#Droid Control Ship

[pedroam-bang]

Star Wars Jedi: Survivor (2023)

[sw5w]

Darth Maul

STAR WARS EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace 00:27:43

[swtechspecs]

Hoersch-Kessel Drive, Inc. Lucrehulk-Class Droid Control Ship (Modified Lucrehulk-Class LH-3210 Cargo Freighter)

Source: The New Essential Guide to Vehicles and Vessels (Del Rey, 2003)

[grayrazor]

So based on the curvature of the outer wall, is the bridge on the Trade Federation battleship located somewhere in that bottom row of windows on the sphere section?

[starrdream]

My dearest nemesis

Anakin Skywalker x f!reader summary: Things get heated after seeing your fellow Jedi friend on a mission. includes: SMUT!!, top ani, doggy style in a spaceship, enemies with benefits

Being a Sith apprentice wasn’t very easy, especially not when you were sneaking away to hook up with a fellow Jedi any chance you got.

Seeing Anakin was always a difficult task. Together with your Master, you’ve been working against The Republic and Jedi order non-stop for years.

And the prophecy? It loomed over you. Anakin was the Chosen One, destined to destroy the Sith and bring peace to the galaxy.

Just this morning you were sent on a mission to destroy some of the Republic’s important bases.

The second you were given your ship, you knew it would be an awful trip, or worse, a potentially failed mission. The engine broke down before you could even take off, once It was fixed it was simply too loud. The hum was constant and obnoxious which meant you couldn’t get any sleep during the near 6 hour trip.

It was safe to say that you were exhausted when you arrived. You couldn’t even deny it yourself-your eyes were being forced open every few minutes, your connection with the force was sloppy and weak. You didn’t even know how you managed to disarm 3 out of the 4 bases stationed there.

It was getting darker and darker by the minute and it only made you more anxious and on edge. Time was not on your side.

Once you were inside the fourth one, you had to get rid of too many droids and clones for your liking.

You scrambled to deteriorate an alarm system as quickly as possible so you could escape without anyone noticing you. Thanks to your lack of sleep and recklessness, you managed to knock your lightsaber out your belt.

“Damnit..” You mutter quietly, bending over to pick it up quickly before the sound of it rolling around the tile floor could cause anyone to find you.

As quickly as you stood up you froze. The familiar sound of a lightsaber humming filled the room-unfortunately, it was not yours. You slowly turn around, cursing yourself for being so clumsy and careless.

“My dearest nemesis..” A familiar voice chuckled.

“Anakin” You breathe out in relief, shoulders and neck relaxing despite his lightsaber being mere inches from your face.

“I’m offended you hadn’t sensed me sooner” He feigns offense.

“The Force isn’t on my side today..” You say as he inches his weapon closer, causing you to tilt your head back more “Missed me yet?”

“Always.” He smiled brightly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Without another word, he turned off his lightsaber and put it back in his belt before pulling you in. Grabbing your wrists, he pulls you into a hug, wrapping your arms around him and nuzzling his face in your neck.

“Let’s get you out of here shall we?” He mumbles.

Bending you over the control panel of his spaceship, Anakin caressed your sides and mumbled into your ear, chest pressed against your bare back.

“You always run into me when I’m on missions..” He kisses the side of your neck, making you mewl “I’m supposed to be destroying the Sith.”

“Well you sure are about to destroy me..” You grind your hips against his teasingly, feeling his growing arousal strain against his robes.

“The things that come out of your mouth..” Anakin chuckles breathlessly, his grip tightens as he pulls away just enough to slide his pants off.

“You ready m’lady?” He says, parting your legs with his knee as you squirm and rub your ass against his pelvis

The second you nod, he slips two finges inside you, stretching you out slowly and thoroughly, causing your hips to buck against his hand and grind on it shamelessly.

“Always so wet and ready..” He groans at the feeling, pumping his fingers in and out a few more times before pulling out completely.

You whine at the loss of stimulation, pushing your hips further against him.

“Alright gorgeous, we’ll start..” Anakin chuckles, giving himself a few strokes as his tip presses up against your throbbing entrance.

A loud gasp escapes you as he slowly pushes himself inside, giving you a few seconds to adjust before pulling almost all the way out and slamming back balls deep. Your walls clamped tighter onto his cock, as if trying to pull him deeper.

He slams into you hard with every thrust, arm wrapping around your waist to keep you still while he fucks you senseless. The entirety of the ship’s cockpit was filled with sounds of balls clapping against your bottom, your desperate moans and Anakin’s ragged breaths and whimpers.

"Keep those pretty noises up for me yeah?" He bites on you shoulder gently.

With each powerful thrust he drove you closer to the edge, increasing your desire for the sweet release.

“Mmm pl-please Ani,” You whine. “H-harder” You cry out.

“I wonder wh-what your master’s gonna say.” His hand creeps up the back of your neck, pulling your head back slightly by the hair. “When you come back tomorrow, limping and all sensitive…Could you tell him you were railed by a Jedi?”

“F-no” You moan as you release all over his cock. He continues to thrust in and out, drawing out every ounce of pleasure from you.

“Didn’t-didn’t fucking think so..” He mumbles hoarsely as he finishes as well, filling you up with his sticky hot cum.

A few more thrusts and he pulls out , leaving you feeling empty and causing some of your mixed juices to slip out of your sensitive pussy and run down your inner thigh.

“Get out of here before the lookout troops find you, their shift starts in an hour” He gives your neck a firm kiss as he puts his robes back on, ushering you to do the same.

You get dressed too, straightening your hair out with your hands and adjusting your belt.

“See ya around y/n..” Anakin smirks, drawing out your name. “Don’t let the Jedi catch you again.” He winks, giving your ass a playful smack as you walk past him annoyed.

He might be an arrogant, childish idiot, but he was your arrogant, childish idiot.

[assortedvillainvault]

Hello. Can I ask Lord Shen, NOS-4-A2, Horned King and Dr. Facilier with very smart but shy S/O?

Greetings Tumblr citizen, you most certainly can!! Love the variety here! Lowkey this was one of my favourites to write so I hope you like it!

Villains x SmartbutShy!S/O

Lord Shen

Oh? So you do talk.

You pointed out a discrepancy in the cannon’s design vs the quantity of gunpowder needed to shoot the given ammunition without careening backwards and killing the gunwolves – and all he could do was blink at you.

You spend all day hiding from the court, only to sneak in and tell him - to his face - that his weaponry was unfit for purpose, then propose a solution before he has time to open his beak??

...Are you engaged to anyone? Because if not he’s happy to remedy that-

As soon as your genius becomes apparent you go from barely present in Shen’s mind to a pillar of focus. He’s never met anyone so easily able to cut through the mess of mechanical and logistical issues of such vast quantities of metalwork – besides himself of course.

That you fall apart under any form of social pressure is...worrying however. China’s social hierarchy is a vicious thing, and such shyness is a weakness in even the most prosperous of courts – never mind his own.

He’s getting you a tutor. He cannot allow you to make an enemy within his walls when you are so closely intertwined. His word means much now that he’s killed most who would go against it, but he cannot protect you from everyone.

NOS4A2

Oh scrap and damn it all-!

It’s all he can do not to smash the unresponsive controls, and instead whizzes off into the rafters for a sulk to brood.

This ship was fried. It was charged enough to get somewhere, but if he couldn’t pinpoint a heading then he might as well be stranded on a stray asteroid instead of a merchant class vessel, for all the good it would do him.

He rolls his optics and pouts as a crewmember comes rushing in, unaware as he idly sizes them up from his vantage point. Not a droid. Stuck and he can’t even snack. Heinous.

He recognises you. The little one who didn’t talk much. It was a wonder the bigger crew members hadn’t accidentally sat on you for all you seemed able to disappear in to the background.

He all but jolts as you give the console a WHAM and everything comes online again – and gawps delightedly as your little fingers fly over the display, resetting coordinates and triangulating their position in 3D space, manually.

He wasn’t expecting such a solid grasp of intergalactic maps & positioning to come from someone who can barely string a sentence together! What a lovely surprise!!

You turn with an aborted shriek as he swoops down and clamps a hand over your mouth, grinning. The doors short circuit and slam shut with a bang, leaving him to loom over you as he idly tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“Hello dear~” he purrs, chuckling as your eyes go wide. “Fancy being helpful?”

Horned King

A kindred spirit?? Finally.

He abhors unnecessary social interaction, so to find someone else who operates on the same principle is a breath of fresh air in his long, stale existence.

He's spent so long with only beasts, thickwitted huntsmen and Creeper for company that to see someone so clearly intelligent was almost a shock. The quiet, assesing draw in your eyes was what made him stop and consider you as someone of interest.

...Y’know, once he actually managed to speak to you. Crippling shyness on your end, a lack of patience for the living on his…

He perceives everybody in his lands as something to be used, and you are, unfortunately, no different no matter how many soft feelings you insist on wringing out of his dessicated black heart. Such a spark as yours cannot be wasted. But you are not suited for the battlefield.

It seems you might have a knack for statecraft, if the frankly boggling rate at which you read is any indication. You have an ability to catch loopholes and find solutions that actually help him run his ramshackle forces, and keep the castle running smoothly.

It turns out you are invaluable - and prone to making little nooks of book towers and blankets in his library. Which is adorable.

But only when reading. Spoken word renders you so anxious you can miss important details and become a doormat. A pity. But not an insurmountable issue.

Until they rot, his ears and mouth work perfectly well. You can be his sweet little shadow, and he the face of things.

He'd have it no other way, honestly.

Dr. Facilier

Now darlin, why so shy?

He’s watched you scurry away from his table more times than he can count. He gets the feeling that you’d cross over three streets and the river if you could, to avoid catching his eye on the way to work.

And yet… you always pass by. Watching as he shuffles his cards.

He’s mid scam on some hapless tourist, fingers deftly spinning though tricks as he pulls them into a tidy little scheme, when he catches you watching intently from the side.

Your eyes twitch down to his left sleeve. If he’d have been less of a showman he’d have frozen.

You sneaky little card counter – he tries a couple different tricks, catching where your eyes narrow as he slips cards under the table, into pockets and swaps coins out with dazzle enough to bamboozle even the slickest citygoer.

Your eyes track every single one.

Damn. He has GOT to get you on side. Can’t have such a cute clever thing like you out where he can’t see you…

He ignores the fact that his shadow has been leering at you for weeks and already knows where you live. Give a man some leeway if he likes to hear a cute little thing squeak when they trip over ‘nothing’ once in a while.

And it’s even cuter when he steps from the shadows and smoothly slips you under his arm.

After all! He couldn’t help but notice you don’t seem to have many friends, cher. And he can absolutely help you with that…

[loki-hargreeves]

Mercy

Pairing: Poe Dameron x f!Reader (she/her pronouns used a handful of times) Warnings/Tags: enemies to lovers (vibes at least), hurt/comfort, angst, descriptions of injuries, name calling (nothing too serious), mentions of death and killing, fluff at the end if you squint Word Count: 4.6k Summary: Poe should kill you. You're his enemy. Yet when he sees you, weak and injured, he struggles with his decision. A/N: Writing this instead of starting another series rn because I have self control...

"Eyes on target," Poe speaks into the comms, his eyes locked on the TIE fighter in front of him. In the vast emptiness of space, there are few obstacles it can hide behind as Poe chases behind, loading the weapon system of his trusty X-wing.

Poe and a few other rebels from the black squadron were surveilling Jakku after getting intel about a first order weapons trade taking place on the planet. Safe to say that the intel was legit. The place is swarming with first order fighters. Luckily, they were met by a small TIE fighter squad in the sky. The real goal is to get rid of them without letting them warn the bigger first order fleet that's surely on standby, ready to send backup if needed.

"Fire away. We're right behind you, Black One," Wexley responds to Poe, reassuring that they've got everything under control for now.

Poe's thumb brushes against the button that's the only thing between him and the enemy ship getting blasted into stardust. His heart is racing from the adrenaline of battle, no matter how big or small. This should be the last target in the sky.

He presses the button.

A flash of light fills his cockpit for a second. Pew. Then, the enemy is gone. It happens so fast that Poe can't even see the TIE fighter blow up before it's gone. The only evidence left of the enemy is scrap floating around in space. Poe's X-wing passes the debris by so fast that it's quickly left far behind. A memory, if even that.

"Target cleared," Poe tells his squadron. Now he can relax. He smiles a bit as his comrades cheer, most likely more relieved to have survived rather than actually being happy and cheerful. They managed to wipe out a bunch of TIE fighters without losing any of their own.

BB-8 beeps from the back of the ship, the droid joining in on the excitement of the rest of the squadron. Usually, Poe would be amongst the first to make a comment about getting rid of first order scum one by one - but he's tired.

Ever since Poe joined the Resistance, he's been dedicated, climbing up the ladder, worked on becoming the best pilot he can be, focused on defeating the enemy. People jokingly call him the Resistance poster boy... yet lately he's just been feeling guilty, as if he's betraying the cause he's dedicated his life to. Poe struggles to see himself as the leader people want him to be when he can be affected by someone who is supposed to be his enemy.

"What's the plan?" Wexley asks, noticing that Poe has been quiet for a while. It's unlike the pilot who usually always finds something witty to say. Hell, Poe has put on more shows than one can count, even on the battlefield.

"Start the descent to Jakku," Poe clears his throat, slowing down a bit. His gaze lazily zoomed across the stars that are scattered all around them. "Let's make sure the first order never receives those weapons."

"Roger that."

"Aye."

Poe watches as his squadron turns to the sand planet. Poe stays behind, wanting to watch their backs and take a change from leading. However, Poe doesn't get the chance to start his descent to Jakku before his radar beeps. His dark eyes are glued to the screen in a split second. One dot. One ship has joined them, arriving from somewhere in light speed.

"We've got company!" Poe warns the others but they're already too far gone to catch that. Poe is on his own.

As Poe skillfully flips his ship around to point the nose of the X-wing toward the enemy, he recognizes the ship. It's not just another TIE fighter. It's you.

Kylo Ren's little spy. Poe hates your guts, or at least he's convinced himself of that. He's called you every name in the book but prefers scrampweasel, sneaky little spy-worm or the simplest of all - shadow rat. Very creative. He's trying them out to see if any names will stick.

Poe hates how you're doing your own thing, no squadron, no rules. You appear whenever and wherever, usually at the worst of times, only to wreak havoc and piss him off. He hates how you slip away from situations that you should never get away from, how you spy on people and run back to Kylo Ren to tell him your intel. He hates how damn smart and resourceful you are and you're his enemy. He wishes your skills could be used for the good of the Resistance instead.

"You're late to the party, scrampweasel," Poe connects his comms to your ship. Staring you down from afar. He can imagine how you look in that ship, probably pissed that the first order squadron has been wiped out.

"Nah," You simply reply, your voice slightly distorted due to the comms system. "Also you've done better than scrampweasel, poster boy."

"Ouch, you're breaking my heart, sweetheart," Poe mutters sarcastically, "unfortunately I'm not taking constructive criticism right now." A few buttons are pressed. His ship buzzes to life as he loads his weapons again. Loading...

BB-8 beeps nervously as he recognizes your voice and ship. You and Poe have been head to head many times before, in the sky, on land, probably underwater. It always gets out of hand, it's always chaotic and especially when flying, the poor droid will get a good scare when Poe flies like a maniac after you.

"Where are your friends, Dameron?" You ask, noticing that he's alone.

Seems like the rest of the Black Squadron descended on Jakku, or at the very least entered the planet's atmosphere before you got here. Unless Poe tells them what's going on by turning the long distance comms on, they won't know until they notice that he never followed them to Jakku. Perhaps it's better that way.

"It's just you and me," Poe mutters and feels his pulse quicken. His weapons are almost fully loaded now yet a small part of him knows that you're too quick and smart to just wait for him to blast your ship to pieces. This is a standoff that's just the start of your usual dance that you always, always, find a way out of.

BB-8 beeps at Poe, reminding him that he's there too.

"I know, buddy," Poe reassures the droid, turning off the comms while speaking to him. As he listens to the intense beeping, he smirks because he can tell BB-8 knows what's coming.

"Too bad. No one will be around to see you get your ass dragged," You sigh into the comms, riling him up. It's your specialty.

Poe shakes his head and rests his thumb on the buttons again, one click away from blasting you into Jakku's atmosphere. He hesitates.

"Why aren't you doing anything?" Poe asks, suspecting that something is off. You haven't tried to blast him, not even once. Are you... stalling? "Performance issues?"

PEW

Poe saw it coming from a mile away, the first red blast from your ship. He laughs as adrenaline courses through his veins, ducking from the rain of blasts coming his way. This little tug of war you've got going on is fun for him.

"Now we're talking, baby!"

"You're so weird," You groan and set off into a compelling chase.

Poe speeds up, avoiding your blasts like second nature. BB-8 screeches as it begins. Then at top speed, Poe lowers his ship and slows down. You fly right past him, surprised by his dropping speed. Now he's behind you. He clicks down on the blast button as green light flickers across his face with each beam.

Of course, none of them hit you. Poe has convinced himself that you're just a good enough pilot to avoid getting blasted too easily. It's a lot for him to even think that a first order spy is a good pilot. He thinks it's just an unfortunate truth. He'd never consider the thought that he avoids vital parts of your ship on purpose, because then he'd be taking mercy on an enemy. Poe can't do that.

You're leading him away from Jakku. Taking your sweet time.

Poe is stalling because he wants to give his squadron enough time to stop the weapons trade on Jakku. You're stalling because you think Poe is alone and you want to give the team on Jakku enough time to finish the trade. Poe feels like he has the upper hand. He just needs to keep you distracted for just a little longer...

"Have you thought about my offer?" Poe wonders curiously, speeding up behind you. Every time you meet like this, he asks you to switch sides. Or at least to consider it. However, the way he delivers his offer makes it hard to tell just how serious he is.

"How's this for an answer?" You reply angrily and make a 180. Poe takes a sharp right as you blast back at him, your beams meeting his and creating a bright firework effect. You both have to fly away from each other to regain composure.

Every time the answer is the same.

"Is that a maybe?" He teases and tries to lock the automatic target tracking system on you again. The box tries to lock around the dot that represents your ship on the screen but you're expertly flying side to side to avoid detection. Poe has to take aim manually.

"The thought of seeing you every day and taking orders from you makes me a bit sick, actually," You insist harshly.

"But you have no issue taking orders from Kylo Ren?" Poe raises his brow although you can't see him.

Silence.

Poe is surprised that you didn't have a lively remark up your sleeve at that. He finds it odd, considering your reputation as Kylo Ren's pet spy. Thought you'd be quicker to defend him.

"Don't question my alliances."

"Maybe I should? Maybe you should?" Poe pushes a bit more, giving you so many opportunities to surrender and switch sides. He's giving you more mercy than most others. Poe tells himself it's only because you have skills that the Resistance could use. That's all.

BB-8 beeps suddenly, warning Poe of company. Another dot appears on the radar, far away. It's not one of his own. Poe thinks you've got backup, so he says nothing. Just prepares to fight you and some other first order scumbag.

What happens next completely takes him by surprise.

The first order ship that appeared takes a shot at you.

"Kriff me!" Poe curses, shocked at the events that unfold before his eyes. He has to back off to avoid getting blasted as well. The other ship comes closer and Poe recognizes it.

That's Kylo Ren.

At the sight of the approaching vessel, Poe gets ready to get out of there and fast. He's on his own and even if he'd like to blast Kylo Ren into bits and pieces, he can't do it on his own. The smart move is to go to Jakku and rejoin the rest of the Black Squadron, who by now have probably sabotaged the weapons trade and that's why Kylo Ren is here.

Poe speeds up his ship, heading toward Jakku. Things just got real.

As he flies away, and his heart beats like crazy, Poe thinks about what just happened.

Kylo Ren blasted you down.

"Kriff," He curses again, slamming his hand at the cockpit dashboard. Maybe it's shock. Poe certainly didn't see that coming. The one person you've been loyal to just discarded of you like it was nothing. Poe just knows your ship crashed on Jakku. He shouldn't care. He should just keep moving, find his squad.

But a thought forms in the back of his mind. Poe should be responsible and make sure that you're dead. Yeah, so he can know for sure that you won't cause any more problems. That this chapter is over.

Poe changes his course and programs the systems to track your ship. BB-8 makes a concerned noise, worried about Poe.

"Just tying up loose ends," Poe explains to the droid. "She could be alive. She... could be..." He trails off. Poe can't believe what he saw.

Why would Kylo do that?! Why would he dispose of the best spy the first order has? Sure, you didn't spy in the traditional sense by being a mole or anything like that - you actually stalked your targets and stayed in the shadows most of the time, dug up information that most people would never find. Surely, a valuable asset for someone like Kylo Ren.

As Poe enters the atmosphere, beginning his descent on the dark side of Jakku, he locates the crash site. Then he flies toward it, his gut wrenching oddly as he thinks about what he might find. Poe tells himself he only feels this way because he's so shocked by Kylo's unexpected actions.

"He must be losing it," Poe mutters to BB-8, questioning Kylo's grip on reality and his sanity as the war gets worse with time - as does the pressure on both sides.

No matter how many times Poe checks the radar, he can't see any signs of Kylo following him. It's incredibly suspicious but Poe keeps going.

He lands behind a sand dune and instructs BB-8 to stay put.

Then he starts making his way to the crash site. He can smell it, the bitter smoke lingering in the air. Your ship is in pieces, halfway covered in sand and flames. Too remote and desolate that Jakku's infamous scavengers haven't come to collect parts yet. This looks bad.

Poe puts his hand on his blaster as he gets close, unsure if he can trust you if you're alive. It's dark outside, night having fallen upon this side of Jakku. A sand desert with no life in sight. Just your wrecked ship and a sky full of stars. The flames on the debris create a dim, orange glow.

Then he sees you.

You've managed to crawl out of the cockpit but you've slumped down only a few feet away from the ship. Bloody, bruised, helmet broken. It's a miracle your skull didn't take a bigger hit when you crashed. Poe doesn't even think about it, he runs up to you.

"You're alive," He says in shock. Then Poe freezes, unsure what to do.

You're his enemy. You've spied for the first order for the longest time. Even though Kylo Ren shot you down now, it doesn't erase your past.

You lift your head weakly to look him in the eye. Poe notices how tears mix with the blood on your face. Those eyes... even when you're full of anger, he hates to notice just how captivating you are. Surely an attribute that's helped you in your spying and scamming ways.

"What are you doing here?!" You ask him and groan in pain as you fail to push yourself up. It doesn't take a genius to tell that something is most certainly broken. Poe cringes as he sees how injured you are. He almost feels bad.

That's a good question.

He opens his mouth to speak. It's a rare moment of Poe Dameron feeling speechless.

A cold breeze of desert wind makes the flames dance a bit brighter, sand hitting you both in the face. Days on Jakku can be scorching hot but the nights are definitely a cold pain in the ass too.

"Too scared to finish the job?" You ask him in tears, unsure whether it's rage or the pain of betrayal that has you falling apart. Of course, you're aware that it was Kylo who shot you down. You saw him approaching the scene, thinking he was gonna back you up. Thinking he was gonna deal with the trade on Jakku. But no.

Kylo shot you down because he felt you were getting attached to the enemy, too soft-hearted to kill, therefore no longer trustworthy. Apparently, he could sense you had failed to use your full potential against Poe in battle. After everything you'd done for Kylo, he stopped trusting you because of the damn Resistance fly boy.

As you face Poe, in your weakest moment, you see your own failure reflected on his entire being. It's his fault!

"You...for maker's sake, you really should've questioned where your loyalty lies!" Poe scolds you and then covers his mouth with his hand, struggling to compose himself. He hates seeing you like this. Bloody, trembling in pain, too weak to get up. The rage in your eyes is unlike anything he's seen before.

"I was weak," You admit and hang your head in both shame and pain. There's a throbbing headache that's banging in your skull, making it hard to think. Is this it? Is Poe really the last person you'll see? Is this how it ends?

Poe grabs his blaster and takes a shaky breath. He paces a bit, kicking the scrap that's scattered across the dune as your ship fell apart. He knows what he should do.

"If you don't have the guts to finish the job, I'll die anyway," You tell him sharply, grasping onto your tough exterior. Even when facing potential death, you're hiding behind a wall of your own creation.

Poe turns to look at you with a dark look in his eyes. He just nods, indicating that he's listening to you. He hasn't felt this conflicted in a long, long time. The easy thing to do now is to kill you and no one would ever question it. You're an enemy.

"I'll either bleed out here or Kylo will send someone to finish the job," You explain, knowing the ways of the first order. No job is left unfinished or half-assed, at least not when Kylo is in charge. This was personal and he would hate to leave you living.

"You win," You whisper now, thinking about how many times you and Poe have been in battle. How many opportunities you've both had to kill or hurt the other yet you haven't, only prolonging this game of yours. It had to come to an end eventually.

"If you have mercy, you finish the damn job..."

Poe closes his eyes as he listens to you. He can't take it. His blood begins to boil the longer he stays uncharacteristically quiet and takes in your pitiful words. It's sickening that you believe what you're spewing.

"Mercy?" Poe snaps now, "You call this mercy?!"

The pain is getting worse as you use your last bits of strength to keep your head up, looking at Poe. Like tiny daggers sinking into your skin all over, white hot agony burning up your neck. There's probably scrap pieces of metal in your flesh, or at least it feels like it.

"You fool," Poe growls, but his voice cracks a bit. He pities you. "You should've...should've seen this coming..." Poe keeps lecturing, then he sinks down onto his knees. He grabs your shoulders and turns you around, making you lie on your back and stop using your strength to keep your head up.

The movement makes you wince in pain, although there's undeniable relief in being able to lie down. There's not even an attempt to fight back.

Being angry is exhausting. It's so damn tiring. Every day it's the mask you put on. Something to hide behind. The only way to make people take you seriously.

As you look up at the stars, you don't have the energy to be angry anymore. Instead, an overwhelming wave of sadness crashes over you. Like a blanket, weighing you down. It's cold and ugly, making your heart feel like is gonna tear to pieces. Maker be damned, you're crying in front of Poe Dameron.

"Well I didn't see it coming," The words leave your mouth in a whimper, lips forming a small pout. The lump in your throat is too hard to swallow or ignore. The emotions you've bottled for so long are finally spilling over.

Poe is surprised by the change in demeanour, sensing raw vulnerability. He looks at your injuries, trying to find the worst ones. Trying to help. He's hesitant, almost nervous as he brushes his fingers over your bloody shirt. He's never touched you this gently.

"Are you happy?"

Poe freezes for a second. You can see that his jaw is clenched and the vein on his forehead stands out. He looks so tense.

"No," Poe is honest, "I'm not. I don't think you were meant for this."

"You don't even know me."

"You're not meant to waste your skills on an useless organization like the first order and die while being loyal to an unpredictable maniacal hothead like Kylo Ren," Poe insists harshly, looking you directly in the eye. "I'm not happy. I made it clear long ago that I wanted you to switch sides and realize your potential. You still have that potential but you need to open your damn eyes!"

Taken aback by his rant, you just blink at him. To think this is the man you've been bantering with for a while now, always thinking it was out of pure spite. He actually saw good in you.

"I'm not like Finn."

Poe hates how stubborn you are. He clenches his jaw as he carefully lifts your shirt, revealing a nasty wound. He threads a thin line as he tries to remain respectful while also having to reveal your skin in order to assess the wounds. A piece of metal is lodged under your skin, bleeding crimson all over your skin, your shirt and now his hand. Poe doesn't try to remove the metal, knowing it's hindering even worse bleeding. He has no bacta spray on him but if he could get you to his ship, he could treat you.

"No, but he did the right thing and saw through all that first order nonsense. Others can do that too," Poe insists as he rips his shirt and uses the fabric to compress the wound. It's not clean but it'll have to do until he gets actual first aid supplies.

"Aaah!" You cry out sharply, squirming as he pushes the fabric into the biggest wound in your abdomen. It hurts like hell but it slows down the bleeding for now.

Poe hates hearing you cry out in pain.

"What are you doing?"

Poe can't believe what he's about to say;

"I'm saving your life."

Neither can you.

You close your eyes and grit your teeth, having no choice but to endure the pain. In a desperate attempt to understand what's happening, your brain rakes through every explanation but comes up empty. It makes no sense that Poe is helping you. He has no reason to.

"I don't deserve it..."

Poe's heart just breaks at that. He knows you're supposed to be his enemy but something tells him to help. That there's good in you and the reason you haven't killed him is because deep down you want Poe and the Resistance to succeed. He truly thinks you can do what Finn did and one day you'll laugh about how you were 'enemies'. That everything will be okay.

"Come on, let's get you up," Poe says surprisingly gently. He grabs you securely, under the arms as he lifts you up slowly. It hurts, it hurts so bad to even try to stand. But he's got you.

"What are you doing?" You ask again, choked up on tears and unable to phantom that someone like him would help someone like you. The sand is soft and unforgiving under your feet, forcing you to cling to Poe for support. Maybe it's instinctual, something deep and primal within you that clings onto survival, but you find yourself holding onto his arm and jacket so tightly that you're afraid you'll break him.

"There we go," Poe says softly and leads you toward his ship. His arm wraps around your waist as he supports you. There's truly nothing around these dunes. Just sand as far as the eye can see. Had he not come, there's no doubt in his mind that you would've bled out all alone in the cold. It's not a pleasant thought.

Finally, you reach his ship. Poe makes you sit down on the co-pilot seat. Then he begins to rummage through his stuff, finding the first aid kit that everyone is always supposed to keep onboard. He finds something that he can use. Bacta spray. Poe shakes the container and then uncaps it, spraying the cooling spray on your wound to disinfect it.

You watch as he works on you, patching you up so that you won't bleed out on him. Hopefully, you'll hold on until the Resistance base.

"You shouldn't help me."

"I probably shouldn't," Poe agrees and shrugs. He rips a package open with his teeth and grabs a handful of gauze. "You're really...messed up," He mutters as he sees the injuries in better lighting. It's disheartening to witness such wounds on anyone.

"I...I failed..." You whisper, leaning against the seat as reality begins to sink in. Kylo could sense it, there was no denying it. You were fully aware that you were going easy on Poe, letting him go when you had chances to hurt him, letting Poe defeat you on many missions. You hate Poe yet you let it happen. He's infuriating, always getting on your nerves yet you always prolonged every standoff with him. It makes no sense.

"What do you mean?" Poe asks gently as he throws bloody gauze away and uses fresh patches to soak up more blood. There's gotta be something else he can use in that kit. He drops more stuff on the floor of his ship as he tries to find something useful.

"I was supposed to kill you or... or capture you," The revelation doesn't really come as a surprise. Poe knows that he has quite the price on his head after becoming such a high-ranking member of the Resistance and successfully escaping from Kylo Ren's watch multiple times.

"But you haven't done that," Poe states the obvious.

You shake your head.

"I...I haven't. I didn't... I didn't want to," You confess. There it is. A simple truth. You didn't want to hurt or capture the enemy.

Poe stops in his tracks for a moment. He sighs deeply and meets your eye, his own eyes searching for answers so desperately, hoping that you can mend his own similar confusion. Why hasn't he let you die either? He's had many opportunities.

"Funny thing," Poe cracks a small smile although he's far from amused, "I haven't been able to kill you either, although I probably should've. And could've. You're a terrible pilot, got that auto tracker on you in seconds."

That's the Poe you're used to, a fucking smartass.

You chuckle, even at the cost of a shot of pain in the abdomen as your muscles tighten.

"Yeah yeah, I'm sure that's the case." A small curl tugs at the corners of your lips as well.

"Could've blasted you out of the sky a million times," Poe insists as he cleans your wounds. He's distracting you from the worst pain by talking and consequentially talking shit.

"Bad timing, you insensitive-"

"Woah, woah, woah!" Poe interrupts you before you can insult him and he laughs softly. "Don't I get a pass for coming here to save you?" He asks and then gives you a look that you can only describe as a man having puppy dog eyes. What's his issue and why is he so cute and charming?

"Whatever," You smirk and sigh shakily. His words don't actually offend. They're kind of comforting right now. Everything feels so scary as the life you know has changed completely. The moment Kylo shot you down, there was a disconnect from your previous life and the present.

"Everything's gonna be okay," Poe promises a bit more seriously now, "but you're gonna have to switch teams. Don't you want that?"

It's a valid question. The difference from the million times he's asked that before versus now is that Poe can see your expression.

Your gaze sinks to the floor as you think about it. It's an offer that has tempted you before but you've denied out of fear and an obscure sense of loyalty to someone you thought you could trust.

After thinking for a while, you finally break the silence.

"It's gonna suck to take orders from you," You mutter and gather the courage to face Poe. To see his reaction.

He seems happy. Relieved. It's weird that he can smile and trust that someone like you will turn out good. But if he believes in you, maybe there's hope.

"Don't knock it 'til you try it. Maybe you'll like it," Poe wiggles his brows playfully.

A/N: Forcing myself to stop here before I turn this into a series or smut (or both??)

[m00ntunaart]

A “thesis essay” on my thoughts on young Bobadin vs. canon (older) Bobadin

Been thinking about my current favorite ship, Bobadin. Specifically younger Bobadin. Most Boba and Din shipping I see is from The Mandalorian and The Book Of Boba Fett era. Which makes sense, it’s when they meet. Which is Boba at like roughly 41 and Din roughly 39 (in that range at least).

And I like this version of Bobadin the best honestly. Older/middle aged Bobadin makes the most sense. Both of them clearly are stubborn, have tempers and middle aged man grumpiness lol. And I love them both for it. But they both also are mellow in a lot of ways. I think this is most clear in Boba, who as a younger person is VERY angry and hotheaded. He has a lot of reasons to hate the world. He holds grudges (fairly tbh) against the Jedi and Republic. But TBOBF/The Mandalorian Boba we see seems to have cooled his temper somewhat. He seems more comfortable with himself and seems to control/direct his anger in more specific ways. A lot of that ‘ready to pop at anytime’ anger seems to have faded.

In the other side, we don’t ever see a younger/teen Din (I know we see him being saved by the Children of The Watch as a kid, but we don’t ever see what his personality is like). So we can’t canonically know what Din was like as a younger person, but I like to headcanon that he too was a bit more hotheaded. We see Din in canon can be very sweet and willing to help others (his a million side quests and willingness to bargain for stuff instead of outright fighting people). He generally is calm and doesn’t emote a ton. But he still can be grumpy and have moments of temper (shooting at droids he doesn’t like, trying to use the flame thrower on the Jawas). So I headcanon, much like Boba, he used to have a much quicker temper (especially for droids) and probably was even more grumpy (angsty teen Din feels very on brand for him lol).

I explain all this because canon timeline Bobadin has them meeting at a time in their lives where they are older, and have had time to mellow out. They both know who they are (okay Din might be having a crisis over his faith and religion but it’s fine, he gets better), and they both are less quick to start unnecessary violence. I think this is why Boba and Din seem to get along so quickly after their, admittedly, rough first meeting. Boba has Fennec threaten Din’s kid at gun point because he thinks Din has stolen his armor. Din doesn’t help himself either by saying the armor belongs to the Mandalorians (I can easily see how Boba could have taken this as Din rubbing it in his face that Boba isn’t a Mandalorian and doesn’t deserve his armor. And we know this might be an opinion Boba has run into before because Bo-Katan basically say as much when she sees him later in the show.) But despite this, very rough start, Din gives Boba his armor once Boba proves it’s his, despite Boba threatening his kid. And Boba doesn’t take immediate insult to Din’s initial reaction AND goes way above and beyond to help Din get his son back. Both of them could have held grudges or reacted heatedly to the others actions. I could see how from both their perspectives how an aggressive reaction would be reasonable. But they don’t. They both act rationally, and don’t go out of their way to escalate the situation with the other needlessly (okay I know Boba literally started by holding Grogu at gun point but from Boba, that’s pretty tame I think 😂😅)

All this to say, I think the place and time in their lives has shaped them enough that in this meeting, they both end up getting along anyways despite everything. I mean Boba kinda just hops on Din’s Grogu rescue crusade immediately and Din’s willingness to go to lengths to help Boba in TBOBF later show how absent of a grudge they hold. You can probably chalk Din’s willingness to die for Boba’s cause up to him wanting to honor how Boba helped save his son. After all, we know how Mandalorians, especially Din’s type of Mandalorian, appreciate those who save and protect children. But I also just think Din at that point probably respects and likes Boba to some extent. And again, I think the ease of their relationship partially just comes from their age and experiences. They are seasoned enough in life to not jump any guns, and instead take the chance to back the other up. And it pays off, they are allies and get along in canon (and not in canon, m00ntunaart thinks they like-like each other lol).

Which brings me to my a main thought of this post: I don’t think if Boba and Din had met at a younger age (anytime pre Boba falling into the Sarlacc) that they would have as easily fell into a comfortable relationship (allies, friendship, romantic or otherwise). In fact, my biggest thought was ‘I don’t think a younger Boba would even like Din’. (Not at first at least).

Which might sound weird considering I do ship Bobadin and I actually have drawn more ‘younger Bobadin’ than ‘canon age Bobadin’. But the more I think of it, the more sure I am that these boys would have been at each other’s throats at any earlier time than when they canonically met. Which makes younger Bobadin even more interesting to me.

Like previously said, we know younger Boba was a lot angrier of a person. And we can’t know for sure, but I assume (headcanon) Din probably was a lot angrier too (if not just probably more grumpy/quick to temper). So if they had met in a similar way as younger men, they definitely would have not had the same wherewithal to not come to blows. I don’t think either Boba or Din would have held back from immediately getting angry and just resorting to fighting the other. Which makes sense to be honest. This isn’t what makes younger Bobadin fascinating to me though. What makes it fascinating, is that based on what we know of young Boba I think he would have hated Din on sight.

The biggest reason I think this is 1. Boba has clear issues with everything related to his dad. And I’ve seen tons of interpretations on how Boba might view his dad later in life. I lean towards some middle ground of ‘Boba loves his dad and grieves/misses him, but definitely holds some resentment for how his Dad died and left him with basically no support system’. With the added mental fuckedness of Boba probably thinking in the back of his mind “what made me the clone chosen to be Jango Fett’s son? Could he have easily chosen a different clone?” Also just in general probably the mind fuck of being a clone of your dad and a million other clones of your dad existing lol. But long story short, Boba has Daddy Issues, and I could see how this would probably translate to him have issues with everything related to his dad. Including Mandalorians in general. Now forgive me for this if I’m wrong, I couldn’t remember and couldn’t find a clear answer in my research, but I don’t believe Boba is a Mandalorian. By technicality, he could count since a child of a Mandalorian is Mandalorian by nature. But I don’t think Boba ever really claimed the title of Mandalorian or seems to want to be one. And a headcanon on this I’ve seen, that I really enjoy, is that this is because he has issues with his Dad and his Dad’s history. He didn’t get to be raised a Mandalorian because his Dad died. He didn’t get that culture, and seemingly (again based on Bo-Katan’s reaction) some Mandalorians seem to view him as not Mandalorian by virtue of being a clone. This is definitely breeding grounds for a young Boba Fett to have a lot of resentment towards the Mandalorians and their culture. After all, it’s easier to hate a something than to feel the pain of never getting to be a part of it.

ALL OF THAT TO SAY, young Boba would take one look at young Din, and probably hate him. Just by virtue of being a Mandalorian. OH- and once he finds out Din is part of a covert that used to be part of the Death Watch? That’s not gonna earn Din any points. (Even if Boba denies his Mandalorian heritage, I imagine he still hold his familial Haat’ade grudge against Death Watch. They killed his Dad’s dad tbf.)

This is an interesting idea to me, because in opposition to this, I think on sight Din would think favorably of Boba. Based on Din’s reaction to the Night Owls in The Mandalorian, the covert never told him about other Mandalorians. He would see Boba (who we know at a young age didn’t remove his helmet much in front of others) and just assume he’s one of his type of Mandalorian (who in Din’s mind are the only type of Mandalorian). I think Din probably has this view that all Mandalorians are trustworthy and honorable because he comes from a small community of Mandalorians who all live by the same morals and creed. His only experience with other Mandos are with his own people. He wouldn’t think to not like or not trust Boba. He just sees him, thinks he’s Mandalorian, thus he must be a good person. Because ‘all Mandalorians are honorable, right?�� (Oh poor Din, how naive. Dude lived under a rock (sewer I guess) his whole life and doesn’t know there are a lot of shitty Mandalorians throughout history).

So you have a young Boba who sees Din and is like ‘Ugh a fucking Mandalorian 😒😡’, verses a young Din who sees Boba and is like ‘oh a Mandalorian! 😃’. This set up is so fun to me. I wish I saw more young Bobadin because of this. Their world views and personalities are so different at this point in time. It’s such a fun idea and contrast to older, much chiller, Bobadin. Young Bobadin is complicated and probably violent lol. They’re angry young men who don’t have the temperament to talk to each other long enough to realize the other is an okay person. There’s some fun ‘enemies to friends to lovers’ dynamics you can work from this.

But, I’m not quite done with this point. So aside from their differing opinions, temperaments, cultures and views on the world, I also think there’s another reason young Boba probably wouldn’t be impressed with a young Din:

BOBA FETT IS LIKE A LEGENED? Guys, Boba is just a badass. Like come on. Dude, from childhood, half raised himself and half was raised by criminals and bounty hunters. He was in jail with adults AS A CHILD. He was one of the most infamous bounty hunters. So good at his job DARTH VADER hired him. He’s the son of Jango Fett, the like semi-disgraced Mand’alor’s heir. HIS LORE IS INSANE. Dude has had one of the most messed up childhood and life, and came out semi-on top. Boba is an icon for being beat up by the universe, and surviving just to spite everyone.

I say all this because in comparison, DIN IS KINDA GOOFY? Dude lives in a religious cult (I’m kinda joking, the covert is kinda cult-y lol) IN THE SEWERS. HE LIKE A SEWER RAT OF A MANDALORIAN. HIS ORIGINAL ARMOR LITERALLY WAS JUST HALF JUNK HALF ACTUAL ARMOR. HE’S LITERALLY A JUNK RAT OF A MAN. Dude knows only a quarter of any world politics at anytime, and knows NOTHING about Mandalorian history. LESS THAN BOBA WHO DOESN'T EVEN CLAIM TO BE MANDALORIAN. HE WINS MOST HIS FIGHTS BUT NOT BEFORE USUALLY GETTING HIS ASS BEAT AND ALMOST DYING, THEN SOMEHOW WINNING AT THE LAST MINUTE BY DOING SOMETHING INSANE. HE SEEMS TO SURVIVE BY THE SEAT OF HIS PANTS, HALF BY SKILL HALF BY BEING THE UNIVERSE’S UNINTENTIONAL MAIN CHARACTER. (I say all this lovingly, I love Din. I just also love making fun of him)

Basically, I think legend and bad ass of Star Wars, Boba Fett, would take one look at rat-boy Din Djarin and would not be impressed. But that’s more in a funny/ironic way. I’ve already given my serious, thoughtful reasons for why young Bobadin would not get along at first, but yeah it doesn’t help that Boba is like a semi-celebrity in the Bounty Hunting world and Din in comparison is like a podunk hillbilly who can’t seem to die lol.

But hey, just like canon (older) Bobadin, I think they would eventually come to like each other. It just takes longer and they probably try to kill each other a few times. Which is basically a Mandalorian’s way of flirting so it still works.

[vodika-vibes]

Consider

Senior Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi, who gets half disowned by Qui-Gon Jinn in front of the council for a 10 year old boy who only knows about Jedi from stories that spacers tell, and mentally says, "fuck this," before politely asking Master Yoda if he could begin in Knighthood trials since his Master just disowned him. Kinda.

Master Windu, who has been nagging Qui-Gon about sending Obi-Wan to his trials for a year already, jumps at the chance. "Congratulations, Knight Elect Kenobi! I will personally be administering your trials!"

"Wait," Qui-Gon says, "I didn't okay this—"

"You just said that he was ready for his trials," Master Windu points out.

"Uh..."

"Further!" Mace continues, gleefully, "Now that you have chosen to take a very young Padawan, we have to remove you from the mission you're currently on."

"Hold on—"

"Surely," Mace says as if Qui-Gon hadn't spoken, "You don't expect the council to okay you taking an untrained ten year old into an active war zone?"

"Of course not."

"So glad we agree. Knight Elect Kenobi will take your place as lead Knight on this mission, with myself and Master Koon as his evaluators, and assistants should the need arise." Mace finishes decisively.

"And does Master Yoda have nothing to say on this matter?" Qui-Gon asks.

Mace's smile is all teeth, "I am the Master of the Jedi Order, Qui-Gon. Or have you forgotten that."

In the end, Obi-Wan protects Padme Amidala and her handmaidens while they retake the palace of Theeds. Mace Windu systematically thrashes Maul Oppress and takes him in for questioning and to help him undo years of brain washing. And Plo Koon personally destroys the droid control ship hovering in space.

All in all, it's a good ending. Save for Obi-Wan, who has a year full of complicated tests and trials to finish before he can be Knighted.

[pedroam-bang]

Star Wars Jedi: Survivor (2023)

[sw5w]

Artoo Standing Guard

STAR WARS EPISODE II: Attack of the Clones 00:12:53

[thevalleyisjolly]

I think it's painfully realistic that Cassian wants to stop fighting, and I don't think it undermines the truth of his arc in Season 1. Season 1 showed how an ordinary person becomes radicalized, how the injustices Cassian suffers drives him to honestly commit himself to the Rebellion. And then Season 2 shows the continual toll that rebellion takes. He has to leave his loved ones behind, again and again, and in his absence they are no less at risk. They suffer and they die. He's mistrusted and challenged by the people on his own side. He's seriously injured with lasting wounds that affect his ability to live his life. He witnesses atrocities and is himself forced to kill or be killed. Anyone going through just one of those things, no matter how much they believe in the rightness of their cause, would find it difficult to go on. Anyone could and would despair, yearn for an end to it all.

Yes, some people are able to fight on through solely the strength of their convictions, and yes, for people who are able to do that, it's frustrating, even insulting, when others constantly speak of quitting. But not everyone can do that. Not everyone is able to fight forever without a shred of doubt, a shred of exhaustion. And for Cassian, who has been fighting since he was six years old, I don't think wanting to stop shows a weak will or lack of conviction at all. It's anyone's natural response to a struggle that often seems impossible. You can wholeheartedly commit to a cause and still experience complete burnout.

I don't argue with interpretations that see Cassian as being forced to stay with the Rebellion solely because Bix leaves, there's textual evidence to understand the scene that way, but I would like to gently propose another view of the characters. Especially through Arc 3, Cassian has been looking for ways to stop - though not at the cost of the mission, he'll finish the mission first. On the flip side, Bix has been trying to stay involved, looking for purpose. The weapons that Luthen passes on to her for analysis, wanting to go with Cassian on assignments, building relationships with the other people on Yavin. By the end of Arc 3, Cassian is fully exhausted and Bix is fully awake. She feels the presence of a great narrative beyond any one person.

Yes, she leaves, and Cassian can no longer use their life together as a reason to stop. But was Cassian ever actually going to stop? He looked at a crushed security droid and his thought wasn't to leave it there but to go through the considerable extra effort of bringing it back to the Rebellion, see what could be done with it. He told Kleya that the Senate was his last mission- literal hours after surviving a massacre and seeing Wilmon stand his ground with the Ghor and refuse to flee, Wilmon who was only on Ghorman in the first place because Luthen put him there. And it's not as if Cassian can't fly a ship and isn't willing to leave the base without waiting for permission. We literally see him in Episode 7 defying Draven and leaving Yavin at a moment's notice. There is nothing actually stopping him from going after Bix, spending the rest of his life searching for her- and he doesn't. He listens to her message and he ultimately stays.

For all his talk of stopping, he never goes through with it. He could. It's clear that Luthen no longer has as much control over his operatives, Cassian has not yet sworn allegiance to the Alliance, and he has the means and the ability to leave and go after Bix if he really, truly wanted to quit. But he doesn't. And combined with everything he's been through, it makes for a narrative of hope amidst pain and difficulty. The constant struggle has worn him out, traumatized him, he doubts whether he has anything more left to give...and after all that, he still goes on, all the way to Scarif. And particularly now, I think that can be just as meaningful a story as that of someone who is always able to fight on tirelessly against fascism without a moment of fear or doubt.

[imaginesig]

"It's sad and it's sweet and I knew it complete / When I wore a younger man's clothes"

Poe Dameron x Solo-Organa!Reader

Based on this idea

One simple exchange makes Han realize that his child's relationship is not as bad as he makes it. Set before and during Star Wars: The Force Awakens but does not follow the plot 100% correct

Music themed master list

Complete masterlist pinned on my profile

The resistance was a force to be reckoned with. Despite the odds stacked against them, their Princess turned General forced them to have the upper hand. As amazing as Leia is, she would be the first to admit her family and many members of the resistance deserve credit for how far their cause has come. The first of which is her child, Y/n Solo-Organa.

~~~

“Another happy landing,” I exclaimed entering the base. R2-D2 let out many sassy beeps and buzzes in response, "I do not "fly like a Skywalker", I'm very careful and responsible." Dawn Breaker, my ship, was a little battered but with the state of my missions that always seemed to be the case. Artoo emitted a series low whistles at the smoky ship, I rolled my eyes and walked away from the droid. Fellow mechanics and pilots called out welcome to me as I set off to debrief with General Organa, my mother. I’ve always loved the base, the sounds of droids beeping all around, the clanking of mechanics working on ships, the hopeful chatter of a rebel force, and the smell of fuel mixed with the jungles of D'Qar. I walked down the familiar halls, hardly looking up from my mission report tablet a friendly protocol droid handed me; it wasn’t until I stepped into the meeting room I looked up. First, I met my mother’s warm, proud eyes, then I sent friendly nods to the members of staff who help her organize the rebellion, and finally my gaze landed on a man with dark curly hair, tanned skin, and the tiniest bit of facial hair.

“Have a seat Y/n so we may begin out debrief before the fighting is over” my mom jokes.

I roll my eyes and take a seat, ��yes General Organa.” The meeting begins in a blur of statistics, coordinates, and future plans. As much as I hate the nuance of a mission debrief, the future planning always makes me excited.

~

“Y/n stay a little please” my mother says. I make a playful groan and fall back into my seat.

“Someone tell Jordan I may not be out in time for the bar” I call over my shoulder while my mother rolls her eyes. I take notice it’s not just me and her, but the new guy from earlier.

“How was the mission? Are you alright?” There she is, not General Organa but my mom.

“I’m fine, minor bumps and bruises from combat flying but nothing I won’t survive.”

“Very good, you know I worry. Anyway this is Poe Dameron, the resistances newest pilot and commander,” oh so that’s who he is.

“I’ve heard the name: one of the best pilots in the galaxy?” I smirk over at him. The guy looked confident and a little cocky.

"Some would argue the best," he replies smoothly.

"Mmh, well some day that about me. I guess time will tell who the title belongs to," I muse.

Overlooking our exchange, my mother just smirks, clearly amused before she clears her throat, "Poe I asked you to sit in on this debrief because I wanted you to meet Lieutenant Y/n Solo-Organa, our top pilot and my child. Y/n, Poe will be in command of his own squad soon enough but I want him to join yours for the next couple of missions, to get a feel for things. You two are quite similar, I see a friendship in your futures."

I ponder her words and look over at Poe; he sends me a kind smile and I see a flash of mischief in his eyes. 'I see a friendship' I guess I do too mom, "Well Poe, I don't take things slow. I hope you can keep up."

He smiles brightly, "Try and lose me Luetentiant."

~

"Maker! You scared me!"

I laughed and walked away from where I was propped up on Dawn Breaker. I would never admit it to anyone but I was in the control room watching every detail of Poe's mission waiting until he got back. My mom was right, we did become friends, "well I didn't mean too sweetheart. I just knew your squad made it back from a successful mission and I wanted to be the first to say good job." BB8 rolled out from behind Black One, Poe's X-Wing, quickly and sent me a joyful greeting, "well hello to you as well. You did amazing BB8, truly the mission would've been a failure without you."

Poe rolled his eyes playfully, "thank you Y/n. I'm giving you a fight for the best pilot award."

"Mmh, sure you are flyboy," I chuckled. He was so cute when he was cocky, not that I should be thinking like that. We're in the middle of a war for Maker's sake! But, those thoughts of refusal washed away when I felt his arm sling around my shoulders. I slide mine around his waist so we can walk arm in arm to his first mission debrief, following behind an excited BB8. I only pulled away when the door was in sight to say, "Poe, you did amazing. I've never been impressed with anyone's flying skills and ability to think on their feet except my parents. Congrats on being the first outsider, General Organa is gonna love you."

Poe stares for a minute at me, I can tell he's processing the comment and what the future holds for him; I focus on his eyes, they're dark and swimming with brown details. The bright hallway light makes them pop, but I can't help but wish to see them in the sun. I give him a quick peck on the cheek and bit a good bye and good luck with his debrief before I take off down the hall, duty calls after all!

~

"Shit!"

"Poe? Talk to me Poe!" This was supposed to be a small, quiet recon mission. A mole informed the Resistance that they had information and were waiting on a nearby planet; turns out the First Order got here first. Currently, Poe and I are battling it out with a small squad.

"I'm losing my left wing," he replies, urgency laced in his voice.

"That's still flyable," I take a minute to think. There are 4 tie fighters left, Poe has wing damage, and my engine is overheating. Odds? We're screwed. I breathe in and call to the force. I like to believe my grandfather reaches out to me and suddenly he does as an absurd and stupid idea pops into my head. A tie fighter swoops into my eyesight and I shoot him down, "ok Poe remember at the bar the other day?"

"Y/n..."

"No I have a point, do you remember the bar the other day?"

"Yes!"

"We were joking about formation 'DS.'"

"Y/n you aren't serious," he's skeptical, I hear it. But I also hear intrigue. Before I can respond, desperate beeping emits from both R2-D2 and BB8; those two are a chatty and lethal combination when put together.

"Poe, the only other option I've got is get shot out of the air."

"Formation 'DS' it is." Neither droid like his reply. Anakin if you're there, please don't let us fail, don't let Poe get hurt.

"1,2,3, go!" The move was simple for us two but required a great deal of knowledge of the other. Poe and I took sharp turns away from one another, two tie fighters followed Poe's X-Wing while the other stayed on my tail. We quickly turned right back towards one another; Poe stayed straight and I slotted my small starship right between Black One's top wings. In the bar it worked perfectly, but in reality? Our right wings were to close and collided, causing our damage to worsen. On the bright side, two of the tie fighters crashed into one another attempting to chase us.

"2 down one to go!" Poe called, ignoring the metallic crunch of our ships. My path took me out the other side of Black One and facing the tie fighter, I shot the last round I had with great success, "whoooooo!! Formation 'DS' actually worked!"

"Whoop whoop!" I cheered before turning back to the issue at hand, "Poe we need to make an emergency landing before these starfighters give out on us."

"Yes ma'am!" He called before his X-Wing ducked to the surface of Naboo. I ignored the furious blush on my face and R2's low whistle as I follow him.

Once we make our hard, not so pretty landing in rural Naboo, I instruct Poe to help set up camp while I work on getting a signal.

"Ah there's Poe," my mother exclaims from the hologram, "I was beginning to question your honesty about his survival."

"General Organa," he nods towards her and smiles at me.

"While I have both of you," she begins, "we won't be able to get a rescue ship out until tomorrow. First Order attention is too high on Naboo right now due to the mole and your battle. We have no reason to believe you guys are in any danger, so make do for tonight and we'll work on getting someone out there as early as possible."

The droids began to complain, a series of quick and overlapping beeps emit. I groan before interrupting, "for Maker's sake, you drama queens will survive the night. We can strap you both back into the ships so you don't get damaged on the ground."

"Thank you General," Poe says, "Y/n I'm gonna go check our ships to see what we can use to make tonight work."

I smile and send him off. The minute Poe disappeared into the rich greenery of Naboo my mother speaks up, "I remember that smile."

"Excuse me?"

"That smile. I used to give it to a scruffy smuggler from Corellia. Although I will say he came with much more annoyance."

"Mom, don't start," I groan.

"I'm just saying, it's nice to reminisce on that fresh love feeling."

"I-"

"Don't deny me Y/n. I am your mother and I know when my own child is happy, is in love. We are in the middle of necessary and tough battles, but don't let that keep you from happiness. I know you can still focus on the task at hand."

"You're insane, I think dad's absence has finally driven you to madness." Mom rolled her eyes but decided this was not a fight to have. We bid our goodnight and I set off to find Poe. After walking a few paces, I stumbled across a beautiful lake. I could tell it stretched miles, the setting sun reflected off of the surface.

Suddenly a rattle behind me cause me to whip around and pull out my blaster, "Easy, its just me."

"Maker, Poe you scared me!"

"It was not my intention, scouts honor," he smiled and made a cross over his heart. I finally looked at him, really looked at him; there was dirt and ship gunk all over his face, sweat pressed his curls down, and some blood trickled down from his eyebrow. He was a mess, but a beauftul one, "enjoying the view?

"Just assessing the damages," I fire back, "your a mess."

"You're no better princess."

"First off my mother was the princess, not me. Second, I'd suggest washing off before it gets too dark and the droids flip out." Poe looks at me confused, until I begin to remove my shirt. He whips his head around the other way and I can see a slight blush, "Poe come on you can't stay like that. Who knows what kind of infection all that dirt could cause."

"I hate when you're right," he says with a smile. Soon enough both Poe and I are stripped down to our underwear and doing our best to scrub the battle reminisce off of our skin. I look up from the stubborn oil on my arm to see Poe already looking. He floated closer until I could see every detail of his eyes again. This time, they glowed in the sunlight; they looked like treasure chests I wanted to take for my own and cherish forever. His curls were defined from the lake water and they dripped slightly onto his face. I slowly reached up and rubbed off some dried blood he missed. My eyes trailed back to his and he smiled.

"You're beautiful," I whisper.

"So are you," he whispers back before leaning in. That kiss made time stop. When I felt his chapped lips on mine I felt like there was no war, my father wasn't missing, and we weren't stranded in Naboo wilderness. Maker, I hate when my mother is right. We pulled apart for air and rested our foreheads against each other.

"Poe, this is an awful time and we risk our lives everyday but I want this."

"Me too, princess."

~

The hallway seemed to swirl ever so slightly under the stormtrooper helmet I wore; this wasn't exactly ideal but I couldn't think of another way to freely roam the First Order ship. Poe was sent to Jakku to retrieve a map to Luke Skywalker and was captured. Leia appointed me to save him.

While walking down the prison corridor, I heard frantic whispers coming from an open cell. Peaking around the corner I saw an exposed storm trooper talking to Poe! Carefully walking up, I put the barrel of my stolen blaster up to the back of the storm troopers head, "I'll be taking him with me and it'll be in your best interest to stay quiet and let me." The two look confused, because of my very un-trooper like attitude. The stormtrooper notices me and I can see him figure me out; before I can think about blasting him, I'm pulled into the cell and the door slides shut.

"Don't shoot," he starts, "I'm helping him escape."

I take the helmet off and Poe's eyes light up, "Y/n!" I rushed towards him and hugged him.

"Poe! I was worried I'd be too late," he looked awful. It was apparent he'd been tortured; bruises and deep cuts littered his face and body, his clothes were dirty and torn.

"I'm alright princess," he smiled, "we'll need your help getting out."

"Do you have a ship of your own?" The stormtrooper asks.

"Yes, its hidden in the lowest bay."

"If we take a tie fighter, can you help shoot?"

"I can pilot and I have an Artoo unit who's a good shot."

The hanger was madness, blaster shots flew everywhere and the rebel tie fighter was still connected to the main ship, unable to fly away. We had no communication between the two ships, but I had faith in Poe and I. I swooped down in Dawn Rider and instructed Artoo to shoot the cable, which he did first try. From there we all shot out of the hanger, but not without company. The boys focused on shooting the ship's main cannons while Artoo used my ships shooting system to target enemy tie fighters. We were down to one and just as I was set to go in, the fighter hit the boys' ship and they went crashing back down to Jakku. "No!" I scream and shoot the fighter out of the air. Swiftly I make my way down to the wreckage.

On the planet's surface, I ran to towards the mess. I saw Poe's injured body crawling from the fighter's reminds, "Y/n."

"Poe, we need to go."

"But BB8," he rasps, "he has the map."

"No, we'll send someone else. BB8 is a smart droid, he'll be fine. Poe, you are far to hurt and the First Order's presence is far too hot." It took much convincing, but Poe let himself be loaded up into Dawn Rider and be taken back to D'Qar.

~

"You missed your debrief," I jumped at the voice of my mother. She was not who I was expecting to be standing in the hall when I excited the medical wing; visiting Poe during his recovery has been a daily occurrence for me.

"My squad was there to cover it," I shrug. This was a regular mission, not something secret or complicated. My mother grabbed my arm and walked me outside of the base. It was a lovely day and it felt good to feel fresh air.

"I know you're not a child anymore, but I miss the days when you would tell them things," I try to speak but she cuts me off, "now its all Resistance talk and battle plans. I know I haven't been the best mother and I'm sorry. Tell me something now, let me be present as more than a General."

I look at the clouds in the sky and take a deep breath, "this war was the only thing that mattered to me for so long. It felt good to get in Dawn Rider and fight for our cause, I knew what it felt like to survive. But getting to know Poe, now I know what it feels like to be alive. I don't just look forward to the next Resistance win, but now I get excited for all the in between; mealtime, workouts, data meetings, everything that involves Poe."

Mom pondered what I meant for a moment and eventually led us to a stop. She smiled down at me and cradled my face in her hands, "don't lose him."

"I won't mama."

"I mean it, you're stubborn and reckless like your father. Don't scare him away."

"If he kept you, I think my chances are pretty alright." We laughed, and for the first time in a long time, we walked together as mother and child.

~

The battle on Takodana brought my father back and many other wonderful joys. Falling into friendship with Finn and Rey was the easiest adjustment to make, harder was adjusting to my father being back.

"You know he hates me," Poe says, out of breath. It's early in the morning and we set out for a run trying to process recent developments away from the base.

"He does not," I defend but Poe sends me a knowing look. Well at least I think he doesn't. Since returning to mom and I, dad has been catching up on Resistance events and personal matters. Him and mom still have lots of forgiveness to give, so most of his focus lands on me. Upon figuring out of my relationship, dad has been insufferable; in true Han Solo fashion he won't actually say anything but his feelings have been made apparent. From small, degrading comments to shoulder checks in the hallway dad has not left Poe alone, "Poe you can't take him seriously. Han Solo is not a warm kind of guy and plus mom loves you! What could mean more than that?"

"You're right," he walks closer and brings me in by my hips. We meet in the middle for a small peck.

"I always am," I kiss him. It's sweet, but most importantly reassuring. Our moment only ends when I hear a beeping from my pocket. I groan playfully and pull out my communicator and see a hologram from my dad.

"Kid get back here its urgent." Me and Poe look at each other in horror as my father's figure disappears.

"We need to act now and act fast before the First Order can strike. Everyone go!" Commands my mother. Thanks to Finn, we have an inside view of the First Order's main weapon and a plan to destroy it.

In all the chaos, Poe and I run towards are ships and begin to prepare for battle; as stressed as we are there is a sense of calm to be found near one another. Artoo beeps at me and my attention is drawn over to my parents, they embrace and I smile. A warmth floods my chest knowing my family is begging to fall back into place. They look over at me and I call them over.

"Please be safe dad," I beg brining him into a hug.

"I was gonna ask the same of you kiddo," he replies, ruffling my hair.

"Black Squadron prepare for take off, (title) Y/n on your signal well following Dawn Squadron out," Poe calls. I nod and turn back in time to see dad roll his eyes.

"Dad," I tisk, "please give him a fair shot. I think you'll really like him."

"I highly doubt that," I roll my eyes and turn back towards my ship ready to take off. With one last smile at my parents I begin to climb the latter to the cockpit.

"Y/n, I love you!" Peo calls from his own. I can see the uncertainty in his eyes, but the hope in his voice. Large battles are always a two edged sword.

"I know," I respond before lowering the ship's lid and beginning the announcements for takeoff.

~~~

"Y/n, I love you!"

"I know!"

Han Solo stared wide eyed at Leia who sent him a knowing look. In a simple exchange the old man was brought back. A simple exchange of words catapulted Han years back:

It was cold and dark in the room and Han couldn’t see anything with the smoke rising up around him. Leia’s face glowed in the low light, and she looked as beautiful as ever despite the worry etched into her features. Han pressed forward to meet her soft, warm lips; this may be the last time he ever sees her again. Han Solo was a fighter, a smuggler, not a lover. Despite this, the women in front of him made his heart beat and head go light.

The moment was suddenly ruined by a pair of storm troopers pulling him away and towards the carbonite chamber. Leia is held back by Chewie as she calls, “I love you!”

Han refuses to let Vader see what he’s taking from him, the joy he finds in the women in front of him. Han knows this is the final way he can protect her, don’t let Vader know she’s his weakness. Han stands tall, and stays stone cold as he replies, “I know.”

Han felt Leia’s hand touch his arm, “they’re your child.”

“I’ve missed you,” and with that Han leaned in to capture Leia in a kiss. The kiss said it all, it flowed with apology and forgiveness; Han would never leave again.

I'm debating expanding on this more, maybe a series? Let me know what y'all think!!

Taglist:

@passionkillerphil

[renlyslittlerose]

another one: obi-wan struggles to just let go and take it (it being dick) so he has to be restrained for it. at his own request.

Mwuah! Thank you!!! 🥰🥰🥰

NSFW below the cut!

---

“Force, Obi-Wan, just let go for a second, will you?”

Obi-Wan’s grip lessened marginally around Anakin’s arms but they were still dug in, pressing into bruises that had long since blossomed. He at least had it in him to look embarrassed, the flush across his cheeks and chest not entirely from arousal, and when he spoke there was sincerity layered beneath the sharp bite of his words.

“Sorry for not being able to relax while you gyrate above me like a Bantha in heat,” he bit out, white teeth flashing in the dark. He shifted then, squeezing his walls tight around Anakin’s length.

Biting the inside of his cheek, Anakin tried his hardest not to move, and instead pinned Obi-Wan’s hips down on to the bed. “You asked me to take you away for a few hours, but you’re still trying to drive the ship.”

“I am not.”

“You are so."

“I’m perfectly relaxed.”

“I feel like I’m fucking a droid, you’re so tense.”

“Do I want to know why you’re able to make that comparison—”

Anakin let out a growl and slammed his hips up tight against Obi-Wan’s ass, shoving his cock in all the way, cutting Obi-Wan off mid-insult. Instead Obi-Wan made a high pitched keening sound in the back of his throat, the tendons in his neck tensing, his grip tightening once more along Anakin’s shoulders.

Holding back a groan of his own, Anakin kept himself tucked in close, his cock throbbing as it lay fully sheathed inside Obi-Wan. The hot, tight heat almost made Anakin want to give in - let Obi-Wan take control like he always did, despite his protests to the contrary.

But Obi-Wan had demanded Anakin’s strength; had writhed on Anakin’s lap, robes pulled away from his flushed chest, cock tenting the front of his trousers as he begged Anakin to fuck him ‘nice and proper.’ He’d been practically obscene the way he begged Anakin, pulling at his robes, teeth sharp along his bottom lip, tongue hot in his mouth as he ground and ground, pushing his clothed taint against Anakin’s responding arousal as he demanded his Padawan’s full attention.

Anakin had almost come right then and there, reverting back to his earlier days when all Obi-Wan had to do was so much as look at his cock to make him come. But he was a knight now, who had been given a mission by his Master: fuck him until he couldn’t think.

He was nothing if not dedicated to his cause.

Only Obi-Wan was trying to change the parameters of the mission.

“Don’t move,” Anakin demanded, his grip still firm along Obi-Wan’s waist, thumbs pushing into his hip bones until Anakin was positive he’d leave a mark.

“Okay, okay,” Obi-Wan said, finally conceding.

He let out a slow breath then, Anakin feeling it across his nose and lips. Another breath, and he relaxing around Anakin’s cock, his rim loosening until Anakin felt like he wasn’t going to rip it off the moment he tried to pull out. It took his hands a little longer to relax, fingertips still dug in to Anakin’s muscles, but when they too relaxed, Anakin finally started to move.

The glory of the moment only lasted a few careful rotations of Anakin’s hips before Obi-Wan was trying to claw back control. His legs came up to hook around Anakin’s waist, ankles locking together to keep Anakin pushed in tight. His hands moved from Anakin’s shoulders down his back, blunted fingernails dragging down the overheated skin of Anakin's back before he grabbed fistfuls of the muscles of his ass to drag him closer until Anakin was balls deep inside.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin warned, and bit Obi-Wan’s shoulder. Hard.

“Okay, okay,” Obi-Wan huffed out again. “This clearly isn’t working.”

“And whose fault is that?” Anakin asked.

“You’re just going to have to tie me up.”

Anakin raised his head and stared down at Obi-Wan. He wasn’t smiling, wasn’t even smirking. In fact, he looked quite serious. Anakin’s cock throbbed, coating Obi-Wan’s insides with his precome.

“Are you serious?”

“Believe me, I’m just as annoyed as you are,” Obi-Wan said.

He avoided Anakin’s gaze then, hiding in the deep shadows. Anakin pressed in closer, wanting to memorize how Obi-Wan looked in that moment - shamefaced and yet still so incredibly proud. Anakin’s cock throbbed again.

“You must really be desperate,” Anakin finally said.

“Oh do shut up,” Obi-Wan bit back.

“Did you hit your head on your last mission?”

Obi-Wan smacked Anakin’s hand away when he went to inspect his skull. “Just do as I ask, and stop asking questions.”

He pulled out of Obi-Wan with some regret, hissing as the cold air touched his heated length. Taking a moment to admire Obi-Wan’s puffy, stretched hole, Anakin gave in to his needs and unceremoniously sunk two of his fingers into Obi-Wan’s tight heat. He was warm and coated in Anakin's seed, and Anakin relished in the fact that he was only that loose because he’d been taking Anakin’s dick.

“Stop teasing,” Obi-Wan said with just the faintest tenor of begging.

He was at his wits end. Anakin never thought he’d see the day.

Taking his hand away, Anakin got off the bed and hurried into the shared living quarters between their rooms. Finding the pile of their discarded robes, Anakin looked for his belt and grabbed the thin, corded rope he always carried with him out of one of the satchels. Wrapping it around his wrist, he tugged at it a few times to make sure it wouldn’t cut Obi-Wan, before he returned to the bedroom to find Obi-Wan lounging on the bed, arms already stretched above his head, wrists pressed together.

Gripping the base of his cock, Anakin scrambled back on to the bed to rest between his legs.

“Know how to tie a man up?” Obi-Wan asked. He was already breathless, and in the darkness Anakin could see his pupils were blown wide.

He was excited about this.

“Few of the clones taught me,” Anakin said. “I don’t think they expected me to implement their lesson in such a way, however.”

“Mm, no, most likely not. At least, I hope not.”

Grabbing the rope, Anakin reached up to grasp Obi-Wan’s wrists in his hand, holding on to as much of the sinew and bone as he could. Glancing down at Obi-Wan, he licked his bottom lip and took a deep breath.

“You uh… still sure you want this?” he asked.

“Positive,” Obi-Wan said, his voice layered and deep.

He wrapped the rope as the clones had instructed, making a pair of handcuffs around Obi-Wan’s wrists. The maddening sound of his heartbeat thundered through his head, mixing with the slow, steady sounds of the rope sliding against itself, and the deep, calming breaths of Obi-Wan below. Once finished, Anakin sat back slightly and admired the beauty in front of him.

The muscles in Obi-Wan’s arms were taught, deep shadows cut along the underside as if to accentuate the strength of his triceps. Following the length of his arms upward, Anakin watched the muscles of his wrists flex as he tested the knot in the center. His skin was already going slightly pink, dark tones spreading out from beneath the rope, and Anakin’s chest squeezed as he thought of how Obi-Wan’s burns would be visible for all to see, not easily hidden away even with the modesty of his Jedi robes to aid him.

“How’s that?” Anakin asked, voice tight.

Obi-Wan pressed against his restraints, the muscles of his arms flexing again, before he nodded. “Nice and tight.”

Repositioning himself, Anakin slid his still hard and leaking cock back inside Obi-Wan’s willing body. Already he felt more relaxed, no longer holding on to Anakin’s length with a grip that edged along the precipice of genuine pain.

Immediately Obi-Wan tilted his hips, angling his body so that Anakin could fill him fully, not an inch of space between them.

Gripping his hip with his mechno-hand, Anakin reached up with his flesh hand and held on to his tied wrists, keeping Obi-Wan’s hands above his head. Excitement and trepidation coursed through him, making him tremble slightly. Sweat that had cooled heated back up, making Anakin’s skin break out in little pebbles of pleasure, and he ducked his head to kiss Obi-Wan, taking things slow and easy.

He found comfort in their embrace, and when he broke away he felt like he could breathe again.

Obi-Wan’s body had fully collapsed back into the pillows, the familiar strain and tightness instead replaced with an eager, willing body that was all for Anakin. There eyes locked, and Anakin’s grip tightened on the rope.

“Remember, Anakin,” Obi-Wan purred, “nice and proper.”

[finnick-odairs-slut]

Omega | Kylo Ren X Reader

Howdy there folks! I'm back in action! This one might be a little rusty, but I did my best :3

Pairing: Kylo Ren/ Reader

Summary: En route back to your home planet it seems you've caught the attention of a certain Supreme Leader, and you will be his.

You were on your way back to your current home planet after a visit to your parents planet. You had your own small ship, and a droid to accompany you. The visit went without a hitch, and you got to relax for the first time in a few months. It was very nice to see your mom and dad again, you smiled to yourself. You gazed out of the ship's front window, lost in thought.

That's when you felt it, a dull pain in your head. You wince, clenching your eyes shut.

Smoke engulfs you, the breath feeling as though it is being sucked from your lungs. You choke, hands reaching to grasp the arms of your pilot's chair. You can see it now, someone playing through your memories as you’re forced to relive some of your best and worst memories.

A low growl from what you can only presume to be a man plays in your head, trembling from the noise. Something in this growl calls to your more primal side, you could only assume this man was an alpha, something so… hungry in his call.

As quickly as you are swept into this feeling of static and warmth it goes away, leaving you utterly confused, and now properly wishing you could have seen the person rifling through your head. You press forward, turning the turbo on your ship, you would hurry home, this all seemed very strange, and with your designation as an omega this situation could go from bad to worse.

You turn away from the control panel, looking at your droid, seated to your left. It chirps at you and you smile, that's when you feel it, a thud against your ship, and you’re rendered unconscious.

The sleek metal of the floor of the cell stung against your chest and arms as you slowly gained consciousness. You had been traveling in a ship heading back to your parents place when you were struck. You squinted, your eyes needing time to adjust to the light as you pried them open to look back and forth, You steadied yourself and flipped yourself over, scooting into the corner of your cell.

You were tense, your whole body rigid as a stormtrooper addressed you.

“Improper flight verifications. Will biologically evaluate the crew and ship to determine if they pose a possible threat.”

I guess you were lucky enough to get that much from The First Order. Your mouth went dry as you looked around at the small space you were granted.

Was this ship okay? Did your parents know you went down? Your fingers drummed on the handcuffs set around your wrists. There wasn’t any crew, just you and your droid.. odd.

Your scent gland twitched, with the pheromones you were emitting you were glad that they had granted you a solo cell. You knew your scent would spread soon. Omegas were hard to come by nowadays. Something loomed in the back of your head, another feeling like someone was somehow playing in your head, again. You try to drive it out, struggling to keep whatever force was inside you out. And then again, gone. You groaned, a pounding headache developing as you lie back adjusting to the feeling of being bound.

That's when you waited, the cold, sleek metal becoming an imprint on your side. You shook your head in confusion as you were granted access into a dinner pod. They actually removed your cuffs and allowed you to keep them off. The dinner is already pre-selected for you, in this case. You put little thought into it as you lean forward, joyfully giggling as you ensnare a bite in your mouth. You eat in silence, after the meal you are carted off back to your cell.

At four am on the dot you are extracted from your cell. Brought to a room that looks like medbay. You keep a watchful gaze on the room, and the droids and humans moving about.

“Sorry dear, just First Order policy.” One nurse speaks, almost apologetic as she draws your blood.

They examine and take samples of your blood, and spit. The nurse notes the smell in the room, looking at you quizzically.

“Okay, can you guys just let me go back to my ship? I need to get home.” You frown, you’re handed a paper thin gown to put on. That's when you smell it, the smoky cedar and cinnamon sugar notes, they are so light, but you can still pick them up. It's different from the few hints of mint and floral notes you've been picking up. As soon as you're dressed they send you back to your cell and that’s when you wait. And wait, and then wait some more.

You didn’t know how much time had passed. It had to have been days after you were captured. You had been given meals proper, and after the second day they moved you to a more secluded cell? If you could even call it a cell. It was a bit nicer, the bathroom had a door at least.

You blinked in confusion as you woke from yet another slumber, sweat slicking your skin. A droid was in your room.

“You will be requested later. Here are your clothes.”

You take the small pile of clothes from the droid and display them on the bed. Just simple black robes with undergarments.

Strange. Hopefully they would be able to see that you were no pirate and you were just going back to your family.

“Can I have my med bag from my ship?” You ask the droid.

“Negative, all personal items are still being cataloged.”

It then leaves your room, the door hissing shut behind it.

You don’t try to fight against the droid, or the room for that matter. You just wanted to go home. Although, without your medbag things were going to get a lot harder. It had been almost a week without suppressants. You could feel your body heat up. You whined quietly, whoever was ‘requesting’ you would smell it.

Panic instantly fled in your body, you didn’t want some random alpha to smell you and try to mate you.

Why in a world of aliens and Jedi were you cursed by biology?

Your thoughts continued to race, you showered in the small bathroom, only a toilet, a sink and a faucet sticking out from the wall, and a drain.

you turn the water to cold, you’re already sweating bullets. Your heart drums in your chest, feeling the porcelain underneath your fingertips as you sit in the stream for a moment. Relief turns into frustration as you feel cool enough, but the ache between your legs is steadily growing. You take the only bar of soap in the room and begin to wash yourself and attempt to wash your hair. You step out and dry off with the towels supplied in your room. A small pile of dirty towels growing in the corner.

You get dressed in the robes and wait yet again. Your eyes are growing heavy as ever. You begin to drift off to sleep, still ruminating about what might transpire. You can feel the low tingle of pain throughout your lower body, the temperature of your body heating up again as you toss on the foam pad that had been your bed, you feel like you’re boiling, although you haven’t had a heat not on suppressants since you're very first. That had been rough, your parents were both betas, so it was entirely unexpected, especially since you presented a bit later at college. You were carted off to a heat center in a hospital, your roommate had called when she found you in bed, barely coherent.

Since then you were on medication to suppress your heats, it was rare that you were even scent detectable.

Until now.

Your mouth goes dry as your fingers trail down your skin, you push the robe apart, your hands quickly trailing your breast, down to your oh so sensitive sex. You were soaked, absolutely soaked. You rubbed your thighs together, wet noises filling the room.

You didn’t know how many times you came, you didn’t stop the entire time, barely being able to stop when the droid entered your room.

“Please get dressed, you are requested.”

You wanted to detest, needed to in fact, you were safe here, but you wouldn’t be in those halls. Soon other alphas would scent you, and seek you out. You were safe here behind the securely locked door, or so you assumed. You shamefully pull your fingers from your sopping cunt, pulling the robe back onto you, securing the front and tying it. You still weren’t satiated, you were aching, aching so badly. You pulled yourself onto your feet and followed the droid through the hall. You were right, you watched as a storm trooper's head shot up, giving you a quick glance, they looked away and kept their head down. You try to do the same as you’re guided onto an elevator, the moment the doors shut you lean against the side of the elevator, trying to steady your breathing as your need continues to grow. The elevator is fast because before you can brace yourself anymore, the doors are opening and the droid is leaving, obviously expecting you to follow. That smoky cinnamon scent returning. Your nostrils flaring as you try to gather as many lungfuls as you can of the delicious scent.

“So who is requesting me?” You ask, trying to keep pace.

“The Supreme Leader.” It responds, leading you through the corridors into a nicer area of the ship.

Even with the lava that coursed through your veins that was enough to make you grow cold. There was no way that a simple infraction that wasn’t even valid warranted you being presented to the leader of the First order. You knew little of politics but you knew he commanded the first order.

Your stomach churned, this could not have been good, what could you have unknowingly done?

The droid stops in front of a large door, the door hissing open, it waits for you to enter as you peer into the room. There was a man seated beside a table, a black helmet covering his face. Oh god, you could smell him. You could smell him so thoroughly, notes of smoked wood and sweetened cinnamon. He sat ominously, you swallowed hard, you were going into heat and you were going to be in the same room as this man who was apparently the leader of the literal First Order and he could so easily kill you, Your mind continued to race. Then you heard it, what you could only think to be a quiet chuckle through the voice modulator in his mask.

“I am not going to kill you, however you have been bothering me.” He speaks, and you sheepishly step inside the room, the door quickly shutting behind you. The robes feel like they weigh a thousand pounds as you step forward to face the man.

“Bothering you?” You question, you give him a quizzical look. “Now that you’re here, maybe you can answer why I’ve been detained for so long?” You raise an eyebrow, standing before the supreme leader.

“Yes, bothering me.” He takes a deep breath in, “Sugared plums and vanilla. I sensed you before I could smell you. Force sensitive? Your mental shields are weak, I got your entire life story in about 45 seconds. We’ll have to work on that. Little omega, tell me what were you doing out in this system, all by yourself?” His modulated voice had completely grown on you.

“I was going back home, I had a scheduled visit with my parents on Ozraro, the flight was cleared by the first order. I was doing nothing wrong! Please let me go home.” You cry, hugging yourself as you start to back away from the Supreme Leader. The robe tickles the floor. You notice the shift in the room as Kylo Ren rises from the table to take a few steps towards you. He shakes his head from side to side. So innocent, adorable even.

“Hmm, unfortunately not little omega. You’re not going home anytime soon, not until you’re claimed by me. You’re mine, my perfect little doll.” Goosebumps crawled across your skin, your back was to the wall and the masked man was steadily closing in on you. Your brain processed what you had just been told. The Supreme Emperor of the first order wants you. Your brain feels fuzzy, you can feel the heat of your own body spread, a sweat breaking out across your body. The thin robe feels like heavy wool against your skin. Your chest heaves as your eyes dart across the room. This was a simple meeting room, you could see a door in the corner that you could go for.

Without another thought you bolted, narrowly avoiding the man's gloved hand as he reached out for you. He audibly growls, trailing after you, he could use the force, stopping you in your tracks. That however, would be no fun, you were so harmless. It was a fun game he knew he would win, but he let the rabbit run on. You make it to the door, your hands scrambling to pull the door open, a chuckle from behind you. You pull the door open just in time and shut it behind you, locking it firmly into place. You whine, omega instincts kicking in well without the hindrance of your suppressants. Your mind was urging you to hide, make him fight for your submission, be a good omega. Okay what were you thinking? You had the literal space devil at the bathroom door and you were thinking about fucking him? Get it together, your head was spinning.

“Little Omega, if you don’t let me in now, you won’t like what I do.” The voice behind the door calls and you curl up under the sink, whimpering. You couldn’t think anymore, lava pooled in your lower abdomen and you were effectively soaking the robe you were given to wear.

“I’m not letting you in! Just give me my suppressants and let me go home!” You shriek.

Silence.

A dull hum vibrates through the air, and a red glow from the cracks of the bathroom door told you all you needed to know. He was going to literally fucking cut his way in. Panic mixed with lust filled your senses. An alpha was ripping through a door to get to you? His scent made you delirious for a moment, the way it poured from him in his anger. Inhaling again, you almost choke on the air as you watch the light blade burn and cut its way into the side of the door. Your screams echo through the bathroom, his blade effectively cutting off the door handle as he forces himself in, still silent.

“I told you, little doll..” He chuckles, “Now, alphas going to help you up okay?”

You wanted to scream again, a small whimper choking out of your throat. You cower in the corner under the sink, and as soon as he reaches down to try to get you up, you start fighting him. He’s easily able to handle the force of your blows as he forces you to stand. He takes you over his shoulder, holding your legs tight as you kick. What a feisty one you were. He exits the bathroom, going to the main door and using his palm to open it, he takes your angry, screaming form to his quarters.

“Now, you’re going to be a good little omega, I won’t put up with this much longer. I am going to sit you down and you are not to move, are we understood?”

Silence from you, and you feel a powerful hand come down on your ass as you continue to squirm on his shoulder. You cry out.

“Yes.” You speak, almost a gasp as your palms grip his cape. You feel him grab your waist and place you upon his bed. He turns away from you, and you scoot back to the headboard. You eye him carefully, a dull cramp causes you to hold your stomach, you hear a faint hiss and watch the man remove his helmet. His black hair falling perfectly sets it aside, and that's when you are overcome by his smell. He removes his cape as well, hanging it beside his helmet. He turns to you and you melt, he’s so handsome. His dark eyes scan you as you admire him, his features strong and masculine, His lips soft looking. Another cramp rushes through you and you whine. His lips are slightly upturned as if he could hide the smirk as he watched you writhe on his bed. His omega on his bed. The thought pleased him through and through.

“Please don’t.. I know I’m going into heat…It's all your fault! Don’t come near me!” You get defensive again, the pain steady in your back as you feel yourself cramp. Your pheromones filled the room in a deliciously seductive way, and it takes Kylo so much control.

“I know you can smell me too, you’re drawn to me too.” He actually smiles, stepping forward and sitting on the edge of the bed. You cower further into the pillows, he's not wrong. You cry out again, the pain feeling as though it might split you open. You rub your thighs together and you feel the slick down your legs. You whimper and you feel the man shift on the mattress, climbing up to you. He lets out a low growl, his hand coming up to grab your chin. He examines you, and comes in closer to you. You shudder, such a small, fragile thing. He presses his nose to your neck, taking a deep inhale. You relax into his touch, senses dulling as you allow the alphas scent to consume you..

He turns you from your current position cowering against the headboard to lying down on his satin bed covers.

“You did so good, little omega, tried to make me fight for it so well, such a strong baby..” He purr, his hand pulling the robe untied as he leans down to you. You’re still trembling now, but more so because of the sheer pain coursing through your body, the haze building up in your brain making it even harder to keep your composure.

“Please touch me, alpha” You whine softly, and that's all it really took for Kylo to have his hands on your breast and his lips on yours. Your hands tangled in his lovely inky hair, pulling him even closer. The kiss was bruising, his hand expertly massaging your breast. Still you needed more. You needed him. You remove your hands from his scalp and tug on his hand.

“Need more!” You cry, desperately craving his hands to be everywhere. He chuckles into your mouth, pulling his hand away. He was more than happy to oblige to you, how could he not? He had never taken an omega in heat to bed. He had never seen such desperation, so feral. He removes his shirt, doing his belt and setting his cock free. He leans back down to you, already a whimpering mess without his ministrations. He connects your lips again and that's when you feel his fingers creeping past your hips to your drenched core. His thich slender fingers pushing through your folds, he could feel you, how needy you were. He greedily pulls his hand away and brings it to his nose, oh god. Oh god you smelt delicious, He licks his fingers, and returns back to you. Kylo slides his finger into you, followed by a second, and you cry out. You grip the black satin on the bed and arch your back.

“Now, doesn’t that feel good little one?” He coos, you moan.

“Yes!” He works his fingers deliciously inside of you, “Need you inside of me, please!” You cry, attempting to fuck yourself on his fingers.

“Since you asked so nicely.” He smiles, his hand reaching down to pump his cock as he strokes it through your sopping folds.

When you feel him press into you, sheathing his large cock inside of you is when you feel true religion. The world stops for a minute and you see white. So full, so full of alpha. Your real brain was nowhere to be found as these omega instincts consume you. Your legs wrap around you mate, bringing him in closer. He thrusts into you slowly, feeling the way you convulse around him. He moans, bringing himself down to you to meet your lips again, swallowing your wanton whimpers. He steadies himself, finding a delicious pace as you crumble into pure ecstasy.

“So.. So good alpha.” You cry, his lips traveling to your neck. He felt so good, the way the tip of his cock presses softly into your cervix. He growls and pulls out, the feeling of being empty hitting you immediately.

“Up on your knees omega, present for your alpha.”

You obey, without another thought you allow him to help you onto your knees. You get onto all fours and pull your knees into your chest as much as you could, bringing your ass and dripping pussy up into view for the dark haired Sith.

“Alpha please!” You cry against the bed cover, and you feel a large hand grip your hip, he adjusts himself behind you, trying to push his pants lower as he sinks his cock into you again.

His force is bruising on your hip, the sound of his hips hitting your ass filling the room. You cry out, cheek pressed down as you begin to drool. He is merciless, like a true alpha his cock claims you, ruins you for anyone else, noone else could fuck you like that. The way he knows when to change angles as he forces you down onto his cock. He growls lowly, feeling aggression begin to creep into his mind as he begins to nip at your scent gland. Had you really triggered a rut for him?

“Gonna cum alpha!” You gasp out, hearing the squelching above you as the man raided your body. You clenched around him and he almost came loose. He grunts into the nape of your neck, still thrusting into with an aching pace, you cannot contain yourself as you unwind onto his cock.Pleasure wracks through your body and you finally feel some sort of relief from the ache in your gut. You feel the base of his cock begin to swell as he thrusts into you. The way he fucks himself inside of you, you can feel the knot swell into place. You're in heaven and you might cum again, and you do when you feel him begin to paint your insides with his seed. His teeth remain on your neck, he presses down and bites down onto your scent gland. Blood droplets crawl down your neck and you allow yourself to go limp. The man above you pants heavily, his pupils blown, blood dripping down the side of his mouth.

“Mine. My omega. All mine.” He says softly, you nod from your position on your knees.

“Yes alpha!” You cry. You felt worlds better with the claiming mark, still in heat yes but satiated. Kylo looked down at the cock drunk beauty before him and stroked her back. Once he feels his knot deflate enough to pull out he does. You’re still limp, he nudges you onto your side and puts you in a more comfortable position lying down. You could feel his seed dripping down your thighs, still panting. You strain to look up at him as he gets up to go to his washroom to grab a washcloth. He begins to carefully wipe you down, gently cleaning your thighs.

“My precious omega…”

[bits-and-babs]

could i be cheeky and ask for some more mandalorian 👀 preferably touch starved din

✦ 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐍 ✦

– KINKTOBER DAY 2: TOUCH STARVED

din djarin x reader | smut, 18+ | 1.2k words

summary: the child has been getting in the way of you and mando spending time together. after weeks without your touch, he's finally reaching his limit.

cw: f!reader, needy din, slightly ooc din to fit the theme, begging, oral (m receiving), cumming early, reference to f oral.

⇽ KINKTOBER MLIST | DAY 3: PHONE SEX ⇾

Even a kriffing Miraluka, blind as they are, could see how badly Mando desperately wanted you to touch him. The sheer yearning that rolled from The Mandalorian in waves was enough to shift the midichlorians themselves, the fibres of the galaxy trembling whenever you were near him.

Weeks trapped inside the Crest with Mando, far too preoccupied with the tiny green gremlin to pay attention to his needs had taken its toll on the warrior's mentality. Grogu had been pulling at wires, leaving the ship static in dead space and even managed to find a button that sucked the oxygen from the hangar, resulting in a frantic struggle to restore O-Levels to baseline before your lungs shrivelled. A menace to the galaxy, you’d spent more time with your eyes glued to the tiny, green hazard than you had sleeping. 

In turn, Mando was practically trembling with need. He’d let out a shaky sigh every time you sat beside him in the passenger seat, voice-strain evident even with the crackle of the vocoder doing its best to conceal the distress that dripped from each singular-syllable response to your questions. 

In deep space with the child finally down in his cot for a much needed sleep, Mando’s leather gloves creak with the grip he tightens around the controls of the Crest. You hear the grains scream under the pressure as you approach, glancing over the map and the coordinates Greef Karga had offered in Mando’s search for the bounty. It’s cruel, barbaric almost, but you swear you can’t see the digits, numbers far too small for you to see from this close… So you place your palm on Mando’s shoulder, leaning over him in an attempt to get a better view. 

You'd never admit it, but the way you somehow managed to touch him between the Beskar plates of his armour was completely intentional. It was a guilty pleasure, seeing the stoic bounty hunter crumble simply from the pressure of your fingers. His chest heaves, each muscle in his body stiffening under the weight of your fingers. 

Regardless of how heavy the Mandalorian’s stare was, his eyes burning into your skin from behind the tinted visor, you refuse to advance without his request. You pretend not to notice, mouthing the digits of the coordinates to yourself, squinting as though you were unable to see.

It had been weeks of this Loth Cat and Womp Rat game, and poor Mando seems to be reaching the end of his tether.

You finally feel his respove snap when you settle your hand on the nape of his neck, leaning further over his shoulder to ‘check the fuel levels of the Crest was enough to make the journey’. Your fingertips brush the bare skin between the neck of his flight-suit and the edge of his chrome helmet, and Mando nearly doubles over like he's in pain. He chokes out, and you can tell he's already hard, his cock straining against his flight suit.

"Please, please fucking touch me,” Mando’s voice sounds utterly pathetic, a far cry from the vicious warrior that blasted through whole packs of assassin droids.”I can't take it anymore, I ca-ahaaa-" he can't swallow the moan that bleeds through the vocoder when you palm his cock though his suit. You can feel the hard curve of his cock twitch against your palm, even though the thick fabric. A rough squeeze sends Mando’s head rocking back against the seat with a quiet, metallic thunk. 

“It feels like you’ve missed me,” you murmur quietly, feeling his hips jerk against your touch when your voice reaches his ears. Prickling arousal bleeds across your skin at how reactive he is, the usually stoic figure shaking himself apart under your touch.

“M–Missed you so much,” he admits, and you’re almost certain you hear the strain of his teeth from grinding them together, “Hah– Need to feel you on me, nee-d to be in you.”

Offering a soft hum of acknowledgement to his suffering, you spin his seat around slowly. His head seems loose on his shoulders, unable to hold it upright when he sees you sink to your knees in front of him. You almost feel sorry for him, watching how he frantically scrambles to free his cock for you. 

The first drag of your tongue against the arch of his shaft has Mando panic-stricken, his hands grasping the arms of the seat when his dick throbs heavily against your taste buds. 

“Fuck–” He growls, practically choking on his own voice, “C–Can’t!”

“It’s okay,” you whisper against a pulsing vein beneath his velvety skin, “We can do it again…” 

Pre-cum slips from the ruddy head of his cock at your gentle encouragement, a tortured whine rattling in Mando’s lungs. It’s so loud that you wouldn’t be surprised if the sound was bouncing inside the Beskar walls of his helmet. 

Carefully, you trace the tip of your tongue against the salty head of his cock, letting out a sharp breath when Mando takes a tight fistful of your hair. His chest is heaving, barely able to keep from slurring his words when he begs you to take him into your mouth. 

Slackening your jaw, you hum softly as you take just a few inches. Mando, in what seems like a half hearted attempt to escape the overwhelming pleasure, pushes his whole body back against the chair while choking out obscene curses. You’re so slow, trying your best not to overwhelm the poor, devastated man– but the flat of your tongue pressed against the underside of his cock and the tip nudging the back of your throat is all it takes to obliterate his self control. 

Mando sounds almost winded by the force with which he cums. His balls pull up so tight, the fingers in your hair clenching to the point your follicles scream beneath the grip. Underneath the Beskar armour, every muscle in his body flexes before the cum hits the back of your throat. Spurts of thick, salty seed paint the inside of your mouth, violent jerks of his shaft causing Mando’s head to fall backwards again, whimpering as you swallow down– swallow around him. 

“Hoh-Fuck–! Stars,” he babbles, wheezing out your name while the last of his cum drips from his cockhead. Pulling from him when his thighs finally start to seize from the overstimulation, you lean your head against Mando’s trembling knees and giggle. He looks utterly exhausted, slumped in his seat and chest heaving as he sucks oxygen into his lungs. 

“Your mouth– hah–” he wheezes out a slight laugh, so unlike the reserved Mando you met in a bar on Corellia. You’d stopped the child from running off into the crowd, and somehow found yourself with the role of babysitting him while following the bounty hunter on his adventures. “It’s so good…”

“Mhmm,” you hum in agreement, smiling to yourself at the memory of meeting the apathetic, almost grumpy chrome-man as you brush your palm across his thigh and closing your eyes to sweeten the deal, “So is yours. Put it to use and taste me?” You hear the tnk of his helmet touching the ground soon after.

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