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nahoney22 · 1 year

Note

Heyyyyy love, I absolutely love everything you write. I have an itty bitty request!

Would you be able to write a cute fluffy fic with a plus sized female reader with tech with just a touch of spice to it?

You could also make it fun and do one for all the batch members?

Please and thank you if you can!! 🥰🥰

*fun fact - I made that tech edit many moons ago so I’m happy to see it still be used! 🥰🥹*

Embracing the Curves***

All Bad Batch Boys X F!Reader

warnings: Mild NSFW, suggestive themes, plus sized female reader, confident reader (we’re all beautiful plus size or not!), mentions of a busty reader in some parts. Tech and Hunters parts are with an established relationship, others are not.

Authors note: decided to do small one shots for each of them in this post, write more for Tech and Echo because… it’s them ♥️ hope that’s okay with you @clonehoe- sorry for the wait !!!

Masterlist

Tech

Tech was watching you work with great interest, proud of the progress you had made in learning all the tips and tricks necessary for ship repairs. As he observed you beneath the control panel, clad in a snug tank top and form-fitting black pants that accentuated your every curve, he couldn't help but feel his heart rate skyrocket.

"Has the light come on yet?" you asked, your voice slightly muffled by the spanner between your teeth as you glanced up at him for assistance. The ship was scorching hot and it didn’t help that you were settled on a planet that had two suns to add to the heat. The heat system has always been faulty and despite you telling Tech you wanted to focus on fixing that, he was set in you fixing the hyperdrive first.

"Not yet. Try rotating the wiring counterclockwise. That should do the trick," he replied, his voice strained as he watched you work under his guidance. "There it is..." he murmured, his gaze darting to the lights above the control panel as you worked to fix the hyperdrive. "Good girl," he added, his endearment causing a flurry of excitement in your stomach.

Despite the nickname making you momentarily lose your concentration and hit your head against the side of the panel, you managed to remain focused on the task at hand. "Is it working now?" you asked, seeking confirmation with a smile as you wiped sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand.

"Yes, I have to say, I'm very impressed with your skills," he said, helping you out from under the control panel until you plopped down in a nearby seat to catch your breath.

"Yeah?" you asked, seeking reassurance.

"Absolutely," he replied, though his eyes were preoccupied with the alluring contours of your physique. "Perfect," he added, struggling to meet your gaze.

You couldn't help but smirk as you watched Tech struggle to keep his composure under your teasing gaze. Folding your arms over your chest, you subtly pushed your bust up to enhance your assets, causing Tech to wipe the steam that had suddenly formed on his goggles.

"Anything in particular that you're impressed with?" you asked, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

"W-well, it's hard not to be entranced by you looking the way you do while working under my command," he stammered, sitting up straight and tucking away his data pad. "I've adored your appearance since the first day we met, and seeing you all - forgive me - sweaty and wearing tight clothes is quite a fever dream," he added, his words causing a blush to rise on his cheeks.

You stood up slowly and took a couple of steps towards Tech, tilting his chin up to meet your gaze. "That's very sweet of you to say, Tech," you replied, your voice dripping with false innocence and a hint of teasing. "I am feeling a little sweaty though. Perhaps a shower would cool me down," you hinted, hoping he would pick up on your not-so-subtle suggestion.

Tech stood up abruptly, his hands flying to your waist and his fingers digging into your fleshy skin. "Perhaps since you helped me repair my ship, I could help you get freshened up," he offered, his lips trailing down your neck and over your chest despite the sweat that covered your skin.

"Eager, are we?" you asked, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck and suppressing a sweet sigh.

"Very much so," Tech groaned, holding you as close as possible. The two of you were rarely alone on the overcrowded ship, and with his brothers gone on a mission, Tech wasn't about to waste the opportunity to map out your whole body with his tongue.

Echo

"Trooper, what appears to be the issue?" Your entrance into the medbay had Echo stunned, his eyes locked onto your stunning, curvaceous figure and beautiful eyes.

He found himself gaping, struggling to find his words as he wished he had accepted help from the medical droid instead of being left in this state of awe.

"Trooper?"

Apologising for his silence, Echo managed to inform you of his injury to his femur that he sustained during a mission that had left him more grumpy than usual but your soft smile and calm presence helped to ease his nerves. Though, he was a little preoccupied on how your uniform was snug but not to the point it looked bad. It look really good.

He always took himself for a gentleman but as he gapes at you with hungry eyes, it was hard not to get enthralled by you.

You sat down next to him with a datapad, ready to take notes. "Can you tell me how this happened?" you asked with a soft smile.

Echo explained that he sustained the injury during a mission when heavy debris fell on him. You expressed sympathy and asked, "Are you in any pain, sweetie?" You were surprised by the endearment that slipped out of your mouth, although neither of you mentioned it. Then again, you did think he was much cuter than any other clone he had seen.

"Just a little, not as much as before," Echo replies steadily, hoping his blushing cheeks aren't too noticeable.

"I see. Have you been taking any medication for it?"

“No ma’am,”

You nod in understanding and stand to your feet again, placing your device to the side and slide on a pair of gloves. “Do I have permission to touch your leg to feel for any breaks?”

“Yes please.”

You both blink at one another and the quick realisation of what Echo just said sunk in fast but, you were blushing which was a good sign… wasn’t it?

“I mean, uh, do what you have to do ma’am.” He clears his throat, keeping his eyes diverted away from you but you could only smile at him in return and proceed to gently caress his thigh.

“Does it hurt here?” You ask, adding gentle pressure.

“No,” He says through gritted teeth, absolutely loving the touch of your hands on him - even if you were a stranger and even if it was simply your job.

“And here?” You ask again, applying pressure to a different area and as he winced in pain, your question was answered.

After a few more assessments, you highlighted that his femur isn’t fractured, only bruised and should heal naturally on its own. As you give the diagnosis, it went through one ear and out the other because again, his eyes being to wander and land on your hips as you turn away but caught him looking as you turn back to him.

You place your hands to your hips and smirk, “See something you like, Trooper?”

Echo’s eyes widened and he mumbled a thousand apologies at once, stumbling off the bed and thanking you for the help. You had a inkling that you may be seeing him again sometime. Well, you hoped so.

Hunter

Watching you work out was one of Hunter's favourite pastimes. The day was sweltering, and you naturally dressed in less clothing than usual for your workouts.

"Can I join you?" Hunter approaches you with a grin, sporting nothing but shorts that accentuated his tanned and toned body in the sunlight.

Finding yourself gaping in awe at his body too, you can only smirk back, slipping into a fighting stance and recalling every technique that Hunter had taught you. "How could I say no to you?" You ask and as you move, sweat drips from your body, enhancing your already alluring figure and heightening Hunter's senses.

"Good form," he compliments, stepping closer to you. His tone hints at his admiration for not only your workout performance but also your physique.

"Oh really?" You turn your head to glance at him, your eyes twinkling with amusement. "Why don't you demonstrate some other stances for me?"

Hunter relishes in the playful tone of your voice and steps up behind you, placing his hands tenderly on your hips, which he always yearns to touch. "Angle your body to the left and add a bounce to your knees," he instructs, guiding you through the movement. Though he knows you are capable of executing the exercise on your own, he can't resist the opportunity to have his hands on you.

You follow his directions but find yourself a little distracted by his touch. Even with his heightened senses, it feels as though Hunter is transferring his energy to you as his fingers caress the curves of your hips, trailing down to your thighs and back up to your arse, sending shivers down your spine. “Hunter…” you find yourself moaning his name, earning a low chuckle.

“Don’t get distracted by me,” he breathes down the nape of your neck but with his bare torso against your back and his hands roaming your body, it was so hard not to.

Wrecker

Wrecker had always admired your body, but it was your thighs that truly captivated him. At first, he was drawn in by your beauty, and it took some time for him to realize the full extent of his fascination. It wasn't until he saw you wearing shorts to bed one night that he truly understood the power of your curvy legs.

Now, as you lay on your cot reading a holobook, legs propped up in the air, Wrecker found himself once again unable to tear his gaze away from your thighs. He was so engrossed in his own thoughts that he didn't notice you watching him until you decide to speak up.

"May I make you an offer, Wrecker?" You asked, and he nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of your voice. He cleared his throat and tried to act casual as he responded.

"Sure, what is it?"

"If you promise to stop staring at my legs all the time, I'll let you come over and give them a massage," you smirk, lowering your holobook to look him in the eye. Wrecker felt his face flush with embarrassment. Had it been so obvious that he couldn't take his eyes off you?

He started to stammer out an apology, but you cut him off with a wave of her hand and a soft smile.

"I don't mind," you say, sitting up until you’re sitting on your legs and teasingly entice him over by beckoning him with your finger. “I like to think they’re my best assets,” you comment, patting your legs that made them subtly jiggle which almost made him drop his helmet he was cleaning.

“Well, they are pretty.” He stands and comes closer until he sits on the edge of your bed watching you shift from your current position to you sat with them laid out. “Did ya mean your offer?” He asks, fingers twitching to reach out and touch your skin.

“I did,” you smirk, “go ahead.”

His hands come down to your thighs, large and rough yet gentle as he caresses your skin. He watches you for your reaction and as you tilt your head back and sigh in satisfaction, he knew he made the right choice in accepting your offer.

Crosshair

Crosshair watched as you struggled to hit the bottles he had set up as targets. He shook his head in disapproval and clicked his tongue, his new found admiration for you mingling with his frustration at your poor performance. But, he couldn’t help but also admire the view of you.

"You're doing it all wrong," he chided from the sidelines. To which, you let out a heavy sigh and nearly threw the rifle to the ground in frustration.

"I'm standing exactly where you told me to," you huffed, earning an eye roll from Crosshair. He approaches you, a small smirk on his lips as he positioned himself behind you.

"No, you're not," he teased, but he softened his tone as he sensed your frustration growing. "Stand here," he instructed, pointing to a spot next to him.

Reluctantly, you obeyed, standing close to him as he instructed you to raise the rifle and relax your shoulders. Crosshair watched you with his sharp eyes, feeling a sense of power as he towered over you.

"Okay, now what?" You asked, breath steady as you glanced back at him. You couldn't help but feel weak in the knees whenever he looked at you like that. He always had a hold over you, and him being so close to you now didn't help.

"Don't look at me, look at the target," he commanded. His voice, which usually dripped with venom, was surprisingly soft and alluring.

Turning away, you let out a small and surprised gasp as his hands come to your waist but to your surprise, he let out a small gasp himself.

“Wow princess,” he cooed, his fingers melting against the curve of your body, “I always knew you had a beautiful body but to touch it… stunning.” He breathes down your neck.

Your eyes widened at his words but you succumbed quickly to his touch, your back pressed against his chest as his hands begin to roam your body. “Y-you like my body?” You question with a hint of insecurity but your question is answered as he finally places his lips to your neck.

“I love,” he sighs, caressing your body from over your clothes, “every inch.”

You end up dropping his weapon eventually, it clanging to the floor with a thud and as you go to apologise, he spins you to face him, close and dominant. “Screw it,” he grunts, devouring your lips with his own.

That was enough teaching for one day…

Masterlist

My Kofi

Tags: @nunanuggets @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @cwarssimp @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka @oohyesplease @megafrost4 @theroguesully @equalityforcats @mustluvecho @misogirl828 @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @chxpsi @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @rain-on-kamino @either-madness-or-brilliance @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @kixs-husband @pb-jellybeans @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @seriowan @agenteliix @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @imalovernotahater @swiftiexstarwarssimp @the-good-shittt @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder @erellenora

#bad batch x reader #nahoney22 writes #the bad batch #tech x reader #Hunter x reader #echo x reader #wrecker x reader #crosshair x reader #tbb #tbb x reader #tbb x you

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ohtobeleah · 1 year

Note

So if Chaos & Hawkeye are in the same little universe, what happens when Hawk finds out Chaos punched Hangman?

I can’t tell you how fucking much that throws a spanner in the works. But as always here’s the previous updates for anyone wanting to follow along. And here’s Chaos for those who maybe want to check that out too.

The smell of fresh coffee wafted through your bedroom. Notes of cinnamon and caramel slapping you in the face as Jake stood right beside your bed. A smirk plastered on his face as he watched you toss the covers off dramatically, you’d ended up with his shirt, your hair a mess. Your eyes puffy from the little sleep you had both gotten.

“Good morning sleeping beauty—“ Jake takes a sip of his own coffee as he’s handing you the cup he made you. “Coffee?”

“You stay the night on your own accord?” Rubbing your face as you sat up, fluffing the pillows behind your back. Taking the coffee with a small thank goodness leaving your lips with the sigh you let out.

“Did you want me to walk home without a shirt?” Leaning in to kiss your forehead softly, Jake couldn’t get the images of you from last night out of his head.

“Fuck—“ Full. That’s what it felt like as Jake held you up against the cool tiles of your shower. “More—baby more.” Your teeth sinking into Jake's bottom lip as you mumbled into his mouth. Messy. Needy. Chasing that oh so delectable high as Jake's arms snaked under your legs, folding you into the perfect angle where he knew you’d feel every god damn inch he could possibly give you. His hips thrusting up into you at just the right pace.

“God you’re just as good as I remember—“ Jake could barely control himself. He could feel his own high pooling in the base of his shaft. Twitching. His balls tights. “I’m gonna romance your pants off when we’re done here, but first? I’m gonna finish fucking you silly.”

“Oh that’s so beautiful.” You knew teasing and taunting is what made Jake thrive. “Is that Shakespeare?” Moaning as he fastened his pace a little more. Heavier thrust behind each flick of his hips, hitting deeper and deeper. Grunts and angelic moans that made Jake question his own insanity escaped as water ran down from above. Hot steam fogging the class of your shower. “Fuck!!! I’m so close—“

“God wanna feel you cum around me baby, c’mon beautiful, cum for me—“

“Please, any excuse for you not to wear a shirt is a good enough excuse.” Rolling your eyes as Jake padded around to the other side of the bed. His boxer briefs hanging low. Settling in beside you. “So—“

“So?” Jake cooed as he sipped his coffee, his free hand coming to rest behind his head. A small roman numerals tattoo making an appearance on his tricep. The date of your wedding. You’d forgotten he’d gotten it on your third wedding anniversary. Just before things started to take a turn for the worst. “What do you mean so?”

“Well I usually don’t bring guys home on the first date, especially guys who don’t even show up to the first date, so I’m a little stumped on where to go from here.” Jake couldn’t hold back the laugh he let loose. His chest rumbling as he lulled his head towards you. Checks a soft crimson as he took in the sight of you. His wife. His only love. His best friend.

“You do remember we’re married right?” You hadn’t forgotten, how could you? It’s what you’d spent the last year and a half of your life trying to run away from.

“Uh, that’s a technicality—“ Beaming, you turned to face Jake with a soft smirk. “I don’t bring guys home on the first date.” Holding your coffee cup close to your chest, you leaned in. Softly placing your lips on Jakes as he ducked his head ever so slightly to meet you.

“So I’m the exception to the rule then?” Raising his eyebrow questioning your statement, Jake kissed you again before pulling away for another sip of his coffee, letting his arm fall around your shoulders as he drew you into him. Your back leaning against his side.

“More like a lapse in judgment.” Quick. That’s how Jake would describe your sense of humor. Quick witted and playfully dry. Deep down, Jake knew you were just having a tease. Keeping him on his toes. So he didn’t press. “What time do you have to be on base?”

“Like ten?” Yawning, Jake finished off his coffee as you did yours. Watching with hooded eyes as you crawled off the bed. Feet padding against the floor of your bedroom. “What about you?” You weren’t wearing a watch, but you still looked at your wrist. Already knowing you had about half an hour tops to get your shit sorted and out the door.

“Like now—“ With a beaming smile and a glint in your eye, you threw Jake's top at him. Leaving yourself totally exposed before him as you made your way to your bathroom. “So, take your shirt and get out of my house.”

“Oh so you’re tossing me out the second I’m no use to you huh?” Grabbing his shirt Jake raced after you as you let out a small squeal. Racing down the hall. Completely exposed. Thank the lord your blinds were closed. “Just using me for my exceptional coffee making skills and stroke game huh?” It was true, his stroke game was immaculate.

“I can’t say I didn’t enjoy your stroke game, Lieutenant—but your services are no longer required.” It was like you were back in high school again. Playfully flirting as Jake chased you down in just your underwear. His shirt balled in his hand as he finally caught you by the front door. “I’ll see you later—“

“You seriously are kicking me out huh?” Jake kissed you tenderly and ever so softly as you opened your front door. Hiding behind it as you ushered him onto your front porch in just his underwear. “Babe—!”

“Bye Lieutenant Seresin!” Shutting the door as you let your back rest against it, biting your bottom lip to stop yourself from smiling. The thought of things being okay again was almost overwhelming. Overpowering. Shaking it off you made your way back to your bathroom, needing to desperately get ready. Quickly.

“Uh, do I want to know?” Coyote smirked as he pulled up out the front of your house. Noticing the stranded Jake Seresin standing in his underwear at your front door on his way to base. “Need a lift?”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

You really should have known that the other foot was going to drop sooner rather than later. For someone as superstitious as you, you really should have seen it coming. But you just didn’t. Maybe you did want to see it coming?

Jake collected himself as his jaw throbbed. Rooster didn’t take his eyes off Chaos as she still shouted profanities Hangmans way. Being carried out of the room over Mavericks shoulder. “Let me fucking at him!! Let go of me!! Say it again Seresin I swear to fucking god!” You’d come out of your office to see what all the commotion had been about—standing still in your tracks as you watched Chaos being carried down the hall, Rooster hot on Mavericks tail with concern evident in his eyes. Bobs too. Turning to see Jake walking towards you holding his hand pressed to his jaw. It looked irritated.

“What the hell happened?” You knew it wasn’t a question you’d like the answer to. At all. But still, you asked as Jake came to a full standstill in front of you. “Do I even want to know?” Shaking his head softly with an unamusing hum, Jake answered.

“Chaos clocked me upside the jaw.” He didn’t take pride in the way he explained it. With no detail at all. Scared to admit the truth, knowing that this could very much change the way things had been going. “Nothing's broken—“ He was very aware that this type of behavior, the not playing well with others behavior was a massive contribution as to why you’d left in the first place. Unable to cope with the stress and anxiety it truly caused.

“Why would she do that?” Jake didn’t respond, his tongue pressing against the inner side of his cheek as he clenched his jaw. Looking anywhere but at you. “Jake? Why would she do that?” Moving yourself to catch his gaze, you turned his head towards where you stood. Forcing Jake Seresin to look you in the eye.

“Psychotic break?” He tried to joke, really not wanting to fight, not wanting to argue. But with the look you sent him, the warning look that he hated oh so much to be on the receiving end of—Jakes know it all demeanor softened into something else. He knew he was in the wrong. “I went through her papers alright—“ Speechless, stunned into silence, you didn’t respond. You simply shook your head in defeat and retreated back into your office. Following you in defense mode, Jake shut the door behind him. “That doesn’t change anything between us, it has nothing to do with us, it shouldn’t!” It changed everything. How after all these years was Jake still pulling the same childish stunts with the people who were meant to protect him, and be on his team.

“It changes absolutely everything!” Shouting as you stood the entire distance of your office away from your husband, the man you wanted to love so badly. “Jake, this is the entire reason why I left in the first place!” Holding back tears as you tried to explain your reasons. Explaining them for what felt like the one hundredth time to a man who just didn’t get the fucking point. “These people? How can you expect them to have your back when you go behind theirs?”

“But what has that got to do with you!? With us!?” Jake was now matching your tone, shouting at each other across the length of your office. When things were good, they were great—but when things were bad? They were bad.

“Because I don’t want to stand alone next to your fucking casket!!!” The weight your explanation carried hit Jake like a truck, he’d never thought of it like that. That you’d be the only one left to mourn him if things were to go wrong. “Here lies Jake Seresin, the guy who people couldn’t be more fucking stocked is six feet under—at least they know he can’t leave them hanging huh!? Hangman!!” You shot his call sign at him like a bullet racing through the barrel of a gun. “Chaos is probably one of the finest pilots I’ve ever seen fly—you’d be fucking LUCKY! to fly a mission with her, and here you are, pulling goddamn grade school level stitch ups that could cost you your life when it matters.” It was Jake's turn to be speechless as you put him in his place. “Why on earth would she risk her life to save yours now huh? Tough guy? Mr. Best of the best!”

“Shit that’s a little harsh isn’t it?” With his shoulders slightly less tall, Jake lowered his voice a little, scoffing because why was it always the end of the goddamn world with you? Why couldn’t you just live in the moment? Always planning, always preparing. “They know I’d lay my life down if I had to—“

“It might be tough, But it’s the truth! God it’s always about being the best of the best with you—doesn’t matter what you lose or who you step on to get there.” Jake Seresin was an incredible pilot. A formidable rival, with razor sharp instincts that made it effortlessly easy to be two steps ahead of anyone and everyone. But regardless, Jake Seresin—despite his capabilities, was still In fact, only mortal. “Who’s going to be left to save your soul if you keep doing things like this?”

“You can’t expect me to give up what I love for you, you married me knowing exactly what I wanted to be, who I wanted to be.” Did he not realise what he’d just said? Had Jake even heard what you were saying? When did you ask him to give anything up!? With your heart sinking into the pit of your stomach you finally came to the conclusion that you’d been trying to avoid for the last year and a half. That your husband, the love of your life, your best friend, could never love you the same way you loved him. He’d never love you as fiercely, as unconditionally, as you loved him. You would always come second to his job. A last priority at best.

If Jake asked you tomorrow to give everything up for him. If it was him or the job? You wouldn’t need time to think, to breathe. You’d give everything up. Just to be with him. As you stood completely bewildered before Jake, tears streaming down your face before your entire demeanor changed. Choosing to shut down, protect your heart or whatever torn up remnants were left. Stalking to stand behind your desk, leaning down on the oak with your hands splayed. Elbows locked.

“Yeah, and how’s that working out for you Lieutenant?” Challenging Jake's stance on the matter knowing this was the epitome of your marriage breakdown.

“Pretty fucking sensational if you ask me—“ Speechless. You had nothing left to give. You could hear a pin drop in your office. It had become that quiet, it was that heavy. “God Y/n what kind of a stupid question is that?”

“Well, I’m glad you’re okay with being lonely at the top, because I’ve already lost who I love, no need for sacrifices when he’s already someone completely unrecognisable—“

“Y/n—“ Now that, that struck a nerve.

“That will be all Lieutenant—“ You didn’t want to fight anymore. The Jake Seresin standing before you was not the Jake Seresin you fell in love with, he wasn’t the man you married, who promised to love you no matter what. Jake's addiction to being the best had become terminal. There was nothing left to say, nothing left to do. All you could do was simply wait for the day you were notified of his untimely death. Alone.

“Don’t Lieutenant me!” It came out more aggressive then he meant it. “God you can’t just pull the rank card now every time you want to avoid the topic!” He had a fair point, but at this moment in time you were past the point of reason.

“I said! that will be all Lieutenant Seresin!” It was the tears in your eyes that hurt him the most, the way your bottom lip quivered, the way it looked as if you were one strong gust of wind away from shattering into a million pieces. “Get the hell out of my goddamn office before I report you to the Admirals for gross misconduct.”

“You wouldn’t—“ Stepping closer with a hushed voice, Jake challenged you. Trying to close the gap between you as he stalked slowly towards your desk. “You wouldn’t sweetheart.” Ah, the sweetheart. Not a good time. “I know you wouldn’t—“

“You don’t know how far I’d go—“ Keeping your gaze locked on Jake you clenched your jaw tight. “loving you has become a losing game Jake, and I’m not going down without a fight, if you’re grounded at least I know you’d be safe.” Speaking through gritted teeth you let Jake come close to you, his hands on your hips as he looked you up and down. “You’re inability to play well with others is killing me, I can’t breathe, I can’t think, I can’t sleep—“

“Okay okay, listen.” Interrupting before you unraveled any further, Jake kissed your forehead, pulling you into his chest. “I know I let you down, more times than I’d like to admit—but I’ll work on it, for you.” He wasn’t lying. “I lost you once before, I’m just really fucking determined to just make things right—all I’ve ever known is how to love you Y/n and I really want you to know, you truly did take whatever good I had left in me, with you when you left.” Pulling away to look you in the eyes, you saw tears welling in Jakes. “I’m just trying to navigate my way back to you and I’m sorry, I’ll do better—because if it’s between losing you permanently and tolerating others I’ll do whatever you want me to do.” Pausing for a moment to clear his chest, Jake softened his voice a little more. “Just please don’t give up on me—“

There was still a lot you needed to find time to talk about. How Jake had tried to fill the void you left a time or twelve. Including but not limited to the moment he hit on Chaos at the Hard Deck not forty minutes after you had left his sight. You needed to do a deep dive into how you’d been suffering from crippling anxiety and post traumatic stress. To the point where most nights felt like there was an elephant sitting on your chest. But all that would have to wait. As you nodded softly, biting your bottom lip softly, divorce papers sat in your desk drawer.

“She got you pretty good, huh?” Ignoring the question, you reached out to tilt Jake's head softly, getting a good look at his jaw. “Must have had some swing behind it.” Assessing the damage, there seemed to be nothing but a busted ego. “

“Oh yeah, she’s got a solid hook.” Smirking as his fingertips played with the belt that held your slacks around your waist, Jake kept you close to him as he sat on your desk, pulling you between his legs. Your hands on his shoulders. “

“I can’t say you didn’t deserve it.” Taunting him, you leaned in to kiss Jake's lips softly. “You’ll need to apologise.” Nodding, Jake agreed. Already trying to do what he could to make things right in order to save his marriage.

“Yes ma’am.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Tags: @justanothermagicalsara @alexsisrebekah @stinkyjax @starkleila @luckyladycreator2 @love2write2626 @shanimallina87 @dempy @mintellaine @kiarabellerum31 @abaker74

#hangman x y/n #jake seresin x y/n #jake hangman seresin x reader #top gun hangman #top gun maverick fanfiction #jake seresin angst #hangman x you

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my-own-walker · 7 months

Text

Someone You've Never Seen Before

A Kyle Spencer Fan Fiction

frat!kyle AU, fem!main character, sexual themes, mature language, use of drugs and alcohol, frat boy antics

10.

Summer had officially taken her last bow. I felt genuinely chilly standing outside the KLG house on Sunday morning. The mid-morning sun shone just barely through the large willow tree in the front yard, the branches preventing it from sharing its warmth with me. The dress, sheer tights, and cardigan I wore did nothing to insulate me, either. I checked the time on my phone. 10:27 am.

We agreed to meet at 10:30, but of course, I was early. I felt rather foolish for waiting the way I was, trying too hard not to stare at the house expectantly. In an attempt to look disinterested, I placed headphones in my ears, putting my playlist on shuffle. I turned to face the street, rather than the yard, and a Two Door Cinema Club song began to play.

"There's a spanner in the works, you know."

Boy, was that the truth. Hannah, the perpetual spanner in the works, standing in the way of herself.

The hours leading up to the date, from Thursday night until Sunday at 10:27, well, now 10:28 am, I went back and forth with myself. Contemplating every damn aspect of the meetup. Was it a joke? Was he out to get me? I didn't actually develop feelings for a frat guy, did I? The part of myself that was obsessed with my own morals and hatred toward all things Greek life died a little when I thought too hard about it all.

The spanner in the works. Standing in the way of myself, preventing things from happening smoothly, ever.

My ego wouldn't even let me tell Lily about this. My best friend. The girl I told everything. Part of me felt anti-woman for not gossiping, giggling, and kicking my feet with my friend over this. Instead, I internalized it all. I kept the dismay in. A burden shared is a burden halved, but I refused to look weak.

Life has a way of falling into place. Things have a way of working out. For everyone. Everyone except me and the people around me. The events that are supposed to go off without a hitch like a well-oiled machine come sputtering to an awkward stop on account of me. The spanner in the works. Hannah the spanner.

Someone tapped my shoulder. I jumped and spun around, tearing an earbud out of my ear, jostled free from the grip of my thoughts.

"Hey," Kyle breathed, smiling. He panted slightly, making clear that he had jogged to me from the door. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

I laughed, grabbing his arm for stability, hinging at the hips slightly. "Christ, I was miles away," I managed. I started walking in the direction of Sleepwalker Coffee Co. (my choice, clearly), still holding onto Kyle. He followed suit.

"What were you thinking about?" he inquired, looking down and sideways at me with a smirk on his rosy face. The cherubic expression made my stomach turn.

"Do you want the honest answer?"

"Nothing but."

I let the silence drag on for a moment as we walked along, the sun finally peeking through the trees enough to warm my bones. I dropped my arm back down to my side, no longer holding on to Kyle.

"Music," I replied, simply. A small lie, but I was at least listening to music. That made it partly honest.

"Anything about music in particular?" Kyle pressed. "Or just the complex, vast theory of sound itself?" His tone dripped with sarcasm, which I'll admit, got a pretty hearty laugh out of me.

"I guess, but I can't remember," I lied again. We rounded the corner at the end of the street, turning onto the street the coffee shop was on. We had just a few more blocks to walk to get there.

"Well, okay," he sighed, redirecting. "What's your favorite song, then?"

"Oh, you can't ask that!" I exclaimed, pausing my stride to look him in the eyes. "How can I boil it down to just one song? That's cruel."

"I can tell you mine, it's easy." Kyle kicked a small rock and it skittered across the pavement, landing in the street. He definitely would have continued kicking it down the street had it not landed too far out of his way.

"Oh yeah?" I challenged. "What is it, then?"

"Just tell me one song you like, and I'll tell you," he bargained.

"You're unreal," I chuckled, continuing to walk. "I like Sweet Jane. Velvet Underground. I don't know." My replies felt really flippant coming out of my mouth, but I couldn't help it. Part of me still disliked him, or maybe, wanted to seem cool.

"Ooh," he cooed, jogging slightly to catch up to me on the sidewalk. "Sweet Jaaaaane," he sang grabbing my hand and lacing his fingers with mine.

"Ah, so you know it then," I laughed, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. Suddenly all too aware that the two of us were holding hands, I took stock. It was slightly rough but strong. His fingers were long and laced between mine like vines woven around themselves.

"I know it well," he smiled. "I love Lonesome Cowboy Bill. The Velvet Underground are so good."

"I don't think I know that one," I said, noticing that we were coming upon the coffee shop. I stopped right next to the stairs leading up to the door, effectively blocking his path. "Now you have to tell me your favorite song. Of all time. Since you can pick one."

His expression brightened. He drew his bottom lip between his teeth and smiled slightly, eyes twinkling with precious delight. "Oh! You Pretty Things. David Bowie," he grinned. My stomach lurched.

"You like David Bowie?" I asked, with a bit too much giddy excitement in my tone.

"Yes, he's only like, my favorite artist," he answered.

"We have a LOT in common," I gushed, grabbing his arm. He looked down at the small touch for a beat, then snaked an arm around my shoulder to guide me inside the shop.

We spoke about everything under the sun over the course of a few hours and a couple of coffees. I was so entranced by him that I actually let my drink get cold, rendering it undrinkable when I finally remembered its existence.

Not only did we have music tastes in common, but we also shared a lot of the same tastes in film and food. I, being less experienced in the realm of movie-watching, though, agreed to let him show me a few of his favorite films. In fact, we headed straight back to his house afterward to watch one of said movies.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous, but Kyle had proven himself trustworthy of not trying any funny business. Even still, I couldn't quiet the thoughts of him possibly thinking I was weird, or worse, that I might be falling for him.

All of those thoughts were silenced, though, when he closed the door to his room behind him. It felt different this time. I wasn't there out of pure obligation or drunken irresponsibility. This time, I wanted to be there.

"Which one did I say we were watching, again?" Kyle asked, crossing the room over to the TV, switching it on using the button on the side. He slid a small basket out of the stand and pulled out a disc binder full of movies. I flopped down onto the sofa, crossing my legs.

"Wow, you're serious about film," I laughed, kicking myself for how stupid the sentence sounded as soon as it left my mouth. "You said Catch Me If You Can, I'm pretty sure."

"Right, right," he murmured, flipping the binder open, letting the left side land on the ground with a loud thump. He thumbed through the discs, the casings making a plasticky crinkling sound as they moved. "Wait, I totally forgot about this one."

"Which one?"

"The Lost Boys. You seen it?" he asked, an excited tone creeping in.

"Yes! But I will happily watch it again, Kyle," I exclaimed. "Tis the season, right? Vampires and fall go hand in hand."

He slid the disc out of the casing and threw it in the DVD player, then crossed the room to join me on the couch. He sat close, but not too close, and used the remote to start the film. The space between us felt like a canyon. In the silence waiting for the movie to start, it was so quiet, it was hard to tell if I was alive.

The feeling came out of nowhere, knocking me in the stomach and making it hard to breathe. As if, all at once, smoke filled the room and replaced all the clean air with a stifling smog. I needed to come up for air, and the only way I figured I could was in the safety of Kyle's touch. It was a sudden and intense thirst.

I couldn't even focus on the movie. I couldn't focus on anything. I couldn't even breathe. The only movement I could rally was one of my eyes, letting them dart to the side to look at Kyle in my periphery. I had never known anything like it. Just complete paralysis at the hands of an indescribable need. A need for him and only him to simply touch me.

His hand twitched on his knee. I watched him shift out of the corner of my eye. I don't think I had taken a full breath since he sat down next to me. Then, he spoke.

"Hannah," he rasped. My name sounded so beautiful coming from his lips. I turned to face him and without delay his lips were on mine. I froze, unsure if it was real life. Unsure if he was actually kissing me. Unsure if I was actually enjoying it. But in an instant, I could breathe again. I could fill my lungs with fresh, new air that made me dizzy. I relaxed into him.

He stopped. "Wait, Hannah, is this oka-" he whispered, interrupted by my mouth reconnecting with his. My hand felt its way up to his hair, my fingers lacing tightly in his blonde curls. I slid closer to him and paused, looking him deeply in his eyes before continuing.

His breaths came out ragged and loud between kisses. Our foreheads rested together. My hand moved down from his hair to his chest. I could feel his heart positively racing beneath my palm. He snaked his arms around my waist and pulled me closer, if that was even possible. I was practically sitting in his lap. I drank in the moment so furiously I felt I might drown.

I felt like I was on fire. Like someone had set a slow and steady match beneath my center, deep in the pit of my stomach.

What the fuck are you doing? What the fuck is happening? my brain screamed, but my heart wanted more, and I wouldn't let cerebral obstacles prevent me from continuing to be that close to him.

He reached up and cupped the side of my face in his palm, deepening the kisses to something more, his tongue creeping its way inside my mouth. The warmth of the contact spread throughout my entire body, rendering me almost drunk. Kyle consumed my senses.

I pulled away. Both of us sat there, breathless, staring into each other's eyes. The movie played quietly in the background. My heart beat so hard I was sure he could hear it.

"Wow," he panted, placing a hand over mine, which was still resting on his chest. A flush crept across my cheeks. "Was that real?"

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#evan peters #evan peters fic #ahs #evan peters x reader #kyle spencer #kyle spencer x reader #kyle spencer imagine #kyle spencer fanfic #ahs coven #evan peters x female reader #evan peters oneshot

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thesherrinfordfacility · 8 days

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Just whacking this out there, but I mean, much as I do think the "past exploits" comment serves as a warning about Heaven's rules/standards, and reach, and the fact that they've exposed Aziraphale's 'crimes' - sort of a 'you know what we expect from your conduct, and you've been continually stepping way out of line, and we're choosing to overlook it for now, but know that we know, and that we will know about future missteps as well, that we don't approve and could still intervene' flung out there for no immediate particular purpose, just to serve as a reminder - by and large, I find the whole restoration offer thing much more bribe than threat, and, well, frankly, personally, I'd consider a bribe of such proportions more concerning than any threat could have been, no?

hello lovely!!!💕 i think ive shared my thoughts on this in dribs and drabs over multiple posts but no harm in going over it again, fuck it-

essentially, i completely agree with you. splitting those two parts of the conversation into two, i definitely see the first part as a warning, and simultaneously an unspoken threat:

what particularly speaks to me is how the metatron hesitates over both 'previous exploits' and 'partnership', as if he's specifically searching for the right turns of phrase. trying to make light of it, keep it friendly and unassuming. but the small, smirky, private smiles, compared to aziraphale's reaction of flitting eyes and tight lips - it feels like metatron is playing a cat-and-mouse game... the guise of it being that it's all a great opportunity, but truthfully they both recognise the unspoken threat is there

(but - to clarify - i don't think the metatron realises that aziraphale has seen it as a threat. ie the metatron thinks he's being slicker than he actually is, when aziraphale is very much able to read between the lines).

i remember making the comparison in a meta somewhere but it just simply strikes me that - if we're continuing with the 'sleeper/secret agent in the height of the cold war' allegory - the metatron is playing the part of the seedy villain that is doing the 'i've been watching you all along, i know precisely what your pressure point is and why' bit that we all know and love from any kind of dramatised espionage story.

essentially, as you said, "we could still intervene" - ie. 'dont think that i haven't seen every single thing, because i have. i know how deep this 'partnership' runs'. there doesn't even need to be an allusion to what metatron could do with this breadth of knowledge - just simply that he has the knowledge is enough, and aziraphale can draw his own horrific conclusions quite easily, even if they never come to fruition.

(on an intertextual level, metatron kinda reminds me of how i'd imagine karla to be - from the john le carré novels... a little bit, idk.)

now as for the second part; the restoration thing:

i completely agree - this absolutely feels like a bribe. 'i know crowley is your pressure point, and you'll fight tooth and nail coming back without him in tow, so im going to offer it to you - this amazing opportunity that you can graciously bestow upon him! "go tell your friend the good news!"'

the metatron may well be disguising a threat in the exchange, but i do think that he believes aziraphale to have taken the offer to return to heaven at face value, in earnest, and therefore he believes that he has aziraphale squarely under his thumb (and none the wiser for it). however, i personally think aziraphale may be constructing his own hasty game - ie. using the offer as an opportunity to "make a difference" as he and crowley would see fit... but the spanner in the works was that crowley refuses to come with him to play on 'their side' in this little counter-game he's trying to devise.

in terms of functionality of bribe vs. threat - absolutely, a bribe promises a greater yield. threats only work so long as it's a) inescapable enough, b) serious enough, and c) the threatened person is sufficiently scared enough that they won't toe out of line. which may well be effective in getting someone to comply, but the problem with making people scared of you or hate you, is that then they all secretly want to see you ruined or destroyed.

bribe someone, however... give them something that they might have always wanted (or, as i think is the case for aziraphale - gives them the opportunity to give another what they've always wanted), and you have a greater chance of having an ally in them forever, someone forever indebted to you.

i definitely think this is where the metatron's reasoning lies. instead of threatening crowley's life, so to speak, he's offering him the chance essentially to defect - and that's way more appealing to aziraphale and likely to get him to fall in line.

for me though, it's all a gross underestimation of aziraphale on the metatron's part. i will die on the hill where aziraphale sees through what the metatron is saying - has indeed read between the lines where he doesn't have a choice one way or another - but chooses to play the part that the metatron expected him to play (of marginalised-angel who is actually the-very-kind-of-angel-heaven-needs, and therefore very-grateful-to-given-the-top-job-thank-you) so that the metatron will keep underestimating him. bribe or not, aziraphale did not want to go back to heaven... but if he doesn't have much of a choice regardless, he's going to make it work for him.

now this ask has led me to another thought: i do wonder if the restoration is actually a thing? ie. the metatron wasn't bluffing, it's actually possible.

the metatron is putting an awful lot of bank on crowley saying no, when by all accounts - even if the metatron was directly involved in crowley's fall - the metatron doesn't actually know him... right? he likely knows that crowley is resentful and angry still at having fallen, and the unfairness of the whole shebang, but does that guarantee that crowley wouldn't want to take the restoration offer? id hazard no - so the metatron has to have a failsafe for either eventuality.

either crowley says no, and aziraphale is left broken-hearted/rejected, and that suits metatron fine because then he has aziraphale ridden of crowley's influence. alternatively, crowley returns, and is restored!

...but is restored to the same position as he was when he fell - essentially like restoring a backed-up file where the last save point was ~millions of~ years ago... and that would suit metatron fine also, because then crowley is simply not crowley anymore. plausible deniability on the metatron's part too, for the latter option - 'restoration has never happened before, didn't know what to expect, but you've gotten what i promised you!' idk, interesting thought

#good omens #said it in an earlier post but i'll say it again: i feel like heaven (and the metatron) are terrified of aziraphale -#what he represents and what he could do to heaven if he were so inclined)#(regardless of bribe or threat they're sufficiently scared enough that the only viable option is to secure aziraphale within heaven)#(also to add to the karla thing - ttss: “karla is not fireproof because he's a fanatic... that lack of moderation will be his downfall”)#(and in the film: “a fanatic is always concealing a secret doubt”)#feral domestic/final fifteen meta #metatron spec

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freesia-writes · 9 months

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Chapter 5: Insight

During the Clone Wars, the Bad Batch is tasked with a variety of missions across the galaxy. An unexpected addition to their team throws a wrench in the mix, particularly for Tech, who finds a particular connection with this disillusioned Padawan-turned-mechanic named Vel throughout the events in this action-adventure romance.

COVER ART BY @zaana!! And this was my first fanfic ever, y'all! :D

Master List of Chapters

Another mission, another risky departure. This time, the hyperdrive wasn't working, and as a last resort, Tech asked Vel for help. Once again, she came through, in another impossible situation. The team was amazed at her mechanical knowledge. As soon as they had a break between missions, though, they had their orders to drop her off. But she had so much knowledge. All mechanical, delivered dryly and peppered with laments about her now-useless status to both the Bounty Hunter's Guild and the Jedi Order. After much deliberation, the team asked her to stay, as a ship mechanic, until she decided where she wanted to go.

At this point, it had been long enough that she agreed, having grown accustomed to the ship's little nuances and quirks. But it came with one stipulation: she wasn't to be a prisoner anymore. She had no reason to turn against them and she was grateful for their help, though still hopelessly jaded about her future and resentful about her past.

She fashioned some makeshift quarters in the hold, still dark but better than bars and a stark cell. She had no personal items except a pouch with some credits, a basic medpack, and the multi-use weapon that Crosshair had relieved her of upon her capture, which wasn't returned to her just yet. The ship was under constant need of repair or maintenance, so she worked frequently alongside Tech, as well as the others, depending on what was needed. She was quiet and efficient, grateful for the lack of conversation when she assisted Hunter or Crosshair and chagrined at the constant questions and thoughts that accompanied any project with Wrecker.

Tech, however, was hard to discern. He spoke factually -- only when needed and immediately applicable. He did sometimes tend to explain a single topic in far too much detail, but she found it preferable to any questions or conversation directed at her, so she didn't make any effort to stop it. She found her interests piqued at his different approaches to certain processes, and they both shared an endless curiosity for the various intricacies of the galaxy.

They spoke of past missions, of their childhoods and experiences. Vel divulged bits and pieces here and there, and Tech began constructing a mental map of her story. Born on a lush forest planet, she was taken to the Jedi temple as a youngling when her Force abilities had surfaced, but throughout the Padawan training, it became painfully apparent that she was insufficient.

"Diplomatically dismissed," Vel said, rolling her eyes and waving the spanner in front of her, "Although I'd just call it what it is -- I wasn't good enough."

Tech remained silent, considering the ramifications. He was lying flat underneath a control panel, welding some rough edges while she rerouted the wires to avoid damaging them. "I went back to my dad, but he had moved to Corellia," she continued. "He tried to hide his disappointment, but it was apparent. So he thought he could make me the best mechanic in the shipyard instead. He hired me out as an apprentice to every specialist he could find. I worked during the day and studied in the evenings." "It sounds quite intensive," Tech responded, momentarily pausing from the flying sparks in front of him. "He was trying to do whatever he could to make me useful," Vel answered, her voice tight to conceal the deep pain. Tech remained silent, keeping his thoughts to himself, partially due to the emotional precision required and partially due to the discomfort of the situation. He lifted the face shield to rest atop his head, patiently awaiting any further revelation.

"Anyway," Vel continued, clearing her throat and regaining an air of carelessness, "It was never enough. I made him so much money, got him known throughout the system for ship modifications, but I made one small mistake on a Techno Union transport, and he kicked me out."

She shared the story factually, as if it meant nothing to her, but the constriction in her throat was unmistakable. "His own daughter -- imagine that," she said, returning to her work with a clenched jaw.

Tech felt deeply unsettled, not having much training on this sort of situation. He racked his brain, searching through the literature and studies he had consumed regarding human interaction and family dynamics before settling on his best attempt at encouragement: "The hardcell-class interstellar transport was a notoriously unique model, especially since it did not use conventional repulsorlifts for flight but opted for--"

"--rocket propulsion for atmospheric and stellar travel," Vel interrupted, "I know... Now."

"Ah," was his only response. He regarded her for a moment, and considered returning to his welding, but felt a compulsion to try again. He considered what she had shared, noting her body language, and decided on a different approach.

"I am sorry that your father failed to exhibit the loyalty one would traditionally expect from a birth parent," Tech said. "I would posit that it had more to do with his own ethical shortcomings than your perceived incompetence. If I had been born in the traditional human method, I would likely feel similarly disenfranchised by a lack of a secure attachment."

Vel didn't expect to laugh at this, but a chuckle burst out nonetheless. First of all, she had never expected to be sharing her aches and pains with a random clone engineer, and second of all, she had never guessed she would be comforted by a factual analysis of her developmental psychology.

She looked at him, staring solemnly right back at her without a trace of sarcasm or judgment, and couldn't help but smile. "I don't even know what to say to that," she said.

"No response needed," Tech responded matter-of-factly, pulling his face shield back down and returning to his work. Sparks began to fly again, and not just in the literal way this time, yaknowwhaddimean? ;)

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wild-karrde · 9 months

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In Command - Part 15

Master List | Previous Part | Next Part

A/N: As always, thank you to the wonderful @teletraan-meets-jarvis for beta-reading for me! You are TRULY THE BEST TJ!!

Chapter Rating: T

Warnings: canon-typical violence, graphic description of injury, language

Word Count: 6.2k words

The night breeze gently whispered in through the curtains in Senna’s office, seemingly peaceful despite the quiet chaos erupting inside.

Senna had changed into clothes meant for travel and was currently working on backing up all of the data they’d gathered, transferring files from her holocomputer onto her datapad while simultaneously breaking down any and all hardware that she could. It had shattered her heart to disassemble the comm node she’d spent so much time on for the conference, but they were operating under the assumption that their dwelling would be searched, and the comm node would only serve as a clue as to what they’d been doing on Lothal.

Exhaustion was starting to weigh her down, but the memory of Fisk’s triumphant smirk haunted her, driving her forward.

He can’t win. I can’t let him.

She was also still fuming at Rex. He’d been certain that waiting for leadership to send a pick-up was the correct move, seemingly fearful that if they ran, it’d confirm Fisk’s suspicions and give him a reason to pursue them. But every second that ticked by seemed to wind Senna more tightly. Between every breath, she could feel herself bracing for a detonator to go off outside or for a squad of stormtroopers to kick in the door. It felt as though she was in a trash compactor, and the walls were steadily closing in around them.

In order to settle her mind, she started inventorying her go-bag yet again. The first week they were on Lothal, Rex had walked her through what to pack in it, just in case they ever needed to make a hasty escape. Back then, they’d still somewhat been at odds. He’d been annoyed, thinking she wasn’t taking it seriously enough. In reality, she had thought he was being a bit paranoid this early on in their posting, but more than anything, she was teasing him for sport. A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as she tucked her favorite spanner wrench into the side of the bag.

“You’re packing too many tools. A go-bag should only be essentials.”

“A good wrench is essential, Captain. Do you have any idea how hard it is to find one that feels right in your hand? Plus this one has an extra joint that allows me to manipulate it in tight spaces and–”

“Fine. You can keep the spanner wrench. But then you can’t take your welder.”

“I’m taking the welder. And you’re more than welcome to try and stop me. But in my experience, they can also be used as weapons. So, you know, at your own risk.”

She could still hear Rex’s frustrated sigh echoing in that moment, and something in her chest clenched.

Things were so different then.

Her fingers absently traced the patch over her blaster wound on her abdomen again. She wasn’t certain if it was because Fisk had pressed into it or just the knowledge that it was what had given them away, but it had been throbbing steadily ever since they’d returned home, reminding her it was there. It made concentrating on anything for too long difficult.

Satisfied that she was as prepared as she could be, her eyes roamed over the room one more time. It looked closer to the way it had been prior to Empire Day, with parts and random hardware covering nearly every inch of the floor aside from a narrow trail she’d left clear to and from the door. Despite the night being unseasonably cool, she could feel sweat trickling down her back in between her shoulder blades, leaving an uncomfortably damp spot on the back of her shirt. She could hear Rex shuffling around downstairs, occasionally banging something closed or swearing under his breath.

He’s just as nervous as I am. Even if he’s trying to pretend he’s not.

Flexing her fingers, Senna glanced over at the holocomputer’s display. It still had a few more minutes before the back-up was complete. She searched her mental checklist for anything else she could possibly do while she waited, anything to distract her from her fraying nerves. She’d been so busy worrying about everything else, she hadn’t had much time to even dwell on the fact that each second that ticked away was depleting the amount of time she had left with Rex. Senna violently shook her head.

You can worry about that after you both get out of here alive and without being captured.

She sighed forcefully, trying to dispel the sudden tightness in her chest.

There’ll be time to grieve what you lost later.

Burying her face in her hands, Senna unleashed a shuddering breath.

Nothing to do but wait.

It had been a long time since she’d attempted to meditate, but as she continued to struggle to calm her mind, she tipped her head back and stared at the ceiling.

It’s what Master Ti would recommend, even though she knew I hated it.

That thought made the corner of her lips quirk slightly. She’d complained about meditation so much as a padawan, but her master had been patient.

“I can hear you thinking, Senna.”

She popped an eye open to sneak a glance at her master. The Togruta’s eyes were still closed, but her mouth was turned upwards in a knowing smile. Even sitting on the floor next to her padawan, Shaak Ti had an inexplicable grace about her, an elegance even in her simple Jedi robes that intimidated Senna and left her in awe.

“What are you designing this time?” Shaak Ti asked.

“Not designing. Optimizing,” Senna mumbled.

Her master chuckled. “Do you think it will not still be there when we’re done?”

“No, but I’ll maybe have a solution then, so I can fix it right away.”

Shaak Ti’s sharp, bright eyes had opened then, gazing at her padawan. “Meditation is meant to be when you commune with the Force, Senna. It’s when you connect to the living things around you.”

Senna rubbed her face in frustration. “But to me, a ship is a living thing. So is all tech, droids especially. Things that come to life in the palm of my hand. All it takes is power. The electrical kind,” she clarified.

Her master’s smile didn’t falter as she studied her padawan. “That may be, but the way you commune with those living things is very different from how we connect with the Force. Isn’t it?”

The young padawan considered it for a moment before nodding slowly. “I guess that’s true.”

“And would you also agree it’s important to connect with both forms of life if you wish to be a Jedi?”

Senna shrugged her shoulders. “I’m not as good at the other connections. With people.”

“I don’t think that’s true. You’re quite skilled at tapping into a living being’s mental state. Your gift first manifested as an extreme empathy, is that not so?”

“It is,” the young girl conceded. “But people are hard. Even if I can feel how they feel, I still don’t always understand them. I don’t always do the right things or respond the right way.” She picked at a fingernail. “Machines and tech make more sense.”

Master Ti nodded. “You do excel with tech. There is no question of that. But while all of us excel at different things, does that mean that we should back away from the things that challenge us?”

Senna huffed a sigh. “I guess not.”

The Togruta Jedi master smiled. “And since when have you ever backed down from a challenge?”

The padawan met her master’s gaze and returned her smile.

Shaak Ti’s eyes crinkled as her smile deepened.

“Now, let’s try again.”

Back on Lothal, Senna hugged her arms around herself as she basked in the memory. She missed her master. Most former padawans were still able to access their masters throughout their life, seeking additional guidance or advice when it was needed. But that was a privilege Senna and every other Jedi had been robbed of with Order 66. She would never walk with her master in the temple gardens again, would never share a cup of tea with her.

But what better way to honor her than to use what she was able to teach me?

Senna reached for the carved wooden box on her desk, exhaling slowly as her fingers traced the patterns on the outside.

It’s time.

Before she could overthink it, she undid the latch, flipping the lid open. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of her lightsaber. The memories of Kashyyyk felt as though they were looming, but she squeezed her eyes shut, banishing them to the back of her mind.

No more. Not tonight.

Her hand was trembling as she reached for the familiar hilt, and she clenched her fist to steady herself, exhaling sharply through her nose.

Not tonight.

Her fingers wrapped around the lightsaber, and she lifted it out of the box. The weight felt right in her palm, as if she’d been born to hold this weapon. In a sense, she supposed that was true. Her finger found the switch, and she clicked it on. The blade fizzled to life, casting the entire room in a sheen of light blue. The hum was so familiar and comforting, it almost made Senna cry. She released a breath she hadn't realized she’d been holding as she rotated her wrist, slowly moving the blade in a slow curve. Already, she could feel the warmth of the Force reaching out towards her tentatively, tendrils hoping to embrace her if she’d only allow them to. Closing her eyes, she reached back.

It still didn’t come easily. The static feeling was still present, and she furrowed her brows in concentration, reaching harder.

Something’s still holding you back.

Senna powered down the blade, huffing in frustration. She blew a wisp of hair out of her eyes, staring down at the hilt in her hand. In the back of her mind, she could almost hear her master’s warm chuckle once more. She laughed softly to herself.

Maybe it’s time to give some meditation a try. If nothing else, to amuse my master, wherever she is now.

Clearing a space on the floor, she sat cross-legged and placed her lightsaber on the floor in front of her, closing her eyes and trying to calm her racing mind. Gradually, she slowed her breathing and reached out once more, searching for the last remnants of the wall she’d placed between herself and the Force to see if she could disassemble it. It had been arduous to put in place a year ago, but necessary. Now, she tried not to grow impatient and frustrated as she reached out blindly.

It’s not a screw to be loosened or a panel to be removed. It’s not that simple. It wasn’t supposed to be.

The Force surrounded her, but it felt as though every time she reached towards it, it danced just out of reach.

What do you fear?

The question popped into her mind unbidden, in her own voice. Her eyes snapped open.

“Is it fear?” she asked herself softly.

Nothing in the room stirred.

What is there to fear?

It wasn’t hard to come up with a fairly extensive list with minimal thought.

Not being able to connect anymore. Not in the way I did before. It opens me up to danger. It endangers Rex.

There it is.

Senna huffed, rubbing her hands over her face.

But once we leave Lothal, you won’t have Rex. You’ll just have yourself.

And that will have to be enough.

She was tired of running from her past, tired of mourning a life she’d lost.

It’s time.

Closing her eyes again, Senna reached out once more.

Let go.

She felt the life around her, the plants, Rex continuing to move about downstairs…

Wait.

And at least two dozen beings outside of the dwelling, heartbeats accelerating with every passing second.

No.

She gasped and her eyes snapped open. Steadying her breathing, she reached out through the Force again.

Kriff.

Senna scrambled from her sitting position, creeping to the window and peeling back a sliver of curtain. Both of the Lothal moons were high in the sky, illuminating the street below. She scanned the courtyard and saw nothing out of place, but when her eyes landed beyond the outer wall of the compound, she caught the unmistakable glint of stormtrooper helmets, crouching just behind the wall, pulses hammering under plastoid.

It’s only been a few hours. We should have had more time.

She ducked back against the wall, carefully closing the window and allowing the curtain to fall back into place. Anger and frustration surged through her as she ground the heels of her palms into her eyes.

Think.

A soft chime caught her attention, and she saw that the back-up had finished on the computer.

You’ve got to move.

She disconnected her datapad with shaking hands before scrambling to snatch her commlink off of the desk.

“Rex, you there?” she whispered frantically.

“What is it?” Even through the commlink, his voice was tight. She couldn’t tell if it was annoyance or stress or something else, but right now, she didn’t have time to examine it.

Senna held the commlink to her lips as she tried to shove the datapad into her go-bag with one hand.

“Keep your voice down. Imps are outside. We’ve got to go now.”

She could practically feel the shift in his voice, the captain re-emerging to command the situation.

“How many?”

The datapad slipped from her grasp and clattered to the floor. She swore under her breath before finally managing to shove it into the main pocket of the bag, zipping it closed.

“Roughly a dozen waiting just outside the perimeter wall. I’m not sure what they’re waiting on, but they’re going to be coming any second. Fisk must have more pull than we thought. I’m done backing up and breaking down except for the computer, but we’ve got to go.”

“You got your blaster up there with you?” he asked.

She grabbed the weapon off of the floor where she’d kicked it earlier, slipping it into a holster on her hip before she swiped her lightsaber up and clipped it to her belt.

Only as a last resort.

“I’m armed. Just need to grab my jacket and I’m good.”

“Alright. Don’t forget to take the detonator when you go.”

They had rigged the house to blow in case they needed a diversion, and it had the added bonus of destroying the holocomputer Senna hadn’t had time to disassemble. It was intended to be another last resort, only drawing that much attention if there were no other options, but tonight, it felt as if any alternatives were quickly disappearing, and they’d need any advantage to get out unscathed. Senna strode over to the holocomputer, punching in a full-system wipe command. She knew she wouldn’t have time to wait and see if it completed.

Her comm crackled to life in her hand again as she carefully removed the detonator from its hiding place in her desk drawer and slipped it into her pocket. “I don’t know if they’ve got us surrounded all the way, but they’ve definitely got at least two squadrons. I see another group coming around the back corner of the house.” Rex’s voice was still steady, a comforting even tone.

“That’ll be the other dozen,” she muttered, her heart beginning to thud in her chest. “Great.”

Slipping her jacket on, she pulled her bag over her shoulders and picked her way out of the room, glancing back one more time at the place that had been her workshop for the last several months. A pang of sadness settled into her chest, and she tapped the doorframe in farewell.

Thanks for everything.

Rex’s voice on the comm interrupted her sentiments. “Is the speeder bike working?”

“Yeah, it should be good. Have they noticed it yet?” she whispered back into her comm.

“Doesn’t look like it. They’re bypassing the shed and heading straight for the back door.”

She thought for a moment. “They may not know it’s ours since it's detached. If you come up here, we should be able to climb out my bedroom window, and maybe sneak across the roof and drop down by the shed. The roof slants towards the street, so if we stay low enough, we might be able to get over there without being seen.”

He didn’t argue with her this time. “Alright, be right there.”

Senna made her way down the hall on tiptoe, patting her pockets and belt one last time to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything.

Blaster. Lightsaber. Datapad.

A few seconds later, Rex materialized at her bedroom door, handing her his pack to hold while he pulled his cloak on. She searched his eyes and found the same urgency she felt reflected back at her, but there was also an assuredness that brought her comfort. Rex knew what he was doing, and he was going to execute everything as precisely as he could. It reassured her slightly.

No wonder he got a command so fast.

Quickly and quietly, they snuck through her bedroom, trying their best to not even allow a floorboard to creak. Their breathing sounded incredibly loud, only drowned out by the sound of Senna’s blood pounding in her ears. Rex crouched by the window, peeking out carefully, and she quietly followed suit, bracing one hand on his back as she peered over his shoulder. He stiffened, but didn’t say anything.

From their vantage point, they could see the second squad of stormtroopers sneaking into the back yard, blasters trained on the rear entrance of the dwelling.

“No Fisk,” she whispered into Rex’s ear.

“Did you see him out front?”

“No.”

“Doesn’t mean he’s not here. Keep your head on a swivel.”

Senna nodded, swallowing hard. Rex turned, and she flushed with embarrassment at the realization that he must have heard her nervous gulp, but he reached back, gripping her knee and giving it a squeeze.

“We’re going to be fine,” he whispered. “Just keep your trigger finger tight and stay close.” He met her eyes and gave her a tight smile. Senna grabbed his hand, squeezing it back.

“Will do.”

He paused. “Also, you were right. I’m sorry.”

She stared at him for a moment before breaking into a stifled snicker. “I’ll be sure to gloat at a more appropriate time.”

He huffed.

Senna patted his shoulder gently. “Even I didn’t think they’d get here this fast, Rex. We’d be in the same spot either way.”

She wasn’t sure if her words comforted him at all, but he gave her a stiff nod.

Carefully, Rex eased the window open that led onto the roof. The cool night air tickled Senna’s cheeks, and she shivered involuntarily. Neither squadron had entered the dwelling yet, and briefly, Senna wondered what they were waiting for.

It doesn’t matter. Just get moving.

Rex pulled himself onto the roof, crouching low and reaching a hand back to Senna to help her out. The tiles were uneven and slippery, and it took another painstaking moment for Senna’s boot to find purchase. She reached back to close the window, but Rex gripped her arm, shaking his head.

Leave it, he mouthed.

She nodded, and the two of them flattened themselves against the roof. The tiles dug into Senna’s knees, hips, and elbows with a biting cold, but she ignored it, following Rex’s lead as he slowly began crawling forward towards the outer wall. Every clink of the tile or shuffle of their clothes sent adrenaline dumping into Senna’s system, making her even more certain they were about to be discovered.

About halfway across the roof, they heard the blast of a detonator as the doors of their dwelling were breached. A few seconds later, the sound of shouting filled the house.

Rex pushed himself to his feet, reaching down to pull Senna up as well. “Better hurry,” he whispered. They ducked low, picking their way across the treacherous tiles as quickly as they could.

Suddenly, blaster fire erupted from the window behind them. A bolt whizzed close enough by Senna’s face that she could feel the heat from it.

“There they are! Blast them!”

Rex swung around, pushing Senna behind him as he raised his blaster. She fumbled for the gun at her hip just as Rex’s foot slipped, and Senna heard him grunt as he lost his balance. She gripped his waist, trying to steady him, and his fingers locked around her forearm. He had just barely regained his footing when a stormtrooper ducked through the window and took aim at him. Time slowed down as Senna watched two bolts erupt from the muzzle of the E-11, one striking Rex in his right knee, and the other grazing his thigh. He shouted a curse and shuddered against her, his returning fire wildly peppering the wall of the house near the window as he fell, slipping out of her grasp. His forehead made contact with the hard tiles with a sickening crack. A scream caught in Senna’s throat as Rex slid towards the edge of the roof.

No.

Her heart felt like it stopped beating as she flung her hand out instinctively.

Please no.

The warmth rushed through her veins, just as it had when she’d confronted Fisk, just as it had for her entire life until a year ago. Time slowed as Rex clawed at the tiles, trying to find purchase. His eyes met hers as his waist slid over the edge.

“HANG ON!”

Her blood sang, and she gasped, but she had him, she could feel it, could feel him.

Another blaster bolt flew by her head, and she ducked enough for it to miss, leaving the smell of singed hair in its wake. She focused on keeping hold of Rex as she reholstered her blaster, instead pulling her lightsaber from her belt. Her thumb grazed the power button, and the saber hummed to life in her hand.

“SHE’S THE JEDI!”

Yes I fucking am.

Senna wrenched her arm with all of her might, pulling Rex back up and onto the roof as much as she could. Her senses tingled, and she raised her lightsaber in time to block a blaster bolt aimed at her chest. She snarled at the stormtroopers as she threw the hand holding her lightsaber forward, pushing two of the troopers that had made it out the window off of the roof. Her arms shook as she kept her hold on Rex, pulling him closer in between deflecting blaster fire. Her fighting form was sloppy, and she knew it, but survival trumped technique in the moment. Senna’s saber hummed as she cut a wide arc, sending at least one bolt back through the window. She jerked Rex towards her again, and this time, she felt him land at her feet.

Another blaster bolt erupted from near her ankles, and Senna allowed herself a quick glance down. Even in his current state, Rex had his blaster raised and was returning fire, blinking blood from the cut on his forehead out of his eyes.

“Can you stand?” she shouted over the din.

“Maybe.” His teeth were clenched, and she could see a vein throbbing at his temple. She’d never seen Rex hurt before, and it made anger thrum through her. She banished the urge to embrace that rage, that hatred, instead reaching down towards him.“Grab my belt and haul yourself up! We’ve got to go!” she yelled.

Rex clasped her hand, squeezing it lightly even now. He cursed loudly as he dragged himself to a standing position, wrapping one arm around her shoulders to support himself. Senna slid her free hand around his waist, slipping her fingers under his belt to hold him up.

“BACK UP.”

She began pushing him towards the edge of the roof, continuing to deflect blaster fire while Rex managed to pick off at least two assailants with his DL-44. The stormtroopers were pouring out into the yard now, having realized their targets were already outside.

“How many did he fucking bring?” Senna muttered under her breath, sweat trickling from her brow as her muscles and joints screamed in protest under Rex’s weight and the strain of keeping her balance on the roof.

“Dunno, but I can take out a few more,” Rex gritted out. Quickly, he reholstered his weapon and reached into a pouch at his side, grabbing a thermal detonator and flinging it down into the yard. The blast sent the half dozen stormtroopers that had gathered flying, their screams cutting through the night as smoke filled the air.

Senna was gasping for breath as she held Rex up, trying to tread carefully on foot placement as they backed towards the edge of the roof. The smoke had obscured them from view from the troopers in the yard, but that didn’t stop them from firing wildly at where they thought their two fugitives might be.

Just a little further.

As they reached the edge of the roof, the narrow gap between the wall and the shed stretched out below them. Senna glanced down, trying not to think about how far the fall was. Rex’s eyes met hers.

“Sorry about this,” she gasped.

Without giving herself another moment to think about it, she tipped backwards and pulled Rex off of the roof with her. She heard him inhale sharply, and briefly, she felt wild laughter bubbling up in her at his surprise.

He’s going to kill me later. If there is a later.

Deactivating her lightsaber in the air, Senna tried as hard as she could to push away from the ground with the Force to cushion their landing. They still wound up in a heap, but at least not any more injured from what she could tell. Rex was groaning and swearing.

“Why don’t you ever just ask me to karking jump?”

Clipping her saber back onto her belt, Senna ignored his muttering and grabbed him under his arms, roughly dragging him towards the entrance to the shed. The stormtroopers were already running into the alley, shouting at them to stop.

Just keep surviving one more minute, Senna thought to herself. If you do that enough times, you might live to see another day.

Once she and Rex were both inside the shed, Senna slammed the door shut behind them, locking it and busting the control panel with her fist to keep it sealed for a few moments. She helped Rex onto the speeder bike, settling herself in front of him to drive. He wrapped an arm around her waist, and she reached down, resting her hand against his forearm. They paused for a moment, the only sounds the two of them catching their breath in the deafening silence of the shed.

“Got your blaster out?” Senna asked.

“Yup,” he grunted into her ear.

Stormtroopers pounded on the door they’d just come through, shouting commands that all blended together into an indecipherable cacophony.

“Alright, let’s see if we can get through this,” Senna whispered, trying to hide the tremor in her hands.

“Another tall order,” Rex said through clenched teeth.

“That’s unfortunately becoming a trend with us,” she muttered.

“This one’s the tallest.”

She hummed in agreement, unsure of how else to respond. She could hear the sadness in Rex’s voice, and her chest clenched as she realized he was implying there was a chance these were their last moments together. They could already hear the stormtroopers lining up in front of the main door outside, ready to capture or kill them.

How silly all of this is, Senna thought. All of that pushback and wanting to keep him safe, and now here we are. About to die together. And I never–

“You’re surrounded! Come out with your hands in the air!” A smug voice rang out through the door, muffled but still painfully recognizable. Senna’s lip curled reflexively.

Fisk.

The anger in her shifted to helpless disappointment.

He’s going to win.

Her mind raced, but no better alternative to their current predicament presented itself. Senna felt her breath catch in her throat, and she fought the urge to scream in frustration.

This might be it.

She turned around and looked at Rex. There was a pinch between his brows, and his eyes were sad. Even with the blood and dirt smeared across his face, his eyes still burned fiercely as they found hers in the dark. Her heart fluttered.

You never told him.

But to tell him now that she loved him, to tell him all of the things she’d been withholding felt like a concession, like she’d accepted that they were going to be captured or killed. And that wasn’t something Senna was ready to do. Instead, she grabbed Rex by the back of the head and urgently pressed her lips to his. She felt him stiffen at first with surprise before relaxing into the kiss, reaching his fingers up to touch the side of her face with the same gentleness she’d come to know as inherently him. The same gentleness she’d fallen in love with. Her eyes burned as she stifled the sob welling up within her.

She wanted to stay there forever, pretending it was just the two of them, but time was short. The odds were stacked against them in almost every way, but she was too stubborn to give up yet.

“And since when have you ever backed down from a challenge?” her master’s voice echoed in her mind.

She pulled herself away from the kiss, resting her forehead against Rex’s for another heartbeat.

“Just in case,” she whispered.

“Sure,” he agreed, the corners of his mouth tugging into a smile. “But we’re going to talk about this later.”

She allowed herself a small smile before turning back around.

“So, I assume you’ve got at least one bad idea,” he said quietly. “You always have one of those.”

“One bad idea is better than no ideas,” Senna countered. Reaching down, she started the bike. “Got any smoke grenades?”

“Don’t I always?” he joked, grimacing as he reached into his supply pouch again and pulled two explosives back out.

“Alright, as soon as the door opens, toss them under. Maybe that’ll obscure us enough to get through the welcome committee waiting for us.”

“You want a distraction?” he asked. “Why not use the detonator?”

She’d almost completely forgotten about the small remote in her pocket, but adding it to her idea seemingly upgraded it to at least ‘half-baked plan’ status in her mind.

“You’re absolutely right,” she laughed, pulling the detonator from her pocket. “Alright, big explosion, smoke bombs under the door, drive like a mynock out of hell, and shoot back when they shoot. Any questions?”

Rex chuckled quietly, and the rumble against her warmed her from the inside out. “None from me.”

She took one last deep breath. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

She armed the detonator and pressed the button. The entire shed shuddered and a bright flash briefly illuminated the inside of it as their entire dwelling exploded, completely destroying the place they’d called home for the last few months. Hearing shouts of confusion outside, Senna reached out with the Force to press the button that opened the shed’s main door. The door began sliding up with a groan, and Rex quickly tossed the grenades underneath as soon as the gap was large enough.

Here we go.

The world around them erupted in blaster fire and smoke as the door slid up. Senna gunned the engine, and as soon as the door was high enough for them to duck under, they rocketed forward. A blaster bolt grazed her left shoulder as they shot out into the chaos, but she ignored it, grabbing her lightsaber and reigniting it again to deflect and blindly cut through as much as she could. There were shouts and screams as Rex’s blaster rang in her ear, the grip around her waist tightening as he whipped the weapon back and forth to cover a wide area with fire.

Senna felt her heart pounding so hard she thought it would burst through her chest as they tore through the squadron of stormtroopers, running into one head-on with the bike. She heard the sickening thud and grunt as his body hit the front panel and dropped to the ground, leaving a scuff of white plastoid and blood on the bike’s paneling.

Just survive another minute.

It felt like an eternity, but it was a fraction of a second before they burst out of the smoke, the blaster fire continuing to chase them as they sped away. She didn’t even have time to look over her shoulder at the smoldering wreckage that had once been their dwelling.

“Atta girl,” Rex shouted in her ear.

Her heart soared.

Senna tucked her lightsaber back onto her belt as she heard the whine of speeder bikes fire up behind them. Rex turned and shot backwards into the fray.

“Are we being chased?” she shouted.

“Yup, got three bikes in pursuit,” he confirmed.

Kriff.

“Alright, let’s see if we can make it out of town and lose them in the grasslands.”

Senna wove in and out of the city’s streets, the bolts from their pursuers peppering the buildings and the ground around them. She felt the heat of one that got especially close to her shoulder as it winged by and slammed into a wall ahead of them.

Kriffing transport-grade weaponry. Those pack a punch.

Suddenly, she turned left and saw the edge of the township, the streets and buildings giving way to unpaved grassland. The yellowing grass stood high enough in some places to where they would be able to be hidden from view.

If we can just make it that far. We’re so close.

She heard an explosion behind them and saw the buildings around them briefly illuminate as Rex whooped loudly.

“Still got all three?” she yelled.

“No, I managed to hit one,” he replied with a tone that could only be described as cheerful. It made Senna smile. “Now we’re just down to the last–“

Rex gasped suddenly, and his body shuddered against her before she felt him go limp. His weapon flew from his hand and clattered against the pavement as they sped onwards.

“REX!” Senna screamed, feeling his grip around her waist loosen. She frantically grabbed his arm to hold him to her while she steered.

“REX PLEASE ANSWER ME!”

Her pleas were met with silence.

No. No. No. No.

She inhaled sharply.

Think. He needs you to think right now.

Rex had been their rear defense, but now the Imperials were free to shoot at them unhindered. He’d undoubtedly take another blast if she didn’t stop them, or they’d hit the bike, and everything would go to hell from there.

No.

Senna swung the bike around so that it was facing their assailants, slamming on the brakes. As gently as she could, she eased Rex forward so that he was slumped over the handlebars, and then she leapt from the bike, igniting her lightsaber in the air.

The first stormtrooper had no time to react as she came down on his speeder, cleanly slicing it and him in two. The second one was further back and had time to respond, firing at her as she charged forward. She deflected blast after blast with ease, her eyes burning and her saber humming in her hand. She felt the anger and hatred seep into her veins, the cold trickle in her blood that she’d felt on Empire Day, and in that moment, did not fight it.

I’ve come this far. They’re not taking one more person from me.

“COME ON!” she screamed at the approaching trooper. “COME AND GET ME!”

She was running straight at the approaching bike now, her hair flying wildly behind her. If the trooper was concerned about a Jedi running full-speed at him, he didn’t show it, hunkering down further behind his handlebars.

Senna seethed.

Fuck you.

Just as the bike was about to hit her, Senna dropped to her knees, sliding along the pavement. The cobblestones tore at her knees through the fabric of her leggings, leaving her with torn skin and bloodied bruises that she hardly registered. She held her lightsaber skyward, neatly slicing the bike in half along its length. The halves flew over her, searing her cheek as she turned her head and pressed herself against the ground. The bike’s pieces clattered loudly against the street, and the mangled body of the stormtrooper rolled away from her. For just one second, she allowed herself to sink against the pavement, trying to catch her breath before a voice in the back of her mind started screaming.

RUN!

Quickly, Senna stood, ignoring the stinging and warmth of her bloodied knees as she listened for more bikes. She could hear them in the distance, but she and Rex would be long gone by the time their pursuers reached this spot.

Senna ran back to her speeder bike. She wanted to check Rex fully, but there was no time. She pushed his body forward so that she would be able to steer, albeit clumsily, and hopped on behind him, caging him in with her arms to hold him in place. Gunning the engine, she reached out with the Force, searching for Rex in it. She breathed a sigh of relief as she felt him, still there.

But fading fast.

“Please hang on, Rex,” she whispered as she turned the bike towards the grass and sped off into the night.

Tag List: @seriowan @partoftheeternalsoul @rosmariner @misogirl828 @ellichonkasaurusrex @zoeykallus @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @gjrain20-starwars @staycalmandhugaclone @redheadgirl @fordo-kixed-rex @wizardofrozz @ariadnes-red-thread @justanothersadperson93 @leftealeaf @kaminocasey @echos-girlfriend @lucyysthings @obihiddlenox @merkitty49 @littlemissmanga @clonecyaree @baba-fett @sleepingsun501 @rexxdjarin @samspenandsword @babygirlrex0504 @ladytano420 @fxlsealarm @runforrestr @djarrex @corrieguards @the-cantina @witchklng @wolffegirlsunite @fives-lover @rain-on-kamino @ladykatakuri @ladykagewaki @arctrooper69 @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall

#karrde writes #in command #the clone wars #tcw #captain rex #captain rex x oc #captain rex x ofc #captain rex x original female character #OC Senna Aven #Jedi OC #slow burn #friends to lovers #whump #idiots in love #angst

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punkbxt · 11 months

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after seven exits her outer borg mechanisms theyre left with a body thats highly inorganic

seven keeps it relatively simple and original to how she left the borg with the exception of some android replacements and mods over time for whatever reason they may be necessary

arm details at the end of the post and a lil story below!

<<¿como se siente?>>

the question is so unexpected that it takes seven a moment to reply.

they were sitting on some stools at a side table that tuvok and chakotay had installed in the medbay. it wasnt uncommon to have a small droid maintenance station on a medbay in maquis ships so they figured it would only be a matter of time till it was needed.

b’elanna had been the one assigned to assist the emh. he had long gone back to doing his own thing and all that was left was sevens more mechanical parts which left the two alone.

“what does what feel like?”

b’elanna forgot she left half the sentence in her mind. she had been contemplating it the entire time she had been repairing sevens prosthetic arm.

“ay perdón. what does it feel like being touched on your synth skin? can you feel my touch even though your forearm isnt attached to you?”

a pause from seven.

b’elanna shifted in her seat and put the small dermal regenerator on the table. she was almost finished but suddenly felt shy at bringing up something so personal. “you dont have to answer if you dont want to of course-“

“it depends on what is being touched,” seven replied as she wiggled the fingers of her unattached arm, “and yes, i can feel your touch.”

the solitary forearm still having capacity of movement freaked b’elanna out just a bit. borg technology was a wonder and a horror to behold.

“what do you mean by depends?” b’elanna looked at her toolkit, examining the spanner she had used to losen seven’s elbow.

“the skin around my eye was grafted from a de- donor and the skin on the arm youre repairing is made up of tiny hexagonal shaped silicone cells.”

“amazing”

“indeed”

b’elanna picked up a screwdriver and proceeded put the metal panel back where it belinged “does it feel different from real skin?”

“supposedly almost imperceptibly so.”

b’elanna brought the joints back together and with sevens help latched seven’s forearm back into place. she then grabbed the spanner to tighten the safety in place and looked at it carefully and back at sevens arm.

“will this hurt?” b’elanna’s curiosity amused seven.

“only if you do it too tight.”

“really??”

seven laughed. huh. that was a first.

“no. the metal bits take a bit more than a tight screw to feel pain.”

b’elanna finished but stood in place at sevens side with no intention of uncradling sevens hand.

“how does this feel?” b’elanna said it ever so softly that seven almost didnt catch it.

the touch felt tingly in a way it never had to seven before. her breath hitched (as she frantically ran a minor nerve diagnostic which ran merely a fraction of a second) ever so briefly that b’elanna didnt notice. nothing was wrong. but it was new and just a litle but scary.

“it feels… electric…”

“is that bad?”

“for me? no.”

the medbay scanned seven and beeped with confirmation that <<the patient is ready for release>> startling the two out of the moment.

b’elanna stepped back and gathered her supplies together. “bueno um- if you encounter any more bichos let me know. ill help ya out” she said as she twirled the dermal regenerator she was about to take and tucked it into her coat pocket.

“thankyou for your assistance, doctor torres.”

b’elanna snorted, “youre funny. i like it. see u around.”

#if any of my math it wrong i dont care!#i wish i could draw more details thsn that rn 😭#seven of nine #borg #redesign #star trek #voyager #star trek voyager

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thighholsterdean · 5 months

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Do you guys ever think about "You know what every other version of you did after "gripping him tight and raising him from Perdition?" They did what they were told. But not you. Not the one off the line with a crack in his chassis." and "You know, ever since we met, ever since I pulled you out of Hell... knowing you has changed me. Because you cared, I cared. I cared about you. I cared about Sam, I cared about Jack... I cared about the whole world because of you." and "You're the famous spanner in the works. Honestly, I think you came off the line with a crack in your chassis. You have never done what you were told; not completely. You don't even die right, do you?" and "Too much heart was always Castiel's Problem." like...do you ever??? Because I fucking do.

#cas #spn #castiel #he's so full of love

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chaosmagicss · 2 years

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love in the dark (wanda maximoff x reader)

synopsis: your plan is simple; get through your senior year and make it to college with minimal fuss. what you aren't expecting is the spanner in the works that is wanda maximoff and her stupidly kissable lips.

series warnings: high school au (everyone is 18), secret relationship, jealousy, allusions to and brief mentions of smut, fluff, angst

chapter warnings: there’s fluff if you really really squint, but it’s mostly just angst, allusions to internalised homophobia, pain and more pain

words: 4.1k

a/n: sorry for the suuuper late upload, i return to you all with angst bc we definitely need more of that after MoM. you’re welcome <3

part one | part two | part three | part five

From the moment you wake up, your chest feels tight with anxiety. Wanda sends you a text around midday to say she’ll be over at five, and as you’re doing the groceries, it’s the only thing on your mind. By the time you’ve set everything up, blankets and pillows strewn across the couch and snacks on the table, you’re practically thrumming in your seat, watching the hands on the clock tick by. When the bell rings at 5:00 exactly, your heart almost leaps right out of your chest.

You time your steps as you approach the front door as to not seem too eager, and when you open it, Wanda straightens her posture, shoulders squaring a little. For a long moment, the two of you just look at each other; a million different feelings bubble up inside you, all of them contradicting the other, and you don’t know which of them to act on.

Wanda gives you a tight-lipped smile, spinning the rings on her fingers. “Hi,” she says after a moment.

You blink, take a breath. “Hey. Come in.”

She nods, curtly, and as she steps past you, you almost want to cry. Your fingers are itching to reach for her, to just bundle her up and hold her until the bad feelings go away. It’s strange and overwhelming and you hate it.

Wanda doesn’t waste any time. She immediately moves into your kitchen, pulling out the pots and pans required. Silently, you set up some music, and Wanda glances up at you as the soft music fills the space. Her eyes only catch yours for half a moment before she looks away again, clearing her throat as she starts work on the sauce.

You swallow hard. “You, uh, want help?”

Wanda blinks, shooting you a tight-lipped smile. “No, that’s alright,” she says quietly. You nod, ducking your head, and there’s a beat of silence before Wanda adds, “Wouldn’t want you burning down the house.”

You huff. “Ha-ha. Very funny.”

She looks at you again, and when she smiles, the weight on your chest alleviates just the slightest. It’s still guarded and a little awkward, but it’s real. The next hour consists of minimal talking - Wanda asks you to grab things as she stirs the pasta sauce, and as you move around the kitchen, wordlessly doing as you’re told, you’re painfully aware of the effort being made not to touch one another.

You sit in the living room to eat, silently watching the episode of FRIENDS that you’re up to - Wanda’s love of sitcoms has been forced upon you, though you’d never admit that you’ve taken a liking to them if she’d asked. When you’ve both finished, you offer quietly to take the plates. Wanda nods, shifts as if to kiss you on the cheek, but catches herself at the last moment. An awkward moment passes, where Wanda blinks up at you before clearing her throat and muttering a small, “Sorry.”

Something strange stabs at your chest. You lick your lip, shaking your head dismissively. “It’s okay,” you whisper, giving her a strained smile. “‘S okay.” You lean over to kiss the top of her head, and Wanda’s breath hitches, but you don’t have the bravery to look at her as you turn to head towards the kitchen.

You give yourself a moment after you’ve rinsed the plates and stacked them into the dishwasher, leaning against the bench with a soft sigh. Once your heart is no longer beating uncomfortably hard inside your chest, you make your way back into the living room. Wanda is waiting cross legged on the couch, a pillow on her lap. She looks up at you as you take a seat beside her, watches as you turn to lean back against the arm of the couch. She turns on the movie - The Lion King - and for the first 10 minutes, the two of you sit in silence.

But then, Wanda takes a sharp breath and moves.

When she lays on top of you, there’s a split second when you go still. But then she settles, her body weight resting entirely on yours, and the relief that fills your body is almost tangible. Wanda sighs when you do, your arms wrapping around her almost instinctively as you nuzzle into her hair, inhaling the scent of her shampoo.

“I’m sorry,” she starts to murmur, lips pressing to your skin. Your eyes flutter shut at the feeling, as her lips trail further up your throat, kissing your skin soft and slow and in a way that’s not at all sexual. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

You shake your head. “It’s okay,” you say softly, “it’s not your fault.”

She pushes up enough to look down at you, and you swallow thickly, reaching up to tuck loose strands of hair behind her ears, brushing against her skin. She bites a little into her lip, eyes darting over your face, but before she can speak, you strain up to kiss her on the mouth. She sighs against you at the soft touch, sinking further into you and following your lead when you lean back into the couch. You roll onto your side, ever so cautious, with Wanda still in your arms. She never once breaks the kiss, letting you kiss her slowly, her leg now hooked over your own. You break apart slowly, not wanting to break the serenity of the moment, kissing her cheeks and forehead when you find yourself needing to breathe.

You kiss the tip of her nose before drawing back to look at her, and as her pretty eyes flutter open, the words almost leap right out of you: I love you.

You blink, swallow hard, and thank whoever’s up there that Wanda isn’t a mindreader.

For a few moments, you just look at each other. Then, ever so gently, Wanda’s fingers move from where they’re curled into the front of your shirt to stroke tenderly at your jaw.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “It’s not fair that I’m so upset.”

“Yes, it is,” she murmurs. “It’s completely fair. I can’t imagine how it feels.”

“I just… I hate seeing him all over you. I guess I’m jealous.”

Wanda bites into her lip, fingers stroking over your jaw, her big green eyes so full of empathy that it makes your chest ache. “You have no reason to be,” she whispers. “I don’t want him. I need you to know that. I want you. Just you.”

You nod, watching her face even as her eyes drop from yours, instead shifting to watch as her fingers trail along your jaw.

“It’s just… sometimes, there’s the voice that… that tells me how I feel about you is… wrong. And I know it’s not, but just… it gets so loud sometimes. When I’m with you, I can ignore it, but when I’m not, it's just…” She closes her eyes, and your heart cracks when a tear slips out and runs down the bridge of her nose. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you murmur, pressing your lips to her forehead. Wanda exhales shakily, wrapping her arm around your waist. “Thank you for being honest with me.”

She nods, sniffles, and then tips her head up to kiss you. “You’re not angry with me?” she asks, lips brushing against yours. You shake your head ever so slightly, kissing her again.

“No,” you mumble.

She pulls back just enough to look at you, chewing anxiously on her bottom lip. You can tell her brain is working at a hundred miles a minute, eyes on your face as her hand brushes feather-light against your back where she’s slipped her hand under your shirt. You swallow dryly, shifting your hand to brush her hair away from her cheek. Wanda’s eyes flutter at the gentle contact.

“Are you angry with me?” you ask after a moment.

She hums a negative. “No,” she whispers, “never.” You swallow hard, hand resting against her jaw, and Wanda turns her face to press a kiss to the heel of your hand, her eyes shut. “You’re so good to me. I don’t deserve you.”

You frown, rub your thumb over her skin. “Hey.” Her eyes open, big and sad, and you just want to bundle her up and never let her go. “You deserve everything good this stupid world has to offer. Everything. You’re perfect, Wanda.”

Wanda licks her bottom lip, and for a moment, it looks like she’s going to say something. But then she blinks, a hundred little emotions flicking over her face that you can’t quite decipher, and pushes forward, burrowing her face against you. Her arm tightens around your waist, and you hold her closer, too.

“Are we okay?” she asks, voice muffled by your shirt.

You nod, press a kiss to the top of her head. “Yeah,” you whisper, “we’re okay.”

Wanda sighs, body relaxing against yours, and you never want to leave this couch.

The first red flag comes in the form of Wanda’s distant, dry texts.

You messaged her about the dinner on Sunday night, a lighthearted thing meant to try and lift her predictably low mood after interacting with Jarvis and the Starks - she always felt down after talks about her and Jarvis’ future, no doubt the subject of the dinner. Usually, you received some flurry of texts, things like Oh my god I wanted to crawl into a hole and die or I wish you were there, would’ve been more bearable or I almost strangled someone. Or even a phone call the moment she was tucked away in her room for the night.

But on Sunday, you got a Haha yeah, it sucked, and no follow up phone call. Obviously, this prompted an are you okay? text, to which Wanda had responded with Yeah, just tired. Gonna go to bed. Gn, see you tomorrow <3

It had taken you almost two hours to fall asleep after that, your brain refusing to quieten down long enough to find a moment of peace.

The texts continued like that throughout the week - she had moments where she seemed like her usual high-energy self, like during your shared study period on Wednesday where she dragged you into the bathroom and kissed you a little too passionately for 12:30pm on school grounds. Or the phone call you’d received that night, where you chatted mindlessly until Wanda fell asleep.

But by the next day, she was back to pretending you didn’t exist, and you knew something was wrong. You tried texting throughout that morning, something about how boring your class was, but were always met with dry responses, so eventually, you just gave up. You tried and failed numerous times to build up the courage to confront her about it, even with Carol becoming increasingly agitated on your behalf, offering (threatening) to go talk to her for you multiple times, each with escalating levels of frustration. But you convinced her otherwise every time, saying you were fine, it was fine. She was probably just stressed about college - it was around now she’d have to make the decision to either go to England with Jarvis or stay and study in New York. It was a bump. Every relationship had bumps.

“But you’re her girlfriend,” Carol argues in the cafeteria, when Val has disappeared to smack Thor upside the head, for whatever reason, “you should be a part of that conversation.”

You shrug, take a bite of your apple and risk a glance towards her. And, okay, maybe saying that it felt like you had been stabbed was a bit hyperbolic, but it really did feel that way. She’s sitting with her chin propped up on her hand, Jarvis’ arm around her, his hand stroking over her side as everyone laughs at something Sam is doing. She doesn’t even look against the touch; she’s leaning into him, smiling a little whenever he says something to her.

“Dude,” you hear Carol say.

Suddenly, Wanda’s eyes find yours. Her face shifts, then, in a way you don’t really understand. And honestly, you don’t care to. You tear your eyes away, all too aware of the familiar sting in them, and can’t quite manage to look Carol in the face.

You clear your throat. “I’m gonna - gonna go get some air, I’ll…”

“Y/N–”

You push to stand, chair screeching a little against the floor, and don’t look back in Wanda’s direction as you head towards the exit of the cafeteria. You find an empty classroom, and sit against a desk, pressing your hands to your face. You take a few deep breaths, and slowly, the tears subside. Once you’re sure you aren’t going to have an untimely breakdown, you huff a laugh at yourself, shaking your head.

“Fuckin’ loser,” you mutter, and then the door opens.

Wanda looks pensive as she quietly closes the door behind her, watching you as if she’s approaching a wild animal. You clear your throat, standing up straight. For whatever reason, you don’t want her to know that something’s wrong. It’ll ruin everything, maybe, if you can’t pretend everything is fine until this bump eventually smooths out.

“Hi.”

She takes a beat, and then, “Hi. Are you alright?”

You nod. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

She twists her lips, fingers twisted together in front of her. “I saw you, uh, leave the cafeteria,” she says softly. “You looked… upset.”

You shrug. “I’m not,” you say. “I’m okay. It just got a little loud in there, is all. I feel fine now.”

She doesn’t look entirely convinced, but is also unsure of what to do. You give her a tiny smile. Wanda bites into her lip, wrestles over her words for a moment, until she lets out a heavy sigh.

“Do you wanna… do you wanna come over, this afternoon?” And, alright, that isn’t what you expected. “Pietro and mama are going to the mall to buy him a suit. It’ll take a while. So, y’know.” You nod. Wanda takes a breath. “You don’t have to. I just… miss you.”

You clench your jaw to fight off the urge to snark, looking away from her. After a steadying breath, you nod. “Yeah, sure. What time?

She looks a little surprised. “Um. 4:00?”

You nod, give her another small smile and step towards her. “Okay,” you say softly, “I’ll see you at 4.”

Wanda nods, breath hitching when you lean in to press a soft kiss to her cheek. Her hand catches the front of your shirt, keeping you close when you try to step around her. She tilts her face, lips brushing against your own. Idly, you’re aware of the fact that anyone passing by could see into the classroom. But at the same time, you really don’t care. Wanda’s hands find your jaw, and she turns her body to face you properly, and the kiss she presses to your lips is tentative, slow.

Your heart skips inside your chest, the rest of the world disappearing in an instant, as you lift your hands to her waist and pull her closer as the kiss starts to pick up pace. You nip at her lip, smiling at the small gasp that escapes her, but before you can deepen the kiss, the bell rings out.

She groans quietly, leaning her forehead to yours, and it makes you laugh. You reach up to grab her wrists, lean in to press a chaste kiss to the corner of her mouth. “I’ll see you later,” you murmur. Wanda nods, and you drop her hands as she steps back.

As she reaches the door, “Give it a few minutes before you follow me out.”

The heaviness on your heart returns with a vengeance, good spirits stomped out in an instant. You can’t keep the bitterness out of your tone. “Yeah, I know the drill.”

Wanda hovers for a moment, clearly taken aback by your tone. But then she takes a breath, manages a smile. “See you later.”

“See you.”

With that, she slips out into the corridor.

You should’ve said no.

That’s all you can think as you knock on Wanda’s door. You should have stayed home and let yourself sulk. Instead, your chest is tight with an emotion you don’t really understand and Wanda looks so pretty in her comfy clothes but she’s practically thrumming with anxiety from where she’s sat against the headboard, trying to pretend she’s reading. She hasn’t turned a page in almost ten minutes.

You lift your head when you feel eyes on you, and Wanda immediately looks back down. You sigh softly, turn back to your notes. “You gonna tell me what’s bothering you?”

There’s a few moments of long, heavy silence, and for a second there, you honestly think Wanda’s just going to pretend you didn’t say anything. But then, the book closes, and her voice fills the space between you.

“Jarvis asked me to prom.”

You tighten your jaw, tearing your eyes away from your book to look back at Wanda. She swallows hard as you lock eyes, fidgeting with the rings adorning her fingers, and she just looks so guilty. Your heart sinks into your stomach.

It’s not like you didn’t at least suspect it. There had been whispers all week, and Wanda had been strangely distant - or, at least, more so than usual - during school. Jarvis’ sudden increase of PDA had also been a big, flashing sign, but a part of you had just hoped it was something else. You could tell Carol had been thinking the same thing, but she’d had the mind not to mention it, as if saying it out loud would make it true.

Turns out, whether or not she said it didn’t matter.

“What’d you say?” you ask, even if you already know the answer.

Wanda swallows hard, looks down at her hands, curling and uncurling them twice. “I… I had to say yes, Y/N, you know that.”

Your heart takes another devastating blow. It all crashes on you rather quickly; your throat feels tight and your eyes prick with tears, and you look back down at your textbook, but the words are meaningless to you. You take a deep breath, and when the tears start to go away, you think you might manage to get through this without embarrassing yourself.

“Y/N.” Her voice is so soft, and immediately the tears are back. “Baby, can you—”

“Don’t,” you cut in sharply, jolting back and to your feet when her hand lands on yours, an attempt at comfort. “Please. Jesus, please don’t call me that.”

You manage to look at her, and you immediately regret it. Her eyes are brimming with tears, fingers twisted together in her lap as she looks up at you, shoulders taut. She knows what’s coming, and somehow that doesn’t make it any easier. You take a big, deep breath, if only to try and make sure your voice comes out steady.

“I can’t…” You swallow thickly, rub at your chest to try and alleviate some pressure. “I can’t do this anymore, Wanda.”

She chokes on a sob, and the sound twists the knife. You pull in a strangled breath, forcing your eyes away from her face.

“It’s been - it’s been four, almost five months of… being your secret, and I can’t… I can’t do that anymore.”

“I…” She lets out an involuntary little whimper, covering her mouth with her hand and closing her eyes to stave off the sound.

You blow out a harsh breath. “This - us - isn’t fair. On either of us. All this sneaking around is doing nothing but hurting us, and I… I can’t put myself through that. I can’t let you put yourself through it.”

“Y/N, I… being with you, is - it’s worth it—”

“Is it?” you cut in, and Wanda looks away to hide the way her face crumples. “We… we’re running out of time, Wanda. We’re graduating soon, and then what? We go to school in different states and do long-distance while your parents and Jarvis both think you’re dating him? That won’t work. You know that won’t work.”

“I… I’ll tell my parents,” Wanda says after a beat, her voice strained. “I’ll call my father right now and tell him, if - if that’s what it takes to make you stay. I just…” She takes a breath. “I just want you to stay. Please.”

“I can’t,” you choke out, tears slipping out over your cheeks. You inhale sharply, stepping forward to grab your jacket and your books from where they sit on the bed before turning on your heel and heading towards her door. “I can’t. We can’t. I’m sorry.”

“Y/N.” You can hear her scramble off the bed as you step out into the hallway, can hear her pacing after you as you walk down the stairs, too focused on holding back your tears to even hear her calling for you. “Wait. Wait, please.”

You almost knock right into Pietro when you stumble out the front door, and when you look up you’re met with Iryna Maximoff, her face pulled together in concern. Your feet are glued to the floor temporarily, fear shooting down your spine.

“Y/N, sweetheart, are you alright?”

Her voice snaps you out of it, and you blink rapidly. “I’m— I’m - sorry.”

Pietro’s concerned, “Hey, what’s going on?” goes in one ear and out the other as you climb into your car.

Wanda doesn’t follow you past the doorway, stopped by Pietro as he tries to get her to calm down, and the second you’ve pulled out of their driveway and rounded the corner, full-body sobs start to rack your body. You find yourself having to pull over only a few streets away, pressing a hand to your aching chest as you struggle to breathe.

“Fuck!” You hit the steering wheel with the heel of your hand, accentuating each word with a solid thump. “Fuck, fuck fuck!”

When you finally get home, when you think you’ll be able to hold off on crying at least until your mother goes to bed, you immediately prove yourself wrong. Your mother greets you warmly from the kitchen, starting to tell you something about dinner as she turns around, but then her face falls in concern and she rounds the kitchen island to reach you.

“Honey, what is it?”

You break. You shove forward to wrap your arms around her, hiding your face in her shoulder as your shoulders jolt with the force of your sobs. Your mother lets out a soft Oh, sweetie as she wraps you up, hands rubbing comfortingly over your shoulders.

She holds you until your sobs have calmed into small sniffles and hiccups, never once stopping the rocking motion she’s set. She’s quiet for a long while, until she asks in a gentle little voice, “Did something happen with Wanda?”

You gasp softly, pulling back to look at her, your brows furrowed. Your mother gives you a sad little smile, reaching up to tuck your hair behind your ear. “How…” You swallow. “How long have you…?”

“A while,” she nods. At your bewildered expression, her smile widens, the corners of her eyes crinkling. “I’m your mother, darling. I know things.”

You huff a laugh, pulling your hands away from her to rub at your eyes. “I broke up with her,” you say quietly, fighting to swallow around the lump in your throat.

Your mother frowns. “Why?”

“I was - I’m sick of being a secret. I know that sounds selfish, but… I don’t know. It’s not fair of me to force her into telling her parents, but I just… hiding hurt.” You swallow dryly, eyes burning. “Does that make me a bad person?”

Your mother clicks her tongue. “No, it doesn’t,” she says gently. “Not at all.”

You clench your jaw. “But…”

“Does she love you?”

The question catches you entirely off guard. For a few moments, you fumble with a response, before, “She… I dunno, we haven’t said…”

“Have you slept together?”

A flustered laugh bubbles up your throat in response, and you take a half a step back as your face flushes deeply. “Mom!” you say. Your mother’s lips quirk in amusement before her face smooths out into one of seriousness again.

“I just want to make sure that girl hasn’t been taking advantage of you,” she says.

“She hasn’t,” you reply quickly. “Wanda isn’t like that. We… we did, you know, but it’s not - I mean, it was - you know, we both…”

Jesus, your face is on fire.

Your mother seems to take pity on you, smiling a little as she tucks hair behind your ear again. You grumble, embarrassed, turning your face away from her. She doesn’t let you get far, however, gently tapping under your chin to get you to look at her.

“I’m proud of you,” she says softly. “For taking care of yourself. Alright? You did the hard thing. I’m proud of you.”

You tighten your jaw, the tears coming back in an instant. “I - I don’t…” You huff. “I don’t want to let her go, mom.”

Her lips twist thoughtfully, and when she pulls you back into a hug, you sink into her again, burrowing your face in her shoulder and breathing in her perfume. Her hand smooths down your back, and you sigh quietly, closing your eyes against her.

“Everything will work out exactly how it’s supposed to,” she assures you. “You’ll be alright.”

You aren’t quite sure you believe her.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda fluff #wanda angst #wanda smut #wanda series #j is writing #mine

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dykedvonte · 14 days

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Logistically the Strip is such a fragile area because Mr. House is so uncompromising and just not personally familiar with features of the waste land. The guy hasn’t left in over 200 years and we see in game that his calculations and this contingency plans fall completely apart with one spanner in the works.

Without upgraded securitrons then he’s boned. Even then, say they get an infestation of Cazadores? Pack of Deathclaws roll in? Maybe even just a highly organized band of raiders stay covered long enough to get into a central area. The amount of collateral alone in these scenarios is something that shows his ineptitude and hubris. He fits everything on such a tight line without understanding what its tethered to that it’s obvious to everyone but him why it would fail that way.

His measures are purely preventive and once the issue gets past that he struggled to circumvent major damage or further complications. He warps the numbers to seem like he’s taking it in stride or that he’s okay with the margin of errors but it’s all just him protecting his ego.

#like really he was def upset that he didn’t save all of Vegas due to margin of errors but he had not sustainable back up plan #eventually his system would crash again and if the chip was lost or broken or never finished he was cooked #he is a smart mind but in the context of fallout he does not relate to the wasteland in any way #and it is his downfall #fallout #fallout new vegas #mr house fnv #robert edwin house

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moodymisty · 1 year

Note

May I ask for sugar loaded tooth rotting sweetness overload tech or echo fluff

Author's note: Decided to do Echo, since I had this little snippet floating around already and this gave me the incentive to finish it up. <3 It's not my best work but I hope you enjoy

Warnings: None really, A bunch of fluff, Post Order-66

It was Hunter who’d heard it at first; Your fiddling around in the back of the ship. There’s the uneven thumps of boots hitting the floor, sounding almost like someone stumbling around with no reason thought or action.

He ignores it, figures you're just working away on something or trying to stretch your legs. There’s so many things in this galaxy that Hunter isn’t meant to hear but does, and after awhile he’s learned to tune some of the background noises out.

Until the muffled beat of what is clearly music starts, that is.

It isn’t a recognizable tune, at least to him. Hunter isn’t a fan of most music- especially the loud kind- but this sounds much more soft and peaceful that what he was used to hearing in 79’s and other bars. The sounds of your footsteps now match with the tempo, and it's obvious now that you had been dancing, not stumbling around.

He thinks he’s the only one who can hear it, before his glance left catches Echo looking in the direction of it’s source. His arms are loosely crossed across his chest, but there is a distinct aura around him that feels anything but relaxed. While his brow isn't furrowed something about his face is still strained and tight, his mouth in a firm line.

Echo’s actions confuse Hunter sometimes. He knows the two of you are together, but sometimes one can catch Echo like this; Looking like he’s still just yearning.

Maybe it’s habit. Maybe it’s him still feeling ambivalent over the state of his body. Hunter does the best he thinks he can do and gives Echo a push.

“Gonna go check out what she’s up to?”

Echo's eyes quickly blink as if not realizing he’d been staring off into space, looking down at Hunter and raising up off the wall he’d been previously leaning against.

He knows you'll get into some sort of trouble if you're left to your own devices for too long, and he can't help but be a little curious.

“Yeah, I'll go give it a look. Be right back.” He turns his back on Hunter, rolling his shoulders to adjust the uncomfortable strain of his armor. He doesn't even remember the last time he'd taken it off. At least more than his helmet.

Passing by the refresher It’s only about ten strides through the main hall of the ship before he catches sight of you, but decides not to intrude right away; Resting his hand on his hip as he stands nearby the navcomputer.

“Not half bad, but maybe without the spanner next time?” Omega waves it around as she finishes copying your movements.

“Can’t; Need it to help Tech with something outside.”

There’s still a slight bounce in her step in beat to the music, the same as you. Echo glances to the left and sees your datapad is the clear source of said music; Playing something that’s far from familiar to everything he’s heard.

It's nice, though. It's a soft, peaceful beat that fills the air with a nice background music, not taking your attention with loud thumping beats or obtrusive yelling. It fits the surprisingly comfortable atmosphere that’s been flowing through the Marauder recently.

“Well, then go help him; Before he thinks his work partner ditched him.” Even if she rolls her eyes, Omega eventually turns away from you and heads back outside the ship, braving the morning fog to go assist Tech in whatever he had asked of her.

You watch her leave before turning, lips turned upward in a soft smile. Echo can see the moment your eyes catch sight of him, by the way you visibly light up as you speak his name.

“Echo!”

Your smile widens considerably, enough to smush your cheeks upward.

He loves this smile; Never has he felt someone be so happy just to see him. Sometimes he wonders why.

You take a few steps closer, holding out a hand to him. “Would you like to dance with me? My previous partner just left.”

Echo shakes his head the tiniest of smiles on his face as he crosses his arms. “Can’t dance.”

He doesn't miss the way your face drops slightly when he refuses you, and you tuck your elbows back close to your side and continue swaying. You're offbeat, but it doesn't matter.

“It’s not about being good, it’s about having fun.”

His ARC training taught him otherwise; Not being good wasn’t an option.

But you have this hopeful little expression on your face and he can fee his resistance getting torn away, piece by little piece. You could get him to do a frightening amount of things with those eyes, he thinks. He steps closer and tilts his head to the side just a tad.

“You’ll have to show me how. this wasn’t exactly in the reg manuals.”

The way you suddenly skip forward has him much more ridged, gently taking his hand and putting it against your waist. He follows with his scomp link, while your arms move to wrap around his neck. When you speak up you're looking down at both your feet, tapping his boot gently with a toe.

“Here; Just like this...”

He follows your motions with a surprising amount of ease, though he glances down more than a few times to make sure he avoids stepping on one of your feet. The music’s already looped twice now since you started it, and it’s about to again just as Echo gets the hang of things.

He feels your fingers just barely brush over the collar of his flight suit, close to the small bit of exposed skin at the nape of his neck. He can’t help but pull you a little closer to him, hand so cradled perfectly on the slope of your back.

“And to think you said you couldn’t dance.” Echo smiles, watching the way you seem so happy just to be here with him.

There’s not too many things he likes doing more in the world than making you smile. This special one; The one that’s reserved only for him.

“Us clones are fast learners.”

Even though you don’t respond to his comment, he feels the way your arms tug his face closer, until your forehead touches against his. It feels like an eternity; Where your noses brush against each other and his eyes want to flutter closed. He can feel your breath on his face, lips parted in a constant invitation. But you were the one who closes the distance, pressing your lips to his and tightening your arms to pull him impossibly closer.

The minute you do Echo’s hand tightens almost to the point where it's almost painful; The fabric of your top bunched between his fingers as he grips your waist. It's one of those moments where he feels that you're really here, and he hadn't just dreamed this whole thing up.

You aren’t going to just vanish on him.

Your lips pull away from his with a soft 'pop' and you sneak another quick peck, while Echo stares at the little imperfections on your skin. He looks almost nervous, watching the way you kiss his cheekbone and sigh, holding him tight. The song had already started again, halfway through the first chorus.

Your simple dance had become almost mindless between the two of you, having gotten into a consistent rhythm. It's nice; A little port in the storm. He doesn't even have to think about it anymore.

"I didn't think it would be this easy," Echo glances down at his own boots for a moment, watching the way his follow yours as you lead. You feel his hand brush up and down the small of your back as you move with him. His touch is always so soft.

"Well, now aren’t you all suave." Echo’s smile favors one side.

“Just needed a second to get the rhythm, gorgeous.”

Now there’s Echo; Seeing the way eyes look over you with far less hesitation than they had been before. You love when he gets his confidence back, and his thoughts aren't getting the better of him. You love all of him, but his smirk is one of your favorites. He leans down to steal another kiss from you, his hand moving from your back to cup your jaw.

This feels, euphoric. He’s surprised nothings come to break it up yet.

“So does that mean in a few minutes you’ll be able to sweep me off my feet?” The fabric of his glove is rough against your cheek, but his touch is still so gentle as he tilts your head up just a bit more. Your lips are still slightly parted as you smile at him.

Maybe Fives had rubbed off on him even more than he thought. He always admired his confidence.

“Won’t even need a few.” He doesn’t see your smile for long, as he kisses you right after the words leave his lips.

#the bad batch echo x reader #Echo/Reader #tbb x reader #the bad batch x reader #mywriting

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