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sempersirens · 8 months

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raising hell all over town

pairing: best friend's dad!joel x f!reader

summary: you've been a friend of sarah's since you were old enough to steal bottles of her dad's whiskey for parties. sarah was always the sensible one in your friendship, getting you out of the trouble you usually started. but now sarah has gone off to college, who else but joel could pick up the pieces?

content/warnings: 18+ mdni. alcohol. drugs. age gap. violence/fighting. smut: unprotected p in v, spanking

a/n: inspired by this gif set, and the wonderful @amanitacowboy & @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin for introducing me to that yellowstone scene kind of nervous about this, my first proper smutty fic - i find smut really difficult to write for some reason (weird because i'm feral horny 24/7) so this was kinda out of my comfort zone but i hope you all enjoy! PSA: i no longer have a taglist! feel free to follow my updates blog @sempersirenswrites and turn the post notifs on to be notified when i post a new fic :)

Friday nights in Austin felt incomplete without Sarah by your side.

For years, she had been the epitome of your partner in crime; dragging you back to her place or putting you in a cab before the cops were called.

Had it not been for your fierce loyalty and protectiveness over Sarah, you're sure her dad would've barred you from the house years ago. Sarah was smarter than you in almost every way. Academically, emotionally, you name it.

Joel knew this, and he trusted the two of you together knowing you both balanced the other out. Watching the two of you reminded Joel of a younger version of himself and Tommy, always thankful that Sarah had followed in his footsteps as opposed to her uncle's.

Your relationship with your parents was rocky, to say the least, and the Miller's house had always been a safe haven for you. Joel had patched up your split lip or bloody nose more times than he wanted to admit for a girl your age. He swore he'd kill your old man one day for the states you'd turned up to their house in.

Still, he couldn't help but feel the urge to grab you by the shoulders and shake some sense into you from time to time. As much as his heart broke for you, it was also in your nature to be a damn brat. Joel had endured countless stifling days spent by the pool forcing himself to not let his eyes linger on the curves of your hips. He struggled to look you in the eye when he saw you sat on the kitchen counter waiting to leave for a party, your mini skirt riding dangerously high on your thighs.

There had been times when he had been reckless. Times that he'd had to pull himself away from your invisible grip on him and relieve his tension in the bathroom, fisting his cock onto the shower floor, biting down on the shape of your name on his tongue.

When he'd re-emerge into the living room, he knew that you knew. You'd look through your eyelashes at him and smile. His cheeks flushed, shame setting in at the speed at which he'd cum from the thought of your pussy clenching around his shaft.

He would never let it show, but something would rush through his body when he'd ask Sarah what the hell she do this time? He remembered one time in particular, as Sarah relayed the events of the night that had led to your bloody nose, he'd looked over at you perching on the counter. With blood leaking down your cupid's bow, you'd locked eyes with him and ran your tongue across your lip, revelling in the remnants of your victory.

Still, you had fine enough nights out with the girls from work. They just didn't get you the way Sarah did. They would shoot you judgemental glances from across the bar that lasted until the Monday back at work for whatever you had done this time that they disapproved of.

"They're just dull. You should see the way they look at me for literally just hooking up with guys." You had lamented to Sarah over the phone while you were both getting ready for your respective nights out on separate sides of the country.

"It's probably because they've seen you get through an entire friendship group before your second drink."

"Well, they should be taking notes. Tell me nobody at college is as fun as me." Jealousy tore through your chest at the thought of Sarah spending her time with new friends.

"Nobody here is as fun as you. They're very... reserved." You scoffed at her politeness.

"Babe, just say they're boring."

"I'm giving them a chance. Anyway, gotta go. Text me tomorrow and tell me the damage. Love ya!"

"Don't have too much fun without me. Love you too."

Despite their judging looks, you were always the first person they called upon to finish any mess they had gotten themselves into. Still, you were happy to oblige, even if it meant a few awkward minutes of silence at the coffee machine on Monday.

The group of you had poured out of an Uber into the busy bar around nine o'clock, buzzing with the confidence of your pre-drinks. Rounds of shots were ordered and consumed at a dizzying pace, and soon enough, bags of powder were discreetly distributed across the table.

"Bathroom?" Hannah, one of your closest and least judgmental co-workers nudged you.

"Thought you'd never ask." The two of you sauntered away from the table, hand-in-hand, quickly bundling into a tight cubicle.

The bathroom filled up as the two of you tried to be as silent as possible, scooping your pinky nails into the small bag.

"Hurry the fuck up!" Someone from outside the cubicle called, thudding her fists against the door.

"Get fucked." You called back, muttering this bitch under your breath to Hannah.

As the two of you packed your things back into your handbags, the cubicle door jolted half open, smacking Hannah in the shoulder.

"Are you fucking serious?" You shouted at the small brunette on the other side of the door, checking Hannah over for injury.

"You hit me, you bitch." She straightened herself up, rubbing her shoulder.

"I'll do worse if you don't fucking move." The brunette hissed in her face.

You screwed your face up and shoved her, making her stumble backwards into the sink. The other girls in the bathroom grabbed their bags and scurried to the exit, evidently not wanting to be caught in the crossfire.

"Apologise." You said, moving toward the girl who was now pulling herself up with the help of the basins on either side of her.

"Fuck you." She spat, saliva hitting your cheek before she lunged forward.

Your fist connected with her nose before she even had time to swing, and your right hand secured a tight grip on the back of her hair.

"I said, apologise to my friend."

"I'm sorry." She choked, pathetically. Her face shrivelled in fear and pain.

"Not so fuckin' big now, are you?" Hannah said, which was ironic, considering the girl who had bruised her was now quivering under your fist.

Content with her apology, you released your grip on her and re-entered the bar with Hannah trailing behind you. As you both rejoined your table, you felt a tap on your shoulder.

"Our friend said you just attacked her in the bathroom." Another petite girl looked up at you, one hand on her hip.

"She hit my friend, here. Was just trying to teach her some manners."

The entirety of your group was now turned to face you, exchanging harsh whispers of your name followed by just leave it.

"You broke her nose!" The girl shrilled. You looked over her shoulder to the girl doubled over, clutching her bloody nose with an ensemble of people crowding around her.

"No, I think it just looks like that."

You grinned at the rage growing behind her eyes, your smile unfaltering even as her fist collided with your cheek.

"Harder." You shouted, rolling your neck from side to side.

"What?!"

"Come on, hit me harder. I know you got it in you." She didn't take much convincing; her next punch knocked you backwards onto the table as everyone rushed to tear the two of you apart.

You stepped forward to finally let her have it when a pair of strong hands pulled you back.

"Get off!" You shouted, kicking against who you assumed to be security throwing you out. You just hoped they weren't calling the cops, too.

"C'mon, doll. You've had enough fun for one night." A familiar Southern drawl cooed, dragging you out into the warm night. "Now, that wasn't very ladylike of you, darlin'."

He let you go from his grip and you turned to face him. To your surprise, you were met with the smirk of the younger Miller brother.

"Tommy." You breathed, "I didn't see you in there."

"Well, lucky I noticed you ain't it." He grinned.

Spending so much time at the Miller's had you well acquainted with Sarah's uncle Tommy. He'd seen you in much worse states than this, and in turn, so had you.

"Didn't need you to swoop in and save me, Tommy."

"Wasn't saving you, sweetheart. Was savin' that poor girl." You both smiled at the tone of pride in his voice.

"You got somewhere to go, trouble? Don't think you should be hangin' round here for too long."

"Can't exactly go home bleeding from my face." You sighed, realising you probably hadn't thought this through. You missed Sarah.

Tommy fished around in his pocket for his phone before raising it to his ear.

"Hey, big brother." Your stomach flipped. "No, no- it's not me. Joel, listen." You could almost hear Joel on the other end of the phone, witnessing it in person more times than you could count. It's not even ten o'clock yet, don't tell me you're locked up already.

"Our favourite little troublemaker needs a place to crash tonight. I'd drive her over but I've already had my fair share of beers. Okay, great. I'll tell her."

Once he'd hung up, Tommy told you that Joel was on his way to come and pick you up. You could feel your heartbeat in your stomach. You'd never been alone with Joel for longer than a couple of hours at most, let alone spending the night at his while Sarah was out of town. Something inside of you twitched in excitement, a warm rush settling deep in your belly.

You told Tommy to go back into the bar, that Joel wouldn't be long and you'd walk down the street to meet him in case those girls came out looking for another round.

As you made your way underneath the streetlights toward the direction of the Miller's house, you pulled your compact from your bag and touched up your make-up, re-curling your lashes and dousing a thick layer of clear lipgloss onto your lips, not bothering to tend to any of the blood trickling down your skin. You spritzed yourself with perfume and ran a brush through your hair, smiling at the thought of Joel seeing you waiting on the curbside for him.

Right on cue, his truck pulled around the corner. You raised your hand and wiggled your fingers, a small smirk spreading across your cheeks.

You were grateful for your earlier decision to wear your knee-high boots with a denim mini-skirt, adding a little extra sway to your hips as you made your way to the passenger side of Joel's truck. You climbed in and turned to face him, flashing him a toothy grin, well aware of the blood staining your teeth.

"You're a damn mess, princess." Something deep inside of you came to life at his words, causing you to visibly clench your exposed thighs together. "S'there I was, thinking to myself how thankful I am for a peaceful night after workin' lates all week. When my phone rings, just as I'd sat down and made myself comfortable."

"Peace is overrated." You replied.

"So, what did you do this time? Steal another cop car? Break into a hotel pool? Make out with someone's husband?"

You played with the hem of your skirt as he spoke, blushing as he listed a few of your past activities he'd either bailed you out of or heard about from Sarah.

"I didn't start this one." You said, a slight whine in your voice. "Someone hit my friend, I was just looking out for her."

"Your friend can't fight her own battles?"

"You never have a problem when it's Sarah I'm throwing punches for."

He scoffed. "Now, you know I've always taught her to never start a fight but always to finish one. You on the other hand, I don't think nobody's taught you anythin' of the sort."

"And are you gonna be the one to do that, Mr Miller?" You mimicked his Texan accent, which was much thicker than yours, and parted your legs in your seat ever so slightly.

"If I didn't know you better, darlin', I'd think you were tryin' to get me in some sort of trouble."

He pulled into the driveway and switched the ignition off before jogging to your side of the truck and holding the door open for you, as well as offering you an outstretched hand.

"Always such a gentleman." You smiled, looking at him through your eyelashes as you stepped out, hand in his.

He exhaled out of his nose, shaking his head softly as he slammed the door shut behind you. His hand moved to the small of your back, guiding you into the house.

"Sarah's bed is all made up, I'm sure you know where her clothes are f'you wanna change into something more... comfortable." His eyes trailed down your figure, your clothes hugging all the right places.

"Do you not like my outfit?" You pouted, holding your hands behind your back and sticking your chest out, swaying from side to side.

"Course not, y'look real pretty. Just thought you'd wanna watch TV before going to sleep is all." Joel brought a hand to the back of his head, rubbing his neck nervously as his eyes shifted to the floor.

For such a handsome man, he was so damn insecure. Maybe it was the gentleman in him, thinking that it was wrong for someone his age to want someone the same age as his daughter. He knew you didn't think like that, Sarah had told him multiple stories about the older men you'd hooked with at the bar.

He'd even caught you making out with a kid from your school's dad a few years ago when he'd come to pick you and Sarah up from a party. Joel had seemingly known the man, and you remembered how he'd stalked out of his truck and toward you both, grabbing him by the scruff of the neck and warning him that his wife wasn't going to like hearing about this.

So, you kicked off your boots and took yourself upstairs into Sarah's bedroom. Not bothering to close the blinds, you peeled your clothes off and looked at yourself in the full length mirror.

The warmth of your earlier drinks still coated your inhibitions. You knew you looked good in your black lace set, breasts sat perkily on your chest and your ass cheeks the perfect handfuls.

Fuck it. If he wasn't going to be ballsy enough to make the first move, maybe you should.

You kissed the tips of your fingers and pressed them against a framed photo of you and Sarah giggling at whatever was going on behind the camera.

"Sorry, Sarah." You whispered, before making your way down the stairs.

Joel heard you coming but was too preoccupied fighting with the TV remote control to turn around and face you just yet.

"If I can get this damn thing to work I think they're showin' Scarface at ten, I know you said you ain't seen it so thought we could watch it."

"Sounds good," you spoke, your voice more honeyed than usual. "Hey, Joel. Do you think this will be comfy enough?"

He whipped his head around quickly, ready to give you the same kind of answer he did whenever Sarah asked for his opinion in a changing room. It took a second for him to register what he was looking at, but when it clicked he dropped the remote to the floor and turned his whole body to face you.

"What the hell," his face turned bright red, unsure what to do with his hands. You could give him a few ideas.

"You not like it?" You asked, voice low as you walked slowly in his direction.

His trousers began to tighten around his hardening cock and you smiled, glad that you were indeed on the same page.

"Course I- I, what the hell are you playin' at?"

"Come on, Joel. I gotta make up for interrupting your peaceful night somehow."

You closed the gap between you both and placed a hand delicately on his chest, tracing circles with the tip of your long, manicured nails.

Joel swallowed hard.

"This ain't right." He said weakly, his eyes betraying his words as they devoured the sight of your body before him.

"Cut the shit, Joel. I know you want me, and I want you."

He didn't answer, but instead threw you over his shoulder and carried you up to his bedroom, placing a couple of firm smacks on your ass as you wriggle against his strong grip. Your stomach did backflips, exhilarated at the prospect of what was about to happen.

Upon entering his room, he threw you roughly onto the bed and worked at undoing his belt as you scrambled onto your back, resting on your elbows.

"Y'know what I really thought when Tommy called, tellin' me I needed to come pick you up?" He said, although it didn't sound much like a question. "I thought, this dumb slut needs some sense fucking into her."

You moaned at his words, basking in the side of him that you knew always existed.

“Thought t’myself, she needs teachin’ some fuckin' manners f’once.”

Joel stalked around the side of the bed and sat and patted his lap. Wordlessly, you shifted your weight next to him and dangled your legs over the side of the bed.

He brought his right hand in between your thighs, making you shiver at the feeling of his coarse fingers grazing your skin. He ran his fingers up and down the length of your thigh, each time stopping short of the hem of your skirt.

"This is what you want, ain't it sweetheart?" He spoke lowly, voice gravelly and as rough as his touch. Each night spent tangled and alone in your sheets, fingers grazing your soaked folds with his name on your lips felt redundant. Nothing could come close to the feel of his skin on yours.

Pulling you from your trance, he slapped your inner thigh hard when you didn't respond. "Need t'hear you say it."

"Yes,' you moan through gritted teeth, surprised you can even find your voice. "This is what I need."

Sick of his incessant teasing, you clamber onto his lap and hook your fingers around the back of his neck.

"But I think you need this just as much, Mr Miller. You must get so lonely in this house all by yourself. Sarah always tells me how you never have any lady friends hanging around."

You straddle his lap and grip his neck for support, softly grinding yourself on the hardness of his lap. He moves a hand from your waist to roughly seize your chin, tipping your face down to meet his gaze.

"Your old man must've forgot to teach you some manners, little girl." His low voice tore through your body.

Joel hoists your skirt up to your waist and flips you underneath him in one swift motion. His body looms over yours, fingers trailing a rough and jagged line down to where you need him most. He moved at an antagonising slow pace, but you can't bring yourself to give into his little game by begging for more.

"Here's what we're gonna do, darlin'. You're gonna be a good girl f'me and tell daddy exactly what happened tonight." The mouth on him.

The way your body writhed and squirmed at his words didn't go unnoticed. With no warning, he plunged two thick digits inside of you and held them deep in place, his face inches away from yours.

"N'if you stutter, or lie, or say anythin' I don't like for that matter, you'll be over my knee, red-raw," his fingers curl inside of you and you bite back a moan, desperate to not let him have the upper hand.

"No matter how much you cry those pretty little eyes out, I won't quit 'til you've learnt somethin'. Understood?"

You suck a breath in through your nose, a sharp sting reminding you of the open wound still decorating your face.

"Yes, sir."

part 2 coming soon

taglist: @cool-iguana @nostalxgic @chaotic-mystery @beardedjoel

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thepascalofus · 9 months

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Supply Run - Receipt (part one)

AO3

PART TWO

Pairing: Mando/Din Djarin x afab!Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Summary: You’ve been Mando’s crew partner for a year now. Throughout that year Mando has warmed up to you and given you signs that your heart throbbing crush on him is reciprocated. There’s one thing making you hesitate. The condoms he bought on the most recent supply run.

Content Warnings: MDNI, 18+ only! Post season 2, the Crest lives, strangers to friends to lovers, soft!Mando, helmet loopholes, pining, idiots in love, jealous!reader, mentions of sex work (sex work is work!), eventual SMUT (making out, grinding, f!receiving fingering, f!receiving oral sex, p in v, PRAISE kink, dirty talk), FLUFF, cuddling, happy ending guaranteed!

The ramp of the Crest lowered, revealing the bright sun and arid atmosphere of the random planet Mando chose for a pitstop. In the distance were jagged mountains, the colors of orange, red, and brown coming together to paint streaks across the rocky range. Sparse populations of trees littered the distant landscape. Large–but tiny from a distance–birds flew from tree top to tree top, wings fanned outwards to catch the air currents beneath their wings.

To your left was Mando. His silver beskar armor glinted in the light as he shifted his weight from one foot to another. Broad shoulders blocked a sizable proportion of your peripheral vision. Observing the new planet, he stood like a statue.

Tall. Solid. Strong. Capable. Protective.

Biting your lip, your gaze traveled up and down Mando, head to toe. He certainly had an idea of how intimidating he looked. Yet, he had no idea how that intimidation made him look so good.

People always snuck glances at you and Mando when the pair of you were in public. Whispers could be picked up on as well. Rumors about his Creed. The state of the planet of Mandalore. How dangerous Mando was.

The danger he possessed only made your feelings for him deepen. You knew what he was capable of, but you also knew he would never use his capabilities on you. Not that you didn’t want him to…

Maybe he could lift you up. Carry you across the hull. Place you on the bed in his bunk. His large, gloveless hands smoothing up and down your sides.

Mando could pin both of your hands above your head while he–.

Ok. Stop. That’s enough.

You cleared your throat, hoping to snap Mando out of his observational state, and you out of yours. “Alright, so we need five things: bacta, medkits, rations, a new flight suit, andddd soap?” You listed as you turned to him. Feet shifting, he turned his helmet to look at you. Shoulders that donned beskar pauldrons followed suit. The classic Mandalorian T shape of the visor burned into your pupils.

He paused, as if he was looking over his own checklist. “That should be it,” he confirmed with a nod. You returned his nod and added a small smile.

“Ok see ya!” You threw over your shoulder as you quickly bounded down the ramp of the Crest.

“Dank farrik, hold on, hold on,” Mando’s modulator gritted out as he clicked a button on his vambrace to close the Crest, running to get caught up to you. He rarely let you stray too far, especially when on new planets like this one. But, the Mandalorian read about the planet–and the quarry on it–before landing.

“This planet is under the jurisdiction of the New Republic, so crime rates are low,” his modulated voice filled your ears once he caught up to you, “You’ll be on your own for this supply run.”

Stopping dead in your tracks, your shoes crunched against the brown substrate underneath them as you turned to face the man, “Really?” You asked, eyebrows shooting towards your hairline.

Mando responded with a hesitant nod. “I have some business to take care of, business that your presence isn’t required for,” the beskar pauldrons lifted and lowered in a shrug, “I figured you would enjoy having free range over the market.”

“Are you sure?” You replied.

He crossed his arms, the muscles in them appearing larger when pressed together. Mando’s helmet cocked to the side and his hip jutted out. The chin of his helmet lifted slightly as it motioned towards the market. “Go before I change my mind.”

Smile spread across your face, you did a hop of excitement in place and continued towards the market.

Trudging along to explore the unfamiliar marketplace, you recalled the previous supply run at a more populated planet.

—

Mando’s finger was perpetually hooked through one of your belt loops as he dragged you from stall to stall with him.

“Mando, I’m not a child,” you told him. Your eyes rolled as he tugged you along, your hips jerking along with the movement of his arm. Sometimes your hands wound up on Mando’s arm to maintain your balance. The muscles underneath your hands hardened and flexed as he maneuvered through the crowd.

“I never said you were,” he stated as his gaze remained focused on the crowd. His eyes constantly scanned the marketplace. Beings of different cultures and origins milled through the alleyway lined with stalls. The crowd of the market was average sized–no hustle and bustle but also no empty stalls. The occasional sound of credits clinking rang throughout the dry air as someone dug into their pocket to pay for their purchase.

You scanned the market just as Mando did, following his metal gaze to try and catch a glimpse at what he was seeing. “Are we in danger?” Your voice dropped to a whisper, uncertain about what’s going on inside that beskar helmet.

Deadpanning you once again, he responded, “Not that I am aware of.” The T-shape constantly spun on an axis, and the grip of his finger tightened on the fabric of your belt loop.

Brows furrowing, you finally turned your head fully towards him, “Then why are you doing all this?” You gestured with one of your hands up and down his body. His hand jerked to tug you along, your hip following in response.

A large inhale and exhale made his beskar-plated chest rise and fall, “I want to make sure yo-,” he paused, then quickly continued, “Just want to make sure we’re safe.” He nods. The one he gives you when he's confirming something you said. Like his approval of the items you listed to get on a supply run.

Which brings you back to now. Receiving that same nod made a series of connections go off in you. For the past week you’ve been thinking about what he said. His finger tugged your hips with him, his verbal slip-up found its way onto the center stage of your thoughts every night cycle on the Crest.

“I want to make sure yo-.”

It felt like a confirmation.

—

You started as an assistant, helping Mando with whatever he needed. Marketplace runs? Check. Bounty information? Check. Small ship repairs? Check. But, calling someone an assistant sounded…weird to Mando. He didn’t enjoy the air of subordinacy the word possessed. The Mandalorian thought back to his days with his fellow Mandalorians. The covert worked as a team, with no hierarchy. Sure, some people were assigned roles, but no one was above anyone else. Everyone was part of one unit.

You worked on a small, galactically insignificant planet at a small-items repair shop. Mando entered one day with a scope for one of his blasters. Impressed with your knowledge and efficiency–the scope being repaired in less than ten minutes–the Mandalorian inquired about the chances of hiring you. “Partner,” he said with a nod, when he offered you the job, “You’ll be my partner.”

You both met at a cantina after your shift. Mando explained job responsibilities, pay, and the lifestyle that the job required. Sitting across from the man covered in beskar was intimidating. But near the end of your conversation you realized he was just soft spoken. He was also all business. Any conversation was focused on logistics of the job. He didn’t ask you weird personal questions. He respected your skills and your opinions. There were definitely worse bosses to have, you figured. Eager to explore the galaxy and leave behind the little planet, you loaded the Crest with your personal belongings the following week.

Living in the Razor Crest with Mando was awkward at first. Mando would keep his interactions with you to a minimum. You noticed that he only left the cockpit when he knew you were occupied, asleep, or off of the ship. If he had to be in the same space as you, he would leave at least a meter of distance between your bodies. Like you were two magnets of the same polarity, refusing to go closer to the other.

All business.

But that didn’t stop you from being friendly. Whenever you did see Mando you would offer him a, “How are you?” Or a, “How was your day?” His responses were consistently short and to the point.

“Fine.”

“Busy.”

“Awful.”

Dinner was when you typically saw him. He would come down to grab a ration pack and scurry back into the cockpit. You also saw him when he returned from hunts, dragging the bounty behind his beskar frame. His grunts echoed throughout the Crest’s hull as he pulled the quarry up and froze him into carbonite. You claimed a small section of the hull as your living quarters, so you had no choice but to watch.

Trying to break the tension, you asked, “How was your day?”

Mando huffed, his broad shoulders covered in beskar lifted and fell, “Nothing you want to hear about,” he deadpanned to you. If he did offer any emotion, it was cut out of his voice by his helmet’s modulator.

“Try me,” you crossed your arms and raised your eyebrows. Leaning back on the cold wall of the hull, your chest thrummed with nervous energy as you waited for his response. Was that too much? Were you just going to push him away?

“Quarry tried to escape and they ran. Would have been back four hours ago,” the modulator gritted out, “Not too fun.” His helmet tilted to the side and he squeezed his hands together that were clasped in front of him.

The Mandalorian’s wide frame took up the majority of the door frame that separates the carbonite room from the hull. Large gloved hands remained clasped together while he shifted in place, eventually settling on leaning against the frame.

You stood still in shock for a couple seconds. If you listened closely you could have heard the hearts beating in the hull. That was the most that Mando has ever said to you at once. “Oh, I’m sorry,” you started.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” he brushed past you towards the ladder going up to the cockpit, “It’s my job.”

You turned towards him, which halted his ascent, “That doesn’t mean it sucks any less,” your eyes widened and you tried to backtrack, “sorry, I probably shouldn’t have said that your job sucks,” you blurted out in an attempt to save face.

Mando met your gaze with the T of his visor and replied, “My job does suck.”

Did he just try to be funny? A giggle bubbled out from your chest. His silver helmet shook slightly from side to side and he turned back to climb the ladder. But not before he also let out a small chuckle.

His attitude slowly and steadily transformed after that night.

Mando lingered in the hull longer in the mornings and in the evenings. The mornings were when you asked, “What’re the plans for today?” And the evenings came with your, “How was your day?”

At one point he started making you a cup of caf every morning when he was awake first, and he usually was. He knew you favored the drink in the mornings so he began to regularly purchase it, and he built up a sizable stash in the Crest.

His preferred distance from you shrunk and shrunk. The broad Mandalorian opted to stand next to you in the mornings, helping you make breakfast as well as he could. Ever-so-subtle brushes as you passed each other on the Crest became more frequent. Sometimes he would touch a hand to your waist as he passed, or on the small of your back if you weren’t facing him.

The beskar warrior spoke more too. He taught you a few words in Mando’a, which consisted of a couple basic words and some insults.

“Di’kutla,” he spat out as he struggled to repair a part on one of his blasters.

“What’s that one mean?” You asked over your shoulder, looking up from the article you were reading on your Holopad.

Mando huffed in frustration and gritted out, “worthless…stupid,” as he continued to try and force the part off of the blaster.

Chuckling, you repeated the word in your mind and watched as Mando continued to struggle. You stored all of the words he shared with you deep in your brain, not wanting to forget this special part of himself that Mando shared with you.

One of your evening chats came to an end and the broad beskar man was drifting back to this bunk. For the first time, he paused and looked at you. You knew his gaze underneath the helmet met yours. No proof, but you knew.

“Goodnight,” the word gently flowed through his helmet’s modulator.

He’s said it every night he’s been on the ship since then. Sometimes his gaze lingered on yours too long. A couple times you swore you saw the center of his chest rise, as if he was about to say something, but it stopped mid-exhale and Mando retreated into his bunk.

You found yourself to be increasingly longing for the sound of the ramp descending, signaling his return from a hunt. He trudged up the ramp, quarry in tow. Freezing the person in carbonite was always fast. Usually small pleasantries were exchanged before he used the fresher to clean off.

If your mind were to venture towards more perverse thoughts, your favorite part was after he used the fresher.

He always emerged in a pair of black pants, a black t-shirt, and of course, his helmet.

No armor. No gloves. Not even the usual long-sleeved layer underneath his t-shirt.

When he turned to toss his clothes into a small hamper, you swore small tufts of dark brown hair peaked out from beneath his helmet. Nevertheless, a combination of factors had you in awe. Watching as Mando hauled the quarry into carbonite like it was nothing. You saw the toned muscles in his arms, developed from decades of finely tuned combat. The broad expanse of his back, rippling underneath his t-shirt. His calloused, capable hands are composed of thick fingers. You were in awe at his physique, his presence, the things he did to provide for the both of you.

And it hit you like a cold, ocean wave just how unafraid of him you were.

As if your fondness towards the Mandalorian couldn’t grow any more, he started returning from supply runs with gifts for you. Although he rarely let you go on runs alone, he did have the decency to give you space during pit stops. You would wander near him while looking at all of the different crafts the stalls had to offer.

One day you were peering at a set of comfortable lounge pants. You managed to whittle your wardrobe down to one set after damaging pair after pair when repairing the Razor Crest. Shoulders slumped, you thought about how comfy the pants would be when sleeping in your makeshift bed on the floor of the Crest. You knew you didn’t have enough credits, so you moved along to purchase the items the pair of you actually needed.

Milling about the market weren’t many people, which was most likely why you were alone on this shopping trip. The brown sands of the marketplace intruded upon the surroundings, leaving dunes of sand curving up and into the stalls. Sun rays blared down from the cloudless sky. Heat already seeped through your airy shirt and throughout your skin, conjuring up a layer of sweat. After visiting four stalls you purchased all of the necessary items.

Bacta. Soap. Rations. Spare parts. You confirmed each purchase on the receipts from the market. A step you always took to make sure nothing was forgotten.

You met Mando back at the Razor Crest and started unloading your bags. Item after item piled on the center of the ship's floor. Rations. Bacta. Medkits. Sweatpants. Ammo. Ra-.

Sweatpants?

The sweatpants were identical to the ones you stopped and looked at while shopping. Your hands reached for the sweatpants and marveled in their softness. Pausing, your gaze lifted to meet Mando’s T-shaped visor. “Did you buy sweatpants?” Confusion oozed from your voice.

His gaze remained on yours and he replied with a slight nod of his head, “Yes. They’re for you.”

“Mando, you didn’t ha-”

“Take it. Please. I feel bad enough making you sleep on the floor,” he insisted. His gloved hand gestured to the sleeping pad, pillow, and blanket neatly stored in a corner of the hull.

“Honestly it hasn’t been that bad. The sleeping pad you got is pretty comfy.” You shrugged and told him the truth. Sleeping on that plush pad was infinitely better than the hull’s cold, metal floor.

“You have to set it up every night. You at least deserve a permanent bed,” his modulator made his words sound like churning gravel.

You stared into the black T covering his face. His shoulders drooped, like he gave up on trying to convince you. The gesture was a silent plea to just accept the gift.

“Thank you,” you said to him softly, “it means a lot.”

It was his turn to shrug, “That’s why I do it.”

—

Today marks a year since the two of you became “partners”.

For you, that marked a year since you’ve met the man you had a heart throbbing crush on.

You knew Mando wasn’t much of the sentimental type. Everything he kept was for a purpose. Any sentimental things had extreme meaning to him. If you were reading the situation correctly, you had a burning suspicion that the beskar covered man liked you back. So suggesting you two get matching bracelets at the market wouldn’t be completely farfetched. Even if he didn’t like you back you could just play it off as a gag gift…right?

After trudging across the brown landscape for twenty minutes, Mando at your tail, you arrived at the market.

“We meet at that stall,” you heard from over your shoulder. Your eyes followed Mando’s finger to a bright red food vendor stall, “in 2 hours. Understood?”

A smile plastered itself onto your face and you gave him a sarcastic salute, “Understood.”

A breathy chuckle passed through Mando’s modulator. He shook his head softly and motioned for you to get a move on. You turned on your heel and walked to your first destination.

—

Bacta? Check. Rations? Check. Soap? Check. Medkits? Check.

The only thing left was a new flight suit for Mando.

As you walked towards the clothing section of the market you stopped at a men’s clothing stall to purchase an extra large black flight suit. Once your transaction was completed you walked further into the alleyway lined with stalls selling dresses, flight gear, loungewear, jewelry, bracelets. Bracelets.

Your eyes landed on a stall with various fabrics on display. The front tables of the vendor were packed with different colored bracelets. Bracelet materials ranged from metal, leather, twine, thick cord, beads, and some materials you’ve never seen before.

The stall became even more enchanting as you got closer. Signs displayed prices, sizes, and ongoing sales. Immediately your eyes landed on a vast array of multicolored bracelets. You were thinking of getting something green since Mando told you that Grogu is green.

A couple months ago he told you about how he had to give Grogu to a Jedi to train, since Grogu could use the force. Your heart sank. Mando often turned the metal knob of the thruster–a silver ball–over and over in his hand. He only told you recently that it was Grogu’s favorite thing to steal from him.

Your eyes danced over the section of green bracelets. Some were too dark, some too vibrant, others were just ugly. Finally, your gaze landed on the bracelet.

A fine, light green thread, you assumed somewhat close to Grogu’s color, was intertwined with thicker silver and brown threads. Light green and silver streaked across the rough brown surface of the bracelet. It reminded you of light streaking across the windshield of the Crest while in hyperspace.

This was the one.

Sifting through the different sizes you picked out one in your size and one you guessed would fit Mando. The bracelets were adjustable and hopefully that would help if you got Mando the wrong size. Setting the bracelets down to sift through your pockets for credits, you looked up at a weathered sign displaying the prices.

PRICES

1 bracelet = 15 credits

2 = 30 credits

3 = 45 credits

4 = 60 credits

As you reached into your pockets and retrieved your last credits you realized you didn’t have enough. Only twenty five credits sat in your palm. Not in the mood to haggle with the vendor about the price, your shoulders dropped and you returned the bracelets to their original places.

You checked your watch. One hour left until you met back up with Mando. Making it from one end of the market to the other took forty five minutes, so you figured you could take the scenic route back to the meet up point. Getting to see the new sights could cheer you up after not being able to afford the gift you wanted to get for Mando.

Walking up on a familiar intersection, you opted to take a right this time instead of a left. The path on the right was much more…interesting…than the path on the left. One vendor sold exotic pets. The next sold potions that promised to give the consumer various effects. The next stall was not a stall, it was a large establishment.

The establishment stood tall amongst the surrounding stalls. Solid brick walls were painted a dull gray. A sign with old, faded letters was centered on the front wall between two windows. The tall windows of the building were heavily tinted. Shadows of different figures danced across the glass. Some bodies were indistinguishable from the ones they were next to. Music blared from inside, but it barely covered the sounds of moans and the slapping of skin on skin.

Looking up, front and center on the building reads: BROTHEL

Brothels weren’t a common occurrence on the supply runs you’ve been on, but you suppose the service was in demand. You shrugged and walked past the gray building. The moving bodies in the windows almost allowed your vision to gloss over him.

Tall. Broad. Covered in beskar. A black T shaped visor gazing down at a man.

At first you froze in shock. Was this the business Mando had to attend to? The one that, “didn’t require your presence”? You never pictured the Mandalorian to be a man that required services like these, but he is a man nonetheless.

A soft breeze sent goosebumps down your arms towards your fingertips. Realizing you’re out in the open, you ducked into an empty market stall. A gap in the wood planks making up the stall’s sides gave you a clear view of Mando’s encounter with the mystery man.

The man was in all black with a silver name tag on his chest. By Mando’s serious demeanor you could tell that the conversation was strictly business. The Mandalorian’s helmet tilted in question at the man and Mando pulled out a pen and pad to write on. From the man’s stance and close position to the building you could tell he was the bouncer, plus the presence of a name tag.

The bouncer pulled out an identical pad and began to speak. You couldn’t hear a word they exchanged, but you could tell Mando was writing down a list. A finger on the bouncer’s hand came up everytime he stated something else from his list. Mando jotted down a few things, closed his pad, and returned it to a pocket in his suit.

Then he reached into a different pocket, pulled out a sizable amount of credits, and handed them to the bouncer.

Did he just buy a night at the brothel?

Your heart dropped to your stomach. Blood rushed towards your head and your vision slightly blurred. You felt stupid. You fell for a guy, pretty much your boss, you don’t even know what he looks like, and he didn’t like you back. You were even going to buy you and him matching bracelets. Breaths exited your mouth in stutters. The realization of how naive you were radiated throughout your being. Mando was just being nice to you. He managed to warm up to you. That’s it.

But you were also so confused. What were the fleeting touches in the Crest? The gifts he gave you after trips to the market? The early morning and late evening conversations? Feelings bubbled up from your stomach and started to seep out of your body in the form of tears.

You spent a year getting to know this man. Kriff, it took you a couple months before he started replying to you in full sentences. No one else has experienced Mando like this. You didn’t want anyone else to see his ungloved hands, the rolling muscles of his back in just a t-shirt, the way the helmet softly shook from side to side when he heard a bad joke. Those small, “Goodnight”s, are yours. The modulated chuckles are yours. The way he makes a cup of caf for you on most mornings. That’s yours.

Of course Mando wasn’t yours, but jealousy managed to seep into your bones regardless.

Zoning back into the situation, you realized Mando started walking back in the direction towards the meet up point. Scrambling to get to your feet, you jumped over the wall of the empty stall and made your way back

—

Upon seeing the size of the bag you carried, Mando slipped it from your grasp and into his. He stuffed a small piece of paper, a receipt, into the bag before swinging it onto his shoulder.

The walk back to the Razor Crest lacked conversation. Sounds of crunching ground underneath your shoes echoed in your ears. Mando followed your lead and kept the trek speechless.

The Razor Crest steadily became larger and larger on the horizon. Once orange, brown, and red mountain ranges were now painted in hues of pink and purple. Colors of the rocky formations reflected off of the Razor Crest.

You bounded up the ramp as soon as it was lowered. Mando followed suit and began to empty the bag of its contents. Each item fell onto the middle of the hull’s floor.

Bacta. Medkits. Flight suit. Soap. Rations.

The beskar man dug around in the bag for a second more and retrieved a handful of receipts.

“Here,” he said as he handed them to you, “I know you like to look them over.”

Your stomach flipped at the thoughtfulness. Reaching your hand out, his gloveless fingers brushed yours in the handing off of the receipts. After they were straightened out you began to look through them.

First receipt, bacta and medkits.

Second receipt, rations and soap.

Third receipt, flight suit.

Fourth receipt.

Wait. Fourth receipt?

Your eyes scanned the lines of the flimsy paper. The date was from today, so it wasn’t old. But you didn’t visit the vendor listed on the receipt. Pupils skipping a few lines, you read the items purchased.

ITEMS PURCHASED (1)

CONDOM - 12 PACK

For the second time today you froze. Blood rushed up towards your head as your vision blurred.

He really just bought a night with a worker at the brothel.

From the little details you had, you tried to make sense of the scene you stumbled across earlier in the night. Mando talked to the bouncer, probably asked who was working that night, wrote down the workers he was interested in, and paid for a night with one of them. I mean, what else could you possibly be talking with a brothel bouncer about? The weather?

Good thing you didn’t buy those bracelets.

PART TWO

#pedro pascal #din djarin fanfic #din djarin #din djarin fic #din djarin fluff #din djarin smut #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x you #din x reader #mando fanfic #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #mando x reader #mando smut #mando fluff #supply run #thepascalofus #thepascalofus fic

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 10 months

Note

Hi can you write like a small one-shot where thor sneaks the reader into Asgard to surprise loki for Christmas and because she needs to tell him that shes pregnant

.⋆｡The Things He Left Behind｡⋆.

Loki x plus size reader

Pregnancy announcements can be terrifying even for regular people but with your baby daddy being a Frost Giant, god, a criminal and someone who has pretty much implied he doesn’t want kids, you have a long uphill battle. Oh, and it’s Christmas

Warnings: pregnancy, fear of rejection, fluff, brief mentions of morning sickness and nausea, implied smut, tiny bit of angst

WC: 2.7k

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

Being pregnant was an interesting phenomenon; a person was growing inside of you, someone who would grow up to be their own adult. You knew logically that at only a couple months along, the baby was simply a clump of cells that would eventually mature into something new. But already, you were so attached to the life that could be.

Normally, something so monumental as being pregnant with a child born from love between life partners would be celebrated, but your heart was filled with dread and fear. The relationship you had was rocky at best, not in terms of love, there was plenty of that, but because he was a criminal and a dangerous one at that.

It was a punishment for his crimes. He was to be kept on Earth, stuck with the men and women he had attempted to rule. You met him by chance, accidentally bumping into the striking god as you were rushing to attend a meeting on behalf of your boss. As you fell to the floor, you caught his eyes and something shifted within you as it did within him.

Your love had been secret, growing in the darkness of the dead of night, in shadowy corridors and empty rooms. Your soul ached for him as if he held a piece of you in his cold hands, never to be returned. You were his just as much as he was yours and for a time, that was enough.

But as the months carried on, the looming threat of his inevitable departure became monstrous. There was no changing his fate, he would have to leave and you both knew that your pleas and your begging for him to stay would fall on deaf ears. So on his last night with you, he slipped from the not-so-watchful eyes of Earth’s greatest heroes and stole you away.

He took you to Paris, lavishing you with gifts that you still held sacred to this day. He worshipped you with everything he had, taking you apart over and over again until the cold light of day washed over your naked bodies and he was forced to leave your bed in handcuffs.

But jewels and books were not the only things he left you.

The exhaustion came first, then the extreme tenderness of your breasts, and lastly, the dreaded morning sickness. Your boss, Maria Hill, was the first to broach the issue with you after you had fallen asleep at your desk one too many times. She shoved the box of tests into your hand, telling you it was ok and that she knew but didn’t judge.

Now, as the first snow of the year began to fall and your stomach was beginning to round out, you approached the one man who could help you. “Thor?” His eyes met yours from over the back of the huge leather sofa. A pop-tart crumb hung on the corner of his lips which fell off as soon as he smiled when he saw you.

“Ah! My brother’s love! How are you on this fine day?” You chuckled humorlessly and decided to indulge the god for a bit before asking him a favour which might get him into some serious trouble.

“I’m doing ok, looking forward to Christmas.” You nervously shuffled on your feet, the modest kitten heels you had been forced to wear because of your aching feet, clicking against the dark hardwood flooring. Even with his deep confusion regarding human behaviour, Thor could see how anxious you were.

He shifted forward and rose from the couch then turned to you. “There is something amiss, what is it?”

“You need to get me to Asgard. I have to see Loki.” He froze as a bewildered look came over his face.

“I cannot do that my lady. Even I am not allowed to visit my brother and he is, well he is my little brother. Odin has ordered him to be isolated from everyone as his-“

“I’m pregnant!” You blurted out, interrupting the god. “I’m pregnant with Loki’s baby.” Thor’s body physically seized as the weight of your words hit him. His blue eyes went wide with shock, and if you weren’t mistaken, maybe a little bit of excitement.

Tentatively, he inched closer to you. Like a puppy, he was vibrating with nerves. “Really!” Unable to help yourself, you smiled at your friend.

“Really really.” Your hand came to rest on the soft fat above your womb. “But Thor, Loki needs to know. And I need help, I don’t know how a human body will handle growing a half-Frost Giant demigod.”

“Yes.” He agreed. “Yes! We must bring you back home and then we can fix all of this.” Thor looked frazzled as he righted himself in front of you. “Mother will have some idea of what to do and I’m sure she will be able to sneak you into the prison.” Before you could realise what was happening, Thor had swept you into his muscular arms and was running through the compound.

“Thor! We can’t go now! I need to get my things!” You bounced with every step he took and you clung to his shirt.

Thor shook his head. “I can bring you new things, we must get you home.” The winter air hit you like a slap in the face as the god bounded outside, not even flinching at the drastic change in temperature. “Just hold tight my friend, you will be with your beloved soon enough!”

——————

Asgard was completely overwhelming and as you walked through the golden streets, arm linked with Thor’s, you finally understood why Loki spoke so ill of the place. Each and every person you passed carried an air of smug superiority about them, even as they bent in a shallow bow or curtsy to their prince. They were gods, perfect beings who had conquered worlds and existed for thousands of years in peace.

The huge palace drew closer and your hold tightened around Thor. You had the distinct urge to hold your belly for comfort, to know that part of Loki was still with you, but you were scared of the judgemental gazes of the beautiful people around you. “We are almost there my friend. I will take you straight to the Allmother.”

He patted your hand kindly. “Everyone here is scarily beautiful.” You mutter under your breath but evidently he heard you.

“Then you will fit right in.” He murmured back as you stepped over the threshold to his childhood home. The ornate walls towered over you both, sealing you into a place you should have never been. The gold is almost blinding, coating pretty much every surface as far as the eye could see.

You cringed at the loudness of your small heels against the floor, the sound echoing through the great halls like a drum. Your fingers curled into Thor’s warm skin. He glanced down at you but your eyes were fixed straight ahead, oblivious to his gaze. He just started walking faster, unable to find the words to comfort you.

The smell of lilies invaded your senses, turning your stomach. Your nausea had settled after your first trimester ended but apparently the baby just didn’t like flowers. The smell steadily became stronger, as did the urge to throw up but by the time you reached a set of dark oak doors, your nerves were far more overpowering.

Before Thor could even raise his fist to knock, the doors swung inwards, revealing a bright but homey room absolutely bursting with colour. An older woman stood in the entryway, dressed simply in a flowing green dress, her dark blonde hair braided back simply. Her eyes lit up with a knowing light. “My Thor.” She cooed, easily accepting a crushing hug from the god before she turned to you.

“I have been waiting to meet you for a very long time my dear.” She said plainly and suddenly all your nerves were gone. Your grimace floated into a smile as her arms wrapped around you in a hug so loving it made your chest burn with affection.

Unable to stop yourself, you nuzzle into her safe embrace, your whole body relaxing. She laid a kiss to your temple before pulling away but her hands remained firmly on your shoulders. “Loki has told me all about you, he will be happy to see you.”

Anxiety returned like a tidal wave, washing away the warm feeling your almost mother-in-law gave you. Your smile dimmed while your hands came to rest on your lower stomach. “He might not be as excited when he learns why I’m here.”

Frigg’s hands move to cup your rounded cheeks, forcing you to meet her eyes. “He loves you and he will love the child. Even if it doesn’t seem that way at first. Now let us make sure you and the little one are fed and healthy and then you can see him.” She took you by your left hand and guided you further into the room as Thor, with a huge smile on his face, left the two of you alone to talk.

——————

Christmas was vastly different on Asgard, you learned quickly. There was no snow, no cold, no carols or quiet nights. It mainly consisted of feasts and celebrations that lasted for days. But what was the same were the gifts. Thousands were exchanged through the festivities and Thor had somehow gotten into his head that you were the gift he was going to give to his estranged brother.

Much to his own and his mother’s amusement, he ripped up a piece of fabric and tied it in a bow around your midsection. “Come now! He will love it!” You just huffed and rolled your eyes but allowed him to continue making small adjustments to the bow.

Frigg sat on one of the many couches in her chambers, sipping on a now mostly cold cup of tea as she laughed at the pair of you. A large weight had been lifted from the room now that the healer had confirmed the baby was healthy and growing as they should.

And now, a warmth grew within you. This was what you wanted, a loving family with the man who had so easily snatched up your heart. All of the material things he had left behind were nothing compared to this moment.

As the sun began to set over the great city, you were bundled up in a thick cloak that disguised you well and led you down to the prison. The guards turned their heads as who they assumed was the queen passed by on her nightly visit to her younger son. They knew it was technically not allowed by the king but it stopped the dark prince from destroying his cell every chance he got, so they just let it happen.

His cage was kept far away from the others, isolated for his crimes, even from those who faced the same harsh punishments. Yet he was given luxuries that none of the others were afforded, Loki assumed it was pity from his adoptive family that drove them to decorate the small room with lavish goods.

From the angle at which you entered his part of the prison, you could clearly see your love without him seeing you. You felt like crying. He was so close, you swore if you reached out just a few inches, you could touch him.

Loki was sitting on the ground, his back to you, as he stared off into space. His hair, normally clean and beautifully styled, fell in front of his face in unruly raven waves, partially hiding his paler than normal skin. He was barefoot and wearing clothes that should have been changed days ago.

Your heart lurched at the sight of him. In the months you had known him, you had never seen the god so… broken. And you supposed that’s what he was. He had been tortured and betrayed, cast aside by the only people he had known as his family before being labelled a criminal and thrown away to rot. Tears blurred your vision before you quickly wiped them away with a sniffle.

“I have told you that I do not want to see anyone mother.” He hissed, letting his head fall back against the enchanted glass as he did so.

“I had hoped that you would make an exception for me.” Your voice was weak but just the sound alone caused his whole body to freeze.

Slowly, almost cautiously, he rose to his feet, turning on his heel to face you. As soon as his eyes met yours, his body visibly fell and his face disappeared behind his hands. “Loki?” A heartbreaking sob ripped from his lungs as he collapsed to his knees.

Panic set your veins alight and with a trembling hand, you used the small magic key Frigg had bestowed upon you to enter the cell. You wasted no time, immediately taking him into your arms for the first time in months.

His face burrowed into the crook of your neck as he wound around you. He shook in your embrace, his tears soaking through your clothes as he cried, holding onto you as tight as you could. You placed kiss after kiss to his head in a vain attempt to sooth him as you succumbed to your own emotions.

“Are you really here?” You tried to answer him through the tears but all you could get out was more of a grunt than a word but you nodded against his hair and squeezed him even tighter. “H-how?”

Loki pulled away from you just enough to meet your gaze. His eyes were bloodshot, making the blue of his irises even more striking. “Thor and your mother.” You managed to stammer out.

There was a brief moment of silence as his dark brow furrowed in what you assumed to be confusion. His gaze dropped down to your body, still hidden by the thick cloak, then looked around the cell as if searching for someone. “Who else is here? I sense another presence.”

“That's why I came here.” You gently guided his left hand down to your bump that seemed to grow each day, laying his palm flat against your stomach. “I’m pregnant.”

Loki’s breath caught, his eyes going wide. And he flinched.

Immediately, you were consumed by the fear you had tried so hard to tamp down since the first moment you saw that little plus sign on the test. He didn’t want the baby, he didn’t want you. This whole thing was a mistake, your mind screamed at you. But as your muscles tensed like you were preparing to run, Loki snapped out of it.

The world blurred around you and suddenly you were laying on a small bed in the corner, Loki hovering over you. His lean body slid easily between your soft thighs, pinning you to the surprisingly comfortable mattress with his weight. “My love. You’re truly with child?” His voice shook, his hand returning to your stomach.

“26 weeks as of yesterday and perfectly healthy.” He nodded and met your gaze once more, a small smile growing on his pallid lips.

“I had a feeling. I thought- I thought something happened to you but it was just a new life being formed.” You breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed against the bed.

“And how would you know that?” You cooed, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Darling just because I have been locked away doesn’t mean that I can’t still use my magic.” His hand slipped up your front, obviously intending to go for your swollen breast but he paused at the extra piece of fabric that was now laying around your waist. “What is this?”

You responded with a giggle. “A bow. Thor wanted to give me to you for Christmas.” A fond look came over his face then, a realisation that you were not yet privy to.

“Indeed this is the best gift he could have ever given me.” Then for the first time in six months, he kissed you.

And as he stripped away your clothes and made love to you more tenderly than ever before, you couldn’t help but agree- this was the best gift to ever have been given

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chiefdirector · 5 months

Text

Discovering | Tim Bradford | The Rookie

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Tim could feel the blood pounding through his veins, the sound reverberated through him. Each pump seemed to get louder and louder. Each thud was felt in his chest. He looked down only to find his hands were shaking beyond his control. If he hadn't drawn his attention away from his heartbeat, he wouldn't have noticed the tremors, or the people rushing around him as he stayed frozen to his spot.

Harper and West were getting equipment. Nolan and Chen were to one side, discussing something that Tim couldn't hear. Grey and the Captain whose name Bradford hadn't bothered to learn were to the other side of the room, silently watching the rest of the station prepare to go into the unknown.

The files that had been given out in the briefing yesterday had instructed each team on what their assignment was. Harper would be going with Nolan to check out the safehouse that was assigned to (Y/N)’s operation to see if there was anything that could hint to her current location. Lopez was to head back to interrogation to attempt to get Williamson to give up any more information. Chen was staying behind with him to review everything from the beginning.

“Hey,” Chen said, bringing Tim’s mind back to him, “Grey is waiting for us in the conference room. Are you ready?”

“Yeah, lead the way.”

-----

“So, from the beginning, Detective Bradford started her undercover operation two years ago on the 5th of May. She last checked in with us on the 17th of May, and was declared legally M.I.A on the 23rd of May.” Sargent Grey said, sticking a post-it note to the left side of the board at the top of the room. He continued sticking post-its as he spoke. “The initial investigation turned up little but her gun was found in the assigned safehouse alongside a bottle of her medication.”

“According to Williamson, he saw her for the last time shortly after that. He turned on her a few days after they went M.I.A. But she didn't know, or she wanted to play it cool because she kept in contact via burner phone semi-regularly.” Chen said, looking down at the notes in front of her.

Tim’s head snapped to face his rookie “Was that when you spoke to him privately, or was this in interrogation?”

“When we were alone.”

“Text Lopez, get him to confess to it on record. If not, it's not solid enough to go from.”

“Tim’s right, Chen, but it's helpful nonetheless.” Grey sighed, “From then on it's pretty rocky. We have a few civilian sightings but nothing concrete. She stayed away from CCTV and any heavily policed areas. She knew to stay hidden. Which doesn’t help us, but we now know that it was intentional. WIlliamson said he spoke to her less than two weeks ago, she was near the Mexican border in Arizona.”

“Does the border patrol know to look out for her?”

“The Captain is alerting them now, as well as local police departments. The FBI has also been told of this development due to the crossing of state lines. They have agreed to give manpower as needed but let’s hope we can keep this in house.”

“So what now? We have barely anything to go from?” Chen tentatively said, trying not to provoke any reaction from her T.O with her words.

“We wait for Lopez to finish her interview with Williamson and then we will make a plan.”

-----

“He seemed to realise he was in a lot of trouble and asked for a lawyer pretty quickly.” Lopez said as she walked into the room, “I did, however, manage to get him to reveal the names of his employers in a trade for a letter from the Watch Commander stating his cooperation to whatever judge he gets assigned.”

Grey nodded his head before prompting Angela to continue.

“I had another Detective look up the names he gave. As expected they are tied to all sorts of crimes; drug distribution, embezzlement, fraud, unlawful use of a lethal weapon. And those are the ones I can remember off the top of my head. However, there is also good news, none of them seem to have a history with kidnapping or anything more extreme, or at least anything that has been reported.”

“And we want to keep it that way, so we will have to be extremely careful with what we do next.” Grey said, moving towards the door to go brief the Captain about their discovery and to start to make a plan of action

“Yeah, but there is one more thing he said before lawyering up.”

“What is it?”

“That we shouldn't waste the manpower on finding (Y/N). He said that she wasn’t the one they wanted to hurt but she was used to punish other people. Her vanishing was only a means to an end.”

Tim could hear his heart begin to pound in his ears once again. He breathed in, then out, then in again. If she wasn't their target, then who was? And if she was only a pawn in their game to hurt somebody else, then what else would they do to ensure their target would suffer. How many more lives had been ruined by these monsters, and how many more would suffer a similar fate to the ones that had gone before them?

“Who were they trying to hurt?” Tim ran his hands through his hair as the question unintentionally tumbled out from him. “Did he give a name?”

“Yeah, that's the thing…” Angela let the words trail off as she tried to compose herself. Tim watched as she took a deep breath. “Williamson claimed that the cartel they were hunting threatened (Y/N) into silence with photos of her loved ones to make you vulnerable.”

“I dont… I dont understand.”

“You were the one they wanted to punish, Tim. This is about you, it always has been.”

Part Three | Part Five

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Tags: @xceafh @kmc1989

Tags are open :)

#tim bradford imagine #tim bradford x reader #tim bradford #the rookie imagine #the rookie #chiefdirector #bottom of the river

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baek-at-it-again95 · 1 year

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Deja Vu (Spiderman! Yunho x reader)

Synopsis: It had been three weeks since you saw him. The masked stranger that seemed to appear out of nowhere, protecting your city from crime. The people of the town call him Spiderman, and he has plagued your mind day and night since he saved you.

Warnings: violence, very brief mention of a near death experience, sort of suggestive but not really, I do not know anything about chemistry so please forgive me

Concepts: best friend yunho x reader, ex choi san, angst, fluff, romance, comfort

A/N: hello beautiful atinys! A lovely friend of mine had this genius idea that I had to bring to life. we were totally not inspired by a tiktok edit. It has very similar plot points to the original spiderman movies. I hope you enjoy! <3

"But...who do you think he is?" you ask your best friend, Yunho. He holds the door open for you as you leave your chemistry class together.

"Who knows...but you worry about Spiderman more than you worry about yourself these days, Y/N."

"What can I do?" you ask, throwing your hands up haphazardly. "I almost died falling off a building. That's kind of traumatic, Yunho. Might as well talk about the guy who save me." He sighs, running a hand through his hair.

"I understand. Stay out of trouble, will you? I worry about you being out and about on your own. Hell, I worry something's happened to you when you don't respond to my texts within a five minute window."

"Clingy much?" you tease, knowing how much of an overthinker your best friend is.

"N-not in like a weird way!" Yunho sputters, dragging a hand down his face in embarrassment. "You're my best friend, Y/N. It's my job to be worried about you. Besides...who else am I going to study chemistry with?" He shoots you his usually goofy grin and you laugh.

"Not me, you know I hate this class!"

"Oh come on, you're the only person that will listen to me talk about it."

"I guess that's my job in this friendship." You shrug. "I will say, it's just so sexy the way you talk about ionic compounds. I can never stop listening." You snort.

"Good to know," he retorts, grabbing your backpack to keep you from running into people on the way to your next class. "Study at the usual spot tonight?" he asks.

You laugh. "I'll be there, sexy."

***

The past few weeks after the incident have been rocky for you, and since you made it halfway through this week without any issue, it gave you a false sense of hope that things could be back to normal.

But no. As if your night couldn't get any worse...

About thirty minutes ago, your boyfriend, Choi San, told you that he wants to take a break from the relationship. You know your relationship has been strained recently, but you thought that it would just pass with time. Maybe it's for the better, but for now, your emotions are still high. Oh, and you found out that you bombed your chem test earlier today. And as if that wasn't terrible enough, the icing on the cake was that it had started pouring on your walk home.

At least no one can see my tears in the rain, you think to yourself, head down as you walk to your dorm.

"Y/N?"

You sniff, quickly wiping at your face on instinct. When you look up, you come face to face with Jeong Yunho. You muster up the best smile you can to greet him, praying he doesn't ask any questions. If you have to answer anything about your miserable day, you'll surely crack and start crying even harder. "Hey Yuyu." His eyebrows crease with worry, and you think he might have caught on to something.

"You're going to get sick out here," he comments.

You breathe a small sigh of relief. "No worries. I'm almost home, anyways. No use in calling for a taxi. But...what are you doing out, Yunho?"

"Oh, well I...um...I accidentally fell asleep at the library."

"Again?" you ask.

"Again," he confirms, hands in his pockets and eyes on his feet.

"Well, let's get home quickly. God, I can't wait to be out of these clothes," you groan, the wet fabric sticking to every part of you and making you uncomfortable. You just barely catch the soft pink of Yunho's cheeks in the low light of the street lamps. "Look, you're already getting sick. Go, hurry home," you push, shooing him away.

"I'm going, I'm going. Goodnight, Y/N."

"Night, Yuyu."

You continue on in the direction of your dorm, eyes on the ground as you make a sad attempt not to splash in deep puddles. The walk seems to drag on longer than usual as you're left alone again with your thoughts.

"Hey!" A voice rings immediately after you turn the corner. It sounded like it came from across the street. You don't stop, just turn to glance at what's going on. That's when you see about four men, dressed in black, walking towards you. You quicken your pace, heart beating rapidly in your chest as you hear the men moving closer. You turn down an alley in hopes of losing them, but they're too fast.

"Hey sweetheart, give us your bag and we'll leave you alone."

"Wait!" you call out. Your thoughts run at a million miles per hour, trying to process the entire situation that occurred in what felt like seconds.

"Or not." Another one chimes in, laughing. You barely have time to process anything as one of them pushes you, shoving the side of your body into the wall. You cry out, closing your eyes and bracing yourself for another hit.

But after a moment, nothing comes.

You hear some shuffling and some shouts in front of you. Lowering your hands from their protective position in front of your face, you open your eyes, seeing one of the men running away. What is happening? As he runs, a force pulls him back quickly. He's pulled by...a rope? No, a web. Spiderman appears right before your eyes, kicking the man to the ground. The criminal scoots back, turning and running away in the direction he and the others came. Spiderman then quickly disappears around the corner.

When you turn to leave, he's right in front of you, hanging upside down from a web. A small gasp escapes your lips.

"You seem to be a danger magnet," he comments.

"It seems so. I suppose you're dangerous, then?"

"No, quite the opposite." You smile.

"There must be some way to thank you," you wonder aloud, taking a step closer. You bring your hands to his face, hesitating as your fingertips touch the hem of his mask.

"Wait," he starts. But he doesn't say anything more. You gently pull the mask up until it stops just over his nose.

"Thank you." You gently bring your lips to his. The kiss is slow and passionate, so lovely that you don't want it to end. But that would be against your better judgement. It's getting late, and he must have other things to attend to. You pull away just slightly, slowly pulling the mask back over his face. And with that, he shoots a web and swings up into the air, gone as quickly as he came.

***

"Y/N."

"Mm."

"Y/N," Yunho repeats, waving a hand in front of your face. "Are you okay?"

"I had possibly the worst night ever last night. So, no, not really," you reply curtly.

"What happened?"

"Where do I even begin? Oh, for starters, San and I are taking a break," you huff, continuing before he can insert his words of pity. "Which is basically inescapable relationship purgatory. Then I found out I bombed our chem test, got poured on, and after running into you, I almost got jumped." You choose to withhold the information about Spiderman, still trying to wrap your head around your interaction with him.

"Y/N, that's awful," he replies, concern etched on every inch of his face.

"Yeah, it was, Yunho."

"Are you sure you're alright enough to be at school right now?"

"Yep. I pay for this school, so it makes me feel better when I come to class, even if I don't pay attention. Plus, it's Friday. I can push through until the weekend." He looks like he has more to say, but he just nods.

"Do you want to stay at my place tonight?" he asks suddenly. You look at him curiously. Sure, you've been to your best friend's apartment, but only to study or to pick up something before heading out somewhere. You've never stayed the night. "N-not like, I mean...we can just hang. Maybe it will help you take your mind off things. And you'll be safe," he adds.

"A sleepover? With my bestie? How could I say no?" Yunho smiles his adorable smile in response, and you can't help but think about how sweet he is. You haven't exactly returned his kindness lately with everything going on, and maybe you can talk to him about it at his place...at least give him some sort of apology.

***

"That's so you!" says Yunho, pointing at a character in the movie he put on.

"Absolutely not!" you exclaim, throwing a piece of popcorn at him.

"Ah, not nice!" he laughs, grabbing your wrist. Your smile falters and he lets go as soon as he notices. "I'm sorry, did I hurt you?" he asks worriedly.

"No, no, it's okay. I just...I remembered I needed to talk to you about something." He tilts his head, looking at you like an innocent puppy.

"Oh, what is it?" His tone is soft, with maybe a hint of nervousness.

"I just...I've been so in my head recently that I feel like I haven't been involved with you. All the time, you check on my wellbeing, and I forget to check on yours. I mean, when was the last time I asked how your life was going? You offer me nothing but kindness, and I have not returned it to you. And I'm really sorry, Yunho."

"Y/N, it's not like that," he assures gently. "I understand that you've been through a lot of stressful things recently. It's only human that you would react negatively to these stressors. I just want you to know that I'm here for you. No one is perfect, and no one's life is absent of hardships. People need guidance; they need care. People need stability in a time when their life is thrown off balance. Just know that I will be that stability for you, Y/N."

"Yunho—" you choke out, the all-too-familiar burning sensation in your throat as you fight back tears.

"Oh, don't cry." He glances around nervously, not really sure how to comfort you.

You laugh through your tears. "I just...what did I do to deserve you?" You practically knock him over as you crash your lips onto his, relaxing into his arms. Your kiss slow and passionate; warm and comforting. It's blissful, and it seems...oddly familiar. But you've never kissed your best friend before. Maybe in a dream? Your ex surely didn't kiss like this. You gently pull away from him, eyebrows scrunched.

"What?" Yunho asks, scanning your face.

"I just...got deja vu," you mumble.

"Strange." Yunho shrugs, pulling you back into a kiss. You push away again and giggle as he tries to chase your lips. The familiar feeling is still present. The only person you've kissed like this is....

The thought that pops into your head seems so unbelievable, so embarrassing that you don't dare give too much away in fear of being wrong.

"You're...him?" you whisper.

"Who?" he asks with big eyes, a smile tugging at his lips.

"You know who!"

"No, I don't know what you're talking about, Y/N." It feels as if he's teasing you. You groan out of frustration, not wanting to be wrong about such an outlandish idea. Yunho suddenly tenses a bit, setting you gently on the couch as he gets up.

"Well...perfect timing. Something's going on downtown," he says, disappearing into his room. You watch with a confused look until he emerges, clad in the familiar blue and red suit, mask in hand. Even though you had just made the connection...it didn't seem real. Your breath catches in your throat as you watch him.

"You just told me you knew. Why are you all shocked?" he asks.

"I didn't know I was right," you manage. Your nerdy best friend? A superhero that fights crime? Unbelievable. Yunho slides a window open before he looks back to you.

"I'll be back in a few, okay?" You nod, coming over to him.

"Okay. Be safe." You peck his lips before he puts on his mask, climbing out the window. He leaps off the balcony and your heart practically stops, only to start back up again as you see him swinging on his webs from building to building. "Oh my god," you mutter to yourself, running a hand down your face.

You have a lot of things to say when he gets back. Starting with the fact that this was way sexier than ionic compounds.

#jeong yunho #ateez au #spiderman #ateez x reader #yunho x reader #spiderman au #ateez fic #spiderman yunho #kang yeosang #song mingi #jung wooyoung #kim hongjoong #park seonghwa #choi jongho #choi san #yunho month #ateez reader insert #ateez

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34saveme34 · 1 month

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ok ok ok ok ok ok ok ok

light tiny theory

what if 3 didn't hug 4 in Perfect bc he was still holding back

like not (just) feelings wise but because he still had that feeling in the back of his mind that he doesn't deserve it

I mean just before it, from his perspective, we would see Mario and Meggy hugging 4. It almost makes it feel like he would just be looking at them like an outsider (maybe admiring 4 but that's just my personal opinion)

and then 4 lightly teasing him about all the things he said

basically 3 was like, professing his undying Totally platonic love to him, of course he like has to address him

but 3 just wanted to stay out of it, hoping that maybe it won't be brought up and they can just focus on exiting the castle

but noooo, 4 had to take notice of it so gaily aauaohidhosdkljd-

it genuinely feels that way, like 3 wants to do great things for 4 and really really be there for him but afraid of the confrontation from him, which yknow- even more so adds to the idea that he's having a gay little crush on him

like they already kind of made up by that point, maybe not fully but they weren't the enemies they once were, so the idea of him staying distant because of being a villain is like, almost baseless

villain is a role and he's not filling that anymore, it's more accurate to call him an anti hero or just a little evil little guy who will do pity crimes against you. He would mug you earlier than take over the world

but yeah that really only leaves that- even then, he was so scared of 4 rejecting him

he was just avoiding it better than

but with like, trash friends well- you know-

if anything, I hope the current saga to end with 3 truly like, confiding in 4, trust him enough to be able to be weak with him in a way that's more sincere than anything he ever said, even more honest than he was in Trash Friends bc in my opinion that was just the start of it all

that's something I hope for the possible near future, even if we don't get them together, they really have to reconcile and- I think that's what those episodes with them have been setting up. Their rocky yet intense and close relationship meeting an especially big hard ship and it's on them to solve it or let it go to ruin and ruin each other along with it

#smg4 #smg34 #rambling #why is this post so long again #oops lol

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strrwbrrryjam · 3 months

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the comparisons you can make between arthur and micah to me are very interesting, because, while arthur and micah can not be more different to one another, they both have very similar upbringings.

being an outlaw is all the two of them have ever known, arthur's mother died when he was a baby and he was raised by his outlaw father, a man that from the little we get about him, we can infer was a cruel bastard, not just to civilians, but to arthur also, as we get a piece of dialogue that tells us that arthur isn't sad about his father's death, he's only upset at the fact that it wasn't soon enough (during the famous "i'm afraid" monologue), which implies that the relationship between the two was at the very least, rocky or just downright abusive and that arthur is glad that his father is dead.

after his father has been hung, he's been left on his own for a while, pickpocketing simply to survive, travelling from town to town when he inevitably gets caught and is then picked up by dutch and (a reluctant) hosea.

with micah, however, we get no mention of his mother, whether this is because she died when micah was born, or she isn't important to micah's story, who knows. but what we do know is that he too, like arthur, was an outlaw with his father, except the two seem to have had a very different dynamic to arthur and lyle. the two had a "partner in crime" dynamic rather than an "abusive outlaw father raises son he doesn't love to be an outlaw" (likely out of, i don't know, love for his mother and it being one of her last wishes for him to take care of her son - it could also have been just "no son of mine is going to be a sissy" since i believe neither dutch nor hosea taught arthur how to draw and he just has a natural talent for it) dynamic. micah and his father worked hand in hand with one another, which ultimately led to the homicide of roscoe and jean brings.

we don't exactly get an exact timeline of micah's upbringing (we don't get one for arthur either) but i can assume that the reason micah's father isn't around anymore is that after the homicide, he ended up being caught and hung - which led to micah and amos (micah's brother) being outlaws together out of loyalty for their deceased father until amos ended up repenting, marrying a woman, having three daughters and promising to murder micah if he ever steps foot into california.

micah continues being an outlaw, creating his own (1st attempt) gang with cleet, joe and likely a man named norman, attempting a bank robbery and ultimately failing. maybe he ventures off on his own, falling out with the three men, blaming each other for the failed back robbery, who knows.

it's kind of, insane, thinking about it. the two have been outlaws since they were young but even then the two of them were very different outlaws - arthur had likely kept to petty thievery, while micah had graduated to homicide with his father as a young man, arthur and lyle had a relationship where lyle often mistreated arthur, while micah bell III and micah bell II were almost equals in a way, despite being father and son. it's interesting to see how their upbringing shaped them as men, where micah thrives on cruelty and arthur, while good at it, seems to prefer less violent methods but will resort to violence when he deems it necessary.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 arthur morgan #arthur morgan #rdr2 micah bell #micah bell #strawberry speaks

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vendetta-if · 1 year

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What are the ROs, Luka, Jackal, Viktor, and Grandpa' opinion on the movie Goncharov (1973)?

Scorsese’s Goncharov (1973). A classic, undoubtedly one of the best mafia movies ever made😩

Ash

Watched it with MC and Luka. Thinks it’s pretty neat, doesn’t really care too much about the imageries and symbolisms, but loves its thrilling story and the tragedy. If MC likes it, then they have no problem with it 👍🏻 Also, they probably won’t admit this but their favorite character from the movie is ‘Ice Pick Joe’.

Rin

They enjoy it and approve of how Scorsese didn’t shy away from the gritty and violent portrayal of the world of organized crime.

Santana

Sadly has never watched it yet. Has heard of it, of course. They just have never been a huge movie enthusiast. Maybe your MC will be able to make them watch the movie with them? 🤔

Skylar

Watched it and loved it. The frames are well shot and as always with most of Scorsese’s movies, the acting by the actors are phenomenal. Not to mention, the drama and the tragic romance. Oof, Skylar can’t get enough of it 😩

Luka

Luka is kinda a film buff and he really loves it. Still thinks it’s one of Scorsese’s best works yet (yes, even better than ‘Taxi Driver’). Can talk and discuss about the imageries or just the scenes of the movie for hours! Don’t let him catch you saying that you haven’t watched Goncharov (1973) yet!

Jackal

Jackal is a victim of letting Luka hear that you have never watched Goncharov (1973) yet! Well, Luka has often invited Jackal to come watch some classic films together, so no big problem.

Here’s a snippet of their conversation after the movie is done:

Luka: “So… What do you think?”

Jackal: “I think that if Goncharov and Andrey just fucked, a lot of the deaths in the film could’ve been prevented.” [shurgs]

Luka: “W—What? But one of the themes of the movie is about inevitability… with all those ticking clocks imageries—”

Jackal: “Spare me that pretentious stuff and just take a second to picture what would happen if only they fucked and tell me that I’m wrong.”

Luka: … [thinking about it]

Jackal: …

Luka: [sighs] “You know what? You have a great point…”

Viktor

Can relate to Goncharov a bit, about trying to get away from your past and outrun the looming consequences dogging your footsteps, the inevitable karma making it feel as if you’re constantly running out of time.

Grandpa

Can relate a lot with Goncharov, as a fellow immigrant from the Soviet Union setting foot in a new country trying to build something better for his family and getting embroiled with the local criminal organizations.

The only difference is he succeeded, of course.

Grandma

Can understand and sympathize with Katya’s strained relationship with her husband, Goncharov. After all, her own marriage to Grandpa started out pretty rocky, but thankfully, they managed to fix that not long after her sons were born and they eventually fall in love for real.

Cara

She fell asleep halfway through the movie when Luka invited her and Viktor to watch it together. She only remembers the ice pick guy. Don’t tell Luka, please! He’ll ask her to watch it again with him.

Takashi

He would be most interested in the sexual tension between Goncharov and Andrey… No reason at all… Would totally agree with Jackal’s statement 😂

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woodsfae · 8 months

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B5 s02e20 The Long, Twilight Struggle Table of Contents • previous episode

Wow, we're almost to the end of another season! It's been a really good one, despite my own rocky start with its beginning. It's been interesting how my perspective has shifted enough along the way that I had change of minds about my change of minds of some characters. In The Gathering I loved Garibaldi, then came to dislike him for his sexism, police brutality, abuse of position, stalking Talia, being a shit about his ex, and general cop-ness, but the writing really brought me around on him! Weirdly, I now believe he can and will be better.

Almost the same for Londo. I didn't really like him at all, came to like him a little, then was to be SO disappointed in him that now I'm just fascinated to see how far his moral depravity and Sunk Cost Fallacy-ing will go.

And on to the episode!

Their CGI planet is really lovely and colorful, and does look quite 3d! And it's Centauri Prime (presumably). Must be a Londo episode!

This guy is petting the throne. wtf Refa. Very blunt about the fetishization of power that's going on here.

Londo: "Lord Refa, I have come a long way, and I am tired. Is there a reason I have been summoned here, now?" Refa: "Indeed there is, I have good news. The war which began six months is about to end. Sooner than any of us could have hoped. And you, Londo Mollari, will be the architect of our victory."

ope, the Centauri are about to do some crazy war crimes, I see!

Finally, a sexy transparent glass silhouette showering scene! I've been waiting for this since the show started. Classy of them to make it be Sheridan.

Friendly Draal Planet!!! I hoped to see him again! How delightful! What a bad omen, though.

Delenn is becoming just…transcendently beautiful. The lighting and camera shots, her expressions and grace, are all just astonishing. I am glad she gets to see her friend again. Maybe some of the other serene characters will pop up for a reunion. I'd love to see the little telepath girl who went to Minbari, Janice the Healer, and Thomas Jinxo the Seeker of the Grail again, and I think they'd all get along well (or at least interestingly) together.

Draal, appearing before Sheridan fresh out of his shower: "I've been watching you for quite some time, Captain. And I thought it was time that I introduce myself. My name, is Draal. How do you do." *Minbari bow* Sheridan, damp and be-robed: "Uh, fine. I'm fine." Draal, who has no idea how to talk to humans: "Good. You don't have any idea who I am, do you?" Sheridan, who did his research on B5 tysvm: "Unless there's another Draal who can do what you just did, you're the Minbari who took custody of the planet we're orbiting." Draal: "Ah, Captain, you do not take custody of the planet, the planet takes custody of you!."

This made me laugh really hard. The planet really did take custody of Draal. Near-total isolation, but youth. idk if I'd go for that.

Details…details…lmao Draal.

The Narn…cannot catch a fucking break. Contact with an entire sector of colonies, lost. They're losing, although their official stance is that they're holding their own. I wish them and their counter attack well! One all-out strike with the majority of their forces is a hardcore strategy! They could lose everything.

G'Sten: "If we make them pay, for every inch of space, we can wear them down, prolonging the war beyond their capacity to fight it. Centauri want a quick victory: they don't have the stomach for prolonging the war."

He also says there will always be enough ships to defend their homeworld, but dang that still feels really risky. I am so excited to see a little of G'Kar's family. His uncle! And he's so kind, warm, and loving. The exact opposite of the way they were described by Delenn and the Centauri in season one. They both call the Narn cold, strange, impossible to empathize with. I hate to see anti Narn propaganda! They have risen highly in my estimation and I am rooting for them so hard.

The Centauri are going to bomb Narn from orbit with banned weapons and wipe out much of the entire population. To "save Centauri lives." War crimes, as I thought.

Everything depends on Londo. It's too late to back out. Bringing the pressure and the logical fallacies down on him! He bends, obviously, and is going to reach out to Morden for help carrying out the sick plan.

Londo: "All right. I will bring my assoociates into this, but this is that last time. We are Centauri. If we are to sieze our destiny, we must do it ourselves. After this, no more." What'shisface" "After this there will be no need! Thank you. Cheer up. By the time you return to Babylon 5 the war will be over, and the Narns will be at our feet. This time, we will keep them there."

Exactly. The Narns will not stop resisting, they will eventually gain their freedom again, and there will be another and another. You can't build an empire without horrifically violating sentients' rights, and those sentients are always going to resist.

Love Delenn's outfit today. I hope Draal won't be an ass about her hair.

Aw, so nice, Londo gets to go watch the Centauri genociding the Narns, live and in HD safe on a warship. How thoughtful. May he choke on the sight.

Dr Franklin is a real and good friend and a great anti-fascist comrade. Gathering deets from his Narn patients to give G'Kar as up-to-date as information as he can, as quick as he can.

Draal Planet light hearted B Plot, yay! And Delenn is now experimenting with swearing She used the f-word even! Frag me, she's so great.

Delenn: "Draal? We're here." Draal: "Did you think I hadn't noticed, my old friend? You've changed. I like it."

I'm glad he's not racist to her! That makes two Minbari who have on-screen supported her: Lennier, and now her old mentor. I'm so glad!

But onto the meat of the visit. Draal has been using the planet's resources to gather information, including Sheridan's history and all the plotting Sheridan's been doing. Convenient, and awesome! Powerful allies are badly needed right now. Draal has been studying the universe and the planet, and he's ready for action! And I"m ready to see that action!

"In the long, twilight struggle which lies ahead of us, there is a possibility of hope."

That's a great message, and good repetition of the same sentiment from earlier with G'Kar and G'Sten. I'm afraid G'Sten is going to die, but I hope he lives. The Narns have faced enough tragedy.

Shadow ships coming for G'Sten and his fleet, the evil shits! The CGI has definitely improved from last season to a degree, although it's extremely obvious with the shadow ships. but I love the effect! They are all cgi and thus fake-looking, which I think enhances how out of sync with the normal dimensional bounds they are. I'd be fucking unnerved if I saw something that fake looking in real life.

goodbye G'Sten. :/

There's people on the Draal Planet! Wow, they must be weird.

LOVE this for Delenn. She's needed friends really badly, too!

Zathras!! Is in league with Draal! Cool!! I didn't think we'd see the Space Werewolf again, but this should be fun! JMS's spreadsheets must have been wild.

Narn is in a BAD position. Centauri have Narn surrounded, there's massive destruction and death, and the Narn fleet has been neutralized. An impromptu re-enactment between Narn and Centauri on B5 is underway. Of course.

Narn looks mostly brown and orange from orbit. I wonder what it looked like before the Centauri ever arrived. Bombs underway, Londo watching on while looking sick. Hope he feels even sicker than he looks!

Ineffective response from Minbari and Earth, of course. An atrocity! They condemn it! Really hard! Finger wag! Don't do it again!

G'Kar. What a horrible horrible place to be. Narn plans to surrender. I hope they can snatch victory from the jaws of defeat, but knowing this show, it will be even more grim for them and the universe by the end of the episode. Horrific.

G'Kar is reduced to asking Sheridan for political asylum. If they hand him over to the Centauri…! fuck! That's the kind of dystopian universe this is, too. I hope that won't happen, though.

Ugh. A speech by Londo. What an awful piece of propaganda.

Londo: "A little over five standard hours ago, the conflict which began with the Narn declaration of war, came to and end. The Narn regime has offered complete and unconditional surrender. The terms imposed by the Centauri Republic are as follows. One: the ruling body known as the Kha'ri will be disbanded, and its members subject will be subject to arrest and trial for the commission of war crimes against the Centauri." Sheridan: "Earth requests the right to send observers to these hearings." Londo: "That request is denied. Two: to prevent further acts of terror by the Narn against our people, the penalty for the murder of any Centauri by any Narn will be the execution of five hundred Narns. Including the Perpetrator's own family. Three: a provisional ruling council appointed by my government will take up the responsibility of re-building a more civilized Narn government, as a colony of the great Centauri Republic." Sheridan: "Is there anything else." Londo: "Yes. Just, one thing. Because the Narn homeworld is now a protectorate of the Centauri Republic, we reserve the right to determine who can speak for Narn. As a result, Ambassador G'Kar may no longer represent the Narn in any official capacity whatsoever. His appointment ambassador to Babylon 5 is hereby withdrawn. And as the only member of the Kha'ri still at large, Citizen G'Kar will return to Narn for trial."

"No," quoth Sheridan. Minbari supports Earth and Babylon 5 in this, although Delenn does call him Citizen G'Kar like Londo did. Fuck him, man. He's fully a bootlicker channeling his frustration at his guilt over all the war crimes against the non-Centauri. My least favorite fictional war criminal.

The framing and character work through this scene is WILD. G'Kar, sitting, slumped, not meeting anyone's eyes. Londo, speaking with clear enunciation, racist and imperialist language framed as the ethical, sensible decisions the Narn have forced them to make. G'Kar rising and speaking calmly before leaving when Londo loses his temper and demands, screaming, that G'Kar leave the council room.

G'Kar: "No dictator, no invader can hold an imprisoned population by force of arms forever. There is no greater power in the universe than the need for freedom. Against that power, governments and tyrants and armies cannot stand. The Centauri learned this lesson once. We will teach it to them again. Though it take a thousand years…we will be free."

The Narn will not go quietly.

Centauri is celebrating, they are dancing in the streets on homeworld. Or so the propaganda news broadcast goes.

Sheridan has a very nice speech for G'Kar and offer of support of all his personal assets that can be put towards that aim.

G'Kar: "The last time I took someone's hand we were at war twenty-four hours later." *takes Sheridan's offered hand anyway*

Mad lad.

And now Sheridan's off to a super-secret meeting! Delenn presiding. She has gathered him allies to pledge to Sheridan. Ah, Sinclair's project! <3 Sinclair, good work, buddy. Kosh is there, too! Somehow I doubt he is there to swear TO Sheridan. Along with, benevolently, to help the ants win against the anteater, maybe.

This is an episode of speeches! G'Kar's was terrible and great. Sheridan's falls a little flat. His line has been drawn on the other side of a fascist empire re-enslaving an entire people.

Well. I can only hope for some great and wild successes on the other side of the season finale!

The balance of affection between G'Kar and G'Sten, and Delenn's joyful reunification with Draal and the hope that and Sinclair's rangers inspired were all a much-needed balance against the Narns' current plight, but this was still so heavy and dark. It went there, it did that! Man, the forces of the Light are just fucking crippled without the Narn and their previous resources. All destroyed, and mostly dead, to feed the appetite of the Centauri Empire.

next!

#babylon 5 #G'Kar #many many war crimes #woodsfae b5

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bubblegum-discoqueen · 1 year

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I desperately need fics where like post under the red hood awkward phase, Jason has been tentatively brought back into the fold. Him and Bruce are still rocky as fuck, but they’re both trying, (side note: their therapist doesn’t get paid enough for their shit).

The JL is used to an ever changing menagerie working with/ accompanying Bruce. Circus kid? Sure. Stole the tires ? Alrighty. Blackmailed Bruce ? Okay why not. Piss off dad? Valid. Baby assassin? Which one?

But still everyone is shocked when Bruce brings the known crime lord red hood up to the watch tower. They’re immediately on guard.

“ Batman who is that???”

“ Isn’t that the guy who took over the drug trade in Gotham?”

“ Didn’t he put a bunch of heads in a duffel bag!?!?”

To which Jason sheepishly rubs the back of his neck, and Bruce in a move that clarifies nothing and everything … Answers by simply saying “ He’s my son”

It is at this point the league considers an intervention for Bruce because adopting orphans is one thing but crime lords???

Bonus: Diana being sole holder of the leagues braincell, recognizes Jason immediately and is delighted by his return. She actually plays a large role in mediating and helping to repair Bruce and Jason’s relationship. Their original therapist turns out to not be trustworthy, but it’s okay. Harley catches him tryna blab and promptly takes care of him. She’s willing to do a lot of things and god knows she has, but you don’t mess with doctor patient confidentiality.

The next time Bruce and Jason show up for therapy, she’s simply commandeered his office and patient list. She’s perfect for them, she knows better than anyone what the joker was capable of, and she knew Bruce in med school. She helps Jason stop putting Bruce on a pedestal and cope with what the joker did. Harley also isn’t above calling in back up. She tracks down Wonder Woman and asks if she’d help out during a session or two.

Diana is able to help Bruce deal with Jason’s differences in methodology. After all she’s killed, does he think her a monster ? Harley gets fed up with them being emotionally constipated and refusing to have an open honest dialogue, borrows Diana and the lasso of truth.

( my personal hc: Harley was not involved in the jokers killing of Jason, it was the last straw that convinced her never to go back to him)

#red hood #jason todd #bruce wayne #batman #batfam #harleen quinzel #harley quinn #diana prince #wonder woman

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ferretwhomst · 6 months

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what is the plot of the partners in crime AU?

hi anon. thank you. THANK YOU for this ask. okay so um

basically it's an au in which, following della's disappearance, a few things happen. Differently from canon

putting everything under the cut because it's A Lot lmfao. enjoy

the fallout is much, much worse. scrooge and donald both really lose their temper and tear into each other, and donald essentially disowns himself entirely from the mcduck clan. think stan saying "as far as i'm concerned, [the kids]'re the only family i have left." at the end of a tale of two stans. (or not, if you haven't watched gravity falls, but YOU GET THE POINT.

scrooge burns through his money bin a lot quicker in the search for della. he's desperate not only to see her again, but also as much as he hates to admit it, he fucking misses donald- but after the mess he made, neither of them are willing to admit that, much less reach out to each other again. their egos are too big for their own good. he needs a mediator to even begin to salvage whatever's left of his relationship with his nephew.

but of course the buzzards stop him eventually. he's forced to accept that della, wherever she is, is either dead or never coming back. and that's when he snaps: he invests so much time, effort, and money into this so-called family of his and this is what becomes of it? he's had ENOUGH (this is a lie, he loves his family deeply and misses them like anything. this is just the point where he starts denying it, suppressing it even "for his own good").

speaking of the buzzards i imagine fowl probably kills off duckworth within that timespan as well to further isolate scrooge, which only fucks with him more. only instead of just isolating him and turning him depressed it kind of backfires. i mean. it definitely does both of those things but he's also incredibly Angry. he's sick and tired of losing people

and what does he do with this feeling of rage? he decides to embrace a life of villainy. he doesn't have to set an example for anyone anymore, and public opinion matters little to him anyways. it's time to put his own spin on things. and as always, he's going to do it all on his own. he's scrooge mcduck, after all, he can do whatever he wants if he works hard enough at it. so he sets to hatching his very first evil plan...and soon discovers he is. absolutely No Fucking Good at hatching evil plans! he's never done this before. he doesn't know head or tail of where to begin. it's almost embarrassing for him, which is silly, after all he isn't even sharing these ideas with anyone...

...until he is! he eventually cracks and approaches his rival, flintheart glomgold. he knows nobody else who's been villain-ing for as long as he has, nobody else who pours so much care into their evil schemes as him (magica does NOT COUNT!!!!!!!1). he reckons he could pick up a thing or two from ol' flinty before getting back to his whole... working alone thing. and of course, glomgold agrees, because who would he be to pass up an opportunity to FINALLY be better at something than scrooge is?

their relationship is rocky at best. they argue a lot! unsurprisingly! glomgold takes every opportunity to rub it in that he's in a position of power here, and scrooge is just... so eager to be done with this all and go back to scheming on his own. but soon he finds out just how much there is to learn. you have to establish a whole new public personality when you reinvent yourself as a villain, it turns out. your own special scheming style! your own obnoxious catchphrase! there's so much he doesn't know. he can't find it in him to leave just yet, because he'll always be haunted by that extra information he never bothered to learn.

that and he doesn't want to admit that they both do grow on each other after awhile. it's a weird sort of rivals to found family situation (not "found family" as in "traditional family structure", not at all, more like a "they're the closest thing they have to family at this point" lollll) if that makes sense??? which, of course, is ironic considering how scrooge swore off the idea of family earlier on... but surely it doesn't count if it's glomgold, he's only here to learn from him, after all. the fact that they proceeded to spiral into dysfunctional codependency doesn't mean anything. Surely. SURELY.

anyway yeah this au seems very serious and angsty and. on one hand YES. IT KIND OF IS. scrooge is going through the HORRORS because let's face it, every au i make has to make the sad tortured old men Even More sad and tortured. but it's also just a nice little excuse for me to put scrooge and glomgold into Situations together and be a little lame and edgy about it. take for example this scenario which i've been thinking about for at least a week but never got to draw because i've been busy with exams

they're very silly actually <3 anyway HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS RANT!!! thank you again for sending me an ask it means the world to me. i have been waiting for an excuse to scream about this au for so long i'm glad people are interested EHEHH

#me properly presenting you guys with this au like #wrote like a dark fucked up version of scrooge mcduck haha.#just a glimpse into my dark reality #a full stare into my twisted perspective would cause most to simply go insane lmao #asks #ferret rambles #dt17 #ducktales au #partners in crime au #scrooge mcduck #flintheart glomgold #charlie don't look

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manidk1273 · 24 days

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🎀 — Wedding.

Tony was never the best father to you, even he knew that. You were a variable he never considered.. until you were 17. Surprisingly, Nick Fury himself recruited you for the Avengers. That's where your relationship starts again.. it was rocky, difficult but at least you each other as teammates.

Your name wasn't an unknown name, just like your biological father you were a genius. Even without powers, you were skilled. The first time you fought crime (though it was an accident and just sudden.) You wore a black surgical mask, and got in the fight scene. There, Spiderman himself saw you before you ran away.

„ Who are you? ”

. . . .

„ Whatever you wanted it to be, Spider. ”

You said, masked appearance as you stepped to the edge of the building falling elegantly but not to your death. At first, people thought you had powers but it was debunked by yourself. Tony met you— He never realized you were his kid until he met your parents. The woman he hooked up with years ago, and her now husband.

It was awkward at first but he shoved it off his shoulders. Ever since then, he has tried to restore a relationship. It was awkward between you two at first but you've gone from teammates to friends. Sure, Tony was relieved but he still felt like he wasn't doing enough. Especially when your step father(Mother's husband) would come with your mother. You even called him dad, he thought it was preposterous to him. He wasn't your real dad.

After years in the battlefield.. the world was at peace, but of course it wasn't always gonna be like this so you finally decided to marry your s/o this time of year. You met them having your career as a superhero, and you were so proud of them.. you were so lucky to have them in your life. It took him a slap to the face and Pepper to realize he was actually just jealous.. he was in denial.

Of course, every Avenger was invited. Close friends too.. and especially family. It was a small wedding, no big things.. but the venue was perfect for the two of you. Everyone attended with a plus 1, as the invitation suggested. As the ceremony began.. the usual traditional stuff happened. But one thing made Tony's heart drop.

Your step father was the one who was walking you down the aisle to your groom. It was awakening something in him.. of course, he's proud and happy for you. But when he saw that scene.. that moment, he felt like ripping your father's soul apart from his body. But he quickly shook away the thought. As the beautiful ceremony ended, he didn't stay for the feast. Pepper noticed when he wasn't near the tables and went to the parking lot to see him near the car, sitting by himself.

She knew Tony too much, she already knew what was happening. She sat beside him and took his hand to her palm.

“ Feel like shit, Pepper.. ”

“ I know. ”

It took a few more exchange of words before he just cried to her chest, she didn't expect the conversation to go like that but she was glad he wasn't bottling up his emotions.

He feels like shit, he really does. He knows he doesn't have the right to walk you down the aisle— but it hurts so much. He does see you as a kid, he really did. But he can't just.. reverse years of absence just by a year. He can't blame you.. you're just living your life.

He never wanted to become like his father. He wanted to show he cared, but.. sometimes you just.. become what you don't want to become.

I've been getting ideas I just needed to write. Again, I'm just getting back to the writing industry and I'm still very rusty.. but I hope you like my attempt at angst:)

As usual, Thank you so much for reaching the end and I hope you have a great day.

- Velvette 🎀

#tony stark #avengers #marvel #tony stark x son!reader #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark x daughter!reader #tony stark x pepper potts #pepper potts #angst #Reader x avenger #no use of y/n #no pronouns #no name #Velvqtte🎀#tony stark x daughter reader #tony stark x son reader

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rexxdjarin · 1 year

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Unwritten

The Captain's Log Prequel

A Captain Rex x OC: Mari Vontas Origin Story

Chapter 1: Someone New

Series Summary: Mari Vontas has spent nearly twenty years of her life rising to the surface of the bustling ecumenopolis of the Republic Capital planet of Coruscant. Now, about a year into the conflict known galaxy-wide as the Clone Wars, Mari finds herself on a Civilian Rights Committee serving closely under none other than Senator Padmé Amidala. Though her passion for justice fuels her professionally, her personal life has yet to catch up. That is, until a night at the clone bar 79s changes her passion for her job, her historically rocky love life and the trajectory of her destiny forever.

Series Tags/Warnings: Rated E (18+ Only MINORS DNI), canon compliant, canon typical violence, political themes, war references, battle trauma and loss, human rights discussions and most importantly lots and lots of smut and heartstopping relationship drama and fluff.

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Pairing: Captain Rex x OC Mari Vontas Word Count: 8.8k Series Rating: Explicit (18+ only, Minors DO NOT INTERACT) Chapter Summary: The Captain's Log prequel has arrived :) Your favorite couple had to start somewhere… Chapter Warnings: 18+ as usual but SFW, No Smut this time, Mature Themes, Suggestive Situations, Language, Political References, References to Canon Plot, References to Canon, Mutual Pining

21 BBY - One Year into the Clone War

A great outfit and a steaming cup of caf in hand were all Mari ever needed to start her mornings. Before she moved up to the planet's surface where the sun could actually reach her at the break of dawn, caf was the only thing strong enough to wake her and trick her body into realizing it was the start of a new day. Coruscant’s lower levels never got sun, and those who called it home had to rely on stimulants and artificial sunlight to feel even a fraction of the climate the surface did.

No matter how long she lived above the cityscape horizon line, she could never get used to it. Tepid air breezed through her long dark hair as she stood on the platform for the airtram, carrying the cool tang of fresh rain with it that was never present in the stale atmosphere of recycled air in the underground world. The warmth that came from this system’s sun, instead of a manufactured heat source, tinged her exposed shoulders as it rose to start the day.

The platform continued to crowd with lifeforms of more species than she could count. The place seemed more crowded than usual as beings of every kind tried to make their way to work on time. No surprise there, as the galaxy’s capital flooded with more and more refugees from planets consumed by the Clone War.

The war tore entire worlds apart, contributed to mass organized crime and terrorism, and displaced millions every day. The Republic Senate had already spent an entire year funding the conflict, and discussing interplanetary negotiations and organizing relief efforts had become part of Mari’s daily life. Every conflict prompted relief bills, investigative committees, and political lobbying. It was a lot more than she had initially signed up for–an entirely different world than the spying and whistleblowing she had done in the Coruscanti underworld as a young girl.

Still, she could help people–people lost and alone like she once was–without any family to turn to or a place to live. She could make a difference. Luckily, she was placed under the best senator in the galaxy, Senator Padmé Amidala, Representative of Naboo. Padmé headed the special interest Civilian Rights Committee to which Mari had been assigned close to a year ago. It was little more than admin work at times, but it was less dangerous than being a double agent and far better than being a thief.

The airtram approached with a slow, steely screech, doors opening and allowing passengers in and out. Mari filtered in with the crowd, taking the lone seat at the end like she always did. She had a perfect view of the surface this way and, even on her worst days, it made her realize how far she’d come after nearly 20 years on her own. Now, she spent the majority of the short ride to the Senate Rotunda mentally preparing herself for the day ahead.

General Kenobi had recently reported back to the Jedi Council and Republic Senate after freeing a small handful of Ryloth’s population from a Separatist hostage situation, and the details so far were extremely grim. With the Republic quickly working to provide support to the Twi’leks, Mari and Padmé had spent the last few weeks exploring every humanitarian avenue they could to find covert ways to provide emergency relief supplies to those suffering in the midst of their battle for liberation.

As Mari watched the airtram approach the Senate Building stop, she sincerely hoped either Padmé or Bail had come up with some ingenious way to transport the starving people some food and medical supplies. Maker knew Padmé’s close ties with her Jedi friends often helped the committee break barriers that other Senators or special interest groups would have trouble circumventing.

The crimson halls of the Senate Building always energized Mari, even when the work got hard. Every one of her colleagues was highly regarded throughout the galaxy and it was an honor to have even a tangential association with any of them.

She made her way through the bustling lifeforms to the lifts that led to her office. The quick rides were always the same. Most senate staffers like her were too busy to have a real conversation, and senators themselves didn’t concern themselves with the staff of colleagues they weren’t directly involved with.

That left Mari with only one option for socializing outside of her direct coworkers: The hard-working and friendly clone troopers of the Coruscant Guard. The elite troopers were assigned to deal with issues on Coruscant, guard the Republic Senate staff, and even directly assist the chancellor himself.

Mari exited the lift and made a beeline for her favorite trooper’s office. Coincidentally, the senate had given Amidala’s special interest committee an office that was only a few doors down from his, and Mari was overjoyed at the opportunity to annoy him with her presence even more than usual.

She approached the doors to his office, knocking a few quick times and hoping he was there already. Before she could knock again, the doors hissed open and she was greeted by a set of dark-circle-rimmed brown eyes and an exhausted scowl.

“Mari… please. It’s too early to be banging on shit,” he grumbled, motioning for her to come in and rubbing his temples with his fingertips. His office was an orderly mess, flimsis stacked on every corner of his desk and datapads taking up the rest of the space behind them. Mari had tried to help him organize it on more than one occasion but he liked it this way. He seemed to thrive on chaos. That was all he knew as Commander of the Coruscant Guard.

“Well then, Fox, good thing I brought you this,” she smiled, extending him the cup of caf she had carried all the way from her place. He leaned on the front of his desk, looking up at her as his scowl broke with the tiniest hint of a smile.

“Nah, c'mon. I can’t take that. That’s yours.” He waved her off, trying his best to refuse the one thing he obviously craved. Mari knew better than any civilian just how much Fox went through on a day-to-day basis. She could see it in the exhaustion behind his hooded eyes and through the graying hair at his temples that he was far, far too young to have. He never outright admitted that he struggled with a lot of his overwhelming duties as Marshal Commander of an entire planet’s armed forces. But Mari knew, so she did her best to look out for his well-being as much as she could.

“Fox…” she narrowed her eyes, scolding him gently, “take it. I’ll make more in our office.” She stepped toward him, offering it insistently and smiling at him, taking full advantage of the effect her big, pleading, brown eyes had on most men.

He rolled his eyes, sighing as he took the cup from her and shook his head. “Probably gonna be too sweet for me,” he grumbled, friendly irritation creeping into his deep voice. She arched her brow at him, folding her arms as she waited for him to take a sip. He did and his body language immediately changed to one of soothing relaxation, at least as much as Commander Fox ever could relax. “This is black caf…y-you know my caf order?”

“I’m observant. The Senator and I keep extra stocked in our office if you ever need it. That goes for all of you, actually,” Mari pointed out, patting Fox on the bicep and turning to head out of his office.

“Thanks, Sunshine. But the boys and I try our best to avoid being anywhere near Amidala. That’s the Torrent boys’ problem,” he chuckled, referring to the men in General Skywalker’s battalion who always seemed to be around and available if the senator ever needed extra help or security. Fox and the Corries had enough to worry about without getting sucked into anything General Skywalker was doing.

“Well then if I ever see them, they’ll get the good caf before you,” she laughed, turning on her heels and walking out his door. “See ya later, Fox.” He waved back, taking a few more hearty sips of caf as a final response.

Her office door was already open, filled with more and more of her colleagues starting their long day. She took a deep breath and followed inside, fully prepared for a day of emotionally taxing humanitarian work.

“Good morning, Mari,” a pleasant and gorgeous Senator Amidala called from her private office on the other side of the room. “Your plan to send hydration boosters to Ryloth was a huge success. They were extremely grateful. Look at you, making a difference,” she giggled approvingly, making her way toward Mari’s desk.

“Thank you, Senator. Just tried my best to think of what I wanted when I was in their position. Helps to recall your own experience at times,” Mari explained, drawing upon times she wished she could forget now that she was in a better place. Padmé stopped at her desk and sat gingerly on the edge, adjusting a few of the lights and decorations that came with it.

“Of course. That makes perfect sense. You’re very empathetic and helpful. It’s one of the main reasons I wanted you on this committee. You care,” she sighed, looking out her massive office window at the sun now fully risen on a new Coruscant day. “It’s not always easy finding those who do these days. Compassion is a choice that not everyone is strong enough to make. I’m glad you’re one of those people, Mari.” Padmé smoothed out the wrinkles on her elegant purple robe and stood up, pointing at something on my desk just out of sight. “By the way, I left you a cup of caf. I saw you came in without one. Enjoy and good luck today.”

Mari turned over her shoulder to a massive cup of caf sitting just beside her holopad, already pinging with tasks assigned to her for the day. She smiled gratefully, sitting down to take a sip. Milk and two sugars. Exactly how she liked it. Padmé was truly one of the most thoughtful and giving people she knew.

As she settled in at her desk for the day, she scrolled through her holopad notifications to sort out which tasks warranted action first. Most of them were the usual report write-ups being due or news from Jedi Generals on different battlefronts across the galaxy. That meant a long, long day of typing on a screen.

Hours ticked by before she could look up from her desk again. The senator was stuck in closed-door holocalls, likely for the rest of the day, and her coworkers had seemingly already taken their breaks. Mari gathered her things and followed suit, heading out of her office and toward the dining hall on the outside patio. Her personal comm that she’d left on silent during her working hours was flooded with messages.

Three of her girlfriends had been concocting a plan for tonight. They’d been trying to coordinate schedules to plan an outing for weeks now, especially to distract Mari from the disastrous end of her last relationship with an ambitious banking clan advisor named Kiro Jorr. Kiro, annoyingly, was the sender of another string of messages.

She perused through his thread first, rolling her eyes at the shallow excuse for an apology he’d been trying to communicate to her since the beginning of the week. There wasn’t anything he could say that would change her mind. He’d done nothing but treated her like a trophy, an object to be marveled at and never heard or listened to. He liked how she looked, voluptuous and curvy in all the right ways, but didn’t ever care about her thoughts or feelings.

Mari had finally had enough of being seen as only good for one thing and broke it off with the person she thought she’d grow to love someday. She wasn’t exceedingly heartbroken by it. It was a necessary change and she dealt with the loss the way she always did– a few casual hookups and many drunken nights with her friends at 79s. It also helped that her best friend was one of the most well-liked bartenders there.

Siviee Vilhar was the peppiest, daintiest Mikkian in the history of forever. Her pale green skin was tipped with deep purple on all her appendages, and her tinted lips always wore a pleasant smile. She and Mari had grown up on the streets together, supporting themselves by secretly filtering underworld crime dealings and intel to the political committees dedicated to ending such corrupt behavior on Triple Zero. While Mari had her sights set on joining the Galactic Senate, Siviee was more than happy to take the credits as a reward for her work and live a comfortable life being everyone’s favorite vivacious bartender.

Naturally, having all her girlfriends at the bar dominated by Republic clones was a great way for her to get tips and for the girls to have a guaranteed great time. Nearly all the messages were Siviee encouraging both their friends, Dara and Jamelle, to convince her to join them all out tonight. Mari quickly grabbed salad that had just enough in it to interest her and made her way out to the courtyard to find a quiet place to sort this all out.

It was good timing because Mari had been toying around with finally moving on. Not to her next sexual conquest, but to something real. Someone special and different who cared about the galaxy and her place in it. Sleeping around wasn’t fun anymore and taking the long break she had from serious dating after Kiro was allowing too much of her loneliness to factor into her decision-making. She did not want to go back on her promise to herself because she couldn’t stand being alone for long enough to wait for the right guy.

No. Tonight could serve as her last hoorah, saying goodbye to the reckless party girl who took home anyone she needed to satisfy her. Maker knew she’d never been interested in adding her personal baggage onto the already impossibly full plate of any clone, so 79s would be as good a place as any to dance and have fun for once. Since most clones weren’t interested in long-term relationships, she could go out without any expectations, and no one would get hurt or attached. If she ended up wanting to have a final one-night stand with a clone, then so be it. She could start fresh in the morning with no one holding her back either way.

She erased the meaningless, pleading apology thread from Kiro once and for all and blocked his channel from her comms. That way she’d never be tempted to go back there. She was a different person now. A better one who put herself and the good of the galaxy first– just like her wonderful mentor, Senator Amidala.

She pinged the thread with her girlfriends immediately after that, solidifying her plans for the night with just two little words:

I’m in. :)

—

Every goddamn clone in 79s had their eyes on her. The bolder or more experienced ones tried buying her drinks or asking her to dance. They were all handsome in their own ways, but their approach was wrong. Most of the time, the legions of clones who hung out in the bars were there to blow off a certain kind of steam, and Mari was still deciding whether or not she was up for that this evening.

More than a few times, Mari had indulged in heavy flirtation and banter with clones from lots of different regiments. They were all nice enough, but the days of taking men home to have her way with them were far behind her. She wanted something new, something more stable if she could find it. Stepping foot in a bar filled with conscripted clones--destined for, at best, a very unstable long-term relationship and, at worst, tragic death--was not a great start.

Tonight, the bar was filled with an especially raucous and celebratory group of blue-and-white-marked clones. The notorious and renowned 501st. Mari always heard stories from her other senate-adjacent friends about this particular group’s antics, and the second she saw them milling about the club tonight, she knew she was going to be hounded by all the wrong types.

These boys were definitely fun, rowdy, loud, and entertaining, but Mari’s long days of diplomatic strategy meetings and seminars made her incredibly wary of men like this. This did not stop them from trying their hardest to get her to come home with them. Mari and her friends, Dara and Jamelle, were encircled by a particularly boisterous group of men at the present moment.

One was tattooed across the face almost entirely with the Republic cog, cementing a permanent and intense loyalty to the Republic. He was the first to ask her to dance, politely offering his hand and nodding coolly when she stepped all over his pride by declining him. He turned to Dara, who looked at her like she was crazy, before accepting the hand he’d just offered her and leading him onto the dance floor herself.

The next smirked at Mari devilishly. With a small 5 tattoo on the upper right of his forehead and dark facial hair covering his strong jaw, he was definitely making her second guess her no more sleeping around rule. This group of clones was already strikingly more individual than the guys from the Corrie Guard she saw at work nearly every day. Reading her body language enough to know she wasn’t repulsed by the sight of him, he chuckled, “What do you drink? Would buy a girl as stunning as you whatever she wanted…” He nodded at Siviee, who started fixing what she could only assume was his usual.

“No– no that’s alright.” Mari smiled gently trying to decline him before she made a decision she knew she’d regret. Mischief twinkled in this clone's eyes like he knew he could probably charm her into accepting it. He’d definitely played this little game before.

“Well at least let me introduce myself then. Fives. The name’s Fives,” he confessed, accepting a drink that looked like purple poison from Siviee, who shot her a holy shit he’s into you glance.

“Yes, I gathered that. It’s tattooed on your forehead,” Mari chuckled, motioning casually to it and rolling her eyes. He laughed and shook his head, amused at her ability to keep him on his toes. She gripped her glass, the few final drips of Corellian Whiskey in it begging to be finished. She tipped it toward herself and sipped slowly.

“Whiskey huh? That’s a big drink for such a pretty little thing,” he flirted, elbowing a third brother who was chatting respectfully and kindly to Jamelle, his chest plate covered in a blue handprint. This man smiled at Jamelle to excuse himself before turning toward them.

“That’s our captain’s drink,” he spoke, much softer than his very brazen, flirtatious brother. “Which…you still owe him, Fives,” he reminded, clinking their glasses together and gesturing over their shoulder at another yet unseen clone. The crowd was buzzing with similar blue and white men, bobbing up and down to music or laughing amongst friends.

Fives sighed out loud, “Oh yeah. Better grab that or he won’t let me forget it.” He waved Siviee over again and motioned for her to grab another glass of whiskey for Mari.

Siviee glared at Mari as she handed her another drink, motioning obnoxiously to make a move, encouraging her to maybe entertain herself with the exceedingly handsome clone for one last time.

“Hey, don’t be so hard on him. He never comes out with us,” the quieter one said, turning back to Jamelle and shrugging in annoyance at his brother’s constant interruptions.

“That’s because he doesn’t know how to have fun, Echo,” Fives replied, rolling his eyes while accepting the drinks from Siviee’s bright smiling face.

“That’s not fair. He just doesn’t have the time. As much as he could use it. He works too hard.” Echo shrugged, patting Jamelle on the hand before motioning for her to head out to the dance floor while he waited for their drinks.

That piqued Mari’s interest slightly. Yeah. A guy like that. Focused on his job, doing what needs to be done. She admired that kind of drive and focus so much in a partner; That same kind of drive she was trying to embody as she grew out of her wild child partying days.

Mari tapped her new glass back onto the counter and tossed her hair behind her shoulders, straightening her body up against the bar top. Fives’ brows raised as he side-eyed her very full set of breasts outlined by her tight black dress. She spun her chair around to look out into the crowd for this hard-working, focused captain of theirs. A guy like that wouldn’t be hard to spot. “Now helping a guy who needs to have a little fun… that’s something I’m interested in,” she mused, leaning back on the bar top on both of her elbows. Fives gaze traveled down her body and she let him stare, silently flexing the power she knew she currently held over him.

He shook his head. “Good luck. Captain’s never so much as talked to any of the girls in here. Usually comes back late to sweep us all up off the floor,” Fives laughed, holding two drinks in his hand and sipping the purple concoction from his own.

“Hmmm… hard-working, responsible, a leader… that’s checking a ton of boxes,” Mari smirked, bringing her new cup to her lips and starting to scan the room to guess which one he was. He couldn’t be any of the ones dancing carelessly in a crowd of equally drunk party-goers. He also wasn’t likely to be one of the very sloppy and reckless ones engaging in something salacious around the back hallways by the refreshers. That left the tables and booths. Each was dotted with men wearing lots of colors, talking to women and men of many different species. Most clones were generally pretty open when it came to the company they kept.

Squinting through the pulsing neon lights, a lone circular table in the corner caught Mari’s eye–just a few clone brothers gathered around talking. Some wore shades of yellow, but most wore the same blue as Fives. I definitely found the right table, but which is the captain?

A group of fair-skinned Twi’lek women walked past them, turning the heads of nearly every man at the table from their decidedly unimportant conversation. All except one, who’d barely even looked up from a datapad he’d been perusing through, and who didn’t have a drink in front of him.

His armor was a scratched-up mess, only certain parts of the white plastoid polished up. His helmet sat on the table in front of him and proudly sported an emblem Mari recognized. Jaig eyes. A symbol of undeniable valor awarded for particular acts of bravery. Not a common signet to wear. If this wasn’t a sign of something different and special about him, then the buzzed and definitively blonde hair was. Mari had never seen a blonde clone before, and she’d seen and met dozens of them.

“Any chance that’s him over there?” she asked Fives, pointing at where he sat with his eyes buried in the datapad at the table. “Captain Jaig Eyes?” Mari smiled fondly, batting her lashes flirtatiously at such a pretty, stoic, and enticing man.

Fives rolled his eyes and nodded. “You’re good. How’d you pick ‘em out so easy?” he laughed, still eyeing her like something he’d love to devour for his last meal.

Mari took the whiskey from his hand, looking down at her lap before flicking her alluring eyes up to meet his gaze. “He’s the only one at that entire table that didn’t look at those Twi’girls like he wanted to pounce.” Mari smiled up at Fives, well aware of how good she must look to him right now while thinking only of his superior. “Mind if I take this over?” she asked, easing herself down onto her heels.

Fives shook his head, stunned by her temptatious flirting. She’d knocked him off his feet in a way he absolutely wasn’t prepared for. “Uh yeah sure I guess. But when he inevitably and stupidly says no, promise you’ll let me dance with you?” he bartered, gently grabbing her shoulder. While he certainly was nice enough, he was definitely the heartbreaker of the bunch. He was too smooth not to be.

Sleeping with him would either end in Mari hating herself for going against what she’d promised herself she wouldn’t do or hopelessly falling for someone who didn’t want to commit to her. Stars, if meeting such a unique clone captain tonight didn’t work, then what was sleeping with one more dashingly handsome clone gonna hurt? No, I can’t. She thought. This captain was who she was meant to meet tonight. She had to tell herself that until she believed it.

Mari turned to Fives and patted his cheek softly, “Maybe, but I don’t make promises I can’t keep, Fives.” She looked up into his deep brown eyes through her own hooded lids and blinked away the sultry stare she was using on their captain from afar. She sauntered away from him, feeling his dark, brooding stare on her bouncing behind. “That lucky bastard,” she heard him curse under his breath as she crossed the crowded floor.

The men at the table were happily chattering away about battle plans-this and mission-that. Two sporting yellow armor were arm wrestling loudly to the right, taking turns sipping their drinks, but never giving up their death grip on each other. Next to them was a medical trooper, a red health signet on one of his blue and white pauldrons, casually sipping on sparkling blue liquid and conversing with the others. Directly across from the medic and the yellow boys was another 501st man, his right eye marked with a bright blue geometric tattoo that mimicked the piping he’d painted down the right side of this chest plate. This crew and their tattoos were certainly very unorthodox for having such a supposedly responsible captain. Their captain was tucked into the booth side of the table, propping his head up on a palm in tired frustration, eyes still on his datapad. Mari knew she could break that frustration easily with just a few touches.

As she approached the table, the eyes of every single man seated turned to stare at her with very serious intrigue, even halting the arm wrestling. She held her ground, her tight black dress highlighting her every curve and only serving to boost her outrageous confidence.

The medic spoke first, “How can we help you, pretty lady?” His brown eyes crinkled into a very kind smile, not a hint of the suggestive nature that twinkled in Fives’ dark pupils before.

“Actually, I’ve got a gift for Captain Jaig Eyes, here,” Mari said rather seductively, twisting the very full whiskey glass in her wrist and biting her bottom lip into an alluring smile. The captain looked up with a jolt, the medic’s elbow to his bicep pulling him from his concentration on the datapad.

“Huh? Did Fives ever get my dri…?” He froze, as his beautifully warm amber eyes traveled from the glass in her hand up the curves of her side to meet her gaze. His mouth dropped open in surprise and his eyes went wide, in shock at the sight of Mari before him.

It was actually quite cute to get such an innocent response from the most highly regarded man at the table. The two yellow clones across from them whistled an amazed approval of her and suddenly the captain was very aware of every set of eyes around him waiting to gauge his response. But he didn’t move. He sat dumbfounded before her, his mouth unable to form the rest of his sentence.

Mari stepped forward, completely unfazed by the tension of the situation, and sat in the empty chair beside him. He reached forward to take the whiskey from her hand, but she jerked it away.

“No, the drink is for me.” She brought the glass to her lips and sipped, maintaining direct eye contact with him as her tongue slipped past her lips. He raised a confused brow and cocked his head slightly before she set down the glass and slid forward in her chair. She leaned into him, staring deeply into his brown eyes, and ran a few gentle fingertips along his durasteel jaw. “I’m your gift,” she whispered, running a thumb across his bottom lip and smirking at him.

He closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh, setting his datapad on the table. He ran his gloved hand awkwardly down his buzzed blonde hair at the nape of his neck and met her gaze again. He looked nervous, but the excited sparkle in his eyes was all she needed to see to know that he was more than interested.

“Boys… give me a minute,” he finally huffed out, glaring at the rest of the table and silently ordering them to get lost. Mari smiled at the gesture, grateful that he wanted to talk–just the two of them alone. Already a good sign of how respectable he was, even when she was being so bold.

The hastily dismissed soldiers muttered excitedly to themselves, giggling like schoolboys at their captain actually trying something for once. They all filed away from the table toward where Fives stood with his jaw dropped at the bar.

“So, do you have a name or am I going to have to keep calling you Captain Jaig Eyes?” Mari joked, pointing to his helmet in front of him.

He smiled, impressed that she recognized the symbol so easily. “The name’s Rex. Don’t think it’d be polite to have you call me any of the other names I usually prefer,” he said, shrugging casually as if he hadn’t just commanded at least four men to do exactly as he asked without question.

“Rex. Nice to meet you,” she complimented, the name rolling off her tongue delightfully. It was fitting for him. Intense and rough, but something still so perfectly familiar and safe about it.

“And who might you be?” Rex asked, settling back in his seat.

“I’m Mari,” she responded, watching his eyes crinkle joyfully like his medic brother’s had before.

He had such a handsome face–a strong rounded jaw, a broad nose, and plush lips quirked into a sideways smirk that fit him so well. His clean-cut blonde hair and long, dark eyelashes highlighted the pools of his honey-brown eyes that reflected almost golden in the right light. He was expressive, too, with any emotion he felt written all over his face.

Yet, he did seem tense. Lines and scars etched on his face showed an incredible sense of wisdom and reflected the struggles of every battle he’d lived through. The war was brutal to those fighting it, and he certainly seemed like he’d seen a lot more than most. The worry on his face was evident, but he was still so pretty, and he needed someone to remind him of it.

“Fives sent you over here, huh?” he asked, looking over her shoulder at his brother, glaring at him in annoyance. Fives was clearly bothered by the fact that somehow his brother had beaten him to the most beautiful woman in the bar without even trying.

“Well, technically I sent myself, but he talked you up. I wanted to help ‘the man who works too hard’ loosen up a little. Have some fun,” Mari said, placing a hand gently on his knee. He looked down at her hand and gulped, evidently not used to getting this much attention.

“Y-you? Want to help me?” he asked in disbelief, letting out a scoff. “The prettiest girl I’ve ever seen wants to sit here with me?” he asked again, leaning forward to grab the drink in her hand. She handed it to him, sliding her other hand further up his thigh.

“Yep. The prettiest girl in the bar wants to spend time with the only man here who I find interesting,” she reaffirmed, placing her now free hand on top of his gloved one. His breathing quickened, his hand turning to grip her delicate fingers. He looked down at her hand on his thigh and his expression changed from one of surprise to determination.

Shooting another glare at Fives, he pulled her forward, patting his upper thigh and boldly inviting her to sit in his lap, exciting her even more. He was definitely tense and preoccupied, but he wasn’t innocent. Mari obliged, sliding over to position herself on his lap and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. He eased his strong biceps around her sides, a large splayed hand supporting the small of her back.

“Well then, what do you want to know, pretty girl?” he asked, looking up into her eyes with an emboldened and hopeful gaze. He certainly didn’t come to 79s tonight thinking he’d have any girls in his lap, much less someone he was this attracted to. He drew her possessively into his torso, exploring all the features on her face with his expressive eyes. He had passion, that much was evident from the desperate and sultry way he looked at her.

She tipped his chin up with a few gentle fingertips before trailing those touches down the front of his chest plate. “Tell me how you got those jaig eyes, Rex. From what I understand, they don’t give those out to just anyone.”

He hummed in response, impressed by her knowledge and happy that someone was taking an interest in what he had to talk about. “Well that’s a long story…” he muttered, brushing a few strands of hair off her face and tucking them behind her ears. Mari bit her bottom lip and smiled, the gruffness in his voice was somewhat different than his brothers’ and sent butterflies to the lowest part of her stomach.

“I’ve got time, Captain,” Mari replied, “plenty of time.”

The bar was absolutely buzzing with life, more so than it had in a long time. This 501st crowd really did know how to party. They’d just come back from a long tour of duty. For as hard as they always fought, Rex let them party twice that whenever they came home. It was the best way to reward his men for all their good work and distract them from whatever horror or atrocity they had to witness or commit.

Rex talked a long while and Mari listened, slowly brushing flirtatious circles along the top of his chest. He was highly intelligent, more so than most diplomats and senators she was forced to work alongside. He was funny, too, with a penchant for sarcastic and slightly dark humor.

In all the time he spoke, he barely even touched his drink. It seemed like he preferred keeping all his senses at attention to focus on her. He could get alcohol anywhere, but he couldn’t easily find a distraction like her. He looked at her like she was the only person there, completely uninterested in the party atmosphere. Every time Mari spoke up to comment on some part of his story, his eyes lit up and his cute little half-smirk broke up his serious, hardened face.

His grip on her lower back kept her tight to his side as if anything looser would result in her slipping away, never to be seen again. It was the almost subconsciously desperate hold of a man who hadn’t been touched like this in a long while, if at all. He was showing an inexperienced hand–unusual for a man who was so well-versed in nearly every other area of his life. He knew where to hold her to pique Mari’s interest in that way, which proved he wasn’t inexperienced in that department. No, it was deeper than that. It was like he couldn’t believe his luck at having someone he’d barely even let himself dream about sitting in his lap.

The tiredness and frustration that was written all over his face when she first sat down had been erased almost instantly. He looked refreshed and like he was genuinely enjoying himself for once. His heavy brows weren’t scowled in concentration anymore, the tension in his shoulders completely fading away just from having a conversation. Fives wasn’t kidding. Rex didn’t know how to have fun and he really did need this. He looked so much more content than he had just a few hours ago.

Mari wondered just how much happier she could make him tonight. Her mind wandered to what his bronzed skin might look like under his armor, how incredibly built he must be, and how each little muscle would contract under her touch. She’d never wanted to sleep with someone so badly just after talking to them. She shook the thoughts from her mind. No. He is far too respectful to do all the kinds of debauched things I’m thinking about. He wasn’t the type to take a girl home after one night. Fives said it himself, he never talked to girls here.

Before she could realize she’d been staring, his thumb and forefinger cupped underneath her chin. He tilted her face toward him and she couldn’t help the unintentionally tantalizing look she gave him.

“You’re not used to this,” Mari giggled, running a hand down his chest further and feeling him lean into her touch.

“I’m not. Especially not from someone as gorgeous as you,” he grumbled, his voice dropping and matching her energy. He pulled her impossibly closer to him, his eyes trailing down to where her breasts were now pressed up against him. He shifted underneath her, his body starting to betray the restraint he’d been holding onto all night.

“Maybe you need to get out more. It’s a shame I hadn’t met you sooner,” Mari pouted, ever so slightly rolling her hips against him.

“Definitely won’t need to go out anymore. Think I might’ve already found what I’m looking for. Or she found me,” he smirked, his face inches from hers, his breathing slow and focused. He was sweet when he was tempting her, cleverly baiting her to go after him. He’d already fallen hard for her but was dragging the moment out. The longer they played this game, the longer they could sit here like this together.

“Hmm… you catch on quick.” She smiled, biting her lower lip to tease him right back. She’d noticed that he couldn’t keep his eyes off her lips every time she did that, and she was sure her lipstick was probably faded from it by now.

There were more than a few intrigued eyes on them at this point, nearly all of them his men watching from the bar–both impressed that she’d had the guts to go after him and astounded that their captain had actually accepted. How far was he willing to go?

Mari had promised herself she wanted someone nice, someone respectable. She didn’t want to regress back to the girl who took home whoever she wanted, but who no one ever seemed to need. But those big, desperate, golden eyes of his. Maker how could I resist? She thought desperately. He needed this. He needed to go home with someone who understood him, who had a real connection with him, and who could take his stress away and remind him how fucking good it would feel to be cared for. This wasn’t even about her. She wanted it for him. And she didn’t trust that anyone would take better care of him than she could.

Mari wanted to be the one who tore that armor off him and kissed down the perfectly toned chest she knew he had–to draw away the pain and bruises and brutality of all the battles he fought. She wanted to give him his own personal reward for fighting so hard to protect everyone around him. She could only imagine how good he’d look with his head thrown back, that strong jaw clenching as she swallowed him down the way he needed. He talked for hours about missions he’d been on. Now she had one of her own.

She turned in his grasp, rotating her hips and hiking her dress up slightly to straddle his lap. With her entire center pressed against his, he sat back, letting out a strained breath. He could resist almost anything. But this? This he couldn’t fight. She was everything he dreamed about at night, sprawled across his lap and fawning all over him. His rough, gloved hands ran down her sides, feeling the way her body curved beneath his nimble fingers.

“Stars-- look what you do to me…” he sighed, rutting his hips up into the space between her thighs to make her feel him. The black fabric tented beneath his codpiece, the length of him even harder than his armor.

“I can do that without touching you? What’s gonna happen when I get my hands on you?” Mari whispered in his ear, letting her lips brush against his neck. He growled softly in response, his hands coming down to grip her hips powerfully. Maker, he was strong.

“Kinda want you to find out.” He nibbled at the space beneath her jaw gently. “Do you wanna get outta here?” He asked politely, freeing her hips from his death grip on them and pulling back to blink at her hopefully.

Mari told herself so many times that this wasn’t who she was anymore. Casual sex wasn’t something she wanted to do anymore. She was looking for something better, someone better. A commitment, a partner. She searched his face for any sign that she shouldn’t do this. Anything suspicious or disrespectful, but she didn’t find it. Everything about him felt safe, understanding, and even protective of her–like there was nothing he would ever do to let anything or anyone hurt her.

He was overwhelmed, too, his pounding heart making his chest heave with anticipation. Every second that went by as he waited for her answer felt like another bit of time she was wasting by thinking too much.

Before she could open her mouth to speak, his hands found the sides of her neck and his lips crashed into hers, as if to convince her in action instead of with all the words he couldn’t find. His lips surrounded hers, tenderly separating them with his tongue. It was heavy and desperate, and a jolt of what felt like a thousand volts of electricity shot down Mari's spine. The subtle tang of surprisingly good whiskey hit her tongue as she remembered the brown liquid they had both left nearly untouched on the table while they talked.

Tension stronger than a tow cable wire suddenly snapped and she relaxed into the mind-numbing kiss. As he pulled away, he rested his forehead on hers and huffed out shaky, lust-laden breaths over her face.

“Woah,” Rex muttered, blinking up at her in shock over how that felt.

She smiled and leaned forward to place another few featherlight kisses on his lips. This was something. Whatever this feeling was between them, they both knew it was there, and that was enough of a good sign for her to take the leap.

“Let’s go, Rex,” Mari tipped her head toward the door, suddenly hyper-aware of the entire crowd of people around who probably just watched them pounce on each other.

“Yes ma’am,” he chuckled darkly, his lust-blown eyes now a much deeper and almost threatening shade. She swung herself off his lap quickly, tangling her fingers in his very large armored ones as he stood up. He scooped up his helmet in his other arm and followed her like a lost tooka.

His brothers from across the bar were stunningly quiet, watching in disbelief at the scene unfolding before them. Mari could feel Fives’ eyes especially, wide in shock as he pieced together what was happening. She didn’t just talk about successfully capturing their immovable captain’s attention, she had done it.

The sea of blue and white armor began to hurriedly part for them as they made their way to the door, taking note of the girl who had enraptured Captain Rex. It was like the whole battalion was watching in shock as one of the most notoriously by-the-book captains of the entire Grand Army threw the regulation manual out the window. Although, she was sure it was probably just her imagination.

What was it about her that struck him? Sure, she wanted him and went after him because she never denied herself what she wanted. But why this time around did he accept?

His large hand crept up her forearm, holding tight as he shouldered through the crowd. The room parted for him, barely having to say two words to anyone to get them to follow his lead. It was incredible to watch him so easily demand respect from hundreds of people without batting an eye or getting cocky.

She’d never seen such humility in a clone leader before. Mari had met dozens of clones, but most were pretty much the same as any nat-born. They were all handsome, built, and smart. They had plenty going for them and they knew it, especially the ones that held high ranks. Fox certainly had an air of untouchable authority about him around his troops, but not Rex.

The men they passed gave him various acknowledgments: friendly cheers, formal salutes, and even what felt like celebrity fanfare. But his reaction to them all was the same: a slow, short nod of appreciation and that cute little sideways smirk, as if the glory and attention meant nothing to him and he was just another ordinary man.

But he wasn’t.

No man, and especially none of the other clones Mari had ever spoken to before, had made Mari’s insides tremble and her heart ache like this. Not the ones she saw at work. Not Fox with his sarcastic quips and blunt honesty. Not even Fives’ insanely handsome face. As much as she wanted to be a new person, to not drag herself through another night of meaningless sex with some guy, she wanted Rex badly. The need to have him overwhelm her was too great. Yet, being in his atmosphere felt like a promise of something more.

Her arms erupted in goosebumps as they approached the sliding blast doors, the cool air of the night washing over her overheated body. She pulled herself into his side, clinging to him like he had been to her in the booth. His hand slid down the small of her back, politely guiding her outside first. He looked left and then right, scanning the area slowly for something unknown before turning to her.

“My apartment is on the uppermost levels by the Senate Building. It’s… kinda far.” Mari sighed, doubting that either of them could make it much longer.

“Our barracks isn’t that far, but I didn’t think you’d want to go there. It’s not exactly romantic,” he scoffed, using the hand on her back to guide her closer to him.

“My place is fine then. It’ll be a little more… private,” Mari muttered suggestively, her pulse thrumming as he held her into his body. “We’ll probably be needing that, won’t we, Captain?”

He let out a deep exhale, clearly trying to contain himself as his title falling from her lips did something obscene to him. “Definitely… especially if you call me that again.” The way he looked at her felt like he could see so much more than just her desirable physical presence before him. His interest was beyond skin-deep; he saw all of her and wanted to keep digging, to explore more of the person he’d clicked with so perfectly.

Just as he stepped forward to hail a hover cab for the both of them, his comm blinked twice and he froze in place. He shook his head and dropped his eyes to the ground, pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers. “This cannot be fucking happening right now.” He shrugged and let her go, the few steps he walked away to answer the call felt like lightyears all of a sudden.

Mari felt her heart sink to the ground at her feet. She knew this was too good to be true. There had to be a catch. There always seemed to be for her. “Is everything ok?” she mouthed and he shook his head, his expression fading to one of deep regret and apology, unable to hide his disappointment.

“Yes, General?” He paused, looking over at her nervously like he too felt the cloud of the dream they’d just lived in drifting higher and higher out of their reach. His entire demeanor seemed to sink as his eyelids dropped shut and his shoulders sagged. “N-no, sir. I’m not busy.”

Mari clenched her jaw and closed her eyes, trying her damndest not to get misty-eyed over something that probably would never work out anyways. The way he made her feel could only ever happen in her dreams. She was sure they both knew it. The hovercab they were hailing had finally approached and was starting to get antsy.

“Right away, sir. See you in ten.” Rex hung up his call and walked back over, completely deflated and as stressed as he’d been when she first laid eyes on him.

“Well?” Mari sighed, asking a stupid question she already knew the answer to.

Rex motioned to his comm and then to a building not far from where he’d mentioned the barracks would be. “I’m… I’m sorry,” he offered, stepping forward to rest an apologetic hand on her arm. Mari backed away, not wanting him to come any closer if this is how it was always going to end.

“I get it,” she said bitterly, crossing her arms to her chest to reassure herself since he couldn’t. “Duty calls.” She turned on her heels to enter the cab, but he caught her arm and yanked her back. “What?”

“I…” he stuttered over his words, exposing just how much this was uncharted territory for him. He stopped himself and flashed her that endearing half-smirk that made her heart jump through her chest in a way she didn’t want to admit meant something to her. “I can give you my comm frequency. If you give me a way to reach you, too… ” he laughed, nervously trying to downplay his disappointment.

For the first time, Mari couldn’t read the expression on his handsome face. Somewhere between desperate for this to work and doubting it ever would. He was trying his hardest to do anything he could think of to prevent her from slipping away.

“Okay. Fine,” she relented. She uncrossed her arms and took out her personal comm, sighing to prevent herself from letting her anger at her plans being shattered ruin the moment. She shared her frequency with him and received his in exchange, raising her finger in wait to hold the cab just a few seconds longer. “But you better contact me.”

“I will, Mari. Promise,” Rex nodded, awkwardly trying to think of anything else to add and sorely wishing he could feel any of the obvious spark they had only a few minutes ago.

“That general of yours better be dying or something,” she joked darkly, turning to finally sit in the hovercab.

“Sometimes I’m surprised he hasn’t by now,” Rex quipped, folding his arms and rolling his eyes playfully. He let his laughter die down and his brows furrowed again, “I won’t forget how you made me feel anytime soon. I promise, Mari.”

Mari sat with her hands in her lap, blinking up at this handsome, noble captain professing something more to her than she could understand right now. She swallowed thickly and blinked up at him, wanting to reach out the cab window and kiss his face all over again. “I know. Take care of yourself, Captain.” That was all she could manage to say as the cab revved up and took off back to her apartment, leaving a crestfallen blonde clone captain standing alone on the platform with his helmet tucked under his arm.

When a day or two went by without even so much as a message from him, Mari sulked in her apartment pathetically and mourned something that never even existed with someone she wished she didn’t have to see the face of everywhere she went.

notes: AHHHHHH ok hi bbys. this series has been a long time coming. Mari's official by name debut has me SO excited. these two are truly everything to me and I hope you love learning about their journey as much as I love telling it.

taglist coming soon! comment on this post or message me if you'd like to be added :)

#wip unwritten #wip unwritten chapter 1 #captain rex x oc: mari vontas #captain rex x oc mari vontas #captain rex x oc #captain rex x oc: mari vontas smut #captain rex fanfic #captain rex fanfiction #rex and mari🥺#the clone wars fanfic #captain rex #oc: mari vontas

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