked. There was a leveled-off area near the top of the mountain. I watched my altitude as I got lower for a pass near the trees, the snow toppling off the branches as we passed.

“Where do you suppose I go for that? We’re in the middle of fucking winter!!” I yelled at him.

“Drop the fuel tank and pull up!” He yelled as I came to a slope. I released the tanks, listening for the boom as they hit the ground, immediately pulling up after I had dropped them.

“That’s it one down one to go! Where’s the second?” I asked him as I heard the crash from the missile hit.

“No joy, I don’t have it in sight!!” He said as I tried to get us out of the smoke banking hard right.

“He’s back on us, push over, hard left!” Casanova replied as we finally hit clear air. I watched where I was in comparison to the mountains, then made the turn flipping us around as I did so.

“I’m going for a head-on pass,” I told him as I barrelled toward the incoming missile, attempting to move my wings to the right so it wouldn’t clip us, but it was too late.

“He clipped us. He’s coming back. Turn left!” Casanova yelled.

“Fuck.” I released a breath and listened to the airplane, we had multiple caution lights on and master alarms, I would have attempted to do an emergency landing but there was no telling what would be waiting for us on the ground. We needed to get out of here.

“I’ve got no turn left Jax! The flight controls are shot.” I told him as the realization of the damage finally hit my brain.

“Then break right!” I had already started that turn but it was too late, the missile hit us dead center. I could feel the metal of the plane ripping apart before I saw Jax out the window. He went with the back of the plane floating for a second then diving down, my half took a nose dive starting to spin uncontrollably now.

“EJECT, EJECT, EJECT!” I yelled at him, pulling the two ropes above my head as I braced for the cool air against my skin. I heard the rivets on the canopy pop and the glass remove as I sailed through the air at the highest speed I’ve ever been outside of an aircraft. The chair was proving to be a problem and I needed to get out of it as soon as possible. Right as I had that thought Jax and I collided in midair, bouncing off each other effectively giving me a headache.

When the chute finally pulled I released my seat by pulling the lever on the side towards the sky. It dropped near a broken angel statue. I curiously watched it for a minute. Its wing had broken clean off and its face was mangled. It was beautiful and creepy at the same time. I brushed the thought away as I tried to navigate the chute and land in a field near Jax, however, I was dropping too fast to do anything. I was going to end up in the trees.

I fell through the branches feeling them each cut through my uniform and into my skin until my chute got caught up on one of the larger branches. I looked down taking in the fact that there were about five feet between me and the ground.

“Fuck.” I exhaled and took a breath in before I released myself from the chute, making sure to bend my knees upon impact so I wouldn’t break my legs on the fall. I stood, checking myself over making sure nothing was innately broken, just a few bumps and bruises. I started running in the direction I saw Jax go.

“Jax!! Jax!” I yelled as I saw him on the ground in the valley, I started to sprint my heart going fast as I ran up to him to check him over as well.

“Are you okay?” I asked him, worry breaking through as I saw him lying down propped up on his right arm. He had cuts all over his face from the fall.

“Yeah I’m alright, you look terrible.” I scoffed at his sarcasm as I slid to him on my knees and embraced him in a hug.

“Be serious, now’s not the time for bullshit,” I told him as I started to do an initial assessment of his leg. He had already applied a tourniquet, but it was already soaked through its color now crimson with his blood.

“Oh my god. I have to change this, now.” I said as I sniffed, my nose starting to run as it was freezing. I rummaged through my flight suit looking for a new tourniquet.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. I love you, it’ll be alright” He said to me, grabbing my face to look at him, he started to wipe my tears away. I didn’t even realize that I had started to cry. In times such as these I tended to push through until I couldn’t anymore.

“I love you too, I’m fine Jax, let go of me. Let’s just get this patched up, okay?” I told him practically prying his hands off my face. Now was not the time to break down and he wasn’t helping me keep my emotions in check. If I allowed myself to feel we would be in way worse condition. I finally found a tourniquet and whipped it out. As I observed his wound I realized that I didn’t want to remove the old one and cause more damage so I placed it on top covering it up. I then pulled the ends as tight as I could and tied them together Jax whimpering in the process.

“I’m sorry” I whispered out. He nodded his gaze not leaving my eyes. As his hand searched for mine.

“Where are we?” I asked clearing my throat, as I held his gloved hand in my own. I was trying to distract him from the current situation, but it wasn’t working.

“In the mountains north of Miciovic. Do you think they saw us eject?” He asked me, not wanting to beat around the bush, I did love that about him.

“We won’t be here when they come looking. But the Navy is going to be wondering what happened to their 40 million dollar plane, so that gives me hope,” I told him pulling out my radio.

“I already tried, you need to get to higher ground.” I looked around at the pine trees that surrounded the valley.

“Do you think it’ll work up there?” I asked him pointing to the hill in question.

“Yes Maeve, just make sure you get high enough.” He told me. I sighed letting myself catch my breath, dropping his hand and bracing, putting my arm back to push myself up.

“Okay,” I took a deep breath, standing up.

“Wait–” Jax uttered, catching my wrist with his hand and pulling me back down to a squatting position in front of him.

“Yeah?” I asked him as the moment of silence stood between us.

“Promise me that you’ll move on if anything happens.” I started to shake my head and say no but he held up his hand to stop me from talking. Not normally an obedient little girl I stopped looking into his eyes that were starting to tear up. I wanted nothing more than to hold him.

“If something happens, I want you not to dwell on this moment, I want you to be happy. Try not to think about me too often but just enough. You cannot let grief control your life. I don’t want you to quit the Navy either. You love it here, you love flying. I know, you’ve got to be one of the best pilots out here. Don’t let those boys push you around, you’re a fantastic person and I know you’ll do great things when you get out of here. Once the assignment changes it will be worth it, I promise. This opportunity led me to you and I can’t thank whatever higher power is up there enough for that. I love you Maeve Scarlett Ford. Don’t you dare come after me, I want you to promise me that.” Before I knew it the tears were streaming down my face yet again. I hated him in this moment, it ripped me apart, but I knew that I would do the same thing in his position.

“I love you, Jax, I promise, but if we get out of here together we’re getting married immediately,” I told him as he brought our foreheads together and wiped my tears away.

“Immediately my love, I promise.” He smiled looking into my eyes and leaned in. As his lips touched mine I knew I would never move on from him, not fully at least. It was a wholesome and lingering kiss that would put me on my ass in a normal situation. But this was far from my definition of normal. The potential of becoming POWs was very real. But if I didn’t have to walk away from him now I never would. I ripped myself away from the love of my life and set my sights on the hill in front of me. I didn’t get very far before I stopped in my tracks.

“Babe, I should’ve dodged that fucking missile,” I said as I turned back to him.

“Yeah, yeah you should’ve, you blew it and you took me down with you. I thought you had great reflexes, what happened to you?! I used to have a good pilot, you’re slipping. You need to watch it.” He sarcastically replied with a smile on his face. My laugh penetrated the sad air that lingered around us. I walked away from him, continually looking back to make sure he was okay as I made the trek up the hill.

The sound of treads, tires, and footsteps startled my thoughts as I heard them cut through the mud and grass near Jax’s position. I stopped near a tree and pulled my miniature binoculars out. He was surrounded on all sides.

“Fuck.” I breathed out as I watched the army of men walk up to him and step on his newly dressed and now bloody wound. The men formed a circle around him, we were vastly outnumbered, and there was nothing I could do but watch. A car pulled up and the two men inside stepped out one with a navy blue beret on and the other in a blue sweatsuit. I watched as another man in the squad retrieved Jax’s handgun that was in his chest pocket and threw it to the man in the sweatsuit. I saw Jax give him a card that we carried in our pockets that is used in case we were shot down, the man threw it to the side not bothering to look at it. I watched as the beret talked to him and then touched his comrade in the sweatsuit's shoulder. The men filed away it looked like we may have gotten lucky, and my heart swelled with hope as sweatsuit man lit up a cigarette. I knew better than to go running back down the hill to him even though that’s all I wanted to do in this moment. The sweatsuit man helped Jax stand up. Jax glanced toward the treeline at me shaking his head no, he knew me well enough to know I would try something. My heart froze. The man in the sweatsuit inspected Jax’s flight helmet behind him just before he pulled Jax’s handgun and shot him in the head.

“NO!” I cried out realizing my mistake almost immediately, I covered my hand over my mouth as the tears started again. I quickly got up and started to run, I sprinted as they started to open fire on me with their tanks and guns, the ground exploading around me. I ran as fast as I possibly could away from everything I knew and loved. Now it was my turn to stay alive when all I wanted to do was give up. My body was not giving up.

Eventually, I reached the peak of a far mountain so that they would not find me. But I knew I would need to keep fighting, tomorrow was a different story. I pulled out my radio when I reached the top,

“Alpha Whiskey, this is Archangel 06 over.” I tried the radio sobbing uncontrollably as I tried to get an evacuation going.

“Damn, good attempt ladies. I’m impressed! Get back on the ground, we’ll debrief on the way back since you are the last flight of the day.” I heard Jester say to us but the words were muffled. I was stuck, I made no movements to the plane and kept it as we were straight and easy flying.

“Reaper?” I heard Doe ask me but I couldn’t snap out of it.

“Standby Jester,” She said to him over the frequency.

“Copy? What’s going on? Reaper, Doe? You alright?” He asked her confused.

“She’s fine, just give me a minute with her.” She replied, attempting to preserve my decency no doubt.

“Hey look at me.” She said sternly trying to get my attention in the mirror. My eyes flickered over to her but for a second I thought I could see Jax, his blue eyes sparkling at me as I took a deep breath. I blinked hard, attempting to get my eyes to focus and my brain to get back in the game.

“We’re okay, we did fine. It was a bit fast, but we’ll get it next time. I’m sure no one passed.” She said to me. I didn’t reply, thinking about the last time I saw Jax the gunshot echoing in my head. She tried again.

“Maeve, Jax isn’t here with you it’s me, Crystal, we’ll talk about it more once we’re on the ground but I need you to snap out of it now. We’re not in Bosnia, it’s not winter. It’s actually really fucking hot outside, so I’d love to get in some air conditioning. Can you do that for me, please? I know that missile lock sound probably set you off. But you're okay, you're here with me.” She said, I blinked again, tears forming in my eyes. I blinked them away looking around and seeing Jester on my wing.

“Fuck, he’s going to rip me apart,” I said to no one in particular.

“We’ll see, I’m hoping he lets this one slide,” Doe said to me.

“Jester, lead us back in,” I said over the frequency. He proceeded to bank left, and I banked left with him on his right-wing all the way. I focused on my landing, and how much different it was going to be from the aircraft carrier. I plugged in the frequency for ATIS and listened to the wind direction and speed, what runway they were using, and the alphabetical letter they assigned to the current ATIS.

“Reaper, Doe, we’ll debrief later at 19:00, get your showers in and see me in my office.” Jester said.

“Copy. Thank you sir” Doe replied.

“Miramar tower this is Reaper with Oscar coming from the northwest full stop”

“Copy Reaper overfly the airport and enter on the downwind for two four right, you’ve got Jester in front of you.”

“Enter on the downwind for two four right,” I replied to them. I veered to the left then when I felt a good distance from the runway I turned right entering the downwind.

“Reaper do a right 360 for spacing” Tower advised.

“Right 360” I replied as I entered a 30-degree right turn waiting for my clearance as I straightened up for my downwind leg. I put the landing gear down. Looking down I watched Jester land and clear the runway as I entered my base. I put in 20 degrees of flaps and reduced my power waiting for my airspeed to drop and then tilted my nose down turning into my final approach. I watched as the runway started to come up faster than I was expecting. I threw in 30 degrees quickly and dropped my power bringing us into a flatter attitude. Tilting the nose up as I did so I felt the ground beneath the wheels. I listened to the taxi instructions and forced myself to do the rest of the movements until we were parked on the tarmac in our spot.

“You okay?” Doe asked me, knowing I was more than likely going to have to explain this to the guys.

“I’ll be alright, I need a shower,” I told her as I shut down both her and the aircraft, popping open the canopy. I couldn’t wait to feel hot water against my skin to wash away the memories I had today.

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smaptain-smerica · 2 years

Text

Female Reader x Rooster

Time: Post-Top gun: Maverick

Y/n Blackwood - L/n, daughter of Charlotte "Charlie" Blackwood. Y/n took a strong interest in planes from a young age. Knowing her father was an esteemed pilot drew her even further into the navy. Quickly, she became one of the best solo pilots and graduating at the top of her class at Top Gun.

Her next mission? Return to Top Gun, Face certain death, romantic interests, and finally, her thought-to-be-dead, father.

This book contains strong language and sexual content that may be sensitive readers under the age of 18

This story was originally posted on Wattpad, follow me on there for faster updates. I have published a non-binary version of this story published there for those who do not identify as female or use she/her pronouns. It will follow the exact same story line. Link to Wattpad Account Link to the Non-Binary version

Master list

Liar, Liar

Hangman went first today. He put up a good fight but ultimately, was shot down. Now was Rooster.

I listened closely to the radio, wanting to hear everything these two said to each other.

"Good morning, Rooster."

"Morning Mav, ready to get your ass kicked?"

"Hand it to me."

I could hear the grunts of struggle between the two pilots as they flew through the air. I was on the edge of my seat, anticipating everything.

"Shit shit shit." Rooster cursed into his headset followed by a grunt. It was hard to imagine what was going on up in the sky.

"Come on kid, hit me. Hit me." That was Maverick, my only guess is that rooster had caught up from behind him.

"Now to hit the breaks and glide right over." There it was, the trick Maverick always pulled on everyone. There was a few moments of silence before alarms could be heard blaring over the radio.

"Jet wash jet wash!" Rooster exclaimed, I could hear him grunt in response.

"Get control of it kid!"

"Im trying I'm trying!"

"Oh no." "That's not good." A few of the other pilots whispered behind me, staring nervously and impatiently at the radio.

"I got it. We're good." Rooster exhaled gratefully, as did everyone else in the room back in the ground.

"Rooster you could have gotten yourself killed with that. You're out. Wolf, in the air in 5." Mavericks voice sounded disappointed, like rooster was receiving a scolding from a father.

I jumped up from my chair, encouraging cheers coming from behind me that faded as I ran to the hanger. That was the second time I had seen my name on a Top Gun plane. I slid my fingers across my steel painted name with a smile. After crawling into the jet and preparing myself, I was launched into the air.

I got comfortable, settling into the cab of the plane and looking at all the buttons and levers. The adrenaline pumping through my veins already and I haven't started fighting yet.

"Alright Wolf, let's see what you've got for me." Mavericks voice sang in my headset, causing me to smirk.

"Bring it on old man!" A sudden rush of air pushed my plane sideways as Maverick rushed up at me from beneath. Quickly I regained control, throttling upwards to chase after him. We did a series of quick turns, dives, rolls and loops. I was struggling, but I could see what he was doing. He was trying to wear me out, allow me to slip up. I was strong, my mind was strong willed, I would not slip up.

Maverick couldn't shake me from his tail, I could see him struggle on what to do. Although, I knew he was making too many turns for me to be able to get a radar lock on him. I gained speed, approaching closer and closer as we leveled out to a straight away. This had to be it, the break and fly over. I thought about what I was going to do, how to avoid being shot down.

I moved the missile launcher to position, finally connecting a tone on mavericks plane. That only lasted for a second before I noticed the planes weight shift backwards and it sailed right over the top of me. "Woah." I marveled, looking up through the glass at the underneath of mavericks plane.

The plan I formed quickly in my head was just as quickly executed. I punched forward and sailed straight up into the sun. I was blinded, couldn't see a thing in front of me as I squinted my eyes but kept going forward until I was sure I was high enough. I then exited the suns rays, gliding along with the clouds.

It seemed like forever had passed of me gliding over the sky's until I laid eyes on the solo plane beneath me. I breathed slowly, thinking about my next move.

Maverick had other ideas, he must have seen me on the radar because he veered off and then began to head right for me. We were now facing off head to head, his plane quickly approaching mine.

I felt steady anxiety rise in my chest, now we were in a game of chicken in metal cans up in the air. He was approaching fast, my radar beeping at me to indicate an incoming object. I made the quick decision to fly to the right, my plane at a 90 degree angle.

I watched Maverick watch me fly right past him. Once I was towards the back of the plane I readied the guns, as I was too close for missiles. "Come on, give me tone give me tone." I grunted, working hard to steer the plane and toggle the radar.

Then I heard it, a beautiful ringing tone in my ears and astonishment washed over me. I leveled out my plane and began flying steadily. "Holy shit." I uttered.

"Holy shit indeed. Nice flying Wolf. Maverick, is down." Mavericks voice was music to my ears. Hearing those words gave me a sense of pride like nothing I've ever felt before. Maverick punched the glass as a sign of a job well done, which I reciprocated as we began our decent back to solid ground.

I took off my helmet and looked down to see a few other pilots sprinting around the corner of the hangar and running towards me. Joy overfilled me as I climbed down from the plane. I threw both my arms into the air and let out of a yell of excitement.

The yell was cut off by a fit of laughing as fanboy had gotten to me first, picking me up and spinning me around in a hug. "I told you!" He exclaimed.

I was put down and turned around to the next person, Phoenix, who wrapped me in a hug. "I bet that feels good!"

The next people I ended up giving bro hugs too, pats of congratulations and astonishment. At the end of the crowd was Hangman. He looked me up and down, obviously sour that he wasn't able to get a shot at Maverick. His face softened, smiling even as he held out his hand.

"I'm still better than you." He teased, winking at me. "Not today Hangman, not today." I teased back.

There was one person not celebrating, Rooster. He leaned against the large overhead door opening and looked at the interaction happening between us. His sunglasses were on and his face stone cold.

As the group walked back, we approached rooster. He looked down at his feet, scuffing his boots along the pavement. "Good flying." Was the only thing he managed to muster up. I admit, I was disappointed.

"Thank you." I replied kindly to his pathetic attempt at congratulations. I waited for everyone to leave to go back inside before continuing the conversation between us.

"What happened up there? Are you okay?" I asked, trying to put together pieces of the puzzle aside from what I heard on the radio.

"I choked, tried something I wasn't ready for." He admitted, his eyes anywhere but on me, the person initiating the conversation with him.

"Better to practice here than in the battle field. Mistakes can be learned from here, you'll get there and you'll beat him." I smiled, placing a comforting hand on his upper bicep, trying to regain his attention back on me.

Rooster looked down at me and rolled his eyes, moving away from my touch. "What like Maverick didn't just let you win that?"

I was astonished by the accusation. How could he have let me win? I thought it fueled his ego to crack down on the pilots. Maverick doesn't seem like the type to let someone win. "What are you talking about?"

"When are you and Mav gonna stop lying to us, huh? When is this act going to end?" Rooster was getting heated, his arms expressing his emotions as they flailed around as he rambled.

"Lying?" I raised an eyebrow, shifting my weight to one foot and crossing my arms over my chest.

"Yes lying! Lying about never having not met him before, lying about your Dad getting you into this program."

"My dad? My dad died before I was even born. Bradley you're crossing the line."

"Again with this whole charade! I know Pete Mitchell is your dad! I read about it in your mothers letters to my mom!" Rooster yelled.

I felt anger, frustration as to why I was being lectured by someone who I had met only a few days ago. Then I felt it, a pit in my stomach. My emotions of anger faded and turned to confusion, realization. The letter, the letter I gave to Pete, did that disclose my paternity? Had my mother lied to me all these years?

Rooster seemed to realize at the same time as me, his entire body changed. His shoulders relaxed, face fell to realization. His voice became softer as he spoke. "Oh my god, you didn't know."

Thoughts swirled around in my head as I tried to stop it from spinning. I just stared at Rooster and he reciprocated it. He ran his fingers through his hair and let out a strained sign.

"Y/n-" Rooster tried to take my arm to comfort me in some way but I pulled away from him. I forcefully shoved my way past him, on a mission to find Maverick and demand to see the letter.

"Y/n I'm sorry! Oh shit." Roosters voice faded as I stormed down the hallway. My frustrated walk turned into a sprint as I searched every possibly room for any sign of Maverick. Finally I stumbled upon his designated office. A white piece of paper with the words "Captain Pete "Maverick" Mitchell" typed up on it.

I flung the door open without thinking. In the chair behind the desk sat Pete, a paper in his hands and tears in his eyes. His expression fell as he came in and he immediately stood up. He wiped his eyes and sniffled through his nose. "You shouldn't come into your captains room without requesting a -"

"Are you my father?" I could feel my voice crack as the uncontrollable emotions rose from within me.

He bit his lower lip, tears starting to well from his eyes. He beckoned me to come closer and I did so, shutting the door behind me. Pete silently handed me the letter. Finally, the letter that was in the back of my mind recently. I tenderly took the paper, sitting down and flattening it out on the desk. I stared at my mothers elegant handwriting, nerves getting to me.

My dearest Pete,

I hope this letter finds you in good health. If it does, it means that I am no longer here. It also means you have finally met my beautiful daughter. I lived a long happy life. My job in DC treated me well, I stayed there up until I got sick. I got married to a wonderful man named Harold L/n. I have two regrets in my life. My first one, not coming back to you. Pete Mitchell I thought about you every second of every day that we were apart. There isn't a man on this earth that I could love and admire as much as you. You were the one true love of my life. My second regret, never telling you about my daughter, our daughter. I found out I was pregnant about a month after I had left. Y/n is every bit as stubborn and brilliant as you are. She made me feel whole again after having to leave you. She has your dazzling smile and hard work ethic. I tried to steer her away from piloting, but she is her fathers daughter, through and through. I knew there was only a matter of time before you two met. I am leaving it to you to tell y/n who you really are, whenever you're ready. I know it's a lot to process and I am sorry I couldn't be there to share the news with you.

Forever yours, Charlotte "Charlie" Blackwood

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