#she just wants him to put that datapad DOWN and relax and snuggle with her 🥺💖💖 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

aricazorel · 3 years

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"When everything is wrong, it's you that makes it right." prompt

pairing: Kaidan Alenko x Rebecca Shepard; set during ME3; word count: 1310

“Hey, EDI? Where is Shepard?” Kaidan Alenko asked as he rode the elevator from the Docking Bay to the CIC. “Cortez said she came back from the council meeting, but no one’s seen her since.”

“The Commander took a call from Admiral Hackett in the QEC and then left without stopping until she reached her quarters, Major,” the AI informed him. “I am not certain she is in a good state of mind.”

Kaidan inclined his head. “Meaning?”

“Her biometric readings are consistent with someone who is greatly stressed. Possibly distraught.”

Without inquiring further the L2 asked, “EDI, can you take me to the loft instead of the CIC? My report can wait to be filed later.”

“Of course, Major Alenko,” she replied with what Kaidan would have labeled relief if he didn't know better.

“Thanks.”

One minute later the doors open to the loft’s deck as EDI said, “I will have all communication and related items filtered to those who can address them. Unless there is an emergency you and the Commander will not be disturbed.”

“Thanks again, EDI.”

“You are welcome.”

And with that Kaidan was left alone standing at the door to Shepard's cabin. He pushed the door chime and waited.

No answer.

He waited a few more second and made a second attempt, this time identifying who he was. Still no response.

Part of him said he should wait to be let in. But the other part said to use the keycode she had given him. The latter part one out. Quickly entering the all too familiar numbers, the date of the Eden Prime mission began, the Major stepped through the door as soon as it opened. He was greeted by an empty space.

He frowned until he heard the shower running from the bathroom to his right. He let out a sigh of relief as he walked over to the desk area. Reports and data pads scattered around. Shaking his head he quickly made neat piles of them by subject and then made his way to the living area.

Cleaning up more data pads, clothes, books, and random items, the major hoped such a small act might help her just a little bit. is attention turned to the bed. A mess as usual. He quickly straightened it up, folding back the covers. Hoping it looked inviting enough for Shepard to possibly lay down in and get some shuteye. Even if it were just for an hour.

In the meantime, he grabbed the datapad concerning the council and Hackett’s latest requests. Walking over to one of the reclining chairs, he made himself at home in it while he waited for Shepard. As he skimmed the summary of both briefings, it quickly became apparent why she had hid herself away. While he had been taking care of some tasks for her which his Specter status allowed him, she had been piled with more responsibilities, more request, more reminders that time was running out.

As if the crew of the Normandy and it’s captain didn't realize that. They were constantly on the front lines and sometimes beyond it. Trying to gather the resources they needed for the Crucible at the same time they were dealing with old rivalries as they sought allies. Anyone else would have said to hell with it and demanded the responsibilities be forced onto some someone else. But not Rebecca Shepard.

Becca knew the stakes all too well. It was personal. Hell, she'd even died once ensuring her crew lived. She didn't know how to walk away from such responsibility, especially with the knowledge and experience of the past four years she carried with her. As Garrus had once put it, she just wasn't built that way.

As admirable as that was, it left the people she defended safer but the Commander drained. Or more accurately feeling guilty and responsible for things she couldn't and shouldn't take responsibility for. It was a strength and a weakness at the same time. It was something Kaidan had learned to look for early on during the Eden Prime mission. Something he continued to watch for now and hoped his presence on the SR-2 helped ease her stress. He was more than willing to take the brunt of it. After Horizon, he'd made the promise to himself to listen and think before responding even if he were mad. Even if she were mad. He would hear her and give her the benefit of the doubt.

Kaidan closed his eyes as he took a breath. Commander Shepard was still a living and breathing person. She still had doubts and fears. Dreams and hopes. People tended to forget that. He knew he had in the heat of the moment on Horizon. Now. Here on the SR-2, he wanted more than ever to be a buffer between her troubles and her sanity. He wanted to be her soft place to land. He wanted her to know she was Becca to him and not just the Commander.

And at that moment, using his Specter status to delegate things to others who could help either more efficiently or faster was a start. He opened his eyes and set to work on the datapad doing just that. Not all of the requests from the Council and Hackett had to be handled by Shepard personally. Nowhere did it say she couldn't have help. She was notorious for recruiting unlikely sources of aid so why shouldn't this be any different? Truthfully, the only difference would be that the orders were signed by Specter Alenko instead of Specter Shepard.

The quiet sound of the bathroom door sliding open and shut shook the Major from his thoughts. He glanced up as he heard bare feet pad across the cabin’s deck plates. As she rounded the display case featuring her collection of ships Shepard paused at the top of the steps. Green eyes met his whiskey brown ones as she tilted her head in confusion. The Sentinel gave her a lopsided grin and a shrug.

Shepard returned his grin with a halfhearted one of her own. He watched as she walked slowly over towards him, her gait sluggish. He was about to say something as she came to stand by him moving to get up. She shook her head no as she moved to sit in the chair beside him. Or so he thought.

Instead Becca nudged aside the datapad and curled up in his lap, her head resting on his chest. As she snuggled against him, Kaidan automatically wrapped his arms around her. He tucked her head under his chin, her hair damp from the shower. She smelled of the floral shampoo she used. Another thing that had not changed from the SR-1 days.

Shepard remained quiet as he felt her relax against him. He let her have her quiet time, knowing it was rare for her to feel comfortable to let her guard completely down. He was only too happy that he could make her feel safe enough to do that with him. He began stroking her long red hair in an effort to lull her to sleep. Even if it were for just a little while.

“Kaidan.” His name was barely above a whisper.

“Becca, you should rest.”

“I will but you being here,” she said quietly, her hand moving to rest over his heart. “When everything is wrong, it's you that makes it right.”

“I'll do anything to make it right, sweetheart,” Kaidan assured her as he kissed the crown of her head. “Whatever you need.”

“I need you …and everyone else to fuck off for just a little bit,” she murmured into his chest. She glanced up at him with a genuine smile. “But I mostly need you.”

“I'm here Becca,” he said as he kissed her sweetly. “And I’m not going anyway. I promise.”

#trilogyappreciationweek #mass effect #kaidan alenko #rebecca shepard #!fshenko #femshep

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femshepping · 4 years

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mass effect canon love interests: isolating and being lazy together at home - sfw version

kaidan - it’s sweatpants and fluffy socks time, baby. he picks out the best movies to watch together and every morning he cooks up an amazing breakfast for you to eat together. you take naps together; he’s stress free and his migraines hardly make an appearance. you do chores together and joke the entire time. he’s happy, and you are too. you spend most nights on the back deck watching the sunset together, chatting about anything and everything. there’s always something new to learn about your favourite man.

garrus - garrus finds it a little harder to relax than kaidan might, but he does his best to chill tf out and not tinker with anything that is even remotely tinker-able. he makes a conscious effort to put down his data pad and spend quality time with you, and you really appreciate his effort. you notice that his hand is always reaching for yours or gently pressed against your lower back whenever he’s next to you. one morning, you wake to an intricately set up target practice set up in the yard of your home. you glance at each other and grin; the citadel bottles? forget about it. this is the real test, sunshine.

liara - liara is very concerned about the virus. you place a gentle hand over hers on her datapad - “it will be alright, liara,” you tell her. she smiles softly and nods. she knows, but she worries for everyone and she especially worries for you. you put on her favourite tv series and snuggle up to her on the sofa. she tilts her head to rest on top of yours, and you stay that way for hours. her hand squeezes yours and you smile. when you wake at midnight to the cool cyan glow of her datapad, you don’t interfere. you know liara needs to stay informed, and contribute in any way she can.

jack - there’s not enough fucking stuff to do, god damn it! it’s a daily struggle to help jack feel fulfilled. she can relax for an hour or so, but after that, it’s a lot of pacing and switching between activities. you’ve let her wax your eyebrows and customise some of your clothing and rearrange just about all of the furniture in the house, but you absolutely draw the line at any more amateur tattoos. the snack supply also depletes at an alarming rate. you’ve gotta get proactive about this. “hey jack,”you shout, and hope she hears from wherever she is in the house. “what?” she shouts back. there’s a loud crash and you cringe. “come here - you ever play doom?”

jacob - quarantine with jacob is a completely equal mix of laziness and fitness. you spend every morning in a routine - wake up, breakfast, shower, working in the home gym, cooling down with some yoga and cool down stretches, eating, showering, then turning into absolute slugs until dinner time. after dinner, you snuggle up in bed and he holds you until you fall into a relaxing slumber. you know that jacob is concerned about the situation outside, but he does his best to keep his head calm, and in turn, yours is too.

miranda - much like liara, miranda is concerned. she uses her professional reach to stay updated on the progress made to help fight the virus and passes that information on to you. it’s stressful, but comforting to know that this won’t last forever. you regularly take miranda food and drinks so she can stay healthy while she works at her terminal. you stand behind her and massage her shoulders, and she sighs as she melts under the soothing motion. you catch a glimpse of an impending bank transfer - three hundred thousand credits to the nearest public hospital. you are so proud of her - you know it’s probably not the first transfer, and it won’t be the last. “come hang out?” you ask. she smiles up at you and lets you lead her into the lounge room.

ashley - ashley is pretty chilled throughout everything. she realises it’s serious, but she knows you two are doing your part by staying home and not having contact with anyone in person. she talks to her family a lot, and she asks about yours daily. she’s on top of the toilet paper situation - you’ve got more rolls than cupboards which embarrasses you but it’s also a great comfort. you’ve already left more than a few rolls outside your front door for your neighbours in need. you take turns cooking for each other, and occasionally work out in the yard together to get some sunshine. she checks in with you often - “how are you feeling?” “are you doing ok?” “I love you.”

thane - this quarantine is so so so serious for him, and for you. with so little drell around to accurately gauge whether he is susceptible and if he could live through it, you don’t want to risk passing anything to him. you spend time draped across each other; reading books and sipping tea. you take regular breaks to chat about what you’re reading and anything else that comes to mind. these chats always end with you straddling him, giving him a sweet and gentle kiss, then flopping down to his side, where he holds you against him and you relax together in the peace, quiet, and safety of your home. he teaches you how to meditate, and when you’re practicing beside him you feel as light as a feather.

tali - netvids and chill. soooooo much netvids and chill. day drinking and movies that are so bad they’re good allllllll day. you’ve both been screened and cleared of the virus and are isolating for your own safety, so tali decides now is the time for her to begin removing her hood and helmet for longer periods of time. you’ve seen her before, of course, but her beauty never ceases to amaze you. you’ll never get sick of her sparkling eyes, and you especially love the way they look when she’s tipsy and laughing. you both go to sleep every night with pink cheeks and a smile on your face, and tali’s bedtime stories about rannoch give you beautiful, alien dreams.

steve - steve’s got a heart of gold, and he makes sure you’re always comfortable, never scared. when he thinks you’ve been watching too many news reports, he gently takes your hand and squeezes it in his own. “it’s good to be informed and prepared, but why don’t we watch something else?” he says softly with his soothing smile. you bicker jokingly about what to watch. you end up playing monopoly. once he gets out the beers, you know shit just got real.

sam - oh my god oh my god oh my god - there are not enough inhalers in the world for the stress induced asthma attack that looks like it’s about to take place once sam has seen the isolation restrictions turn into a full on lockdown. she’s come so far with her anxiety, but you know this situation is a struggle even for people who don’t have anxiety. you never laugh at her or make her feel judged. “how about I fill up the tub and get some snacks and drinks ready for us?” you suggest as you reach out and hold her hands in yours. she looks like she’s on the verge of tears, but she nods and smiles. “I’m gonna go set it up, alright? you yell if you need me,” you tell her. most of the time, sam just likes to know you’re there and be alone for a little bit. she dabs at her eyes with the back of her sleeve and nods again. you’re filling up the tub when you feel a small hand gently clasp your shoulder. when you look up, sam’s smiling her incandescent smile. “let’s get in”.

#mine #ensemble #text post #kaidan #garrus #liara #miranda #tali #steve #jack #jacob #ashley #thane

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youareiron-andyouarestrong · 5 years

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39 + 87 + rebelcaptain

survival/wilderness + aroused by the sound of her voice

always had high, high hopes

It could be worse was the first thing Kay had said after the meeting that officially declared he had been put under Cassian’s jurisdiction. The one they got after Cassian had to convince Intelligence and the members of the Council that walking into the Rebel base with a reprogrammed Imperial enforcer droid was a good idea.

It could be worse, Kay had said, they could’ve dismantled me down for parts and had you demoted.

Intelligence agents don’t get demoted, Cassian had replied. We get burned.

Oh. Kay had sounded like he was recalculating his formulas. Not much worse, then.

Since then, it became a kind of mantra Cassian had adopted. It could be worse. That was what he told himself when times became darker and harder. Things could be worse. He could be dead. It was always easier to feel a little better about your immediate situation when you weren’t irreversibly dead.

After… well, everything, he had made the mistake of saying such around his team (his people, his network, his rogues). Then of course, inevitably, someone (Bodhi, Kay, Baze, Jyn) would start listing all the ways it could be worse. They could be stuck on a swamp planet. Bodhi could be missing another arm. Baze could lose all his guns, and the spare grenades. Jyn might miss the evening meal. The suggestions would become increasingly more and more ridiculous as time went by and they stretched their imaginations (which were truly considerable) to the limit. It became a game, a slightly morbid one perhaps, but one that amused them at least, and allowed for them to gently tease Cassian out of his darker moods. Of course, someone would eventually trump them all with pointing out, We could all be dead on Scarif. And then game would end, at least until the next time someone said, It could be worse.

Cassian was trying to remind himself of that now. Things could be worse.

He and Jyn were on an uninhabited (hopefully) forest moon, true. They were laying low from the Imperials searching for them, that was nothing new. Practically routine. It would be about seventy-two standard hours before their ship came into orbit and Kay and Bodhi could reach them. They had food and shelter and it wasn’t raining anything other than water outside their little cave. Frankly, Cassian had survived on less than that.

If it wasn’t in a Force-be-damned cave, then he might’ve gone so far as to say he had definitely had worse.

But it was a cave, and anything that wasn’t in the immediate city proper was outside of his experience and thus Cassian hated it. None of his training had covered wilderness survival. He had been placed solely in cities and military bases and maybe an outpost or two, if he was unlucky. He had never needed to learn to survive in anything other than outside the law and within the Empire, and that was hard enough by anyone’s standards.

This was probably what kept Jyn from needling him too much about his (entirely deserved) grousing. When it was established that they were stuck here for the next seventy-two hours, Jyn had simply nodded, and said, “Time to find shelter.” In the time it took for Cassian to try to set up a transmitter and send Kay the needed coordinates, Jyn had found them a cave, wove a curtain of vines together to disguise the opening, found firewood and then headed out and returned with this particular moon’s species of fish. Somehow she’d gotten wet wood to catch flame and was now comfortably cooking what she’d neatly gutted and cleaned out of her catch.

Cassian could only blink at her.

Jyn raised her head, caught his bemused stare. “What?” she asked. “I learned with Saw. He was pretty empathetic about it, actually.”

“I can see that,” Cassian said finally. “How did you get the fire to catch?”

“I keep a little bit of flint in my pack at all times,” Jyn replied. “Plus, I used your spare flimsy.”

Cassian’s head snapped up at that, only to see Jyn’s grin flash like silver in the gloom. “Very funny,” he said flatly, in much the same tone of voice he used when Kay was attempting to be comforting or encouraging.

“I thought so,” Jyn replied comfortably, giving the fish a little tweak. “I only used my spare flimsy.”

The fish was good. Better than good, though Cassian had privately wished he could have a little pepper, maybe some spices to season it. He had given Jyn some of his closely hoarded supply of coarse salt for the fish, a small packet he kept on his person at all times. Along with roasted in the embers an edible root Jyn had also found and brought back, it was, all in all, not the worst meal Cassian had ever had.

“Are we starting the I’ve-had-it-worse game again?” Jyn asked as she smoored the fire. “You’ve got that look on.”

“I can think of other things to do,” Cassian said, mostly for the form of it.

“Mmm.” Jyn settled down comfortably. “Better string them out, if we’re here for the next seventy-two hours.”

“I have my datapad,” Cassian said, his eyes drifting closed. The sound of the rain was soothing, the smell of woodsmoke and fish comforting, and Jyn’s voice a pleasant hum in his ear. “I could get some coding done.”

A chuckle escaped Jyn. “With what signal?”

He opened his eyes then to give her a look, which just made her chuckle again. “City boy spy.”

“Civilized,” he grumbled, not with any real heat.

“I can’t believe you never had any wilderness training,” Jyn said, stretching out in the heat of the fire like a lazy felid. “My next training for the Pathfinders is going to cover that.”

“Poor bastards,” Cassian murmured, just to hear Jyn’s chuckle again, a sound he valued more than the beep of a transmitting code, the whirr of a well-programmed droid, a whisper in the crowd, Fulcrum, freedom and rebellion一 “And I wasn’t stationed in the wilderness; there was no use for me there. I was more useful in the cities.”

“Useful,” Jyn echoed, and then shook her head. “It was still short-sighted and ill-prepared. When you write the report for Draven, you can tell him I said so.”

“He’ll take it under due consideration,” Cassian replied and Jyn snorted.

A companionable silence fell between them for a moment, until Jyn tilted her head back to glance outside. “We’re going to have to share body heat once nightfall comes.” Her profile was averted to him and her voice now dispassionate, which might explain why Cassian’s initial response was an absentminded “Hmm.” Then when what she said registered, he let out a startled, “Pardon?”

“Body heat,” Jyn repeated, now stubbornly facing away from him. Hiding a blush? The rich light of the fire made it hard to tell. “Plus the bedding. The ground’s not going to do your spine or leg any favors,” she added with a scowl in her voice. Any mention of his bad leg or back always made Jyn glare like she’d like to make the misbehaving tendons and bones work for him, or else. “And I don’t know how much the temperature is going to drop between now and nightfall. Probably a few degrees, enough to make us uncomfortable. So it’s only practical.”

Cassian felt himself automatically move to wet his lips before checking that tic. Never mind she couldn’t see it. “I’ll trust you then.”

Now Jyn did look at him, straight through the firelight and into his eyes. “I know.” The words vibrated with the seriousness of the statement, and how Jyn was going to follow through with it with every fiber of her being. The dim red gold light make her look gilded and shadowed, something wrought from gold and onyx and ivory.

Cassian gave an involuntary head shake. This what came of being in caves. They stripped away all your common sense.

The night came on, and Jyn’s prediction about the temperature came true. It was more than enough to make them uncomfortable and to break out the temperature conserving blankets. Jyn had layered their bedding as much as she could and rolled up their jackets to use as blankets and pillows, as needed. One thing they both knew all too well in this life of theirs was to sleep whenever it was offered to them. Jyn slept facing the fire, and Cassian’s back to the right wall of the cave so that they both faced the entrance. He ran warmer than Jyn, who always seemed to be a degree or two cooler than everyone else. There was some awkward fumblingーwhere to put his arm, where she could rest her head. But they managed it. Cassian could smell the woodsmoke clinging to her hair, the weave of her scarf under his head. He kept himself as still as possible behind her, resting on his good hip.

It didn’t feel like his life, this part, this small island of quiet. His life was shadows and hard edges and smog filled skylines. It wasn’t the smell of rain and the warmth of a fire on his face and Jyn resting on his arm.

This wasn’t his life. It was just a respite.

Cassian woke slowly, only to find that the fire must’ve died down at some point during the night. That would be the only plausible reason for why Jyn was currently so thoroughly entangled with him that he couldn’t tell his arms and legs from hers.

It was either still dark or almost dawn. That strange, unreal, dreamlike time when the edges of the world were misty and indistinct. It could be worse, he tried to tell himself, registering Jyn’s warmth and her slow, steady breathing. The way her cheek rested on his arm. How relaxed and soft she was in sleep, such a contrast to her waking self. Things could definitely be worse一

Jyn let out a sigh, a little sleepy sound of pure contentment, snuggled back into him, her rear fit so snugly against his hips that he almost choked.

He did not want to think about any other time Jyn might make that noise. He absolutely did not want to imagine what other circumstances could possibly arise一

Shut up, Cassian told himself only somewhat frantically. Just shut. Up. He wasn’t some over eager teen falling all over himself over a member of the opposite sex--

Jyn rolled over in his arms, somehow one leg sliding between his, blowing all of Cassian’s rational thought to pieces. Another soft sigh, warm breath brushing against his neck, her left leg slung over his hips一who knew Jyn was a cuddler? Not him. He hadn’t even given himself permission to imagine what Jyn was like when she was asleep一

This is a dream, Cassian thought. It was arguably the worst (best) dream he’d had in awhile, so he might as well enjoy it while it lasted, and hoard the memory for the dark nights and shadowed days.

Jyn sleeping peacefully in his arms, soft sighs in his ear, warmth against his skin, the sound of rain and a quiet place untouched by anything bad or hard and dark一

Another sleepy sound, almost like a moan as she tried to get comfortable against him, tugging his arm to better adjust it for her head…

Don’t let me wake up, Cassian thought. Please, ancestors, the Force, whoever is running this forsaken galaxy, don’t let me wake up. Let me keep this, I have asked for so little for all my life, and this isn’t the worst thing that’s ever happened to me, it’s probably the best, please let me keep it…

Jyn sighed against his neck, shifted slowly and languorously, her lashes falling and rising against his skin. “Cass…?” her voice was a low, husky rasp, one that made his blood run hot and fierce and what time was it even? Was this still a dream somehow?

In the dim light, he could see Jyn waking herself up, getting her bearings again. Her eyes flicked down to take in their entwined limbs and then back up to his face. Unconsciously his arms tightened around her, and then loosened again immediately. If she didn’t want to be there, then he wasn’t going to keep her there, he would never do anything against her express wishes if he could possibly help it.

“Cass,” she repeated in a whisper. If she wasn’t comfortable in this clench, there was no sign of it in her voice. But her eyes were watchful. “How’s your back?”

“I think it’s fine,” he whispered back. It felt too early to speak.

Jyn was quiet for a second or two, her fingers flexing against him. “You need to… do you have to go?” he asked still in a whisper.

“No,” she whispered back. “Do you?”

Never, ever, they could kill me here and I would die content, only you’d never allow that一

“No,” he said. “I don’t.”

They lay there in the dim, the world a very great distance away.

“We don’t have to go anywhere,” Jyn said softly. “We can just stay here… just for a little while.”

“Yes,” Cassian agreed. This was, after all, a very nice dream. “Let’s just stay here.”

The corners of her mouth lifted into a smile, a smile Cassian had once thought he would die to earn, and maybe still would.

“You make for a very good pillow,” she murmured, her body utterly relaxed along the length of his. “Best sleep I’ve had in awhile.”

Cassian was silent for a moment, gathering his thoughts. “Me too,” he said back, almost too low to hear. But she heard it. Of course she did.

#star wars #rebelcaptain #skitzofreak #prompts #my writing #otp: and make death proud to take us

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ma-sulevin · 6 years

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Tease

I’m not sure I’m going to get a smut prompt filled today (I’ll try to do a short one!), because instead, I wrote this after work. I... don’t know what genre it is, because there’s a little of everything in here (except full-on smut, although it does give me an idea). Whatever.

Rating: M. 1158 words. Kaidan Alenko x Hazel Shepard, ME3.

Hazel comes back to consciousness slowly for once, leaving her dream naturally instead of being forced from a nightmare. She blinks her eyes open and then closes them again without moving another muscle. She’s in her cabin, in her own bed, and Kaidan is with her. He’s sitting up at her side, one hand combing slowly through her hair. His other hand is holding a datapad up to his face, and he’s watching something on it with the sound muted. The movement of his fingers through her hair is a steady rhythm, and she doesn’t want to risk disturbing that by letting him know she’s woken up.

She sits and enjoys the warmth of his body next to hers and is almost asleep again for a second unscheduled nap when his body suddenly flinches and his hand stops its soothing movement.

He resumes again, but the spell is broken. Hazel opens her eyes again and peers up at him, turning her head just enough for him to notice she’s joined him.

“Hey,” he says, immediately shutting the datapad off. He puts it on the bed next to him, on his other side where she can’t see it, and brushes a strand of hair away from her forehead. “I was wondering when you’d wake up.”

She pushes herself up to a sitting position and leans forward to kiss him. While his eyes are closed and she’s leaning forward, she grabs the datapad from his other side and turns it back on.

It takes her a few seconds of video to realize what she’s watching. She has to push past the dizzying sense of deja vu to realize… yes, she has seen this exact thing before. It’s the feed from her visor from the Collector ship. She can see Harbinger taking control of one of the Collectors, and she can see her own hand throwing a biotic shockwave at a group of husks running at her from its other side.

“What the hell?” She pauses the video feed and looks up at Kaidan, who’s pulled a single wireless headphone from his ear. “What is this?”

Kaidan already looks apologetic. “EDI offered to let me watch some of your old missions,” he explains. He lifts one hand like he’s going to cup her face, but he pulls back before he can make contact. “She said, uh, that since I’ve been on the Normandy again, you’ve shown a, uh, ‘24% reduction in risk-seeking behavior’.”

Hazel just stares at him. “Why were you talking to EDI about my ‘risk-seeking behavior’?” She holds up one finger. “My alleged risk-seeking behavior.”

“She mentioned it when you took us out together. I won’t watch any more of them if it bothers you. I’m sorry -- I should have asked first.” His eyebrows draw together as he apologizes, real regret shining out of his eyes.

She sighs and looks down at the datapad in her hand. “No, it’s fine. Seems like you’d get enough of that out there though.” She hands the pad back to him, and he puts it on the little table next to him. The second it’s away, he grabs her arms and pulls her into his lap. She moves easily, settling her legs on either side of his hips, and rests her head against his chest. He wraps both arms around her and squeezes as she sighs.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, Shepard,” Kaidan says, breaking the silence. Hazel mutters an oh, good under her breath as he continues: “You did seem a little more… wild in the vids EDI sent me.”

She snuggles closer, nuzzling into his neck. His hand trails slowly up and down her spine as she considers her answer. “I wasn’t intentionally being reckless,” she says, finally. “I was just, I don’t know, angry I guess. Punched my way through more than a few husks.”

Kaidan’s hand freezes on its path but quickly resumes movement again. He sighs, and she can feel his chest expanding before the puff of air on her neck. “Well…” he says, voice low, and for a horrible second Hazel’s certain he wants to talk about the reason she was so angry back then. “I’m glad I can help.”

She relaxes against him. “Yeah,” she says, simply. “You do. And I don’t really care if you watch the old vids -- seems like it would be stressful, but I don’t care. It just isn’t what I was expecting when I grabbed the pad.”

“What were you expecting?”

She shrugs and answers honestly. “I don’t know? Porn?”

Kaidan starts to laugh, a low rumbling chuckle that makes Hazel smile. He puts his hand on the back of her head to hold her against him as he tries to stop laughing at her suggestion. When he finally relaxes, she sits up and starts playing with the buttons of his shirt.

“You tryna tell me you don’t watch porn, Kaidan?” Hazel gives Kaidan her most serious don’t-lie-to-me-I’m-your-Commander looks, but he’s unfazed.

He stares right back at her, cheeks a little flushed but still smiling, and says, “I never said that, Shepard.” She lifts her eyebrows at him, waiting for the rest of his explanation. “I also wouldn’t say that the best time for that sort of, ah, viewing material is when my girlfriend is taking a well-deserved nap right next to me.”

“Well, the next time it is a good time, let me know,” she says, leaning forward so that her lips are almost touching his, “and maybe I’ll join you.”

Kaidan groans and grabs her hips just as she finally closes the distance between them. Their lips meet in a bruising kiss. She tugs open the buttons of his shirt to smooth her hands over his warm skin, across his strong chest and then around to his back, molding their bodies together. His grip tightens on her hips, pulling her as close as possible as he slides his tongue along hers.

When he stops to take a breath, she deftly slides out of his arms and off of the bed entirely, walking up to her desk before he realizes what she’s doing. When he sees her putting on her boots, he stands up too.

“Come back, Shepard,” he says, voice gravelly and pitched just right to make her shiver.

She does shiver, but she continues lacing her boots anyway. “I didn’t actually mean to fall asleep,” she says, and gestures to the rumpled BDUs she’s still wearing. “I still have work to do.” He tries to grab her, but she avoids his hands and winks at him from the door. “I’ll be back soon, okay? Remember this for later.”

She glances back at him when she steps into the elevator, and catches a glimpse of him leaning against the door to her room. His arms are crossed, his shirt open, eyes dark and a smirk on his lips. She doesn’t look away until the elevator doors close between them.

#kaidan alenko #shepard x kaidan #shenko #commander shepard #mass effect #my writing #2018 writing #oc: hazel shepard

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sheyshen · 6 years

Text

Fictober ‘18 - Day 7

I’m catching up slowly but surely. There’s not really anything to note this time around. Only thing I can think of is: The Ik’aad is Kara’s ship, her previous captain, Tyr, chose the name and she never changed it.

Prompt: “No worries, we still have time” Series: SWtoR: Star Wars the Old Republic Pairing: Kara/Arcann/Theron (Post-Nathema) (Arcann’s mentioned and part of their relationship, but he’s not currently present in this.) Also featured: Kara’s sons, Caleb and Connor

There was a moment of peace, something that had been so rare for members of the Alliance until now. And with the war they were getting dragged into… Theron sighed as the elevator stopped and he stepped out into the war room. Even with the moment of peace he found his commander pacing the room, checking various messages and records, going from terminal to terminal.

They were alone, Lana, Koth and Arcann were off on a mission together, and Senya had already turned in for the night. So to see his wife pacing with such worry bothered him.

“They’ll be fine. Arcann will send you a holo when they’re done like he promised.”

Kara sighed, “I know, but I can’t help but worry.”

“You think he’s going to get hurt.” Theron grinned.

“More that Koth is going to try and pick a fight with him while I’m not around and Lana won’t stop them.”

“That..” Theron paused. “That’s a possibility.”

Kara shook her head, “I understand that he still doesn’t trust Arcann, but I wish he’d at least give a shot at getting to know him. We know how he is because we’re around him so much, but Koth doesn’t really give him a chance.”

He shrugged, “You know the saying, ‘you don’t know a man until you see him without his pants on.’ And we’ve both seen him plenty of times without them.” Theron winked, stepping up to his wife and taking a datapad from her hands.

“That’s not how the saying goes and you know it.” She laughed. “But I know what you mean.” When Theron put his hands on her shoulders and directed her away from the terminal she was pacing around she gave him a look of mock annoyance. “What are you doing.”

“You need to take a break.” He grinned. He pushed her gently, walking with her towards the military hangar. “Relax.”

“Says the workaholic…” She muttered, but she couldn’t help but return his smile as he started laughing.

“I know when to take breaks.” He removed his hands from her shoulders once he was satisfied that she wouldn’t turn around and go back to her pacing.

“Liar.” She reached over and grabbed his hand.

They walked together to the military hangar and took the elevator down to her personal landing area. It was dark already, but the grassy hillside was dimly lit by various in-ground lanterns to keep the risk of accidently landing on something to a minimum. Usually the Ik’aad was parked in this bay, but Lana had requested to borrow it for the mission. Something about a smuggler’s ship being more inconspicuous than an Alliance marked one.

In the grass was a small blanket that her sons were sitting on, playing with some holo and chatting to each other. When Kara and Theron approached they looked over, grinning widely.

“What’s this?” She asked.

“A break.” Theron answered, walking in front of her and leading her to the pad. Directing her to sit down he went over to the holo-projector and pressed a few buttons and started up a movie. Grabbing a bowl of popcorn he sat next to her and got comfortable.

“I still need to check the rest of my messages.”

“Kara….” Theron placed the bowl in front of them.

“Theron…” Kara stared him down before sighing in defeat. “Fine. I can check them after we take a break.”

He smiled at her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her close so she was leaning on him. He kissed her. “Good idea.”

“One movie.” She snuggled in and laid her head on his chest, asking Caleb to pass some candy to her.

“Mhmm.” Theron hummed, “Don’t worry, we still have time.”

“One.” Kara narrowed her eyes at him.

“Can I pick the next movie?” Connor asked, “Papa was telling me about one he watched when he was little and I want to watch that.”

Theron laughed, “Of course. Hopefully Arcann didn’t suggest something strange.”

Connor grinned proudly and turned his attention back to the holo, the movie was some action sort, likely Caleb’s pick.

Kara sighed. “Two movies then.”

Theron kissed the top of her head before grabbing some popcorn and popping it in his mouth as he watched the holo with the woman he loved cuddled up close to him and his sons excitedly watching the actions scenes and loudly whispering about it to each other. While he wished he had timed this better so Arcann could’ve joined them, they both cared a lot about him after all, but he was glad to have a chance to just relax and spend some time with his wife and kids. To just be happy for a little while before the next crisis hit.

#fictober18 #swtor #my writing #Theron Shan #OC: Kara Hawke #successfully keeping it short 2 days in a row! yes!#if you guys have any comments please go ahead and let me know!#I always want to hear what people think of my writing #one of these days I'm gonna write something romantic with all three of them around at the same time. eventually #rule of thumb. nobody can tell connor no. he's too much of a sweetheart #i should probably write about some other pair next.... since I shouldn't write about these three all the time

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daisydragonart · 6 years

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Okay so for your Smuggler and Aric, because this needs to happen and I have no problem supporting this entirely, from that angst/fluff prompt: “I think I’m in trouble.”

Indeed! This was so much fun to write! It got lengthy so I have to put it under a cut.

“Jorgan, you may want to take this call… Now.”

Jorgan looked up from his datapad, his commanding officer, Major Derrik Favine, was starting to get on his nerves. He knew the man wanted this to be the squad’s day off, but he had work to do. “Is it really that important sir-”

“Aric, I need help.”

As the sound of the voice he’d come to love sounded off, he bolted from his desk, running into the main area, staring in startled horror at the holo of Sha'narria Erike, a smuggler who’d run a few missions with them in the past, mainly on Corelia, and he’d had the pleasure of growing rather close with during those missions.

“Ria, whats going on?” He barked, demanding an answer as he marched over, already working out her coordinates. She never called for help, she’s too stubborn and prideful, so this had to be bad.

“Followed a lead to some smuggled goods on an Imperial warship, got separated from my crew, told them to book it and I’m trapped, my stealth unit’s been shot one time too many, and I’m wounded.” She rasped, her breathing hard and raspy, and she coughed a couple of times. Aric’s heart stuttered as he glanced up when she let out a small laugh, confused. “So, I guess I could say I think I’m in trouble.”

He narrowed his green eyes. “Ha, ha. We’re not far, we’ll pull you out.” He stated, not even asking for permission, he’d take a shuttle and get her on his own if he had too, he was not leaving her there to become an Imperial prisoner, or worse…

“How long?”

“Ten parsecs.”

She frowned, her brow furrowing as she seemed to peer over a corner. “Alright, make it seven and we’ve got a deal.”

He looked to Derrik, who was already putting them on course. “Stay alive, Ria.” He whispered, earning a startled look from her. Their eyes met and his heart wrenched. She smiled. “I’m not dead yet, but you so owe me after this.”

“You owe me, actually, but we can work something out.” He stated, words catching in his throat. He wanted to tell her he loved her, to be careful, to not do something stupid, but before he could, she inhaled sharply, her face paling even in the monotony of the blue. “I gotta go.” And she cut off.

Jorgan sped through the hallways of the Imperial Warship, what was she thinking? This place was crawling with Imps, and even he and his squad were getting overwhelmed. He ran down a corridor, growling when a hand shot out, pulling him into a tight space. He was about to shoot when he saw those fiery yellow eyes that reminded him of the summer sun.

Ria.

Her brown hair was down from its usual ponytail, a mess of kinky waves and sweat, a few cuts on her cheek and forehead, her left eye heavily bruised and swelling shut. She was holding her right side, which was bleeding through her fingers. She grinned, her open eye twinkling as she wheezed out a breath. “Stayed alive.” She whispered, looking over his shoulder.

He exhaled shakily, the state of her was far worse than when she called. “We gotta get you to the ship. Dorne can look at you there.” Before she could protest, he picked her up, and bolted down the endless halls, retracing his steps to meet back up with his crew. Instead of fighting him, she wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her head against his shoulder, he could feel the heat washing off of her in waves, and he started to fear that on top of her injuries, an infection had started to set in and she was getting sick. “Stay awake.” He murmured as he hid, holding her tightly. “We’re almost there, you can make it, you’re a stupid, stubborn, prideful, idiotic-”

“Keep insulting me, I’ll start calling you Kitten again.” She huffed, her tired, glazed eyes smirking at him.

He glowered, though his heart wasn’t in it as he looked over her sad state. Instead, he only ran back to the ship, meeting the Squad, only to have her ripped from him, and he was pushed back, told to remain away so Dorne and Yuun could do what they could.

It’d been A few days before Jorgan was finally allowed to see Ria, and it was only after she’d been admitted to a true medical facility on Quesh, her home planet, where she could rest in a kolto tank, did she finally recuperate enough to function.

As of now, the two were in her small hut of a house, her head in his lap and his hands smoothing out her damp hair. She peeked open an eye, smiling up at him. “Hi.” She murmured, breaking the silence. He relaxed, the tension that had been building in him since she called easing away with her soft, goofy smile. “Back at you.” He let the pad of his thumb graze over her jaw, smirking a little when she shivered. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I invaded an Imperial warship and barely survived.” She stretched out her legs, wincing when she pulled at the still, raw wound on her side. "You know, the norm.“ She sighed, rolling onto her back, reaching up and cupping his cheek, her eyes adoring. “Thanks for coming to my rescue, you didn’t have too.”

He rose a brow at her comment, pushing her hair out of her face so he could properly give her his disapproving look.

She whined, looking away. “No, I deny that look, I wish it away.” She waved her hand, laughing before sitting up, her expression turning a little more serious. “I mean it, thank you.”

He sighed, contemplating. “Well, you’re my girl, was I supposed to let the Imps have you? No.” he shook his head, pressing his forehead to hers. “Just, do me a favor and don’t do that to me again.”

“Sure thing, old man, don’t need you keeling over with a heart attack.” She snorted, then whined as he gave her the same disapproving look. The two snuggled in close, with Ria falling asleep in his arms, just happy that they both made it through another day.

#SWTOR #Aric Jorgan #aric jorgan romance #Aric Jorgan x Smuggler ship #Crackship #Soft angst #fluff #cute #Cyborg Smuggler #Cather Trooper

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tk-duveraun · 6 years

Text

Title: Fallout 1/? Fandom: Star Wars: The Old Republic Rating: T Genre: Romance & Drama Warnings: Unsettling imagery Summary: Continuation of Resilience. Morathis continues to try to convince Fox to do something they both want him to do. Notes: FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DO NOT RUN YOUR RELATIONSHIPS THIS WAY. ALso, hi @quizzikemen

Parts: Resilience

When the door closes behind Carina Meshurok, all three men visibly relax. Mardh sits in Fox’s chair, Rathi leans against the wall and Fox himself turns around and throws his mask onto his desk. Rathi watches Fox rub out the indents left by his mask.

Fox sighs and says, “She’s going to turn us down.”

Mardh pulls out a datapad and nods. “That was my assessment, as well.”

“I’ve already sent a message to Outpost Palanquin. They’ll come if I call, but the chances of them discovering the truth are… High.” Rathi touches his uniform over the crystals embedded in his chest. “They’ll come in and use our infrastructure in a way the Mandalorians won’t.”

“The first real test of my defenses and I’m failing at the first hurdle,” Fox says. He paces across the office, his boots loud and heavy even on the thick rugs.

“This isn’t a failure, Sa’alle, and this is hardly the first hurdle. Our defenses are secrecy. They’ve held this long through how many investigations? This is a test, yes, but don’t fail it before it’s begun.”

Fox gives him a grateful look. “Be that as it may, I’m going to have to do something to convince them to help.”

Mardh looks up from his datapad. “It sounds like it’s time for Lieutenant Fox to make an impression.”

“Maybe you’ll finally get that Mando girlfriend you’ve always wanted,” Rathi says. He chuckles at Fox’s stricken face. “Hound certainly has an impressive reputation.”

“Cyare-” Fox starts.

“Oh, don’t try to sound offended when you go right back and use that endearment for me.”

Fox makes an annoyed sound. “That’s not- We have a bigger problem right now. I’m not going to waltz in and start flirting with with Hound or anyone. I need them on the battlefield, not in my bed. Ivan, stop chuckling, this isn’t funny.”

“It’s a little funny, My Lord. I think you have a good chance of convincing enough of the warriors to protect home. It’s a dangerous situation, yes, but there’s no need to start talking as if it’s the end of days.”

Rathi pushes off of the wall and walks forward until he can catch Fox’s arm. “You’ll handle this. You’re very good at what you do. I’ll work with Tava and the mayor on the sterilization measures, as a precaution.”

“Thank you. I’ll be back as soon as I know something.”

Rathi puts his hands on both of Fox’s shoulders. He lowers his voice, even though he knows there’s no point with Mardh anywhere in the building. “I’m serious. I won’t stay up staring at the window. I’m happy if you’re happy.”

“I love you, Rathi.”

“You say that as if you only have space for one, dear heart.”

---

Hours later and the capital complex is still covered in traces of Force wards and art installations. Rathi cares about Olkin II’s residents; they are caring and inclusive and look after his not-so-little baby brother, but they’re overly eager to display their Afflicted talents everywhere. The fountains will be the most difficult to dismantle. The frame is useless without the Force directing the water. Leaving it empty might raise more questions than just leaving it and pretending it’s practical illusions.

But as the hour draws late into the night, Rathi throws the thought away to tackle later. It’s the kind of thing Mardh excels at, regardless. He prepares for bed alone and a grin lingers on his face the entire time. Over their years together, Rathi’s accepted Fox’s feelings, but it hasn’t made him stupid. Rathi knows his cold reserve leaves some to be desired in someone as vivacious and warm as him. Fox spends far too much time saying he doesn’t need anything more than what Rathi can give him.

Rathi settles into his spot in their bed and powers on his datapad to review what else will need to be done in the sterilization. He makes notes in a separate file and he’s halfway through the details on the capital complex when he hears Fox at the door. The chrono says it’s early morning rather than late at night. Rathi shuts off the datapad and sets it on his nightstand just as Fox comes in.

“Dear heart,” Rathi says into the dimness. He sees the shadow that is his lover flinch at the endearment and sighs. “Come to bed.”

“Morathis. I- Yes. Just let me… I need a shower.”

With another sigh, Rathi pushes back the blankets and climbs out of bed. He puts his hands on Fox’s arms and tries to read his lover’s expression in the darkness. “Do I need to kill someone? Did they hurt you?”

“Force! No! No, it was great, but-”

“Then come to bed.”

Fox turns his head away, avoiding eye contact. “I will, soon.”

Rathi gently turns Fox’s face back and kisses him. When Fox tries to keep it short and chaste, Rathi holds him close and deepens it. He wraps Fox’s braid around his hand and uses it to keep him in place. It doesn’t take long for Fox to drop his tension and reciprocate. When his blood is pounding in his ears, Rathi pulls away. “Come to bed. You did this last time, so I know I didn’t make myself clear. I want you to be happy. I don’t want you to feel guilty for doing something we both wanted you to do.”

“She was so hot, Rathi. A warrior like you wouldn’t believe. And I made her fall apart,” Fox says. His tone is as hot as his breath on Rathi’s ear. Despite whatever exploits he got up to with the Mandalorian, Fox pulls Rathi’s hips hard against his. “But I only had one go with her. Couldn’t use my Affliction to go again. I wore her out, but it just made me want more.”

“That’s what I thought. I’m not going to let you guiltily take care of yourself in the shower when I have better uses for you.” Rathi loses his train of thought for a moment and gasps when Fox bites his neck. In response, twists his wrist and pulls harder on Fox’s braid. “Do you want it enough that you’ll actually take me? Or will I have to beg?”

“The only begging you’ll do is for me to stop, cyare.”

---

Morning light is just starting to come in through their large windows when they finally settle down to rest. Rathi can feel bruises forming on his neck and deep scratches in his back, but doesn’t mind. He knows Fox will heal them before the meeting with Mardh. They’ll have a nap, twenty minutes at most, and then the day will have to begin. For now, Rathi just presses his nose into Fox’s loose braid. “You smell good, dear heart.”

“The armor does have a fragrance to it,” Fox says, his voice rough and tired.

“Was it Hound, or did you find someone else?” Rathi holds his lover tightly, to keep him from trying to squirm away.

“Her name’s Carina. She’ll bring her people in and a great many of the others. We’ll be fine. Tava and everyone here will be safe.”

“I knew you’d manage it. Are you going to keep her on?”

Fox shakes his head. “It was just the once. She’s Mandalorian. Any relationship she has will be with her spouse.”

Rathi makes a quiet sound of agreement and just snuggles in closer.

#fox & rathi & hound AU #resilience fic #swtor fic #fox #fox au

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padmidala · 7 years

Text

Entre Nous Et Le Ciel

request: anakin x reader, he has a nightmare about joining the dark side and hurting the people he loves so he goes in reader's room for comfort and she sings him to sleep(something he told the reader that shmi did for him when he was younger) and just really soft kisses and loads of fluff? thank youuuuuuu and **about the anakin x reader where he has a nightmare, could reader sing to him in her native tongue (because i’m french and french ballads are very soft and nice?? if you want to,“ je l'aime à mourir” is one of my favorites)

a/n: Not to be that person and return after months of absence with an excuse, but I’m going to be that person right now and say: school has absolutely kicked my butt this year! It took me a little bit by surprise because last year was a lot easier for me, and given how much school I’ve missed for personal reasons I’ve been pretty consistently behind throughout the whole year. I haven’t forgotten about this blog, though; I’ve been thinking about it a lot, I’ve just been really strapped for time. But with the new semester, I’ve managed to get a handle on my work and decided that I would work on some imagines tonight! Thanks for sticking around, guys, and I hope you enjoy the new content! - Eliza

the title translates to “between us and heaven”

It wasn’t too late when Anakin walked into your shared quarters, but it wasn’t early, either. You had already finished supper and watched R2 roll into his charging station by the time he arrive. The door sliding open alerted you to your husband’s presence, the sight of him causing you to set your datapad to the side; he looked exhausted and upset. You stood up and went over to him, pulling him into your embrace. “Long day?”

He let out a long, soft sigh, his arms circling you loosely. “You have no idea.”

“Here,” you took his robe from him and herded him into a chair. “I’ll heat up some supper for you and then we can try to rest.”

He smiled appreciatively at you and watched in silence as you pulled some of your leftovers out and began to warm them up. Once they were done, you handed a steaming bowl and a spoon to Anakin. He didn’t seem to care about how hot it was, and you couldn’t help your little smile at the way his nose scrunched up as he began shovelling the food into his mouth. It was gone in minutes.

“Thank you, Y/N.” Anakin said, sitting back in his chair and running a hand through his hair. “I’m going to go get ready for bed.”

“Alright. I’ll clean this up,” you returned his grateful smile and began washing the bowl out as he excused himself to the fresher to get washed up before bed.

By the time he came out, you had already put away his dish and slipped into bed. You were scrolling through news on your datapad while you waited for him, but set that to the side when the bed dipped down under his weight. “Thanks again for supper,” he said, leaning over to kiss you on the cheek. You smiled softly.

“Do you want to talk about your day?” You often found that it took some goading to get any actual information out of Anakin, especially when he was tired and stressed, but on occasion you caught him in the mood to actually share his feelings with you.

“It was just more issues with the Jedi council,” he shrugged off your question and pulled you down into his embrace, snuggling warmly into the covers. You reached out to turn the light off and then settled into his arms. You didn’t want to push the subject, so you just nodded in understanding and wiggled a little closer to him.

“Well, if you decide you want to talk about it, I’m always here.”

“I know. And I love you for it,” with that, he pressed a small kiss to the back of your neck. With each passing moment, you could feel him relaxing into you more and more, until finally, his breathing deepened and he was asleep.

Sleep beckoned you, too, pulling on your eyelids and fogging up your brain until you joined Anakin in a peaceful rest.

***

Unfortunately, your sleep that night wasn’t meant to remain peaceful. You were jolted awake by Anakin’s arms tightening around you, his breathing shallow and interspersed with muttered, angry speech. For a few moments you laid still, feeling disoriented and sluggish with sleep. After a minute or so, however, you realized that the only thing coming out of Anakin’s mouth was the word ‘no’. Over and over again until it made your stomach churn. He seemed to be getting more desperate until, finally, he jolted upright, chest heaving with effort and emotion.

You rolled over and let him adjust to his surroundings before sitting up and putting a hand on his shoulder. He tensed under you, turning his head quickly, and the sight of him made your heart jump into your throat - eyes wild and darting back and forth like a cornered animal, lips parted, breathing short and shallow. “Hey,” you murmured, reaching out with your other hand to press it against his cheek. “Hey, you’re alright. Anakin, you’re fine.”

It took some time - how much, you weren’t sure - before he calmed down and relaxed into your touch. He sagged down as though some invisible weight had been lifted, and you watched with concern as his breathing finally slowed and he leaned into you like he normally would. There was a brief second of calm before his lip began to quiver and his eyebrows creased. “Ani,” you used the nickname he’d had as a child in hopes of pulling him out of this state, but all it did was make his chest start heaving again. “Anakin, you’re scaring me. Tell me what’s wrong. Please. Let me help you.”

“I -” his throat was raw and his voice broke around the word, so you pulled him in, deciding that the contact you’d already established clearly wasn’t enough to provide any real comfort. He leaned in to you as you wrapped one arm around his shoulders and used the other hand to tousle through his hair. It was knotted from sleep, so you worked out the tangles as he sobbed dryly into your neck. Eventually, his breathing evened out and you were beginning to wonder if he’d fallen asleep when he began to speak. “It was just a bad dream.”

You almost laughed at that; there were certain things you would brush off and let him explain in his own time, but this was not one of those things. “Anakin, I’m not going to let you shrug this off. Obviously, it was a little more than a bad dream. You’ve been hysterical since you woke up. What happened in the dream?”

“My eyes were red,” the pause he took after this statement was enough to make you wonder if that was all he was going to tell you, but you didn’t dare speak and risk interrupting whatever thought process was going through his head. Eventually, he continued. “So was my lightsaber. Everything was red. It was so angry, and violent, and cruel.

“And then… I was in the temple, staring down at the Jedi younglings, and they were looking back at me with such fear. And I realized, distantly, somehow, that everyone else was dead. The Jedi. And…” he stopped, and pushed away from you. You were tempted to follow, to chase him down; you suddenly felt cold without him so close to you. But then he met your eyes for a split second, and the look in them was enough to make you pull back. There was devastation, anger, exhaustion, all fighting for dominance right there in front of you. But then his eyes flickered away, down to his hands sitting limply in his lap. “I killed them.”

You bit back… something. A sharp inhale, maybe, or a noise of disbelief. You didn’t dare interrupt him now. If you said even the slightest wrong thing, he would recede back inside of himself and blow you off. So you sat, silent and waiting. “All of them. And then the temple was burning and they were all just… dead. Every last Jedi. I went to a planet, and there was more red. I think it was lava.

“I was standing on a platform, like a military base, and a ship landed and you were there. And you… you were pregnant.” His voice cracked, and he seemed to be biting back sobs. “We got into an argument and I was so angry I choked you and you just fell to the ground and -” with that, it was like a dam broke. He sobbed so loudly you found tears welling in your own eyes. You weren’t sure whether you should touch him or not, but then decided that you couldn’t leave him alone, adrift in his own emotions.

So you sat up on your knees and reached out to wipe the tears off his face, drawing him into you once again and letting him cry into your shoulder until it seemed he had no more tears left. Finally, when he had quieted down, you spoke. “It was just a dream, Anakin. You would never do any of that. Is there anything I can do to help you fall back asleep?”

He was quiet for a moment. And then, “my mother used to sing to me when I was young.”

You nodded. “Then I’ll sing.”

He laid down on his back and pulled you with him. You situated yourself so you were propped up on his chest, looking down at him. Once he had settled in, you began to sing. It was a song you had learned years ago, a gentle love ballad in a language you’d almost forgotten by now.

It only took a few verses before Anakin was drifting off again, his face almost deceptively peaceful. If someone were to walk in now, it would look like he’d never awoken. With him asleep, you had time to ruminate on the dream. It didn’t sit right with you, especially the detail about you being pregnant, but he didn’t need to know about that.

And he especially didn’t need to know about your suspicions that that detail was more accurate than he might have thought.

#star wars imagines #star wars imagine #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker x reader

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wecamebackforyou · 7 years

Text

may i (lay you down)

A lil Finnrey drabble for Finnrey Fridays! I always love the idea that Finn is super tactile and always loves to touch. I wrote this really fast and it’s probably awful and I’m probably (definitely) going to write a better version at some point in the future, but !!! I wanted to share anyway. :’)

(Title is from "May I" by Trading Yesterday, one of my fav Finnrey songs. Shoutout to my lovely music anon for blessing me with this! <3)

Word count: 1042 Rating: T

[The whole fic is below the cut!]

Finn is so tactile.

He surprised Rey, at first, with just how much he loved contact; how he was always touching her in some way. Even before they first kissed, he would take her hand and lace their fingers together; quiet and tense moments alike.

He would brush his hand along the small of her back as he passed her; hold it there when they stood still. His hugs always lasted longer than anyone else's, and they were always so much better; so much warmer, softer, more comforting.

And now that they're together, Finn is never not touching her.

He holds her as they lay in bed like she's the most important thing in the entire galaxy, and he's trying to keep her safe.

His arms wrap around her from behind and he tucks her head under his chin after tenderly kissing the top of it. Rey relaxes back in to him and laces their fingers together on her waist, feeling his breath brush down against her face.

"I love you, Rey," he whispers, holding her tight and warm against him.

"I love you too, sweetheart."

He hums contentedly, nuzzling his nose against her hair, making her feel warm and loved and safe.

"Goodnight." She whispers.

"Goodnight, my love." And he doesn't let her go all night. And Rey doesn't mind one bit.

When they're sitting together on any kind of seat that allows them to sit close, he doesn't just /sit close/. He /snuggles/ her.

He wraps his arm around her waist and pushes his nose up against her neck, leaving a soft, chaste kiss against her skin. Rey will wrap her arms around him, resting her head on top of his, tracing little patterns in to his arm with her finger.

"You're so warm," he murmurs, and Rey feels it against her neck. "So comfortable. And you smell like you."

Rey chuckles. Presses a kiss to his head. "I should hope so."

He hums in laughter and snuggles even closer, and even when Poe walks in to the lounge with Jess and Snap following close behind, and they all smirk at Finn and Rey, Finn doesn't move.

At first, Rey had been shy about any kind of physical contact in public, but being with Finn kind of made her accustomed to it. Of course, if Rey ever expressed discomfort about being like this in public, she knows he would stop. But it just feels too right to stop and, well, Rey quickly got used to this amount of physical affection from him, and wouldn't have it any other way.

When they're sitting eating in the mess, at a table with all their friends surrounding them and laughing together, Finn has his hand on her thigh or his arm around her.

He'll smooth his thumb against her skin or the fabric of her clothes, and Rey feels a warm little flutter in her chest. Just little touches like this mean the world to her, really. Because it shows just how much he loves her. How much he needs her.

Sometimes, he hooks their legs together under the table and Rey will smile to herself.

During meetings, especially when it's one filled with bad or negative news, Finn doesn't let go of her hand. Even when they have to do things like type on their datapads, he doesn't let go, and Rey doesn't want him to. He smoothes over the top of her hand with his thumb, and Rey squeezes reassuringly every few minutes.

He's here. That's what he's trying to tell her. And she's here for him. They're here for each other. That's what this little touch means.

Finn loves to play with Rey's hair.

Whether he's brushing it for her, washing it for her when they share a bath or shower, or even just as they lie in bed together; he likes nothing more than to run his hands through her locks, and he always smiles when she smiles. When she closes her eyes and leans in to his touch.

On mornings, when he comes in from the 'fresher to find Rey sitting at the desk ready to put her hair up for the day, he'll always head straight over and offer to do it for her.

He starts by brushing through it with her comb, gently, holding the roots so it doesn't pull on her scalp. He lets the freshly combed strands of hair run through his fingers a few times, and Rey smiles at his reflection in the mirror. He's just wearing a towel around his waist, having not yet gotten dressed, and there are still a few drops of water lining his shoulders. Rey wants to kiss them away.

Then he'll grab a hair tie and pull up the first section of hair to tie in to a bun. It didn't take him long to learn how to do this; he's so clever and a very fast learner, and it never ceases to amaze Rey. He works her hair carefully but firmly enough to have it put up properly and securely.

This means a lot to Rey; more than he probably knows. To have someone take care of her; to do these little things for her that she always had to do for herself as a child. It shows how much he cares for her; how much he wants her to be happy and safe and comfortable.

And when he tucks back the little strands of hair that instantly fall from her buns to frame her face, she turns to face him, and he strokes her cheeks with his hands.

"All done." He smiles, and Rey almost melts.

"Thank you." She kisses the inside of his wrist.

"Anytime," his lips meet her forehead. "You know how I love to play with your hair."

She giggles. "I know. And you know how much I love it when you do."

He plays with her hair in more intimate situations, too, of course. But it usually involves his hands staying in her hair and lightly scrunching it in to his fists as she straddles his hips or has her mouth on them. He just loves her hair, and he loves to touch it, and Rey is perfectly okay with that.

A/N: Thank you for reading! I plan on writing a sequel to this, covering Rey's feelings and approach to touch, because I feel like they will handle being touch-starved for so long in different ways. I published this over here on AO3 too, so please drop by there to leave kudos and a comment if you feel like it! :)

#finnreyfridays #finnrey #jedistorm #rebelfinn #my fics #my post: fic #my post: finnrey

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one-of-us-must-be-crazy · 5 years

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13, 23 Ripules, please?

Under a cut becuase 1.) the second half of the first answer turned dark as fuck, and 2). that 300 word thing ended up with a super-long prelude.

13. Name something they would never do for the other person.

Amanda would never be the one to handle major updates. For minor fixes, general upkeep…well, she has an engineering degree and more than basic hands-on experience with synthetics, why bother going to a lab? Dealing with their questioning glances and assumptions and judgements…No, no, they’d rather take care of it themselves.

However, when Samuels needed his memory core installed in a new body, they both grit their teeth and found an independent lab that specialized in synthetics. Ripley stayed through the procedure, monitored it carefully through a window becuase she needed to know she was getting him back and not a copy (I’d know, she tries to tell herself, I’d know if it was only a copy because even if we don’t have them I know he has a soul and I’d know if it was missing.)

Samuels would never follow one very specific set of orders that she made him swear to.

“Find someone younger,” she told him; begged him that when she finally looked too old to be his partner that he wouldn’t stay around out of responsibility. Put her in a home, and find a life with someone else. He’d never. Realistically, he knows it’s possible that there very well could be others out there now or in the future that he’d be able to love, but Ripley was the first one. And if he was lucky enough to find forever the first time… Anyone else would either pale in comparison to her, or worse, what if he found someone even more suited for him, that he loved more? The concept was as repellant to him as his own death.

Her death on the other hand…

Her will, that she told him he would be legally bound to follow, included strict orders that should the shell program be available–even as an experiment–at the time of her death, he was not under any circumstances to put her in one. The money, the risks, the unnaturalness of it; Ripley lived as a human, and would die as one, and like so many other widowed spouses, hers would find someone else or perhaps another pursuit or purpose to fill his time.

Samuels found it rather selfish of her to want him to be alone. If anything ever were to happen to her that put her life at risk, and the shell was an option, he would destroy any and all records that she ever held an option on it. As legal next of kin (and so he was at this point in the census records, forged of course, but it was still there) he’d be the one to tell them Yes.

If the shells weren’t ready yet, then he’d request cryo for her until they were.

And it’s only fair, she refused to allow him to die, he can only do the same.

23. Write a ~300 scene between them with no dialogue, only body language.

(okay so I wrote about 600 words of exposition and still didn’t get to the prompt itself, and it kept getting more and more miserable so let’s go with this instead)

It was just one patch job. One. Simple. Job. It shouldn’t have gone this badly, and if it did it should have been laughed off, but his panicked ass overreacted, got angry, then apologetic, then morose, and now this again…

Samuels was still standing at their counter going through a thousand different pages on the release of the new patch, and exactly how and why it could have caused him to lose the ability to speak. Not exactly accurate, so far he had found and showed her (tapping on the countertop to get her attention from the living space across the center room) that he wasn’t unable to speak, but unable to connect his central command system to his vocalizer.

Nine months into cohabitation, and they were mostly (she was mostly) comfortable and adjusted to his technical functions and needs, but to him any slight reminder that she was aware of what he was sent him on a downward spiral into himself. Amanda had tried earlier, edging him back towards the sofa; if his mouth was occupied then no one would notice he wasn’t talking.

Apparently, he hadn’t been interested in making out like repressed teenagers.

Fine then, she’d let him wait out his misery until the another patch came out from the labs to fix this line of fucked up coding. An hour after she figured that, she felt a wave of guilt at his nerve-ridden expression as he tapped the refresh button for the hundredth time, his posture so straight it was painful to look at.

She sighed, stretched a little, and slumped back into the couch. A minute.

Leaning forward, she sighed again, exaggeratedly, and he looked up. Poor bastard looked utterly miserable. He raised an eyebrow at her, his lips parted slightly like he had almost tried to speak again. Ripley shrugged in silence, earning her a confused look over. She smiled, shivered a little (it was unseasonably cold, she’d send him to Luna’s climate control department with a note of that), and snuggled into the back of the couch. There was a slight whir of his respirator as he breathed out, picked up his datapad from the counter and moped so formally to her side that she would have laughed if she witnessed it on someone else. She did smile though; he shot her a pointed glance, sat as bolt-right as he was standing at the counter, and went back to staring at his screen.

Ripley turned sideways and leaned back into the arm of the couch, her legs pulled up in front of her. Samuels, with all the emotion of an eye roll without the actual action of it reached an arm out, and Ripley scooted over under it, tucking herself in close next to him. His brows were still knit tightly; Ripley chewed on her lower lip. Usually touch was enough to melt him.

A short, annoyed breath (drama queen, he doesn’t need to breathe..) and he held up the datapad, words punched out.

W H Y A R E N’ T Y O U T A L K I N G

She laughed, bit her lip, and shrugged. This time he did actually roll his eyes at her, but he couldn’t keep his grimace; the corner of his mouth twitched, and she moved upright, gently pushing him forward so she could climb behind him. There’s confusion in his eyes as he looked over his shoulder back at her; she dug her hands into his shoulders; she pressed into synthetic muscles. The left shoulder joint was stiff; he could probably use another dose of fluid, but she wasn’t about to make him meditate anymore on his nature today than he already had to.

It took a minute or so, but eventually he relaxed under her touch; she gently worked at the muscles that met at his steel alloy spine, and rubbed at their connective points. They’ve been together long enough, she’s studied his likes and dislikes with him enough, and studied books on his make and model on her own enough to know what feels the best. A few more minutes of it and he shifts away from her enough to meet her eyes, if only briefly. He knows that she’s doing all of this, including the silent treatment to lift his mood, to show that she doesn’t mind, and it’s overwhelming for him to be the center of so much emotional effort. He opens his arms, and she accepts the request--and it is a request, if it was an offer he would be more confidant, sitting up straighter; this was him asking to be held, not showing he was there if she wanted to be.

Ripley hugged him tightly and kissed his cheek; she smiled at him drawing back enough to see his genuine, finally brighter smile.

The datapad buzzed, and they both looked down,

“Code Patch 98.7.21 Revision Available.” was blinking on the alerts bar at the top of the screen.

“Come on, I can move your computer out here to connect if you want,” she said.

He shook his head, and at her puzzled expression tugged her back to him; his heavy lidded eyes read carefully a few more minutes...

#his answer to that first one is supposed to sound horrifying #if i ever get that far into my fic (lol)#that's going to be a plotline #outreotter

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