#and since the pilot didn’t even take place on her death

[donutcats]

some of the things in the nd finale would have hit soooo much harder for me if the show runners weren’t dead set on convincing me it’s only been a year since the start of the show? like, really? 4 seasons packed into one year? all of that shit happened to nancy in one calendar year? sorry but I can’t believe it. everything with the claw and the historical society and everyone acting like they have to move away from each other would have made me so emotional if the show followed an irl timeline and it really had been a few years.

[sarahsmi13s]

Duckie

Chapter 9

pairing: jake ‘hangman’ seresin x bradshaw!reader; bradley ‘rooster’ bradshaw x twin sister!reader

characters: y/n bradshaw, nick bradshaw, jake seresin, penny benjamin, serenity hart, denver miller

word count: ~10.7k (don't kill me i know the chapter lengths are all over the place, i'm sorry)

warnings: language, parental doubts, canon character deaths mentioned, drinking, thunderstorms, jake being an absolute sweetheart

a/n: i want to apologize that is has been 8 months since i have last updated the main story, i really didn't think it would take that long... but i just wanted to make sure i was proud of the chapter and i really do think i am proud of it. so thank you for your patience and i hope you enjoy 💜

series summary: daughter of goose and carole and twin sister to bradley ‘rooster’ bradshaw, y/n bradshaw also got her papers pulled when she tried to enlist in the Navy. which turned out to not be as bad as she thought.

chapter summary: a week after duckie and jake went on their "not-date" she is seriously regretting not getting jake's number before he left -- considering they haven't seen each other since. though, as fate would have it, that weekend they see each other at the beach and as duckie is walking away jake gets a push from his friends to get her number. little does he know he'll be getting much more than that from her

'duckie' universe

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It had been a hectic week since your ‘not date’ date with Jake and honestly… you were missing him. Nick was missing him too, hugging the cowboy manta ray every afternoon when he napped. You were really kicking yourself for not getting his number, you had no way of talking to him. And you both were busy, you with school stuff and softball practices and Jake with his Top Gun classes. So you just had to bet on the off chance of running into him again.

Late that Saturday morning, you and Nick were walking the beach, occasionally splashing in the surf. You wanted to tire him out so when Serenity came over later to babysit, he wasn’t too much trouble.

At some point when you had been distracted, Nick had run off without you noticing, most likely seeing something he liked or wanted.

When you do notice his absence, it’s because you don’t hear giggling and splashing. You look down next to you and panic shoots through you when you see that your son isn’t right at your feet. 

“Nick? Nick! Nicky!”

Your chest heaved with your panicked breathing, thoughts running through your mind a mile and a half a minute as you shouted and ran across the beach like a mad woman – shouting for your son.

How could this happen? How could you not notice that your toddler wasn’t right next to you? What kind of mother gets that distracted that she doesn’t even hear her child run off? How did you not notice? Why didn’t you hear him? Why did you let something else pull your attention away that fast and for that long?

Maybe those middle aged mothers in the store were right? Maybe you were too young to be a decent mom… Maybe you shouldn’t–

“Han’man!” 

The small, but excited voice shut your thoughts off in an instant, relief flooding your entire body as you ran in the direction you heard your son – nearly tripping over your own feet in the panic. 

You spotted the classic beach volleyball court and saw Jake pick him up, looking equally as confused as he was happy. 

“Nick where’s your-” 

“Nicholas Jacob!” You called, adrenaline still pumping through your body.

Your son yelped a little and turned into Jake’s neck upon hearing you shout as the pilot cringed. The first and middle name? Never a good sign. 

“Oooh, someone’s in trouble,” he mumbled, instinctively rubbing the child’s back in order to keep him calm. 

The other aviators noticed this and gave Hangman a confused look. They were in the middle of a volleyball match and then boom a toddler’s running into the pilot's legs. And now he was comforting said child, not something they would expect from him usually.

Nick threw his arms around Jake’s neck, not turning to look at you as you ran over, sliding a little as the sand shifted under your heavy steps. “You can’t just run off like that! Do you know how worried I was?!”

The other pilots probably should have looked away, minded their own business. But now they were very intrigued as you came up to Jake as he held your son. 

And by the time you got in arms reach you had calmed down slightly, trying to channel your mother to help you handle this situation.

“Nicky,” you coaxed, as you got closer and reached out to rub his back. He just buried his face into Jake’s shoulder, a small cry coming from his lips as he hugged the pilot tighter. He hates yelling, he doesn’t like it when people are mad at him. You played with his curls, knowing that he thought you were angry, “Baby, I’m not mad… You just worry me when you run off like that. You are too much like your Uncle.” 

Nick looked at you finally, but still rested his head on Jake’s shoulder. His eyes were red and you sighed, knowing that he still thought you were mad. “I’m sorry I shouted, Nicky. Mama’s not mad at you. I promise.” He sniffled and reached out for you. You smiled softly and took him into your arms, then he promptly buried his face into your shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, guys,” you apologized, looking around at all the pilots. “I don’t know how he got away from me.” Jake shook his head, waving it off with a flick of his wrist, “It’s okay. I was winnin’ anyway.” You laughed, bouncing Nick instinctively, “Alright, well, we’ll leave you to it.” You adjusted Nick on your hip, smiling at the men before walking away.

Jake watched you walk away before turning back to his classmates, clapping his hands together and ready to start the next match. But he was met with crossed arms and expecting looks. “Okay let’s – What?” 

“You’re in so deep, Hangman,” Denver, also known as ‘Ransom’, said with a teasing scoff. “Have you gotten her number yet?” 

The blond shook his head, “No but I figured she’d offer it when she was ready.” The other pilot rolled his eyes. “Seresin, since when have you ever waited for her to make the move?” Jake huffed, “She’s different. I don’t want to move too fast. I want her to know that I’m all in first.” 

Denver crossed his arms, “Hangman, go ask her. Show her you’re all in. She won’t know if you don’t tell her. And I’m pretty sure she’s a little nervous to ask you. You know… given that she doesn’t know!” 

Jake’s eyes widened in realization, making the brunette laugh as Jake jogged after you, “Hey, Y/N, wait up!”

You turned as he called out to you, Nicky looking up as well from his spot on your shoulder. Looking up at him as he slowed down to a stop in front of you, you tilted your head a little, “Yeah?”

He took a few deep breaths, talking with one hand as the other rested on his hip, “First I want to preface, it’s totally cool if you say no. But we’ve been getting to know each other, and I was wondering if I could get your number?” 

You looked at Nick then back at Jake, thinking about your response carefully. “I’ll be at the bar tonight. Come by and we’ll talk about it.” 

Jake nodded, and smirked, “I look forward to it.” He ruffled Nick’s hair before going back to the group.

You smiled, eyeing him as he walked away – a little more confidence in his step as he walked up to his friend. 

You know you were kicking yourself before for not getting his number, but now that he’s asked you… you were hesitant, you felt like you had a lot you needed to tell him before you took this step. Sighing a little, you adjusted Nick on your hip again and made your way back to your car.

During the drive home, Nicky was quiet and played with the shells he had found on the beach.

You knew he was still upset from when you yelled, and you knew that he didn’t quite understand why you were so worried. He was only three after all, and he had so much wonder that it was a miracle he didn’t run off to squash his curiosities more often.

He did need to understand why you had shouted and why you were so worried, it was important that he knew that.

But neither of you were ready to give nor receive that conversation. You were still thrumming with that anxiety from the 90 second eternity it took to find him and he was still upset from when you yelled at him. You just needed to wait for when you got home after you both calmed down.

When you got home, you gave Nicky his bath in near silence as you made sure all the sand was gone and he was clean of salt water.

You had thought through your side of the conversation and decided on how you were going to talk to him.

After getting him bathed and getting some comfy clothes picked out, you knelt in front of him as you helped him dry off.

“Nicky? Can we talk about what happened at the beach?” 

He sniffed, nodding his head under the little shark hood of his towel. 

You smiled softly at him and gave a gentle squeeze to his arms. “You know Mama isn’t angry right?” “You yelled… people yell when they’re angy…” His voice was soft and timid, he was trying not to cry again. 

“Oh baby…” You tilted his head up and cupped his cheek. “Sometimes people yell when they’re angry or mad. But not all the time.” Confusion flashed over his tearfilled eyes and you sighed. 

You sat back on your heels, wiping his tears away with your thumb. “People can yell for a lot of different reasons, Nick. Sometimes we yell or shout because we’re excited, we’ve done that before haven’t we? Like when you saw Hangman and shouted because you were so excited to see him.” 

He nodded, using the towel to wipe his other eye as you gave him an encouraging smile.

“It all comes down to how we say something, and I know that might not make sense just yet, because you’re three, but it will and we’ll talk more about it then. But I know you don’t like yelling when people sound angry or mean, it’s loud and it can be scary, right?” He nodded again, sniffling a little, “Yeah…” 

You nodded, dipping your head a little to look him in the eye. “And Mama’s sorry if she sounded angry or mean, that wasn’t my intention. But you running off like that scared me, it really really scared me. I didn’t know if you were hurt or lost.” 

“But I was safe with Han’man… I was okay Mama…” 

“I know that now. But in the moment I was really worried about you and I didn’t know where you had run off too. That’s why I shouted.” 

You rubbed his arms, making sure to hold eye contact. “You can’t just run off like that without telling me. It makes me worried for your safety.” 

The dam finally broke and Nick started sobbing. “I’m sorry Mama… I-I jus’ saw Han’man an-and wa-wanted to s-say hi…” 

“I know, I know baby,” you cooed, wiping his tears as they fell. “And Mama forgives you, I know you didn’t mean to. And I know there will be times where you’re really really curious and you want to explore, but you have to tell me so I, or someone else, can make sure you’re safe. And there will be times I’m gonna yell, but I still love you okay? And I will do better to control my tone in the future.” 

He sniffled and hugged you tightly, his little arms wrapping around your neck in a grip that rivaled a grown man. You smiled and adjusted your legs, crossing them before wrapping him tighter in his towel and pulling him into your lap.

You sat on his floor for a while, holding him close and rocking back and forth as you pressed kisses to the side of his head.

It wasn’t too long after that conversation that Serenity was using her spare key to come in, finding you and Nick giggling in the living room as you watched Kung Fu Panda.

“Looks like I’m missing all the fun,” she laughed, sitting her backpack down on the bar. 

Nick sat up, a wide smile on his face, “Ren!” She smiled and walked over, her arms out wide for a hug, “Nicky J!” He got off the couch quickly and ran to her, hugging her with a high pitched giggle. 

You smiled as you stood up, “Oh I don’t know about missing the fun, just a little late to the party.” 

“Well, I guess I have some fun to catch up on,” she said as she ruffled Nicky’s curls. “And Mama can relax a little bit.” 

You nodded because now that she was here you could take a shower and get ready to go to the bar. You needed the moment of solitude to collect yourself after your mild panic attack on the beach. Needed to take a second alone to let the parental mask slip and just let yourself feel.

“Yes, and I will be showering and getting ready to go to the bar. You both can finish the movie and give me the rundown when I come back.” 

Serenity nodded, “You got it, we’ll take notes. Won’t we buddy?” Nicky nodded, “And we can act it out for you too!” You smiled and played with his hair, “Yes you can, and I look forward to it.” Nick giggled, running back over to climb on the couch and continue watching the movie.

You looked at the college student, brows raised as you let out a breath. She arched her eyebrow inquisitively, “Mama need me time?” You nodded, rubbing your hands on your thighs. “She needs so much me time. Had a bit of a scare at the beach and I need a minute to process it, without him two feet away… God, that sounds so bad doesn’t it?”

She shook her head, grabbing your wrist gently, “Not at all. You need space to breathe, that’s why I’m here – well, and cause I love that little man over there.” You both laughed, glancing over at the couch where Nick was zeroed in on the TV. 

Her grip tightened momentarily to gain your attention again. “And you’re doing great, Y/N. Don’t ever question that.” 

A rush of tears filled your eyes, a weight you hadn’t realized was sitting on your chest lifting ever so slightly and allowing you to actually breathe again. Biting your lip to keep from crying in front of your son, you hugged Serenity letting out a heavy exhale that released the obsessive thoughts that rattled in your head. 

“Thank you…” 

Your voice was no louder than a whisper, but your gratitude was nothing short of a scream. 

Serenity rubbed your back, “And I will fight anyone that says otherwise. Even you. Understand?” She pulled back only when you did as you nodded and wiped your face. “Good,” she nodded towards your bedroom with a smile. “Now go shower.” 

You nodded, squeezing her shoulder in thanks before jogging towards your room.

She smiled after you before turning to your son, clapping her hands as she walked over, “Okay Nicky, let’s make sure we get all the details for Mama.” 

After your much needed shower, taking the solitary moment to breathe and let more tears fall to just release the stress, you got dressed in a pair of jeans and an old band t-shirt you had held onto from when you went through your mom’s things. And you added a black jacket because it had clouded over while you were in the shower. 

And of course, Nicky gave you the rundown of what you missed of Kung Fu Panda while you got ready before going back to let you finish up.

You took a deep breath as you clasped the guitar pick necklace behind your neck, letting the engraved gold rest against your sternum. Kendall had gotten it for you for graduation, having your favorite lyric of Great Balls of Fire engraved on the front – because he indeed drove you crazy and vice versa. For Christmas, Penny went and had Kendall’s initials engraved on the back, knowing that you’d be giving the necklace to Nicky once he was old enough.

Letting the breath out and calming yourself down, you stepped out of your room and slipped your jacket on as you walked to the door. “Okay, I’m heading out. It looks like it might rain, so just call me if anything happens or you need me to come home, okay?” 

Serenity nodded from her spot on the couch, popping a goldfish cracker into her mouth “Got it, go have fun.” 

You squatted down and Nicky ran over to give you a hug. “Bye Mama, have fun with Han’man.” You smiled and rubbed his back, “I will. Be good for Ren okay? I won’t be back until after you go to bed, so I love you baby.” You gave him kisses all over his face, “Mwah, I love you sooo much.” He giggled and kissed your temple, “I love you too Mama.” 

You shared a smile and he ran back to the couch to curl up in his corner.

“Okay, you know all the numbers Ren. If I don’t answer, call Penny or the bar. Okay, I’m gonna head out now, see if I can beat the rush of pilots that are gonna get grounded soon. I love you both, bye.”

They both waved at you as you grabbed your purse and walked out the door.

About 90 minutes and one Amarello after you arrived, you watched Jake stroll into the bar, his green eyes finding you leaning on the bar immediately despite the crowd in front of him. 

“Howdy,” you greeted with a smile as he walked over and leaned on the bar next to you. “Hi, Darlin’,” he replied, grinning down at you.

You glanced around, the bar wasn’t as packed as you thought it would be, but it was still full of pilots since the surprise showers grounded their classes for the rest of the day. 

You looked back at Jake, remembering his question from earlier today on the beach. As you drove over and the hour and half you had to yourself at the bar, you had tried your best to prepare your speech, get everything you needed to say in order so you didn’t fuck anything up and miscommunicate your feelings.

Sighing, you closed your eyes, recalling everything you had lined up to tell him. You didn’t look in his eyes, keeping your gaze centered on his chest, knowing his green irises would wipe your memory. 

“I’m gonna be honest here Jake…” 

He held up his hand, gently interrupting you, “I get it, Y/N. If you still aren’t ready for a relationship, I understand. But I still want to be a friend that you can call, whether it be just to talk to me or if you need help.” 

You sighed, relief filling your chest knowing that he was willing to wait, but you still wanted, no needed, to tell him how you were feeling. 

You finally looked up in his eyes, swallowing the word vomit of emotions that wanted to escape, “Jake, you have done a lot these past few weeks. You’ve taken the time not only to get to know me but to get to know Nick. That means so much to me, more than you know. And I can tell that Nick already likes you, so I can’t just let you out of our life easily.” 

Jake smiled, bashfully looking down at the bar as a chuckle broke through his lips, “I try my best. And I’m a little offended that you thought getting rid of me would ever be easy.” 

You rolled your eyes before continuing. 

“And I do like you, Jake. I like you a lot. While you are cocky as hell, you’re sweet and a gentleman. It’s just…” You rocked on your feet, thinking of everything you needed to say but couldn’t put into words – your rehearsed lines disappearing into thin air now that Jake was here. Damn those eyes.

You hung your head, trying to see if looking away from him would help re-materialize the pre-coordinated words. 

But Jake ducked his head to meet your eyes, showing you he was listening and chasing away your coherent thoughts, “It’s just what, Y/N?” 

You glanced at Penny, receiving a reassuring nod from her and sending a short one back. “I’m gonna step outside really quick Pen, watch my drink?” She nodded and gave you a small, encouraging smile. 

“Follow me,” you patted Jake's shoulder, and slid your hand down his arm to grab his hand. 

You pulled him outside to the covered deck and leaned on the railing, taking a deep breath to inhale the scent of the rain – trying to reign in your racing thoughts.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” Jake’s whiskey smooth voice asked as he leaned on the railing as well, his back facing the clouds.

You cleared your throat, dropping your head to look at the damp sand as you pieced together the puzzle of emotions and words in your head. 

“My dad died when I was 4… He left my mom alone to raise 2 kids that were too much like their father. I told myself that I need to stay away from service men, definitely pilots. But you, and your perfect teeth and perfect hair, those damn green eyes…” 

Jake was flattered but he could feel how this was going to end. You’d build up his ego to cushion his fall when you turned him down.  

“You have become an exception to my one rule.” Okay… Jake certainly wasn’t expecting that. “A rule that I gave myself on my own. I’m just scared, Jake. Nick and I have grown so… close to you and I’m afraid–” 

Jake lifted your chin, cutting you off, and quietly spoke to you, noting the thin line of tears in your water line. “Hey… I understand. But I’m a damn good pilot, I ain’t goin’ down easy.” You laughed, shaking your head fondly before smiling up at him, “There’s that ego.” 

He chuckled softly, his trademark half-smile flashing a canine, “What can I say? But seriously, I will do whatever it takes to get back to you both safe. If that’s what you want.” 

You nodded, stepping closer, unconsciously straightening your back to be closer to him, “I want it, I do.” You bit your lip, a shuddering breath escaping your lips. 

His soft gaze hardened slightly, reading your body language, but it softened again as he tilted your chin up. “Then why are you hesitating?” You shrugged, shaking your head subtly, “I don’t know.” 

You knew why, deep down you knew why you were holding back. Why you wanted to spray the butterflies in your stomach with vinegar. Your brain knew why. But your heart was pounding on your ribcage, trying to get to your brain to tell you it was okay. That you could love again, and it would all be okay.

Jake leaned down, seeing the fight in your eyes. “Is this okay?” You nodded, your breath mixing with his as you looked from his eyes to his lips and back again.

There was a soft eagerness, a puppy in those green eyes waiting to run around, bouncing as he waited for his command – a command only you could give. It was familiar but completely new at the same time. But it felt safe.

Instead of giving him the words he was looking for, you rested your hand on the side of his neck and pressed your lips to his – letting your heart take the wheel.

The kiss was soft, but it didn’t change the fact that butterflies went wild in both of your stomachs. Jake couldn’t help but smile against your lips as he cupped your jaw and tasted the hint of Amaretto on them.

You pulled away, needing to get air into your lungs but Jake chased your lips, catching them in their minty trap. It was clear he came prepared for anything, not that you minded. 

Your free hand fisted in his jacket, wafting his cologne into the air – an all consuming, but not overwhelming scent.

You both finally pulled away from the chaste kiss, light headed and breathless. You stayed close, your noses brushing against each other. 

“What’s gonna happen when you leave?” 

Jake smirked, his breath still tickling your lips as he pulled out his phone, “Well, I’m not sure, but it’d be a hell of a lot easier with your number.” You laughed and finally looked up at him, stepping back a little to take his phone, “Smooth Lieutenant. Very smooth.”

As you and Jake held eye contact a smile settled across your face before you looked down at his phone, typing in your number and sending a text to yourself.

Jake couldn’t help the blush that darked his tanned cheeks at the sparkle of your smile that not even the rain could dim. 

You weren’t like anything he’s ever seen before; a strong, single mother that did everything for the sake of her child and someone that had gone through so much at such a young age.

“You’re amazing…” 

Jake hadn’t realized what he said out loud until you giggled and looked down at the deck with pink tinted cheeks. 

“I said that out loud, didn't I?” He laughed at the end of his question. You nodded, “You did. But I’m flattered, so thank you.” 

You messed with his jacket, “And you’re good, Lieutenant. Maybe too good to be true.” 

“You’re stroking my ego, Darlin’.” You giggled and gave him a quick kiss, “I better head back in.” He grabbed your waist, “Do you have to?” “Do you want to have fun or not?” He bit his lip and you patted his chest and walked in. 

He watched you walk in and shook his head. Laughing to himself he adjusted his posture and went in and straight to the pool table.

You and Jake hung out at the bar for hours after that, having the time of your life. 

You danced to the music that came from the jukebox, played darts and you watched him play pool. You drank and ate, Penny keeping an eye on you both because you had to drive back home to your son and Jake did not need a hangover in the morning.

But you didn’t need the drinks to have a good time. Like right now. Jake had suggested another round of darts, but this time, you added a few spins before your throw. Almost like kids getting ready to hit a pinata at a party.

Jake grinned as he spun you around a few times. “Okay, now that you’re properly dizzy, why don’t you try and get a bullseye?” 

“You’re kidding me,” you giggled as you swayed a little on your feet. “I doubt I’m gonna hit the target. I can’t hit it when I’m standing straight, what makes you think I can hit it when I’m dizzy?”

He shook his head and turned you by your shoulders to square up to the board. “Who knows, maybe you’ll be better?” You snorted as you raised the dart, “I highly doubt that.” He scoffed playfully, “Just throw the dart, Y/N.”

You giggled, “Okay okay.” 

Your tongue poked out of the seam of your lips as your vision swam a bit and you lined up your shot. 

Taking a few balk throws, you finally get ready to actually throw it when there is a harsh crack, followed by a loud, booming sound – loud enough to rattle the windows.

“Oh shit!”

Any attempt you had made to actually aim the dart didn’t matter, because when you jumped at the harsh thunder the dart was sent on its own journey.

You laughed at your reaction to the sudden thunder and leaned back against Jake, “I can blame that horrible throw on the thunder, right?” He looked over your shoulder, seeing the dart about a foot and a half under the board in the wall.

“You sure it was thunder?” 

Your jaw dropped and you smacked his chest with the back of your hand, “That was uncalled for Seresin. But I walked into that one.” You both laughed as Jake nodded, “Yeah, I guess I can give you another shot Bradshaw.”

“Well, thank you oh so gracious Hangman,” you sassed a little as you readied another dart. “I’m actually gonna try this time.”

He chuckled and crossed his arms as he watched you repeat your process, his eyes drawn to your lips as your tongue once again pokes out. 

You managed to throw the dart just as the lights flickered out. 

“Are you fucking serious? The weather really doesn’t want me to hit this board,” you grumbled as you pulled your phone out to use your flashlight. 

Jake did the same, him immediately shining it at the dart board.

“Look at what we have here, you actually hit the board,” he teased as he walked up to the board. “Not a bullseye, but you hit it.” You flipped your hair, “Look at me go. Mama’s still got it.” 

Jake gave you a look, his face deadpanned and his brow low. You held his eyes, yours playfully squinting. 

It was a standoff for about 20 seconds before you both started laughing.

“C’mon Mother Goose, let’s go to the bar,” he chuckled as he grabbed your hand gently.

You froze for a second, confused as to where he got that nickname from – forgetting it was just a nursery rhyme to everyone else at that moment. 

He looked at you, frowning in concern, “Hey, sweetheart, you okay?” 

You shook it off, swallowing as you nodded, “Yeah, yeah… I’m okay.” 

With a furrowed brow, he stepped closer, tilting your chin up with a crooked finger, “You’re not afraid of the dark, are you?” 

His light tease pulled you back fully. 

“N-No, I’m fine, it’s okay,” you said softly as you shook your head. He cupped your cheek, “Are you sure?” You nodded, “Yeah, yeah, just thought of Nicky… He’s not the best with storms sometimes.” 

“Do you wanna check in on him? Make sure he’s doing okay? Especially now that the power’s out.” 

You chewed on your lip, your thumb and pinky tapping rhythmically on your thigh. “Are you sure it’s okay?” 

Jake nodded, “Of course it is! That’s your baby, do not question if it’s okay. It’s always okay.” You immediately open your contacts, “Thank you.” 

He smiled, squeezing your hand, “I’ll be at the bar when you’re ready, if you gotta go home, that’s okay.”

You gave him a smile and mouthed a ‘thank you’ as your phone rang, waiting for Serenity to pick up. 

Jake nodded again before going over to the bar.

Penny and Jimmy were turning on battery powered lanterns and setting them up around the bar. 

“You guys need some help?” Jake offered as he leaned on the bar.

She looked up at him as she sat a lantern down on the bar, “You don’t think you could get the power back on, could ya?” 

Jake laughed lightly, “If my call sign was Sparky, I might be able to give it a shot. Unfortunately, it’s not.” Penny shook her head with a laugh, “It’s alright Hangman, once we get these set up, we’ll hopefully get the generator up and running.” 

He nodded, “In the meantime, I’ll take two waters, if you can spare them.” She nodded with a smile, “Coming right up.”

As she got the bottles out of the ice bucket she prepped after looking at the forecast, you came over after finishing up your call.

You sighed a little as you sat down. 

“Hey,” Jake greeted as he rubbed your knee. “How’s the little man holdin’ up? He alright?” You nodded, smiling as you rested your hand on his, “Yeah, Serenity said he was snuggled up on the couch with his turtle and his manta ray, watching movies with plenty of goldfish crackers.”

Penny popped up, “You have power?” 

“Nope,” you laughed a little awkwardly. “He’s watching it on Serenity’s laptop. Which I told her she didn’t have to let him do that. She’s got stuff to do for summer classes but mine was dead. I just hope she doesn’t get behind.”

She gave you your water, “She’s a good kid, I’m sure she’ll be okay for one night.” You nodded and sipped your drink, “Yeah.”

You looked around noticing that everyone started to mellow out since the place was practically pitch black – save for the lanterns.

“Man… seems the lights weren’t the only thing the storm took out. How long until the generator is up and running?” You asked, leaning on the bar. 

Penny shrugged, “I don’t know. It depends, we haven’t used it in a few years. It shouldn’t take too long, I think Jimmy checked on it after the clouds rolled in and the forecast changed.”

You nodded and looked around, “Well, maybe some live music can hold everyone over until then.” Penny and Jake furrowed their brows as you grabbed a lantern and went over to the piano.

“What? Did you seriously think that Bradley was the only one of my father’s kids that could play? C’mon now Penny, you should know better than that,” you teased with a playful wink over your shoulder.

Jake furrowed his brow, “Have you been holding out on me Mother Goose?” His tone was entirely playful as he came over to piano with his phone flashlight on as a fresh toothpick hung from his lips.

Penny blinked and looked up, a rush of nostalgia hitting her, “Wait did you just call her ‘Mother Goose’?” Jake looked up at her and nodded as he rolled the toothpick to the other side of his mouth, “Yes ma’am I did.” She nodded and glanced at you as she wiped down the bar, “And um… w-where did that nickname come from?” 

He shrugged, “She’s got a little duck on her keychain and she’s a mama. Just kinda makes sense, I guess. Why do you ask?” 

You couldn’t help but smile a little as you tapped the keys. 

“Oh I was just-” Penny started but you cut her off gently.

“Goose was my dad’s call sign, Jake. A lot of his friends from the Academy and flight school called him ‘Mother Goose’,” you said, emotion present in your voice but you weren’t sad.

Jake stumbled over his words a little, “Oh I-I had no idea. I can stop if you w-want me too.” 

You shook your head, a smile gracing your features as you looked up at him, “No no, it’s okay Jake. It definitely shocked me when you called me that earlier, but it’s… nice.”

He smiled back at you and sat down, “I’ll call you whatever you want, Darlin’.” 

A giggle slipped past your lips and you were now thankful that the poor lighting hid the blush on your cheeks as you tested more keys.

You took a breath and readied your fingers on the right keys, “Okay okay, let’s get these people fired up.”

Jake arched his brow but then you played the opening notes to a song he heard non-stop in flight school when the class went out to a bar.

“Jerry Lee Lewis? You really are Bradshaw’s sister,” he laughed, gently nudging your shoulder but not so much as to mess you up.

You just rolled your eyes before jumping into the song. “~You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain!~”

Jake chuckled as people in the bar began to cheer, a few patrons jumping in to sing with you. He looked around, seeing that the flashlights on phones had been turned on and everyone’s moods seemed to flip on dime.

“~You broke my will! Oh what a thrill!~”

“~Goodness gracious great balls of fire!~”

His eyes landed back on you, watching you play the piano like he had only ever seen your brother play. It was lively, bringing an energy to the bar that got zapped out with the electricity. Almost as if the lightning hit you and you soaked up all the energy in the bar, and now you were returning it when it was needed.

He felt himself singing along, unable to escape the way that your infectious voice seemed to latch on to everyone that heard it. 

Jake had always fought the urge to ‘feel the music’ when it was your brother. Be the one person in the bar unaffected by him. But here with you, he didn’t fight. He didn’t want to fight it. And he was unashamed to be sitting next to you on that piano bench, singing a song that you were sure your brother had played to death. 

He saw you smile at him when you noticed it, feeding off of his energy just as much as he was feeding off of yours.

You found yourself looking only at him to see if he was enjoying himself, using him as a reference point for how the rest of the bar was feeling. That your attempt at entertainment was working.

It felt good to see everyone having fun because of you.

Now you could understand why your dad and Bradley did this so often.

Your smile never left your face as you continued to sing, though you hated how the song was coming to an end so soon.

Jake met your eyes as you started the last verse, his smiling matching yours. 

“~I chew my nails and I twiddle my thumbs!~”

“~Real nervous but it sure is fun!~”

He watched your eyes light up as he sang the words back to you and the blush crawled up your neck. You clearly weren’t expecting him to sing that line to you – telling you how you made him feel through the song.

So, he continued to look at you, holding eye contact as he sang through a wide, infectious smile, using the lyrics to convey what he had trouble putting into words once again. 

“~Come on, baby! You’re drivin’ me crazy!~”

His heart fluttered when you seemed like you were at a loss for words, despite them already being written for you – all you could do was smile as your muscle memory continued to play.

“~Goodness, gracious! Great balls of fire!~”

You played the last string of notes, your face dangerously close to Jake’s as the soft glow of the lanterns and phone flashlights illuminated his features almost angelically, the lights creating a halo around him and blurring the crowd like a camera focusing in on the subject of its image. His green eyes, though casted in a shadow, twinkled softly as he looked your face over like you were the only thing in the room – and to him, you were.

He was seeing the same thing. The blues of LEDs and the yellow of the lanterns created a harsh but gorgeous contrast on your face as your chest heaved when you attempted to catch your breath and the light sheen of sweat made your skin shine in a way he never thought about before. Your eyes were illuminated, but they held a shine of their own when you looked him over.

The cheers behind him all melded into one sound, one that Jake could confuse for his own heartbeat if it wasn’t pounding against his ribcage.

There was no hesitation this time as he pulled you close by the nape of your neck and pressed his lips to yours with breathless passion.

Your outside hand fisted in his Henley shirt, the fabric warm but a little rough under your fingertips. His heart was thumping rhythmically against your knuckles, giving the butterflies in your stomach a beat to dance to.

His hand moved down to the side of your neck, his thumb finding your pulse point. The sensation of your heartbeat under his fingertips was mesmerizing.

The kiss felt both like an eternity and not long enough when you finally pulled away, both of your lips damp and as your breath mixed as your foreheads rested against each other.

Around you, the crowd was still buzzing with energy, talking to each other as they started mingling again. 

But you and Jake couldn’t hear them, not when you're so consumed with one another right there on the piano bench. You were in your own little world, a small sanctuary in the middle of the bar. Just you and him.

Smiling, you can’t stop the giggle from escaping as you try to smooth out where you had gripped his shirt. “That was um…”

“Electrifying?” Jake offered, his dimple appearing as he smirked playfully.

“That’s one way to put it, yeah,”  you said with a light, slightly breathless laugh.

He chuckled and opened his mouth to say something else, but the overhead lights flickered for a split second before they stayed steady and the sound of the jukebox started up again.

You both sat up straight, looking around the bar as the patrons started back up in their games they abandoned.

“Would you look at that – one song and you managed to light up the whole bar, literally,” Jake said as he looked from his surroundings and then back to you, taking in how you smiled at everyone having fun again.

You hummed, turning your head with a playful glint in your eye, “Well, thank goodness it was only one song. I don’t know if I could’ve played another one. Unless Twinkle Twinkle Little Star counts.” 

Jake laughed as he stood up, offering you a hand to pull you to your feet. “Well, if Nick was here, I’m pretty sure he would have a blast if you played that.” 

“Oh, yeah, he definitely would,” you said with a laugh as you pushed some hair out of your face. “Another drink?”

He nodded, fluffing his shirt a little. “I can go for another.”

You grabbed his hand and pulled him to the bar, “Penny!”

After you got your drinks, you and Jake went to a booth by the windows.

“That was really impressive, Y/N. I knew Rooster was good, but he’s not that good,” Jake complimented as he sipped his fresh beer. The bitter liquid soothed his throat, his voice a little raw after singing.

You shrugged and sipped your Amaretto, the warm liquid warming you up from the chill of the rain outside. “I don’t know about that. He’s been playing since he was little. I started getting into piano in, like, middle school. And then in college I um.. I picked up a little guitar.”

Jake watched you bite your lip, your nails tapping against the glass of your drink. He wasn’t entirely sure what caused that far off look to appear in your eyes, a fogginess he wasn’t familiar with. But one thing he did recognize was that flicker of love, a shine of longing and admiration peaking through the fog – like a lighthouse on the shore.

He didn’t know much about Kendall, just what you had told him. He knew that you had met in college, you had been friends before you began dating, and that Kendall played the guitar – his favorite one tucked into the corner of Nick’s bedroom.

You cleared your throat, blinking the fogginess away and pulling Jake out of his thoughts. 

You rubbed your hands on your jeans before resting your elbows on the table to talk with your hands, desperate to keep the conversation flowing.

“But like I was saying, Brad and I are very different when it comes to singing and playing the piano. He definitely channels our dad a little more than I do.”

He chuckled and leaned forward, resting his upper body on his forearms, “Well, I think I’m a little biased when it comes to that. But don’t sell yourself short, Darlin’, you put on quite the performance.” He added an unnecessary wink, but it didn’t stop you from smiling and looking at the table to hide your blush.

You lifted your head and smiled at him, sniffling just a little. “Thank you, Jake. That means a lot.”

Jake reached over and squeezed your hand, “Anytime.” He cleared his throat, “If you don’t mind me asking, that song clearly means a lot to you and Rooster, why-why is that?”

Tears stung your eyes a bit, again, but your smile didn’t falter. “Our dad, he um… he played it all the time. And I mean all the time. I’m surprised our mother stayed sane.” Jake reached up and wiped a tear that slipped through. You leaned into his warm palm slightly, as you continued.

“One of our last memories with him was sitting at the piano as he sang that song. Our mom in his lap singing with him without a care in the world about who was watching…” Your voice was a little heavier as you neared the end of your sentence, the memory making you a little emotional.

He smiled and squeezed your hand again, his thumb rubbing your knuckles, “That’s beautiful.” You gave him a soft smile and squeezed his hand back. 

“Can I show you something?” He asked softly, not wanting to disturb the moment too much.

You nodded and sat up a little straighter, wiping your eyes as you spoke, “Of course.” 

Jake nodded his head towards the window and your eyes followed the direction. 

The glass was a little foggy, sweating as the cold temperature of the rain was meeting the warm air of the bar and the glass acting like a mediator between the two.

Your brow furrowed in immediate confusion though you weren’t going to question Jake just yet. There was certainly much more to it.

And he proved your suspicions by bringing his finger up to draw in the condensation.

It was a quick drawing, a simple sun with a smiley face and a little heart next to it. But the look on Jake’s face told you it was so much more than just a little doodle on a window.

“That’s really cute Jake,” you said softly, as you smile at him.

His grin widened and he shifted in his seat. “When I was little, I was never good with storms. My sister was even worse. She was scared and I was upset because I couldn’t go play in the rain.” 

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up when he said that, the picture of a young Jake pouting in his room as he watched the rain out of his window in your head – he definitely picked out two droplets to race against each other, maybe even him and his sister picked one and had a competition.

He just smiled at you before continuing.

“My grandma and my mom had this routine with us where they would have us by the bay window in the living room and we would draw in the condensation. And I, of course, rubbed my wet hand on my sister’s face,” he said with a small chuckle.

“That I’m definitely not surprised by. Bradley pestered me too, still does, it’s a brother thing.”

Jake nodded, “Oh yeah, for sure. But aside from that, there was a purpose to why my mom and grandma had us do this. Because as you can see now-” He pointed to the drawing, seeing that it was already dripping and disappearing, more condensation taking its place. “-it’s already going away.”

Your brow furrowed in confusion. You still weren’t exactly sure where Jake was going, but it was clear this was something he held onto and cherished. Especially for him to bring it up now, years later. Plus, he had you roped in now, you were invested in this little smiling sun. 

“The whole point of drawing in the fog was because it doesn’t last forever, and neither would the storm outside. Or any storm, really. As I got older, we stopped the window drawings, but my mom kept it up with us for little things. Like when my sister was going through a break up, she drew a sun with a little heart on a note and put it in her backpack. I can bet you that she still has every note, because I know I do.”

Tears pricked your eyes a little bit, “That’s really really beautiful, Jake. Your mom and grandma sound like very wise women.”

Jake nodded, a proud smile pulling at his lips, “They are, I’m lucky to have them.”

You mirrored his smile and you both went back to conversing with each other, planning out ideas for your next ‘not’ date.

“There’s so much to do here, so much it’s like there’s nothing,” you said, laughing as you sipped your drink.

You had listed off a lot of places to go nearby and all the things you could do together, but it all sounded so fun that you were having trouble deciding.

Jake nodded, rubbing his face a little as he laughed, “Yeah, seems like it.” He glanced around, noticing a pool table nearby. “Hey, how about we think on it some more later and just play a game of pool?”

You hummed a little and glanced over your shoulder at the pool table. 

A sly smile came over your face as an idea popped into your mind. 

You turned back to face him, biting your lip a little, “I um… wow this is embarrassing, I haven’t really ever played pool before.”

Jake squinted at you, almost analyzing you to see if you were just fucking with him. But you just played it up by hiding your face in your hands, hiding the grin that you knew would give you away if he spotted it.

“You’re serious? You’ve never played pool before?”

His tone was inquisitive, but it also had a laugh behind it that he was hiding as best he could and it almost had you laughing.

“No no, I have played before. But it’s just been too long. Last time I played it was maybe 10 years ago when I was in high school, and I was awful.”

Jake’s laugh finally broke through at that.

“Hey! Don’t laugh!” You whined, holding back giggles of your own.

He nodded, trying to stop himself by clearing his throat. “You’re right, you’re right. It’s not funny. It’s… it’s kinda sad actually.”

You dropped your jaw and reached over the table to swat at his shoulder. “Oh shut up!” 

He chuckled as he dodged your hand, and you couldn’t help but smile as the corners of his eyes crinkled and his dimples poked through. “Okay okay, I’m sorry. But c'mon let’s play at least one game,” he proposed as he slid out of the booth and stood. He offered you his hand, a wink accompanying his next words, “And I promise I’ll go easy on you.”

You rolled your eyes and took his hand, “Fine, one game.”

A victorious grin crossed Jake’s face as he pulled you to your feet, squeezing your hand as he turned and pulled you to the table. Your lips pulled up in a similar fashion as you stumbled a little when he drug you behind him. 

“Okay,” he said as he came to stop at the pool table. “I don’t have to explain the rules, do I?” His brow arched with his question, only using it to further his teasing. You rolled your eyes, hand going on your hip, “No, I know that much, Seresin.” The sass in your tone made Jake laugh, “Alright, Bradshaw, let’s play.”

You nodded and grabbed the two pool cues, “Let’s.”

He chuckled and shook his head playfully as he quickly racked the pool balls. Once they were all in order, he took the triangle off and tossed it on a table as he walked over to you.

His fingers wrapped around the taller cue, his warm hand encapsulating yours. 

How had you not realized how large his hand was until now?

“Y/N?”

You shook your head, not having realized that you froze, “Oh um, sorry, sorry.”  You let go of the pool cue, clearing your throat as you pushed some hair behind your ear. He chuckled at your sudden shyness, “It’s alright, darlin’. It’s cute when you get all blushy.” You huffed, though a smile pulled at your lips as you shoved his shoulder. 

Jake laughed and held his hands up in defense, only slightly jostled by your shove. He gestured to the table and grabbed the cue ball, “Okay, okay, you wanna break?” He punctuated his question by putting the ball on the table with a *clack*.

You bit your lip, still feigning nervousness as best you could. You nodded and walked around to the end of the table beside him. 

Tossing the cue up and catching it lower, you leaned over and nearly fell into muscle memory – letting the end come down and rest easy in the dip between your thumb and pointer finger.

You rolled your shoulders a little bit, moving your hand much lower on the stick so you would have less control of the cue. You relaxed your shoulders, letting them drop as your right hand tightened its grip. The maple cue rested on the walnut of the table, using it as the support for the middle of the stick. 

Jake tilted his head, taking in your posture. It was… unconventional, and maybe a little awkward. But he wasn’t going to step in just yet, because maybe that stance just worked for you. And the look of concentration on your face was just too cute for him to interrupt.

Much like earlier at the dart board, your brow furrowed and your tongue poked out from between your lips. Jake grinned at the sight, and he couldn’t help but wonder if Nick made the same face when he focused on something. Like if his nose crinkled like yours did when he colored or if he stuck his tongue out when he did a puzzle. 

Then his mind wandered a little further. 

The image of a little girl appeared in his head, basically a clone of you in your lap as you sat at the piano. You guiding her hand along the keys, then having her repeat the order on her own. Her tongue sticking out as she tries to remember. 

But before he can fantasize any longer, he shakes himself out of it once you take your shot.

He watched the tip of the cue whiff the ball as the butt nearly became perpendicular to the floor. “Woah there!” 

You covered your mouth with your hand, doing your best to feign embarrassment at your ‘failure’. “Oh.. my.. gosh.. I can’t believe that just happened,” you snorted, laughing at yourself as you looked up at the ceiling, hoping that a blush was covering your cheeks to really sell it. 

Jake came over to stand next to you, chuckling just a little. “So um… is that how you held it in high school?” He leaned against the table, the cue snug against his side as he crossed his arms, looking down at his boots as he crossed his ankles before looking up at your profile.

You swallowed as you kept your eyes on the ceiling, and Jake couldn’t help but watch the column of your throat move with the action. 

Sighing, you looked at him, “I mean, kinda, like I said, it’s been awhile. But that felt so wrong.” You looked away from him and focused on your cue. “And now I’m embarrassed… because you just saw that.” 

He sighed gently, a smile pulling at his lips. While you were embarrassed, he couldn’t help but admire the blush on your skin. He didn’t like the reason, because you shouldn’t be embarrassed, but you looked cute.

He reached out and turned your head to face him, smiling softly at you. “Hey, you don’t have to be embarrassed. It happens, and I guarantee that is not the worst shot I’ve seen.” 

“That doesn’t make me feel any better.” 

He sighed and propped his cue against the wall, “C’mere.” He adjusted the cue ball again and gently pulled you to him when you hesitated to move closer. “I don’t bite, unless you ask,” he whispered the last half of that in your ear, his accent slightly thicker as you felt his lips curl into a smile against the lobe of your ear.

His warm breath raised goosebumps on the skin of your neck, a shiver going down the nerves of your spine. He chuckled, his chest rumbling against your shoulder and making you giggle as a genuine flush covered your face and neck.

“Okay,” Jake said, turning you gently so your back settled against his chest. His hand rested on your hip and everything just felt right. Both of you slotted together like a puzzle piece, it was comfortable.

He looked down at you, “Am I too close?” 

Your head shook almost embarrassingly quickly. If anything he wasn’t close enough.

“No no, you’re okay.”

He nodded, smiling at you, “Alright, just let me know, okay?” You swallowed, nodding back, “I will.”

“Alright, now, I’m gonna show you how to properly hold a pool stick. Do what you were doing before.”

You nodded, bending back over and mimicking the stance you had done previously.

Jake looked at you gaging what to adjust. “Okay, so one issue is, your back hand is too low. Don’t shake hands with the bumper.” He took your wrist and tried to slide your hand up but it barely moved. “And you don’t need a death grip on it, it’s not going anywhere unless you move it.” You nodded and relaxed your grip to let him adjust your hand placement. 

He moved it to about the middle of the weight and watched your guiding hand adjust itself to a bit more of a natural position.

Smiling, he glanced down at you, “There we go, how does that feel?” You nodded, “A lot better, definitely more comfortable.”

“Perfect, and that’s how you know you’re doing it right. Before you were uncomfortable and it threw off your control. You guide the cue, it doesn’t guide you.”

You snorted a little, hanging your head as you laughed, “You sound like a therapist, or a yoga instructor.” Jake laughed along with you, “Unfortunately I’m neither of those. Not qualified nor flexible enough.”

You arched a brow and looked at him over your shoulder, a cheeky smile on your lips, “Not flexible enough? Oh, that’s a shame.” His eyebrows raised, almost as if he was sizing up a challenge, “Oh is it now? I mean, I’m sure with enough stretching, I’ll be good to go.”

You laughed before shaking your head, “Okay okay, let’s stay on task, Lieutenant, yeah?”

“Right, right, of course.” 

Jake cleared his throat as his fingers wrapped around your shoulders, “Okay, being relaxed is fine. But you’re too loose and that makes it awkward.” He slowly pulled them out from their slouched position, straightening your back a little in the process. “That’s better.” 

You swallowed a little, the heat of his chest against your back making you both nervous and excited.

“Do you feel more in control?” You nodded at his question, not trusting your voice to be steady. “Good, now, let’s test this.”

Worry shot through you for a moment, afraid he might step back and let you do this on your own – squashing the mini fantasy that you created.

But your worry was smothered when Jake adjusted his own stance, his knees nudging the backs of your thighs. His right hand encased your own as his left hand acted as a stand for yours – keeping your guiding hand steady.

“Loosen your grip, Duckie. It’s not gonna change your power. In pool, the speed determines the power.”

Jake’s voice was steady, but it was raspy as he spoke in your ear again. His breath fanned along your ear lobe and your jaw, raising goosebumps once again.

He felt your wrist and hand relax a little, and he just hoped you couldn’t feel his heart beating against your back. 

“Alright, there we go. Now, all you gotta do is bring it back and–”

His sentence fell short as the felt tip collided with the cue ball and he felt a vibrating sensation against his hip.

“See? So much better. And now, if that’s your phone in your pocket, I think you’re getting a call.”

He stepped back and let you stand straight as you pulled your phone out.

Your heart dropped slightly when you saw Serenity’s contact flash across your screen. 

Did something happen to Nick? Was he okay? Did something happen to the house? What went wrong?

Jake must have noticed that your face changed on dime, because his face fell into one of concern. “Y/N? What’s wrong? Is everything okay?” 

Was it Serenity? Was it Bradley? Was it a chaplain? Or hell an NCIS agent?

“It’s Serenity,” you said as you pressed the green answer button and brought the phone to your ear. “Hey Ren, what’s up?”

Jake sighed in relief, his worst thoughts going off to the wayside in favor of just worried thoughts.

You brought your hand up, chewing on the edges of your nails as she spoke.

“Hey, Y/N, everything’s okay–”

Jake watched your body visibly relax, your hand rubbing at your mouth much like he’d seen Bradley do when he was stressed.

“Nicky’s okay? Nothing’s on fire?” 

“No, nothing’s on fire. But Nicky is not wanting to go to bed without you here. I think it's the rain, the storm I should say. He doesn’t want to go to his room. Won’t even get up off the couch.”

You sighed but nodded, “Okay, I’ll be there in a little bit. Get his turtle and his manta ray, then get my body spray and lightly spritz a blanket and let him curl up on the couch until I get there.”

“I’m so sorry Y/N, I know you wanted to have a fun night out… I just didn’t know what to do.”

“Don’t apologize, I’m glad you called. I’ll be home in a little bit.” 

You hung up and looked at Jake, “I’m so sorry, Jake. Nicky is–”

He held his hand up, “Nope, no apologies, go be with your baby. We can meet up later. Tell Nicky I said ‘hi’.”

Your heart skipped a few beats as you smiled at him. He smiled back and nodded towards the front door, “Now go Mother Goose, you got a duckling waiting on you.” 

The look in his eyes was nothing short of fond, the yellow overhead lighting making his eyes a comforting shade of green. 

He wasn’t upset at all, no disdain for your sudden departure on his features. Was he disappointed? Yeah, but you were always going to be a mother first. He couldn’t and would never get in the way of that, or try to change it.

You hugged him, and he didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around your waist in reciprocation. 

“Thank you,” you kissed his cheek in thanks as you pulled away from the hug. “You don’t have to thank me, Darlin’. Just text me or call me when you get home safe, okay?” He said with a smile, gently squeezing your shoulders.

You nodded, matching his smile, “Of course, as long as you do the same?” He winked, “You got it.” 

He grabbed your purse for you, “Drive safe, Sweetheart.” You nodded, “I will. Bye Jake.” “Bye Y/N.”

You smiled at him again before going over to the bar, patting the top with the palm of your hand. You opened your mouth to get Penny’s attention but she was already smiling at you. “Heading out?” Your head tilted as you nodded, “Yeah, how’d you know?” She shrugged, nodding down to the bag hanging off your shoulder, “Lucky guess.” 

Chuckling, you pulled your wallet out, “Nicky won’t go to bed, the storm is keeping him up.” You pulled out a fifty, “For my drinks and Jake’s, the rest is your tip.” Penny shook her head, pushing the money back towards you, “That’s way too much, Duckie. 25 is plenty. Plus, Jake’s tab is open and your drinks are on it.” 

“Penny Benjamin–”

“Y/N Bradshaw, don’t argue and go home to your son,” Penny pointed to the door to punctuate her order, the damp towel swaying slightly from her movement.

Huffing out a ‘fine’, you put the fifty away and put a ten on the bar, “I’m still tipping you, because I love you. Not as much as you deserve, but you’re gonna fight me on it.” She smiled gratefully at you, taking the bill, “Thank you, now go home. Text me when you get there.” 

You patted the bar again, “Yes, ma’am. I’ll see you later, don’t let Jake get too drunk.” 

With that you walked to the door, though Penny stopped you with a shout. 

“That was an Oscar worthy performance by the way!” 

You rolled your eyes, waving to her as you slipped your jacket on, “Bye Penny!”

phew!

that was a long one huh? but hey, we finally got a kiss! they kissed!! and before hand we got a little peak into duckie's insecurities as a mom. though we can all agree she's pretty great right?

i hope you guys liked this chapter and are ready to see where the next chapter takes duckie, nicky, and jake!

hi darlings i know it's been a long time, too long, but like i said before -- i wanted to make sure this was a chapter i was proud of and lately my creative battery just wouldn't behave and it's been hard to write and like what i write. but i think... i think i did it here.

my ducklings <33:

@roosterscockpit @milesdickpic @luckyladycreator2 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @hisredheadedgoddess28 @malindacath @avengers-fixation @shawnsblue @caitsymichelle13 @classycolorpeach @mamachasesmayhem @bobby-r2d2-floyd @twsssmlmaa

@horseshoegirl @startrekfangirl2233 @babyreads​ @amatswimming @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @hangmansgbaby​ @callsignwidow @kmc1989​ @goodstuff28​ @pjngpp3501​ @lunamoonbby​ @joyfulpandamiracle​ @craftyinfluencersandwich @averyhotchner​ @emily-roberts​ @teenwolf01 @sunderland-6​ @bethabear12

@coldmuffinbanditshoe​ @dempy​ @djs8891​ @ingoaliesitrust @novavida @tigerfan24 @lynnestra44​​ @lilmonstrjedi @yourlocalloser-core @adventures4ever @onlyheretowastetime @mygyn @buckysvinyl @allyyssaa @clockworksficstoread @elisha-chloe @abaker74

[orion-r34l1ty]

Crash

Summary: Omega’s just finished up a mission for the Rebellion. But her ship’s been hit hard, and all systems are failing. As she falls out of Hyperspace, she finds a small bit of comfort in Tech’s goggles, as if he’s there with her.

Word Count: 1203

Notes: Another request from @mantellmix ! I love writing sad stuff. Short one-shot, enjoy!

Tag List: @mantellmix @a-cryptid-called-magetha

Things weren’t going well. They had been, for a while, but not anymore. Omega had just finished another mission for the Rebellion. She was supposed to take out an Imperial factory and get all the workers out. She did that. And may have accidentally taken down a nearby Star Destroyer. But it was fine. Or it was supposed to be. The workers were heading back to their families on the planet, the Empire was down a factory and a Star Destroyer, and Omega’s hyperdrive was in critical failure.

She watched as the blue streaks around her turned orange and pink, as she was thrown out of Hyperspace. Her console was beeping and flashing and sparking, only making the job more stressful. Gonky was in the back of the ship, shut down and being unhelpful. Even some reassurance would be nice. But she was alone.

Omega tried to take control of the ship’s trajectory, flipping on the emergency stabilizers and trying to steer. But it was no use. The ship was crashing down towards a nearby moon, out of control and buying Omega a one-way ticket to a very gruesome death. No, she couldn’t think like that. Yet.

Omega gave up on trying to control the steering and began running around the ship, fixing whatever she saw was sparking. But every time she fixed something, five more systems broke. She looked out the window and saw the ship was entering the atmosphere. She ran to the console and hit her distress signal. She looked up to the window again, seeing the orange and red flames begin appearing around her ship from such a sharp entry. She saw Tech’s goggles on the dashboard. She picked them up and held them tightly in her hands. Did he ever have to deal with a crash like this? He would at least have help. Omega was on her own. With only the reminders of her brothers sitting around.

Would they be proud? How would they even find out? Who would find her? If it was an Imperial, they’d never know. Another rebel? Maybe. She hadn’t told anyone where she was from yet, or who her family was. She hadn’t gotten to know anyone that well yet. Would they know who she was? Would they find her family and tell them?

Omega held Tech’s goggles closer as the ship kept falling. She could nearly see the planet’s surface now. Omega took Tech’s goggles and moved them over her ponytail and onto her neck. She sat down in the pilot’s chair and looked out at the scene before her. The noise of the warning sensors and sparks of the consoles were nothing now. Omega just stared aimlessly. She felt tears welling up as she placed a hand on the goggles. She felt the broken glass between her fingertips as she sighed. She laughed a bit in disbelief and felt the first tear roll down her face.

“I think this is it, Tech.” She spoke to the air. “See you soon.”

Omega closed her eyes and braced for impact. She’d been here before, hadn’t she? On Bora Vio, and her daring escape from Cad Bane. In that tiny flight pod, hands cuffed together. She’d just pushed that tiny droid off her. What was his name? Toto? Todo? It was so many years ago, but it wasn’t an experience easily forgotten. Omega remembered how loyal he was to Bane. But it clearly didn’t go both ways. She felt a little sorry for him. I guess you feel sorry about everything at the end.

She had felt so scared in that pod. She was just a kid. She was scared now. She was no longer a kid. She kept waiting and waiting for everything to stop. She’d thought about death a lot, to be honest. Back when she’d first left Kamino, it was a constant thing. It stopped for a while when Hemlock died, and they got to live on Pabu, but since joining the Rebellion it was back. That excitement. That risk. She’d underestimated it, and now she was paying the price. But she had Tech with her. She had her brother.

Omega kept waiting. But everything was the same. She was still sitting in the pilot seat, still holding Tech’s goggles around her neck, still alive. She finally opened her eyes to see she was being pulled out of the planet’s atmosphere. She looked around in confusion. A button on her console was blinking, one that signaled someone was trying to comm her. She pressed it, hoped it wouldn’t break, and waited. A few moments of silence passed as Omega saw the fiery horizon turn back to the darkness of space, and then a familiar voice came through the comm.

“Got yourself into some trouble, kid?”

Hunter’s voice was the last thing Omega expected to hear, but it was welcome. It was so welcome.

“Hunter?!” Omega exclaimed, her worry gone in a flash. They had come for her. She was safe.

The boarding hatch opened on Omega’s ship as she ran into her brother’s arms. Hunter smiled softly, holding her close. Omega heard a familiar, gravelly laugh coming from the bench on Phee’s ship (which they had arrived on).

“How touching.” Crosshair said, flicking a toothpick onto the floor. Omega ran over and hugged him as well, overjoyed to see her family again. “Only a month into the Rebellion, and we’re already coming to get you.” He snickered, hugging her back. Omega scoffed and pulled away, crossing her arms with a smirk on her face.

“Hardly needed it. Besides, you’re getting too old for this anyways.”

“We’re never too old!” Boomed Wrecker’s voice. Omega went over and hugged him as well. He laughed and held her close. Crosshair smirked, she really hadn’t changed.

“And you’re still a terrible liar.” He said, folding his arms. Hunter was going to make a snarky remark about the state of her ship, but then noticed something else. Something around her neck.

“Are those…Tech’s goggles?” He asked, something in his voice breaking. He hadn’t seen the old, shattered goggles in so long. And Omega was wearing them. Omega stepped away from Wrecker and took the goggles off, examining them in her hands.

“They…are. And you’re right. I did need your help. I got into a…bad situation. In over my head a bit. Ship was failing. Spirit was failing. I…I thought I was going to die. It brought me some comfort, at the very least.” Omega said, smiling fondly at the goggles. “It’s like he’s there with me.” The ship was silent. A silence of remembrance. They never properly talked about losing Tech when it happened. Not like they got the chance. There were conversations over the years, but Omega couldn’t remember a time where they all sat down and actually talked about him, purposefully.

“…he’s always with us. Just like how we’re always with you.” Hunter finally said, smiling warmly at Omega. “We’ll always be there. Burning ship or not. We’re a call away.” He put a hand on her shoulder as she wiped away a tear. “You’re our kid, Omega, like I’ve told you a thousand times. Now come on, let’s fix up your ship.”

[gaybananabread]

♪*✧⁠Ramshackle Day Off✧⁠*♪

~It’s official: I’ve gained yet another hyperfixation. I absolutely LOVED the pilot for Ramshackle; the trash goblins grabbed my focus. So, as with all my faves, they’re getting the special treatment. If this is your flavor of interest, I hope you Enjoy!~

Lee: Stone

Lers: Skipp, Vinnie

Summary: Stone’s having one of his emo moments, feeling down and not even cracking his usual half-smile. Skipp and Vinnie decide to help, using the one method they know will always cheer up their grungy friend. 

Warnings: alcohol/cigarettes mentioned! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!

In their slum alley, the three lovable scraps lounged about, enjoying one of the very few days where they didn't have to fight to survive.

Vinnie had hit the motherload that morning in a dumpster: an entire case of Hickory Smoked Beans, just past their expiration date. It was a Ramshackle miracle.

Since they didn't have to forage for money or food, the trio could take a sort of off-day. While Vinnie and Skipp were lounging and making the most of it, Stone couldn't help but feel morose.

Sure, they had enough food for a few days. But what happens after that? What would they do when they ran out and had to go back to their normal pattern? What if they couldn't get enough, and not even shoes could sustain them?

He'd usually just chug a bit of liquor to calm those thoughts, but it didn't seem to be doing much. Life felt…impossibly meaningless. Like no matter how hard they tried, the universe would continue to put them in their place at the very bottom.

Stone had a particular look when he got into those moods. His eyes seemed distant, he sighed more, and a bottle of some cheap, scavenged liquor was always nearby. 

While looking for some fabric to patch his newest jacket hole, Skipp noticed his friend's sullen attitude. It wasn't a rare sight, by any means, but it still worried him to see Stone so upset. 

“Hey…you alright, Stone? You seem kinda out of it.” Skipp kept a respectful distance, not knowing if his friend was in a touch-positive mood or not. He extended a hand to silently ask if touch was okay. Stone shrugged, taking a swig from his mystery bottle. 

“Aren’t we all? ‘re we ever really in it, or are we jus’ waitin’ for death to find us and put us in our final place?”

“Uh…okay?” Skipp patted the emotional man’s head before scooting away, going to find Vinnie. She would know what to do…probably.

Vinnie was lounging on one of their make-shift nests when Skipp found her. She groaned, stretching as she sat up from the pile of ratty blankets and coats.

“What is it now? Today’s supposed to be relaxing,” she whined, running a hand through her unruly hair. Skipp pointed to their drunken, miserable-looking friend. “Stone’s in a sad mood again.”

“Fuckin’...course he is. The one damn day we get off…” Vinnie grumbled, dramatically hauling herself completely out of her semi-comfortable nest. “He okay with touch?”

After the blonde nodded, she marched over to Stone, waving for him to do the same. Instead of greeting him, she straddled the dejected man, squeezing his hips.

“GRK- Vihihinnie! W-whahat the hehell?!” Stone dropped his bottle, hands flying to grab Vinnie’s wrists. He was drunk, though, so his fight wasn’t a very effective one.

Skipp blushed, his eyes widening. Vinnie’s fix was…tickling him? The optimistic guy never could handle watching tickle fights without getting flustered, but now…

It looked fun from both perspectives, and Stone was quite upset. He was pretty sure his mind would behave and let him wreck his friend for one.

“Isn’t it obvious? We’re cheering you up!” Even though his cheeks were still rosy, Skipp joined in, spidering his short nails on Stone’s kneecaps. It would almost certainly come back to haunt him later, but he didn’t really mind; that was a sort of bonus.

“Yep. It’s too good of a day for that depressing bullshit. You need to learn how to smile, ya mopey shit.” Vinnie was a bit less sweet, but there was a kindness in her salty words. She really cared for Stone, even if he was a depressing asshole sometimes.

“Guhuhuys! Fuhuck ohohohoff!” Stone squirmed and twisted under Vinnie, feeling the four evil hands on him. He squeezed Vinnie’s wrists, though he wasn’t exactly trying to shove her off. This wasn't lost on his friends.

“Aww, you like this, don’t you?” Surprisingly, Skipp was the one to tease him. It wasn’t exactly meant to be one, but that’s what it felt like to the giggling man. He groaned through the happy sound, covering his face with one hand. 

“Holy shit, Skipp. I think you’re right!” Vinnie chuckled, though she already knew that was the case. It was hardly the first time she’d used the method to get Stone to quit moping, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last. He needed to smile more.

“Wonder what happens if I go here…” Vinnie clawed at the back of Stone’s ribs, making him snort and start cackling. It was his worst spot, and she knew it. “Oh. That. How cute!”

Was that a bit mean? Maybe, yeah, but Stone seemed like he was writing gothic poetry that morning. The shithead needed to laugh that Ramshackle sadness off.

“’M NOHOHOT CUHUTE!” Stone was practically losing it at that point. Skipp had decided to move to the undersides of his knees. That combined with the backs of his ribs was almost more than he could handle. Almost.

“VIHIHINNY! GEHE’ OHOHOHOFF’A THEHEHERE!” Stone writhed, arching his back to try and avoid her fingers. He kicked his legs, but that was pretty much useless when she was on his thighs. Skipp had free reign of his lower body, and Vinnie was practically unstoppable up top.

“But I like it here! You look like Maggot with all that squirming, dude.” She mentioned their angelic friend, trying to get him blushing more. His cheeks were pink, but Vinnie wanted more. She knew how red he could get.

“Oh yeah, he does!” Out of Stone’s view, Skipp giggled, making Stone groan. That little ball of sunshine just had to comment on everything, didn’t he? Stone cared for him, of course; he just wanted to lovingly strangle him sometimes.

“You know what eats maggots, Stone?” He flipped the blonde off, but Skipp didn’t mind. The next few seconds would make up for that. “Jumping spiders!”

Skipp clawed his hands, switching spots every few seconds to spider each area on his legs. It was kinda dumb, but scientifically accurate. That, and it tickled like crazy.

“SKIHIHIHPP! IHIHI- PFFAHAHAHA!” All protests died, swallowed up in loud, throaty cackles. His nerves were practically on fire, his thoughts drowned out by his own laughter. It was finally too much.

“EHEHENOHOUGH!” Stone yelled through his mirth, patting Vinnie’s shoulder. She immediately pulled away, Skipp following suit. Vinnie climbed off, giving him a second. 

Stone immediately curled in on himself, turning into a giggly pill bug as he recovered. “F-fuhuhuck youhu guhuhuhuys…” 

Vinnie chuckled, used to his profanities. She knows they usually mean he had fun, but was still a bit salty. Skipp, however, was concerned they’d crossed a line. “Stone? Did we go too far?”

The man huffed, swallowing another bout of giggles. His composure was mostly back, the thin line of his lips showing a ghost of a smile. “Nah, yohou’re fine. Youhu suck, thohough.”

Rolling her eyes, Vinnie nudged the giggly man’s shoulder. “Ah, whatever. You were being a downer, and you know it.” 

Stone lovingly flipped her off and grumbled something under his breath. Skipp pulled both of them into a hug, and for once, Stone didn’t pull away. He’d never admit it, but the embrace felt nice at that moment.

“C’mon, guys. Let’s enjoy our day off!” Skipp’s attitude remained bright as ever. Stone opened his mouth to argue, but huffed and shook his head. 

“Fine. I’m taking Vinnie’s nest.” Stone sauntered over to the pile of cloth, smirking at Vinnie’s near-instant outrage.

“Hey! Get your own rags, Nevermore!” The two started playfully wrestling, fighting over the nest Skipp knew they’d end up sharing. He leaned against the wall of the slum alley, watching his friends and taking in the happiness they both now felt.

Yep. Perfect Ramshackle day off.

[ohtobeleah]

Need more of Terms of Endearment. Plz and thank xx

Warnings // Rooster x F!Reader. Hangman x Platonic!F!Reader. Mentions of Alcohol consumption and physical assault.

Masterlist

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

“What the hell are you playing at Hangman?” Rooster questioned as he dried his hair roughly with the towel that had recently been tucked around his waist. A fresh pair of jeans now adorning his hips.

“I'm playing matchmaker–” Hangman was quick to respond as he sat the car seat down on the bench in the locker room. Tapping the top of it twice with a shit eating grin. “Fe asked me to drop this off before you go.” Rooster hadn’t even thought about the car seat. God his Bronco was not built to harbour a car seat. “She also told me to tell you that she’ll call when she's leaving the workshop.”

“Id ask if you hit that bird on purpose but I know you wouldn’t be stupid enough to risk ruining a multi million dollar jet on the grounds of setting me up with your roomie.” You and your little girl Dot had been living off base with Jake since you arrived in North Island in the middle of the night, running for what was essentially life or death. You wouldn't have come to Jake if you had any other choice–not one for handouts or charity, so when he was opening his door in the middle of the night, bat in hand because who the fuck was trying to bang his god damn door down in the middle of the fucking night–he was softening instantly.

“I have nowhere else to go–” You sobbed as Jake dropped the bat to the ground just barely missing his own foot. Completely and wholeheartedly accepting you and your crying daughter into his humble abode. He wasn’t blind, nor did he have a deviated septum. He saw the bruises and smelt the absurd amount of liquor on your breath. The way you clung to your daughter like she was your entire word made Jake hold his tongue. Pressing it into the side of his cheek as he let his chin rest on top of your head. It had to have been bad if you drove in the state you were in.

“Uh, I prefer stowaway–actually.” Jake teased as he watched Rooster throw his shirt over his head. “She needed a push—“

“I know what I’m doing man, I don’t need you interfering with my love.” Rooster huffed, he honestly didn’t mind playing the long game with you. He knew winning you over slowly would be worth it in the long run. He wasn’t all that sure of what you had been through—both you and Jake liked to keep that information under lock and key. But Bradley knew, he knew you were worth the wait, the work, the effort it would take to break your walls down brick by brick.

“Your love life is nonexistent Bradshaw I’m doing you a favour here!” Jake was no stranger to bringing home beautiful women, but ever since you and little Dot had been occupying his spare room? He had become more and more selective about the type he brought home. “And honestly, I’m just about sick of having to explain the children’s toys lying around whenever I bring someone home—“

“So this isn’t about Y/n at all then?” Rooster scoffed as he shook his head in utter disbelief. “This is about you wanting her out of your place.” Rooster had never actually strapped an infant's car seat into his car before. Picking up the capsule he marched out of the locker room into the hall, Hangman right on his tail. “I don't know what your thought process is man, but getting me to pick up Dot isn’t gonna have Y/n outta your house any quicker.”

The first time Bradley met you, he'd been tasked with finding out why Hangman was late for work. The cocky fighter pilot with the big ass egomaniacal smile and even bigger shit eating grin was usually if anything early. But the day Bradley first met you? It had been two hours since the first flight and Coyote was about ready to trade out his wingman. Patient had worn very thin. There’d been no calls and texts from Jake, no excuse or reason for his absence.

“Bagman!” Rooster was banging down Jake's front door incessantly. Huffing when there was no response. “Jake man you good?” He never stopped knocking. It’s what had woken you from what felt like your final resting spot on the lounge in the living room. The morning after Jake had taken you in. “SERESIN!” Roosters knuckles didn't meet hardwood when you swung the door open. Almost connecting with your already bruised and battered face as you held the door open.

“Fuck off!” Bradley Bradshaw had never been so taken aback in his life. “Stop knocking its rattling my fucking brain.” Rubbing your eyes as you yawned, stepping back to let whoever it was that wanted your brother so desperately into the house that would soon become a home. “Jakes upstairs–” At the mere mention of his name, Jake Seresin was barreling down the stars still doing up his flight suit. He knew he’d fucked up, but he’d been up with you all night holding your hair out of your face while you cried and threw up the content of your stomach. Dot in his lap crying in hysterics because she hadn’t slept a wink either. He’d only just work up after having slept like a log through his alarm.

“Dude—I’m fucked aren’t I?” Jake groaned as he tried slipping his work issued steel caps on.

“Who's the walking corpse?” Rooster asked as he watched you fall back onto the lounge, your ass on full display for him as you rolled over and pulled up the blanket Jake had given you. You were so plastered that the pain of your hangover hadn’t even set in yet. Jake was right, maybe he should have taken you to get your stomach pumped last night, but he was confident you'd thrown enough up that it wasn't a life threatening amount. “She's wearing your TopGun shirt–” Raising a questioning eyebrow, Rooster turned back to Jake. “You let strays stay the night now do you?”

“She's my sister.” Bradley heard the way Jake said it with a sigh, like he was almost disappointed. Jake could never be disappointed having you as a sister, but he was disappointed in a few of the choices you made that led you to this moment. Hungover, on his lounge with your daughter still asleep upstairs. You hadn’t been coherent enough last night to watch over her. Jake had stepped in. “Shows up on my doorstep last night, believe it or not she was in a worse state than this.”

“And the bruises?”

“Like I said, she showed up on my doorstep last night in a worse state than this.” Jake repeated himself as he held back tears. “I haven't really been able to get much out of her besides vomit.”

“Why haven't you ever told me you have a sister?” Rooster knew it was probably a stupid question to ask as he watched Jake fixed up the blacket that youd thrown harphazardly over yourself. “All this time we've known you and never a peep about a sibling—well, we know you have a brother but—“

“Non-biological.” Was the only answer Jake gave Bradley. “And whatever it is she’s going through it must be bad or else she wouldn’t have shown up here.”

“Yeah but if she’s occupied with you she might not be home all that much and before you know it? She’ll have approval for staff accommodation in no time.” You’d been waiting for a house for you and Odette the second you applied for a job as a technician. Jake had been the one to set you up. Your visit wasn’t meant to be permanent, but it seemed to be the safety and most secure option for you and your daughter.

“And she swears you’re an alright guy?” Rooster groaned as he unlocked his car, opening the passenger side door before placing the capsule inside. “Stay out of my love life—I don’t appreciate the meddling.”

“Fine, but I’m not making any promises to not meddle in Felix’s love life—“ Jake was quick to slightly step Bradley aside as he watched him struggling to connect the capsule car seat. “Here, you gotta loop the straps.” Rooster just stood back and took notes. How many times had Hangman actually done this? “She deserves the world and if I know anyone deserving of her? I’m looking at him.” Rooster just let the compliment Jake had gifted him sink in. Perhaps this wasn’t such a bad thing—maybe Jake was genuinely doing him a solid.

Or maybe Jake Seresin was truly just over the two year old who cock blocked him more than she’d ever know.

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

Odette Dolan was the light of your world. Anyone who knew you knew that you’d set fire to the rain for that little girl. And as Bradley waited at the front counter of Sunny Side preschool and after school care, he understood what that feeling felt like.

“Who are you to little Odette again, Mr. Bradshaw?” One of the early educators asked as she eyes Rooster down. Curious as ever to know who this mystery man was. You’d only ever picked Dot up. Jake had done a few scattered—but it was always you if you could help it.

“Uh—I’m whoever she needs me to be I guess.”

Roosted rubbed the back of his head nervously. “Y/n asked if I could pick her up, I was free—so why not right?” 

“Well, She had a bit of a meltdown just after lunch but since she's woken up from her nap she’s been fine—“ One of the early educators beamed as she signed Rooster in. His palms were sweaty as he rubbed them together. “I already let her know that mummy’s friend Rooster was coming to pick her up today so she didn’t get too disgruntled on pick up.”

“Routines are important, I get it.” Rooster had a soft spot for your daughter. That spot got a whole lot bigger when Dot came flying around the corner with her bag on her back, shoes on the wrong feet and a picture of a stick figure flying a plane that her early educators had helped her draw.

It was Bradley. Her Rooster.

“Hey Dot!” Rooster beamed at the little girl smashing into him as he crouched down to pick her up–swinging her up onto his hip. “Whatcha got there?” Rooster always had the all the time in the world for Odette Dolan. How a single man has so much patience and so much unconditional love for a two year old you'd never understand. But they shared a bond like no other. Jake liked to joke that Rooster and Dot bonded so well because they shared the same mental age, but you knew deep down it was because he saw a little bit of himself in her.

“Wooster–” Your little girl laid her head gently against Rooster's shoulder, her eyelids heavy as he handed him the paper. Another picasso to add to his ever growing collection of fridge drawings. Too sentimental to let fall to the wayside. His heart exploded like new years eve fireworks over Time Square every single time she’d hand him a new artwork dedicated in his honour.

“Oh for me?” Rooster raised his eyebrows in excitement as he took the piece of paper. “Woah! You’re getting so good at these, looks just like me” If Bradley were a few pounds lighter maybe.

“Mama?” Dot questioned as she looked around for where you might be. Holding your daughter a little tighter as Rooster said his thanks to the early educators before venturing outside.

“No bubba, just me—“ When Rooster placed Odette into her car seat, he double then triple checked if everything was secure. “But mama's coming soon.” For a moment Rooster just sat in his car, wondering if he should go back to his or not. Looking over at your daughter as she already started to doze off in her seat, Rooster settled his decisions.

First Stop? The Hard Deck for some take away. Second Stop? Your house, not because he didn’t trust himself to take care of a two year old. But because this specific two year old probably wanted to go home.

And who was Bradley Bradshaw to deny your daughter of anything she wanted?

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Tags: @a-serene-place-to-be @lilyevanswhore @thescarletknight2014

[lavandula-ipsum]

Those Wistful Asphodels

Asphodels ch. 1/2

Tags: dark!Luke x Fem!Reader, force sensitive reader, reader is injured, death of secondary characters mentioned, porn with plot, no really most of this is plot, angst, smut, cuffs, non penetrative sex, handjobs, edging, light degradation

Wordcount: 7.4k

Summary: Since Luke Skywalker fell to the dark side, the Rebellion has been facing a fast annihilation. In these dire times when lights go out in the galaxy one after another, a rebel captain with the mission of rescuing the survivors of a fallen base finds herself injured and alone. And, on top of that, the worst of her temptations appears out of the blue.

Asphodels is a sequel to Pomegranate, a short smut series that has kinda ended up growing a plot. I do think you can enjoy this part without the previous one, since you can infer enough of their dynamic from context. Feel free to check the previous chapters if you feel like it!

WARNING (or the opposite to it?) Even though this is a dark Luke fic, all that happens during the more intimate scenes is completely consensual. Still, Reader isn't in a good place mentally, hence the angst tag. I wanted to make it clear, there's nothing dubious here in that regard.

Enjoy!

The Empire has a new face, one that has brought unprecedented darkness to the galaxy. All kinds of stories have popped up around the new royal core of the regime. From the old throne of the Emperor now rules he who was his loyal shadow, his most deadly hand. And at his side stands a son. Their combined strength has turned the war into a fixed hunt, a pitiful game in which the Rebel Alliance can't but wriggle like a doomed scurrier in a trap.

Some, those who were labeled as hopeless pessimists, would say it all ended the very same day of the betrayal. After all, the Rebellion could stand to lose a commander, no matter how invaluable the feats achieved by Luke Skywalker were. But it was a blow nonetheless. Right after the news came out countless rebels fled their posts trying to save their lives, but it was for nothing. Nowadays even deflectors get mercilessly hunted down by the Empire. Like marked by a curse, every single person who ever belonged to the Rebellion, or even just sympathized with it, gets found. No tiny spark of resistance escapes, lest it ignite new fires of rebellion in the future. Even those who were hopeful at first seriously doubt that prospect a little more every day with each new of lost squadrons and assassinated leaders. 

General Organa remains as one of the last remnants of light in these dark days, even though she’s faded into obscurity. Her whereabouts are kept a secret, much to her own distaste. But it isn’t the time for her to come out at the front of some suicidal attack, it’s the time for caution. To hide and prepare. Fate has taken down yet another path she didn’t want for herself, but also one she’s starting to dread to be unfit for this time.

And meanwhile, (Y/N) wonders how long will it take for the idea that the Rebellion has disappeared to settle. The rebel captain isn’t one to express out loud how hopeless she’s become, not in front of her dwindling companions. But there is not denying it. Rogue squadron is no more. It lasted longer than the others even when it became the most sought after by unrelenting TIE squadrons. (Y/N) knows who leads that imperial offensive, it’s written in the precise counter attacks that always surprise the rebel pilots  in all of their maneuvers, every evasion. There is only one person who knows them that well, just one pilot with that kind of talent. (Y/N) gets sick just thinking of his hand on the trigger, the aim set on another friend. No matter what the rebels try, they’re doomed to fail. Recently she got the news that the last one of the once acclaimed X-wings was shot down. Kriff, not even Wedge made it. She can just cross her fingers and hope that the Millennium Falcon, the most wanted starship in the galaxy, will remain hidden for a little longer.

Even Han has given up all hope. The captain of the Falcon was never a man of faith, but (Y/N) trusts his resolve to help keep alive those few of them who still survive, scattered across the stars. It’s all she has left now, especially when she’s starting to suspect that she won’t be coming back from this mission.

It was her who insisted on making the effort to come here with the mission to establish contact with the rebel cell hiding in the base of Jolah after it went silent. It was her assignment and it has failed even more spectacularly than anyone could have expected. The ambush hit them as soon as they came out of hyperspace to a system crawling with squadrons of TIE fighters and imperial patrols. In the unexpected dogfight, (Y/N)’s starfighter got hit and her pitiful role in the operation suddenly evaporated as she was reduced to managing the crashing of her craft in the middle of the sadistic fireworks around her, fighting the controls to make an emergency landing on the surface of Jolah. Each vertiginous spin separates further away from her companions while they fall to the imperial cannons.

Her damaged X-wing crashes in the middle of lush woodlands, up in the mountains. She hurries to leave the cockpit, fearful because of the black smoke coming out of the engines that the craft might explode. A sharp pain paralyzes her as she reaches for the edge to prop herself up. Even though she can’t move her leg, suddenly heavy and uncooperative, she still tries to get down the ship, slipping when her limbs clumsily let go of her commands. Hitting the ground brings her all the pain she’s been unable to feel until now. This is when she finally sees a piece of a durasteel lever buried deep in her thigh. 

The stranded captain huffs, turning her gaze up to the barely visible battle going on just over the atmosphere. She’s far from a military genius, but she can see that it’s over for her squadron. Even calling it a battle is generous when they were trapped so quickly, like helpless flies.

But she can’t just sit here and contemplate the butchery from afar, there’s no time to despair in the middle of nowhere. Even in this thick forest the Empire will find her vessel soon, so she better put some distance between it and herself. So she just grabs the end of the lever lodged in her leg and pulls, white pain burning through all of her senses while biting on the edge of her glove to try to drown her screams a little. A shriek escapes her when the durasteel finally flies out of her flesh. Thick blood gushes out until she puts pressure on the wound, bandaging it as best as she can with the sleeve she just tore from her shirt. 

Walking will be difficult, but she can’t do much else other than start dragging her aching limbs through the mud and the pain. The feeling that she might faint soon only grows, blood drenching through her poor attempt at a bandage and dripping down her thigh. The beauty around, threads of light cutting through the trees lighting up a forest floor splattered with little white flowers, all seem to be mocking her. At least she finds a fallen branch she can use as a walking stick. However, the sounds of the search party, the buzzing of speeders echoing through the trees, keep her awake and moving. 

Daylight fades along with the signs of imps in the area. It seems she’s safe for now, but she still doesn’t dare to stop for the rest she so direly needs, since she can’t trust herself to not fall asleep. At least her present predicament is easy enough to understand. Imperials running after her life while she bleeds alone in the cold with nothing but a blaster to protect herself. Those are circumstances that make her forgotten rebel resolve bloom again. The dream might be dead but, this way, at least she gets to die a rebel.

(Y/N) keeps avoiding the distant speeders, wondering how long before she’s found. Her fingers have lost sensitivity due to the biting cold, which she takes advantage of to keep dragging herself forward until she’s alone with the faint echoes of birds and the occasional critter running to hide. And, for the first time in months, she lets her sore mind loosen down a little to graze the currents of the Force she’s been fearfully avoiding. 

At least I get to die a rebel.

She expected the sensation of opening her mind to be uncomfortable, even painful, but the Force takes her right back, as if she never closed herself off from it. Even if she’s forgotten herself, the Force hasn’t. 

Who knows, maybe it’s because of all the blood she’s lost, but she’s never felt closer to its embrace. Ah, it’s all almost over.  

Mixed in with the cool currents filling the dried river beds of her mind another flow enters. Her eyes fly open at the realization of what she inadvertently has done. A single tear falls down her cheek as she scrambles to rebuild the barriers that she so irresponsibly let down. In hiding her signature, her brain complains of being denied from the full expanse of Force once again. The trance she was falling in insists on lingering inside of her as she fights to wake up from it. She was ready to let herself fall in the arms of the Force at that time when she’d close her eyes for good to let herself go in peace.

But it is too late now. He has seen her.

There’s no denying his intoxicating presence, a warmth dueling the cold of the forest and looming death inside of her, getting closer by the second. But how? He isn’t supposed to be in the system. His presence pokes at hers, impatience domineering over any intention at gentleness. Where are you? echoes in her brain, like pliers forcing her mind open. 

The rebel huffs and whimpers when she hears the TIE fighter over her head, its buzzing fading as the darkness throbbing at the corners of her vision expands. Desperation alone is keeping her standing, but she has stopped running now. This is as far as she was able to go.

She doesn’t need to turn around to feel the man wrapped in a black cloak right behind her, or his rushed breath as he quickly approaches, or the bursting heart in his chest. 

At least I get to die a rebel, she repeats.

In spite of his speed, his steps barely make a sound on the mud, but each of them is a jab inside of (Y/N). A shiver runs down her back thinking how all the times she’s tried to prepare herself for this have been useless. She isn’t ready to face him again and, most of all, she hates that he finds her like this, unarmed and defenseless, on the verge of passing out.

For a second, her mind gives out and everything turns dark. Cold climbs into her as she collapses forward, only for her fall to be stopped mid air. Her walking stick drops with a soft splash on the puddle before her, and suddenly she can hear the clatter of rain. For how long has it been raining? While she scolds herself for letting the panic wash over the awareness of her surroundings, her attention focuses on the arm holding her by the waist, then to the silhouette towering over her. Another reason to be disappointed with herself. She’d expected to be terrified by this encounter but, instead, under the hood, she finds a sad gaze she can’t bring herself to hate. 

Her blood drips over the little white flowers growing on the ground, defiling them with dark spots.

The longer she stares into the icy blue more memories flood her good conscience. The first time she saw him in that hangar so long ago, when she mistook him for a mechanic, it was him who looked helpless and alone.

I’m sorry it took so long to tell you, he said the last time they spoke.

Ashamed, she tries waving her childish longings away, afraid to know if they are still shared, and fights to stand up on her own. But her leg screams in pain and buckles, her body betraying her resolve by letting out a pained moan. His arms support her through it all. 

“Are you handcuffing me before I bleed to death or shall we wait some more?” she hisses.

She holds a red hand in front of her face and curses under her breath, which prompts a flare of alarm in his aura as he examines her. Judging by her darkened, drenched clothes, it’s a miracle that she hasn’t lost consciousness yet.

“Who did this to you?” It must be the blood loss, but Luke’s presence didn’t feel fully real before hearing his voice. She has always been afraid of his anger because of the choice that came with each one of those scarlet flares, even if they’ve never been directed at her. But that stopped mattering long ago.

Little raindrops run down his dark hood, dripping over the edge. She fights the urge to fix his hair with her fingers. She offers a bitter answer instead. “What do you think? One of your friends, like the ones waiting behind those bushes.”

“I’m alone.”

“I don’t believe you,” she spits. Lately, being lied to feels more comfortable than the alternative when it comes to him. Luke seems saddened by the comment.

“You need to have that looked at. Where is your lightsaber?”

She isn’t willing to answer either of those questions. Instead, his grip tightens around her. Ah, he’s so warm. She yearns to fall asleep in his arms.

She’s so submerged in his signature that she doesn’t notice the movements around them until a branch cracks not far from them. (Y/N) takes advantage of the split second of distraction to reach for his lightsaber. This is it, the moment she's been dreading. She didn't want to do this, she really didn't. But her desires are meaningless now. If she's to fall defending her companions, she will. Luke gazes at her with a mix of surprise and betrayal, but stays still. From the bushes emerges a group of rebels armed with blasters and fiery eyes sunken in their dirty faces. But there’s something wrong. They’re little more than children.

(Y/N) has found the rebel survivors of Jolah at the worst time possible. The act of tearing herself away from Luke’s arms cost her every drop of will she has left, but she manages to strike what must be a very unconvincing defensive stance. Even if she was ready to give up the fight a moment ago, now she owes it to these people. 

His first reaction is to extend a protective arm in front of her, a gesture that the rebels interpret as an attempt to leverage a prisoner to try and escape the situation. She feels the needle sink painfully into his mind as he realizes they want to protect her from him. 

“Release her, you imp. You're surrounded.”

She can feel the shadows leave her surroundings, leaving behind a pale reflection of the forest, of the kids’ angry and scared faces circling in around them. That darkness gathers into the young man's palms, dancing across his fingers with whispers of destruction. And (Y/N) fears, ready to jump into action down a path she’s been running from. 

After a moment to carefully consider the situation, Luke slowly raises his hands. “It seems I'm outnumbered,” he declares calmly.

The rebel captain is still processing what he just said when he offers up his wrists to his new captors. Soon they’re bound in a pair of stun cuffs. It seems it won’t be her wearing them for now.

****

(Y/N) doesn’t remember when she finally collapsed. Maybe the feeling of being surrounded by allies allowed her body to give out, or the vision of Luke being taken flooded her with that impotence she’s become so familiar with. But the first thought that bubbles up as she recovers consciousness is that she doesn’t think those kids ever let her hit the ground.

When she wakes a gentle fire fills the chamber with orange light. The cool sky of a darkening evening at the other side of the narrow crevice in the rock wall reveals that she’s been asleep for at least a whole day. The chamber around her belongs to a humble abode built under rock, rough but cozy. The smell of the herbs hanging from the ceiling fills the room made up of only crooked lines and handmade furniture. Over the fire, a pot simmers.

Her injuries have finally been stitched bandaged properly, and a strong, earthy smell comes out of them. She doesn’t know what kind of medicine they’ve used on her, but she doesn’t feel the need to distrust it. Her flight suit hangs close to the fire, left to dry, though it still has some faint stains of blood. She's been dressed with a comfortable tunic, long down to her ankles, which her injured thigh is thankful for.

“You’re lucky to be alive,” a raspy voice says. An old man just comes through the door, an axe resting on his shoulder. “You almost bled to death. Does it hurt? 

“Less than before.”

He hums approvingly and, leaving the axe resting against the irregular wall, sits by the fire on one of the mismatched chairs. “Calm down, lass. Anyone that still has the guts to face those pigs is welcome in my home.”

She realizes now that her whole body has tensed up. The thought crosses her mind that the old man, even if he seems fit for his age, wouldn’t probably mean a concerning threat to her now that he’s unarmed. It disgusts her. He saved her life and she can’t bring herself to trust even a little. Then again, she can’t sense any ill intention radiating from him. Trusting the Force has not been an easy task in recent times, but she’s too weak now not to listen to it. 

“I thank you for your help, sir.”

“Imoviah. None of that sir nonsense. Tell me, what happened to you? I’m dying for some good gossip. It’s been ages without news other than that bantha poodoo propaganda they feed the local stations around here. We didn’t know about the battle until it was raging over our heads”

“The base on the moon of Jolah was blown up three weeks ago,” she explains, pointing at the pale satellite hanging in the sky. “A small squad was sent to look for surviving rebels, but we had a trap waiting for us. We were following rumors that spoke about some of the survivors making it to the surface of the planet, but nothing sure.”

“So finally someone came looking for it.”

The face of a scruffy child, with tattered clothes and dirt on his face, pokes shyly through the entrance before coming in. He exchanges a few whispers with the old man and, now that she gets to look at him under the light of the flames, she recognizes him.

“Ab?” she asks. “You’re Elise’s kid, right? Your mom is a mechanic in the Rebellion.”

The kid just nods sheepishly just before the old man slaps his knees and gets up.

“I’m afraid that the ones that made it here are just those who couldn’t fight.  Those up there in the base got them out trying not to get the Empire’s attention.”

“And they didn’t run themselves?”

The old man gives her a knowing stare, “Things are not what they were. This isn’t a war anymore. Come, I’ll show you the rest.”

After finding a walking stick for her, Imoviah guides her through dark tunnels carved in the rock, little Ab holding his hand. As they get deeper, (Y/N) can feel more and more pairs of eyes fixed on her from the shadows. Their fear reaches her through the Force. This is the last shelter for the Rebellion left in the Jolah system, keeping those who were left behind safely hidden in these dark and humid passages. Here survive the children of her companions, most of them fallen now, and a few rebels that were too severely injured to flee or fight, all trapped and surrounded by the enemy, their lives depending on the secret of their existence.

And she’s brought the enemy right into their last refuge.

These old passageways have become their fortress. (Y/N) is received as a hero, the first good news in way too long. She’s warned not to venture far on her own, since they don’t know how far the tunnels go or what dangers might she fall into. The adults keep the living area clean and safe for a functioning community of around sixty people, but there are strict rules not to wander, since those who get lost don’t usually come back. The oldest among those who can still fight, mostly between thirteen and sixteen, have stepped up to lead the group. Roles are carefully distributed, since their survival depends on all of them doing their job right. They live off whatever the forest can provide and the help of some sympathizers living in the town half a day away. But Imoviah, a local who’s lived in these woods all his life brewing ardees, is the only one who knows exactly the location of their hiding spot, since he comes and goes on supply runs. 

The competence the kids display saddens her. The war of their parents has made soldiers out of them. 

(Y/N) is glad that the chance to rest her injuries for a bit came while she was unconscious, or she would’ve had trouble hiding from them like a moody teenager. She feels bad for wanting to be left alone, but each of their constant questions poke at her heart. What battles she’s fought, what heroes she knew. The rebel came to Jolah on a mission to evacuate them, but after the attack that took her companion’s lives she doesn’t have any resources to do so. If she doesn’t figure it out, they’re all lost. They can’t keep hiding forever, since it’s only a matter of time before the Empire finds them, and that’s just they haven’t been found already. 

Her senses timidly tread down the corridors, to where the prisoner is being kept. She doesn't feel strong enough to face him yet, so she can just wonder what kind of trick Luke is trying to pull by surrendering himself.

So she lets her allies show her around and feed her while she yearns for the moment she can finally be excused. Of course, after she goes to rest that night, nightmares don’t take long to wake her. She’s used to it by now so, knowing that she won’t be able to fall asleep for a few hours, she decides to walk the scare off and maybe relieve whomever happens to be on watch duty.

However, as soon as she steps out of the chamber she was sleeping in, a cool gust hits her face. The whisper of a voice follows right after, faintly calling. Can it really be her name? She chases after the exhalation through the passages in the dark, enthralled by a strange tingling sensation in the back of her head.

Then she wakes up in an unfamiliar place. Stars flicker above her head, and the cold air hits her face. She’s outside. The instinct to flee back to safety kicks in, but she can’t help notice the concentric circles carved on the floor, lighting up with a bluish glow that turns brighter with the vibrations in her aura getting stronger. As she tries to put a finger on where she has seen the carved patterns before, the lights continue to vibrate in tune with her own signature. She’s no doubt standing in a sanctuary.The symbols climb up to some sort of table, perhaps even an altar, made out of the same rock. She is known by this place, though she doesn’t remember ever being to somewhere so strong in the Force. It feels like she could reach with her hand and touch it.  The swaying of its currents invites her to stay, promising healing and peace. Oh, how dearly she has missed the light, unambiguous and true. She lets the nostalgia wash over her, one that doesn’t belong to her, a gaze turned to years past before this place was abandoned and forgotten. 

However, she isn’t a stranger to those feelings of loss that fill the carved terrace. Where she once held hope, now she grieves for the loss of her comrades and the future that should have been, one where Jedi would rediscover this place. Now that will never happen, and she can’t help the feeling that she has a hand in the erasure of their kind. Not long ago, she still dreamt of being knighted someday, but that path has disappeared forever. The Jedi are dead.

A dreadful realization creeps over her. She hasn’t just led the enemy into a rebel base, but also into a Jedi sanctuary. It seems to have been built on top of the rocky formation under which the tunnels hide, on a high spot unreachable from the outside. It has probably been thanks to its benevolent influence that the refugees have managed to remain hidden but now, because of her, this sacred place won’t be able to protect them anymore.

She runs down the stairs, back to the darkness, flooded by the guilty need to do something.

***

The guard she finds watching over the heavy door of the cell, a teenager holding a blaster awkwardly, insists that she should go back to rest, but she ignores the warning. She needs to talk to the prisoner, for unselfish reasons this time. 

“Go take a walk, will you?” she tells him.

On the way here she’s been forming the idea that maybe she’ll be able to exchange her precious hostage for safe passage out of the planet, at least for those hiding in the tunnels. Suddenly, these children might stand a chance. And maybe she won’t be responsible for their capture.

However, as soon as she steps into the dungeon she’s shaken by her own body’s betrayal, choosing now of all times to remind her of that embrace from earlier that afternoon. Luke’s warmth hasn’t left her yet, nor the memory of his cloak shielding her from the rain with the promise of more to be found under those layers of black robes. It brings a displeased sigh to her lips.

As the heavy door closes behind her, the rebel finds her prisoner standing next to the tiny opening in the wall that serves as a window, his expectant expression immediately turned to her. Those stubborn wildflowers have made their way down there, their pure white heads shyly poking through the opening in the rock. Instinctively, Luke steps towards her, but quickly reminds himself to stop in his tracks. Good. She finds a twisted pleasure in making him wait and wonder, reveling in the agitation of his contradicting thoughts. It makes her feel a little less alone in her uncertainty. After they’re finally alone behind a locked gate she takes her time to sit on a stool, to try and get comfortable in spite of her injured leg, all while avoiding his gaze. She doesn’t know where to start. 

“What are you trying?” At her question, Luke opens his mouth to talk, but interrupts himself. (Y/N) groans. “We both know it’s not a great military strategy to go after an enemy on your own and let yourself be captured by a bunch of children.”

“I had to see you.”

“Why?”

“You know why.”

Again, doubt. She waves away the whispers of the Force, too angry to listen to his emotions reaching her.

“Actually, no, I don’t. I don’t know about you, but I’ve been a little busy trying not to get killed by your people. Forgive me if I haven’t been considering your feelings while I saw my friends die and starve in the mud. Tell me, how long before your hounds come for these children? Are you gonna kill them? Or do you prefer washing their brains to turn them into soldiers that would go murder their own parents and everything they fight for? The ones you haven't orphaned already, that is.”

In the middle of those accusations, he flinches. One of them makes him angry, then that initial jab turns to a deeper pain. She doesn’t even care which one did it.

“I came here on my own, I swear. No one else knows.”

“Save your promises. I’ve seen how you keep them.”

“I’ve never lied to you,” he insists, his exasperation growing.

“Oh, no, of course not. You’re a saint. I remember you said that, next time we crossed paths, I’d get the rebel treatment.”

Luke raises his bound wrists, like that’s enough of an answer. “Isn’t that what you’re doing? Playing the rebel part?” She scoffs, but he’s not done. “Listen, I understand why you’re doing this. But I hoped you’d realize-” he interrupts himself again.

“What?”

Luke swallows thickly, fearing the storm he’s about to summon. “That this isn’t helping anyone. If you just took the help that’s being offered to you…”

“I can manage perfectly on my own, thank you,“ she spits.

“I see how well that’s working out for you.”

His petulant tone makes (Y/N) stand up from her seat with just the strength of her rage, ignoring the painful flare that runs down her leg. “Listen carefully. You’re free to come fight me, imprison me, even try to kill me and it would all be fair. That's what I get for getting into a war. But I won’t hear this talk about how much I need your protection or pity. You don’t get to disrespect me like that.”

Luke clenches his jaw and just stares at her, visibly holding his tongue. There it is again, the darkness congregating in his hands, making his blood pump with wrath. How far does she have to push before he gives in to it?

“And it tears me apart that you'd treat me as your pet,” she spits, more sincere than she’d like.

Because she would crumble down if she looked away, she bravely maintains contact with his unbearable gaze, seeing in it how he considers making her do what he wants. A rotten part of her wishes to see him try, shattering  in the process all remains of tenderness they might still harbor for each other. And even though it inspires genuine horror in her, her anger makes her swallow it up whole. It’s all because of this dark thread buried deep in her chest, pulling out towards him. Until now, she’s been able to drown that pull as background noise as she carried out her duties, but now that Luke is this close it’s brutal. Like a black hole, deep inside she wants to give into the attraction and disappear in his shadow.

And then she realizes she has stood up. She feels like a fool, standing confused and defensive in the middle of the room, her chest pounding furious as if she just climbed up a mountain. The rebel stares at him up and down as she sits again, breathless. 

“Stop.”

“I’m not doing anything. It’s all you.”

She stares at the floor, shaken by shame. After all the work of hardening her heart, of convincing herself that she hated him, she feels herself slip down again. Luke's voice is but a mere whisper, like he's talking to himself. 

“You can’t lie to me either, can you?”

“It’s just…” As her mental shields come down she can’t help feeling like a lost child. “I didn’t expect this to be so cold.” 

Instantly, Luke has come to kneel before her, eyes raised up to her with a question. It makes it so easy for her to reach for his left hand to softly rest the back against her cheek. Gently melting into each other’s space, she curses herself for letting him in her mind, for having let things go so far in the first place. 

“I bet you regret not killing me when you had the chance,” she says, unsure of why she expects him to laugh. Maybe because it would be easier to stomach than seeing him tilt his head, between horrified and exhausted, and answer earnestly.

“I’m not giving you up. I tried to deny it too at first, before I knew that you felt the same way.”

Luke’s signature wraps around her like a lover’s caress, welding itself with hers perfectly as he delves deeper into her open defenses. It is the warmth, the sweet warmth she has missed, that eases the many loads she’s been carrying on her own. The rebel presses a kiss on his knuckles.

“I hate you.”

Luke offers a soft grin in response, knowing she can pile that on top of all of the other messed up feelings she holds for him. He’s so willing to take them all. “I probably deserve it.”

The one that weighs more now, though, is the void of his absence finally filled again. Her tears for it dried so much suffering ago. His bound hands trace up the shapes of her neck, a reminder that this weakness is shared. She tastes this irresponsible consolation for her sins as her fingers delve into his hair. One defeat after another, loss after loss, (Y/N) has grown small and spent, too tainted with hatred to try and bring him back. She has filled all the time away from him with a half hearted search for hope, and she hasn’t found it.

His breath on her throat relieves her cold skin.

“What are we going to do?” 

“You talk as if there was an option we weren’t to regret.”

“Is that what you want? Something regrettable?” Luke offers, his closeness alluring as she grabs the collar of his tabard and brings him closer. However, they only dare allow their lips to brush lightly in passing. “We could escape from everything. Disappear to some remote place where no one knows who we are.”

“We both know we won’t do that,” she chuckles. A slight smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

“Seeing you consider it for a second was nice, though.”

What’s out there still finds the way to invade their intimacy, much to (Y/N)’s growing feelings of dread. “I can either be a good rebel and take you prisoner or fuck you and go on pretending nothing happened afterwards. Not both. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m in a bit of a predicament at the moment.”

Even now, she finds herself playing the twisted game of seeing how far she can take him, maybe in the hopes of finding something ugly to punish herself with. Instead, Luke opens up to her. 

"Alright. Use me then.” Luke lets out a brief laugh, though a certain bitterness can be felt through it, as if even he resents his own impulsive streak. “Ask for any ransom you want and you will have it."

"Like I'd trust the Empire."

"You wouldn't have to. You'll use my personal code to talk directly to the person you need.”

(Y/N) stands up from her seat, too exhausted to feign dismay, and takes clunky steps around the room. She really hadn’t woken up contemplating that she’d be ending her day with a chat with Vader. Luke stays down, next to the stool, as if he didn’t have the upper hand in this in spite of being captive.

“Same issue.”

“Whatever I promise to you, he will honor it. I swear.” Heavens, he’s a brat. “I get it, you loathe the idea. But I also might be getting a feeling that you have some urgent demands.”

“What do you want in exchange?”

“The Jedi sanctuary.”

Her jaw tightens. “Not really mine to give away, is it?”

“Then it won’t hurt, will it?” Her nostrils flare at the comment, but she keeps silent. Even if she doesn’t fully comprehend its importance, she’s not keen on the idea of letting this sacred place be potentially defiled. However, it’s true that she really doesn’t have much of a choice. 

“There’s something else I want,” he continues.

“Spit it out.”

“I just want you to answer some questions.” Her eyes narrow. That is too vague and she has too many secrets she’s not willing to give away. “Don’t worry, they won’t endanger anyone’s life.”

The rebel snaps her tongue and shifts in her seat. But nods. “Alright. You’ll have them answered.”

Well, as much as she hates the situation, maybe she has the chance to take this to good port. Do something good. Hell, she can’t remember the last time she thought of herself as a good person, back when she was so eager to struggle for reasons she can’t even remember anymore. Acting in hopes of making her dead master proud, like he could see her, feel foolish now. However, there’s one thing she misses from her past righteous little self, and that’s knowing how to fight. Yeah, perhaps she was too hard on herself back then. Maybe she was good. However, that illusion fades as she voices this one command.

"Put your hands against the wall.” This is far from wise and she hates herself for it. However, her common sense has been taken captive by the lovely confusion blooming on Luke’s face. “You can either do it or wait for me to change my mind."

That candid expression she’d missed so much in him dissolves into a bratty smirk. "Yes, ma'am."

She doesn’t appreciate the attitude, not when she’s this angry. There’s a second when he’s with his back turned to her, handcuffed wrists against the wall of the cell, that she considers listening to reason and leaving. Instead, the challenge becomes appetizing. Afraid to let her doubt be read, she steps closer. Luke inhales sharply as she reaches around and, carefully at first, palms over his trousers. She quickly finds what she’s come looking for. 

“Is this your usual reaction whenever you come chasing after me? No wonder you put so much effort in hunting me down.” 

Luke shudders when she presses on his erection more boldly this time, revealing the prolonged aching he’s been hiding. Exactly what she needs to hastily undo the fastenings, eager to make most of the little time they might have for this. The rebel lightly rakes down the soft, light brunette hairs of his happy trail, making him sigh. Satisfied with her first little incursion and desirous for another one, she gives a generous lick to her palm before sliding it into his pants, while her other hand tugs down on the waistband of his underwear before digging her fingers into his hip. She rubs wet circles around the sensitive head of his cock, already painfully swollen and pink, and takes delight in the soft whimper she gets in response to her slightly aggressive and sudden attentions. But she decides to be merciful and softens the touch with the first stroke down the full length. She intends for this to be quick but she still wants to enjoy it a little.

“Here I come to talk business while your thoughts drift somewhere else entirely,” she teases. Luke hums something that’s meant to sound like an apology. It succeeds at softening her tone. “Don’t worry about it, I got you. Next time, just ask.”

While he leans against the wall, he can get a good view of everything she’s doing. It’s only fair, since she loves to watch his enthralled face progressively let go of that put together facade he exhibited at first, the red deepening across his cheeks and his eyes brimming with filthy pleas, like he doesn’t believe this is happening to him.

Suddenly, a gloved hand grabs her collar and brings her up, her back hitting the wall. Before she can protest her lips are captured in his, needy and warm and sloppy, as his palms cup her cheeks, one burning hot and the other cool leather.

“Please, love. Faster,” Luke begs through the tiny gap he allows, making the grip between her legs tighten around nothing. The mere touch of her own clothes there has her already burning for more. The rebel melts at the sight of need painted in the glossy eyes of her enemy, at being held so sweetly after so long, and realizes that she can’t get angry at him. 

“That’s it. Ask me anything,” as she happily complies, her hand dancing with soft movements of his hips, a low moan forms from the back of his throat. “I can’t get enough of your pretty face when you do.” 

Whispering more praise, she covers Luke’s throat with open kisses. Her free hand climbs up his torso, hard fingers tracing the toned shapes under the black robes. Upon reaching his chest she pinches and twists slightly, stealing a surprised whimper that tells her that she's succeeded at finding a nipple 

Suddenly, rustling on the other side of the door freezes them both in place. Her hand suddenly stops, but she keeps it tightly wrapped around him.

“(Y/N),” Imoviah calls, “are you alright in there?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” (Y/N) answers, enjoying the sudden shame spreading all over her lover’s face. “Negotiations are going well.”

“Are you sure you don’t need any help?”

Luke’s hips start rolling with short, irregular movements. He’s tried, but he can’t help himself any longer. She covers his mouth and gives his dick a light squeeze and twist that brings out a delicious, hot moan to be muffled against her palm.

“Not for now. The prisoner has proven to be quite cooperative.”

“Alright, then. Give me a holler if you need anything.”

“Thank you, Imoviah. I’ll be with you shortly” 

As the steps walk away, she slowly resumes her thrusts, slightly opening the fingers over Luke’s mouth to trace over his lips. Not before long, he’s sucking on them. 

“Suddenly worried about your reputation? That's cute.”

He just whines through her fingers, a glint of hurt pride in his teary eyes. Slowly, his hands descend from the wall to sweetly stroke down her face, down her throat. However, as soon as they reach her collar, a violent flare of fear blares inside her brain, bouncing through every corner that makes her abruptly grab his bound wrists and return them to their original position, over her head and against the wall.

Luke calls her name with visible concern, but before he can voice it she grabs the back of his hair and increases the pace until he’s out of breath and out of words. And she’s not done yet, because then she retreats her hand so she gets to watch him grow desperate, throbbing miserably, shameful pleas molten into incoherent whining.

“See? You know how to behave.” Finally, she decides it’s time to reward him with more stimulation, swirling the precum around his pink head with thorough fingers before resuming the long awaited strokes. “I’m so in love with your cock.”

The answer is little more than a sighed strain of clumsy thank yous. Pleased with how cute he’s become from just fucking her hand, she brings him closer now, and allows him to rest his head in the crook of her shoulder. No one knows, not a single soul, that the deadliest man alive becomes a squirming mess both when he’s touched and when he isn’t. Her hand answers to his desperate motions with the fast pace he’s begging for, set on bringing him over the edge this time. While words seem to be escaping Luke right now, the soft whimpers in her ear confess how close he is, how hopelessly he craves for his own undoing by her hand.

However, her attentions are suddenly interrupted by the sound of steps outside the cell again. They’re faster this time, with a sense of urgency to them.

“Miss,” the guard, again. “It’s the Imps! They’re scouting the area. They haven’t found any of the entrances yet, but there’s talk of running away.”

“No, that would be more dangerous. Round everyone inside. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Luke drowns a frustrated whine in her shoulder. The rebel turns her head back to the man panting against her neck, and gently runs a hand through his hair.

“You gotta go,” he groans.

“Luke…”

“It’s fine, really. Go,” he insists, gently pushing her hands away. The pain travels through their bond to her in the form of an unbearable thirst, as if it wasn’t perfectly visible to her already. She’d hate leaving him like this, so he distracts her with a hasty, breathless kiss. “There’s no time now, sweetheart. You gotta run or you’re gonna regret it. And be sure to bring my comlink, quick.”

[thewulf]

Take a Risk || Pete "Maverick" Mitchell

Summary: You thought you knew how to handle the Top Gun boys. That was until Pete showed up rocking your world. Your simple life as a plane mechanic was coming to an abrupt halt once he entered your hangar.

A/N: Who doesn't love a good Top Gun 1986 Mav??

Pairing: Young Pete "Maverick"Mitchell x Y/N

Word Count: 6,700+

It was a sticky sweet summer morning on North Beach in Miramar, San Diego. Even with your hair tightly slicked back in a knotted bun you couldn’t stop the sweat from dripping down your back as you picked up a wrench from your toolbox. Cursing the Navy for making you wear such thick flight suits as a mechanic you subtly unzipped the top to get some air. You were wearing a tank top anyway.

You turned back to the F-14 you were working on as you read the paperwork on its issues. Lieutenant Pete Mitchell dropped it off yesterday complaining about a weird noise in the left engine when he banked right. You were pretty sure you knew what the problem was. A snapped bolt that seemed to be a common service problem on these planes.

Smiling to yourself when you found the cause of the planes problems you quickly drilled the bolt out replacing it with a larger sturdier one. You fired up the engine making sure that the bold didn’t interfere with anything. When you were satisfied with your work you hopped out of the cockpit and scribbled what you did on the paperwork. Making detailed notes about the sheered bolt.

However, what you didn’t like was the bent frame. Taking a few measurements, you frowned finding the entire wing bending at the wrong angle, a potential terminal angle. After making a few calls you found a repair solution, albeit a lengthy one.

“She’s a beauty isn’t she.” A booming voice took you out of the task you were laser focused on.

Pulling your body out of one of the turbines you snapped your head around spotting the culprit. A handsome, albeit likely cocky as hell, pilot eyed you as you turned towards him. Body still sitting in the turbine you eyed him curiously. It wasn’t often you got any visitors, let alone a pilot, all the way back in the maintenance hangar tucked in the corner of the air base.

“I’ve seen prettier.” Smiling as sweetly as you could you placed your hands on your lap continuing to observe him. You knew the type. Almost all of the naval aviators that came through Top Gun were more arrogant than any civilian man you’d ever meet. Often giving you shit for being their mechanic since you were a woman you opted to simply work in peace in the corner. Out of sight, out of mind.

Feigning hurt the pilot walked closer to you, “You wound me. That’s my pride and joy right there.”

“Try and treat her more kindly then.” Countering, you smirked at the man as you tapped on the inside of the turbine with your wrench, “Her frame is a little fucked.”

“You don’t break barriers if you don’t push them.” He winked clearly waiting on you to join him on the ground.

He was just the type. Rolling your eyes you turned back towards the engine, deciding to ignore him, “Not if you end up snapping it in the air.”

He laughed irking you even further, “You don’t know what I can do in the air.”

“Well,” You dropped the wrench again, the guy clearly wasn’t getting the hint, “I’m certain you can’t defeat physics.”

“You’d be surprised.”

Frustrated you simply ignored the arrogant pilot. You found it was the easiest way to deal with these personalities, simply ignore them and give them nothing.

For a brief moment you forgot he was beneath you as you refocused in on what you were working on. Grabbing your power tools, you unbolted a few panels that needed to be replaced, he had begun to warp the damn frame on the plane. It wasn’t often that you had come across this severe of warpage at a training facility. Sure, when you were working on carriers and planes were coming back from missions you would likely see this damage, when pilots were in life and death situations. Yet this yahoo was doing it at Top Gun.

You tossed the panels down as you normally would hearing the smack of the metal panel hitting the concrete.

“That’s a little loud.” You heard his annoying voice come from below you again.

“It is.” You agreed pulling out a few broken bolts.

“Do you mind?”

The audacity. The sheer audacity of this damn pilot coming into your home and asking you to change the way you do things, “I do.” You threw the last panel maybe a little too close to him.

Jumping back, he looked up at you a little shocked, “Snippy.” He smirked knowing he was getting you worked up after seeing your scowl.

It took everything in you not to jump off the turbine to tell him off. But you knew better, they always sided with their precious Top Gun pilots not the lowly technicians.

Stifling the huff, you wanted to let out you answered him, “Just trying to do my job.”

“And I can’t do mine until your done so.”

You weren’t sure why this stranger was working you up so much, but man was he sure good at it. You thought you knew how to handle these assholes, but he was special. A special asshole.

“And you standing here interrupting me every five minutes sure as hell won’t make it get done faster Lieutenant.”

“Mitchell.”

Rolling your eyes you continued, “Did I ask?”

“No.” He smiled, “But may I know yours?”

“Y/N.” Replying as shortly to him as you could you decided it was a failed effort to try and fix his plane right now. So, you hopped right of the turbine to your ladder meeting him on the ground.

“Well, that’s a pretty name.” He looked all to gleeful he got you out of your perch, your comfort zone.

Nodding you turned away from him to grab your water. It was already far too hot, and this man wasn’t making it any cooler. Rather the opposite. Wiping the glistening sweat from your forehead you set your bottle back down on your tool chest.

“You should tell my mom that then. She’s the one who named me.” You searched for a grinder as you needed to smooth down the edges of the panel inserts.

You heard him chuckle from behind, “Are you always so defensive?”

“Are you always so annoying?” Countering you smiled as kindly as you could muster. You knew you had to put him in his place now or he’d walk all over you.

His smile grew even more only infuriating you further. He seemed to like your attitude. He really seemed to like that you weren’t afraid to speak your mind.

“Afraid so Y/N.” Grinning like a Cheshire cat he made his way over to you as you scavenged your toolbox looking for that damn grinding wheel.

You jumped nearly ten feet in the air once you found it, turned around and he was suddenly inches in front of you, “Jesus Christ, you can’t do that.”

He leaned himself on the toolbox cocking his head to the side, “My actual name is Pete, not Jesus Christ. Flattering though.”

You were simply beside yourself now. This man wasn’t going to stop. He was clever though. You did have to give him that. Clever and quick. A rather menacing combination on top of an already cocky and arrogant attitude? This dude was already too much for you to handle.

“Well Pete.” You gave him the up and down, fully taking him in, “Either make yourself useful and throw me tools or kindly get the fuck out of my hangar.” Batting your eyelashes, you shoved the grinding wheel into his stomach taking him by surprise. You heard the grunt he gave as you shoved it into him. Smiling to yourself you made your way back over to the damaged F-14.

“Tool tosser it is.” He followed you like a puppy, sitting down on the bottom rung of the ladder you were using.

Not sure what came over you that moment you were already regretting your decision to let Pete hang out with you. You weren’t a total loner, but the nature of the job meant you were crawling into tiny, dark places that usually didn’t allow for a partner. So, you learned to love working with yourself. You were very good at it too. Quickly rising through the technician ranks you found yourself at Top Gun only three years into your Naval career.

“How’d you end up here?” He asked after he tossed you the grinding wheel.

You looked over your repair area before answering him, “I’m good at my job.”

“Ha ha.” He gave you a look, one that showed he was starting to get annoyed by your snarky responses.

“My dad and I worked on cars growing up. We restored a ’53 Corvette over a few years and I just kinda fell in love with it. Completely rebuilt the engine with a new V8 instead of the V6 it originally came with.” You answered him as honestly as you felt, giving him more information than you would’ve normally disposed.

“That’s hot as hell.” You could practically hear the smirk in his voice, the confidence was oozing out of this man.

“Jigsaw.” You opted to shut him down again.

“A jigsaw?” He looked a little flabbergasted as you requested your desired tools.

“Mhmm. Know what tool that is Pete?” Deciding to belittle him you threw that stupid smirk right back in his face.

His flabbergasted look turned to one of shock then realization at your statement then a smile formed across it. He certainly was expressive, “Yes, Y/N. I know what a jigsaw is.”

“Very good.” You clapped waiting for him to retrieve the tool.

“I’m just surprised you need it is all.” He rolled his eyes, returning the favor you so graciously gave him many times throughout the past hour that he had been bothering you.

Shrugging your shoulders, “I didn’t warp the crash bar so badly it needs an entirely new one Pete.”

Raising his eyebrows he turned to you, “Have you ever seen that?”

Groaning you gave him the finger. You felt oddly comfortable conversing with the cocky pilot. It’s not like you didn’t like the Top Gun pilots you saw come in and out of the base but that was just that. They came for a few weeks and then they were off doing crazy shit again. You made sure to have fun but to never get involved.

He snickered before turning around and finding the jigsaw quickly. He tossed it up to you before you responded, “But no Pete, I haven’t seen this one in a while.”

“Bummer. Thought I’d be the first.”

Shaking your head, you returned your focus back to the task at hand. Pulling down your safety visor you began to let it rip, careful not to cut through any electrical components within the aircraft. Sparks began flying earning a grin from your face. You just loved it. It gave you such a sense of pride in yourself that you could do it and you did it better than the other mechanics. You always got the toughest planes to work on.

Once finished you smoothed it out with the grinding wheel. Peeking over the ledge you noticed Pete was still there, leaning against the ladder even though it took you about ten minutes to cut through.

“Still here?” You barked breaking him away from his thoughts. His stupid little smile formed as he took you in now. You were sure you looked like hell. The sticky humidity had your hair matted down on your forehead and neck. Grease streaked across your chin and neck unbeknownst to you. Your flight suit was almost shimmied all the way off of your body leaving you only in your tank top, a major violation. But you couldn’t really care right now, it was too hot to care. You just opted to pray your direct leader didn’t waltz on in like Pete did.

“Like I said, can’t do much without her.” He pointed to the F-14, “And you seem like you just love my company.” He grinned knowing it would egg you on.

“Oh, I just adore it.” You waited for him to look this time before you dropped the crash bar down to him.

“So,” He paused waiting for you to look at him this time, “How are you going to fix her?”

Smiling you hopped back out of the turbine onto the ladder leveling up with him once your feet hit the concrete, “I’m going to go get another crash bar, machine it down to the measurements I took then I’m going to weld it back together. With some new panels she’ll be as good as new.”

Pete’s eyes nearly bugged out of its sockets. He found that insanely attractive. Not like what you were already doing wasn’t attractive but man there was something about a woman that could handle her own.

“There you are!” A third voice interrupted the bickering pair. A lanky blonde haired

“Goose! Meet Y/N.” He pointed to you, “She’s fixing our girl.” He grinned eyeing both you and the plane between glances.

“Hello.” You smiled awkwardly feeling slightly claustrophobic with so many people in your usual solo space.

“Ma’am.” He nodded his head before turning back to Pete.

“We’ve got to get to training.” He attempted to pull Pete by the arm, but the stubborn man refused to budge.

“Relax Goose. I’m a little busy.” He shook off his friend’s arm.

Shaking your head, you clearly disagreed with him, “No, he’s not.”

Pete pouted. Crossing his arms over his chest and all, “I was helping.”

“Key word was. Past tense. Get to training Lieutenant. I really don’t want to hear Viper bitching about something else in the break room.” You gave him a wink, throwing him a bone. You hate to admit it, but you really did enjoy his company. But you had to remember he’d only be here a few weeks. You can have fun, but never can you get attached.

Grinning ear to ear he bowed out, “If the lady commands.” He eyed you.

“She does.”

You heard Goose laugh softly waiting for Pete to leave with him. Pete didn’t drop that damn smirk that never seemed to leave his face, “Will I see you again Y/N?”

“You know where I work.” You left the invitation open for him to come back. The statement left your mouth so fast you didn’t even process it. Mentally cursing yourself it clicked you invited the nuisance back for more and you were sure he was going to be back.

Nodding his head, he eyed you up and down once more before turning away, “See you tomorrow Y/N!” He walked over to Goose ruffling his hair after hitting him on the back. Lord only knows what the two of them were talking about.

Pete kept true to his word and showed up just as you were finishing up on his plane. You were sitting in the cockpit flipping a few switches when you heard the man whistle from below.

“Damn, this might be the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” The brown-haired pilot smiled as he leaned on your toolbox, yet again.

“Yeah, yeah.” You laughed shutting the engine down, satisfied in your work, “Too bad I can’t fly the damn thing.” Nearly whispering you weren’t sure if Pete heard you as you walked down the ladder.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly hearing you, “And what’s stopping you Y/N?”

The story was old as time now. You dreamed of being a pilot. Quite literally your whole life that’s all you wanted to be. Just like your dad. He was an Air Force pilot, and he was damn good at it. Your dreams were yanked right from you at the age of twelve when your family was in a pretty severe car accident blinding you in one eye completely. You were devastated when the doctors said they tried everything they could, your left eye would never see again.

Your pilot dreams ended that day, so you had to opt for the next best thing. Airplane mechanic. At least you’d get to work on them all day. Plus, your dad supported your dreams. He saw how sad you were after the incident, so he worked with you. The two of you rebuilt three classic cars by the time you turned eighteen. Your favorite being that first year Corvette.

“I’m blind in my left eye Pete.” You smirked waiting on his next comeback. Your smirk grew even further when you saw his eyes widen and his throat bob, seemingly stumping him.

“Well,” He ran his fingers through his hair clearly a little uncomfortable with the information you provided to him, “That’ll stop you.”

Erupting in laughter you weren’t expecting that response, “It sure did.” Grinning at the goofy man you looked back up at his plane, “And she’s as good as new.”

Pete looked between you and the plane chewing on his lip obviously contemplating something in his brain.

“Ever flown in one?”

“Nope.” You shook your head not really grasping what he was getting at.

“How about your first flight, today?”

Snapping your head back around Pete finally got you to pay attention to him, “Absolutely not.”

Frowning he stepped closer to you, “Why not?”

“Uhh, because I like my job?” Looking at him incredulously he was being dead ass serious. This pilot was seriously asking if you wanted to go up with him.

“Is it in the rule book?”

Pausing you thought long and hard trying to recall anything, “No?” Racking your brain, you really couldn’t recall a specific rule that forbade you to go up with the pilots. You’ve just never had the opportunity to. You knew your boss would flip a gasket if he knew what you did but it almost sounded enticing coming out of this near stranger’s mouth.

Sure, you’ve been in lots of cool military aircraft but never an F-14. Flying in one of those sounded like a pipe dream to you. But here was your chance. A cute aviator offering to take you up? Did you really want to pass up on one of your best opportunities to date?

He grinned, “You just need a helmet and then we can go on up.”

“Pete,” You paused trying to find the right words in your head, “I don’t think this is a great idea. Plus, I don’t have a helmet…”

Pete scoffed at you clearly not taking your excuses to heart, “You can borrow Goose’s. He keeps it clean anyway.”

“I don’t want to take something from him…”

He scoffed again, “He won’t mind. Where’s your telephone? Just need to ring him up to have him bring it over.”

“Pete…”

“What?” He took a good long look at your face finally realizing the slight discomfort he was putting on you, “It’ll be fine. Promise.” He squeezed your arm in comfort.

“I’ve just never been in trouble before and,”

“Even more of a reason to go. Take a risk. Live a little.” He placed his hands on your shoulders trying to level set you, “It’s just a little test flight.”

Licking your lips, you thought long and hard. Even if you did get caught Pete was right, it was just a test flight. Odds are your boss wouldn’t have a clue.

“Phone’s over there.” You pointed to the wall where it hung.

“Atta girl.” He ruffled the top of your hair ever so slightly before bounding off to the phone. You were still a bit taken aback by his domineering nature, still trying to get used to it. And the atta girl? That had you weak in your knees. Gripping your toolbox, you took a deep breath trying to recollect your bearings.

Pete walked back over, looking way to happy, “Goose is on the way!”

“Oh great.” You said as sarcastically as possible making your uneasiness of the situation very well known to the man. You wanted to. God, you wanted to. You’ve been waiting on this moment for as long as you could remember. But man were you nervous.

“Hey,” His smile dropped a little seeing you pace back and forth nervously, “If you don’t want to, you don’t have to.” He looked at you with a softness you had yet to see in the man.

Your arms were crossed as you ran your hands nervously up and down, “It’s not that. I just… I just don’t do things like this.” Admitting that to him was harder than you would’ve though. It was almost embarrassing to admit you were a little cowardly when it came to command. You hated getting in trouble. Your eyes almost always watered when you got reprimanded by the big bosses, them yelling in your face always seemed to get to you. Doing everything in your power to not get in trouble was your life motto,up until now. This decision was not going to keep you out of trouble.

“Always a time to start.” Pete grinned stopping close to you. Close enough that you got a nice big whiff of his cologne that sent your mind reeling almost instantly.

“I suppose.” You took a baby step back, feeling all too overwhelmed by his presence suddenly.

He reacted by taking a step closer to you, always seeming to push you out of your own comfort zone, “If you tie your hair back really tight and tuck it under your flight suit, they might even think it’s just Goose back there with me.”

Narrowing your eyes in on him you eyed him suspiciously. Was he being honest? Or was he simply fucking with you, “Really?”

Nodding his head, he inched just a step closer, really breaking down your personal boundary space, “It’s hard to see who’s really in the cockpit once the canopy is down. And you’ll be wearing his helmet. You can be Goose in our test flight.”

“Okay.” You gave him a genuine smile starting to feel slightly better about what you were going to do shortly.

“Oh Maverick!” Hearing a familiar voice both of you jumped out of the trance you were both in with each other. Goose walked in smirking like he just caught the two of you doing the deed right then and there. Walking up to the both of you he wiggled his eyebrows earning a backslap from Pete, “One clean and in perfect condition helmet for the lady.”

You took it from him gingerly observing the outside of it. Sure, you’ve picked up plenty of helmets but never a Top Gun Pilot’s one. These were made specifically for each pilot, hand painted and all, “Thank you Goose.” You smiled up at him.

“Anytime.” He threw you a wink, “Mav taking you up then?”

Nodding your head, you set the helmet down as gently as possible, “That’s the plan.” You laughed nervously feeling like this was a terrible idea now that it was happening.

“Here,” Pete walked over taking the helmet from the work bench, “I’m going to put this on you, okay?”

“Sure.” You felt your cheeks beginning to heat up feeling like a daft idiot. It should’ve been obvious, but you were too nervous you’d mess it up in front of the seasoned veterans.

He took it and slowly slid it over your head, making sure your earrings didn’t catch on any of the lining. Once it was fully seated, he grabbed a few straps tightening the helmet down to your smaller head size. The two of you were standing so close you felt his breath fan over the opening in your helmet onto your face. Your eyes took in his facial features as he was laser focused on getting the helmet to fit you properly.

You noticed the few freckles that had managed to pop out from his complexion. He had a few deeper wrinkles that you were sure were from the stress of his job. His focusing face was downright adorable as well with his lips pulling in one direction and his eyes scrunching just a bit.

He was a handsome man you had concluded. An arrogant one at that, handsome nonetheless. But you always had to remember the rule. You could have fun. You just couldn’t get attached. And this? Pete? He looked fun.

Goose let out a wolf-whistle as Pete stepped back examining his handy work, “She looks phenomenal!”

“Spectacular!” Pete chimed in.

“Stunning as ever!” Goose continued.

“A showstopper!”

“Okay!” You laughed nudging Pete’s side gently, “I get it.” You let out a small giggle beginning to feel more comfortable with the two pilots in front of you. They were nothing but best friends who loved to goof off. You didn’t need to be so intimidated by them.

“Now that you officially look the hottest you ever have, follow me.” Pete threw you a wink earning a hearty chuckle from his RIO. Goose was very used to Pete’s overly aggressive flirting. You however were not used to Pete’s flirting which sent your face from a pale white to a cherry red in almost an instant.

“Have fun up there Y/N.” Goose laughed taking a seat at your work bench.

“I will!” You threw him a thumbs up before following closely behind Pete, not wanting to miss any of his instruction.

“Up you go.” He grinned seeing your small figure in the big helmet.

Obliging you climbed up the internal ladder to the plane plopping yourself in the back seat. What you didn’t see was Pete ogling you from behind as your hips swayed moving you up the ladder. Once he snapped back into reality, he followed you up. Instead of climbing into his seat though he climbed right on top of you sending your brain right back into the tizzy it was in earlier. You were so thankful it wasn’t as hot today or you might just be a puddle on the ground.

You knew there wasn’t much room in the canopy. But when a man straddled you in the second seat you realized just how tight the space was. You were feeling overtly grateful the helmet covered up the majority of your cheeks or else Pete might’ve caught onto your feelings.

“What are you doing?” You asked faintly as he leaned forward bringing his chest so close to your head.

Smirking he grabbed something behind you and pulled back, “Buckling you in.”

“Oh.” Was all that came out. Of course, that’s all he was doing. He was just making sure you were safe and yet here you were thinking some rather unsavory thoughts.

He knocked you out of your own thoughts as he leaned back looking you up and down, “I lied earlier.”

“About what?” You gave him a confused look, stitching your eyebrows together.

“This has got to officially be the hottest you’ve ever looked.”

“Pete!” You laughed punching his arm lightly. He was a character that was for sure. One you really wanted to know more about.

Laughing with you he gave you a new smile, one that oozed with sweetness instead of cockiness, “You good?” He asked you one more time. You knew it was his one last check before taking this up with you.

Giving him a thumbs up and an eager nod you smiled right back at him, “I’m good.”

“Alright.” He nodded as he leaned down to grab a black tube, “This is your oxygen mask. I’m going to put it on you now so you can get a feel for it. You need to have this on whenever we aren’t just flying straight, it’ll help keep your brain filled with oxygen.”

Nodding you let him know you were paying attention to his every word, “If you take this off when I’m diving or climbing you will probably pass out. Got it?”

“Got it boss.” You threw him a thumbs up through the thick gloves you had on.

He snapped it into your mask after bringing your visor down, letting you get a full feel for the increased oxygen that began flowing through your body, “You might feel a little lightheaded at first. It’s a lot of Oxygen all at once.” He smiled as he watched you closely, making sure you were okay.

Taking a deep breath, you realized just how right he was. Feeling immediately lightheaded you took a second to ground yourself again. Blinking rapidly, you looked up at him. He was giving you the sweetest look now too. It might’ve took your breath away if the Oxygen hadn’t already. He was waiting on you to give him a signal that you were good, so you threw up another thumbs up.

After a moment he continued, “This is how you disconnect it.” He pressed a button on the side of the mask, and it popped right off, “Now, you have to have this on or close to your mouth if you want to communicate. All comms pass through this.”

“Rodger that.” You grinned as you started getting excited. You were really about to do this. You’d wanted to do this for forever it didn’t really feel real.

Clicking your oxygen mask back into place he waited for you to signal that you were good. Once you did he hopped to the front walking you through what he was doing. He explained the pre-flight checklist that he had to do every time. Goose helped as you had absolutely no idea what was going on.

“You ready?” Pete’s voice rang through your helmet causing you to jump slightly. This was certainly different. No way you could be a pilot if you had any ounce of claustrophobia.

“Born ready.” Giggling you took in all the sights of the runway around you.

It was crazy being in a taxiing plane. You’d been on those runways thousands if not millions of times, but you had never seen them like this.

“Canopy clear?” He asked waiting for you to respond.

“Clear!” Bouncing up and down you really couldn’t believe it now. Once the canopy locked into place you heard Pete chatting back and forth with the tower. Letting him know when he was cleared for flight. The adrenaline coursing through your body was like nothing you’d ever experienced. Once you heard all clear you sat back in your seat waiting on Pete.

“Taking off in 3… 2… 1.” He punched it sending you flying back into your seat. Eyes wide you watched your surroundings as this little plane took off effortlessly.

“Woah.” Was all you managed to get out once Pete level set the plane. The two of you simply flying in one direction.

“It’s something isn’t it.” He spoke. You could hear the adoration in his voice.

“Something is a word for it.” You couldn’t seem to stop looking around you

Pete looked into his mirror watching you take in everything. He stifled his laugh not wanting to interrupt your moment in the plane for the first time. He swore he could’ve watched you take everything in for the next six hours, but he had things to do. He had to stress the plane out a little. It was a test flight after all. He could’ve warned you, but he really wanted you to go so he opted to spare the details.

“Don’t kill me but…” He had to interrupt you. He was running out of military occupied air space. He didn’t have the authority to go into civilian air space just yet.

“What?” You snapped your attention forward suddenly feeling a little anxious about it all.

“Well, it is a test flight. Got to check your work out and all.”

“Okay…” You let him continue not one hundred percent sure what all his statement entailed.

“So, I’m going to dive and climb a few times and stress her out just a bit.”

“Cool!” Grinning, you felt that giddy feeling again, “Just don’t kill me!” Laughing Pete took that as his sign that you were all good and ready for whatever he had in store for you.

Your breath caught in your throat as he let it rip. A small ‘oh my god’ wanted to escape your lips but your brain wasn’t processing as fast as Pete was maneuvering. You took in a big breath of oxygen just as Pete began to climb. You felt like you were on a roller coaster again only this time with a big ass rock pressing against your chest.

This was insane, in the best way. You couldn’t believe pilots got to do this every single day. You also failed to understand how they did that and shot at enemies at the same time. It simply didn’t compute in your brain.

“You alright back there?” Pete’s voice interrupted you from your thoughts.

“Yes! More than alright.” You coughed slightly still trying to get used to the mask.

“Let’s have some fun then.”

And boy did he. You were flying upside down at one point. Pete said he had nearly perfected it at one point. You thought you’d be a little more frightened by it all, but you weren’t. You felt so utterly safe with Pete in the front fear never really crossed your mind.

“Over already?” You frowned seeing the plane descend towards the base.

“Afraid so.” Pete chuckled. He expected you to be a little more freaked than you were. You fully embraced the entire ordeal.

“Boo.”

Pete landed flawlessly, of course. He couldn’t take it back to your hangar instead taxing it back to its home hangar. The taxi back in was quiet between the two of you as he was getting direction from command. You clicked your oxygen mask off setting it down to the side. Your mind was so blown you couldn’t even think. That was perhaps the coolest thing you’ve ever done, and it wasn’t even close. You felt a little surge of jealousy that pilots got to do this every single day.

Once you parked Pete lifted the canopy before quickly unbuckling himself. He turned to you seeing your shell-shocked face. He tried to stop himself from laughing, he really did. But after seeing your expression he let out a hearty chuckle. Which, of course, resulted in you giggling with him.

After the two of you calmed down Pete again jumped over and straddled you, unbuckling you gently from the seat, “You like it?”

“Did I like it?” You repeated his question softly as you looked up to him. Trying to find the right words you finally responded after a moment, “That was the coolest thing I’ve ever done. I more than liked it. Thank you, Pete.”

“My pleasure gorgeous.” He reached down to undo your helmet, slowly sliding it off your head.

Your expression was fully exposed for him to take in now. Your current state was something Pete wanted to lock into his memory . Your previously slicked down hair had gotten messed up by the helmet and was sticking in every which direction. The apples of your cheeks were bright red with all the excitement you had experienced in the last twenty minutes.

The smile that came over your face was a sight he needed to etch in his memory. One of the most genuinely happy expressions he’s ever seen was what you were giving him. He could feel his heart rate pick up as he looked you over. His stomach in small knots as you looked to him.

“That was wow.” You were still searching for words.

He gave you his hand to take, “Right? It never gets old.”

Grabbing his hand he pulled you up, right into his chest, “Sorry.” Your eyes went wide as you attempted to back up, but your boot got caught on the seat sending you backwards.

Luckily Pete was quicker than you, grabbing onto your suit he saved you from toppling backwards in the cockpit, “Sorry!” You gasped wanting to hit yourself right on the forehead for making such a fool of yourself in front of him.

“It’s okay.” He smiled letting your flight suit go, “Are you okay?” He looked you over with concern.

“I’m fine.” Responding to him quickly, you prayed he’d just hop back over to his seat. He either understood that you were terribly flustered and wanted to keep messing with you or he was clueless to your emotions as ever. You had an inkling feeling he was messing with you.

Raising his eyebrows he did another scan over you, “Are you sure? Your face is a little flushed.” He pointed towards your cheeks.

You gulped deciding to let it all out, not sure how much more you could take, “I’m great. You’re just very close to me right now.” Your voice tapered off as you continued to talk to him.

Picking up what you were putting down Pete nodded, while smirking, and jumped back into the front seat. Taking a deep breath, you followed him down to the ground once he turned everything off. What the hell was wrong with you? You’d been working here for a few years and had yet to get so caught up in an aviator so quickly. Let alone one of the cockiest ones you met. But his confidence drew you into him. You couldn’t believe you were finding him as attractive as you were in that moment, he was the annoying pilot that wouldn’t leave you alone yesterday and now? Now… you were doomed. That quickly. A sinking feeling of dread coursed through your body as you realized you would likely not be following your very own rule.

Handing your helmet off to Pete he again raked his eyes over your figure. Surly he wouldn’t be so brazen about it? Yet he was. Unashamed to check you out like he was it sent another blush right to your cheeks. Exposing you yet again.

Biting your lip, you decided to observe what he was doing. Silently you walked up, standing beside him observing the notes he was taking.

“You can’t do that.” He muttered eyeing you from his peripherals.

“What?” Cocking your head to the side you feared you probably looked like a Golden Retriever in that moment.

He let a breath of air out before turning to you while pointing at his lips, “Bite your lip like that.”

“And why not?” Crossing your arms over your chest you decided to play this one up. Leaning towards him you through your mouth into a pout as you batted your eyelashes as dramatically as possible.

Throwing his head back in laughter you couldn’t help but to check him out now. Eyes moving up and down his body you were caught when you looked back up, staring right at you, “Would you like to go up in the plane again?” He asked, ignoring your question.

“Well, hell yeah I would.” Your eyes lit up looking back towards the F-14. You’d go up in the plane everyday if you could.

Smiling he bobbed his head, “Don’t do that then.”

“That’s not fair Mavvvverick.” Drawing out his callsign you knew you exactly what you were doing. Driving him insane.

“Life’s not fair Y/N.” He continued grinning finishing up whatever he was writing.

Rolling your eyes, you turned away from him. He was good. You’d give them that. It was usually way too easy to get exactly what you want when you want from these men, “Okay, dad.”

“Oof.” He placed a hand on your shoulder spinning you around back to face him. Not realizing what he was doing until it was already done you looked at him incredulously.

“What was that for?”

Taking a step closer, way too close for your brain to handle, he leaned down whispering into your ear, “I’ll tell you what. Meet me here tomorrow at 7. We need another test flight.”

“What? You don’t have faith in my repairs?” Throwing him back a wink you waited for his response as the gears started turning in his head.

“I’ve got all the faith in the world.”

The perma-smile that laced your face for the last hour had yet to diminish, “7 it is. See you later Pete.”

“You sure will.” He watched longingly as you waved him off and walked back to your hangar.

[duck-in-a-thrift-store]

Prologue? Pilot? IDK Man I Just Work Here

part 1.1

{hello and welcome to the very first chapter of the full house au. i know @moreover-clover and @redley-of-many-noodles offered to beta this fic for me; i appreciate that and i may very well take you up on it for later chapters, but tbh i have homework that really needs to get done and i will not be able to focus on anything else until i get this out of the way, so... hopefully its not terrible i guess. that said, i did initially start writing this in past tense and then decided to do it in present instead, so if anyone notices a typo/tense error, feel free to point it out so i can fix it lol

trigger warning for mentions of injuries and death

now without further ado...}

~~~

Stumbling past the automatic glass doors, covered in blood- but is it his own? Or does it belong to the barely conscious man he’s dragging along beside him?

Probably both.

The bright white lights overhead burn his eyes and the sharp sterile scent of chemicals does the same to his nose- this is not a pleasant place to be, but it’s the only place to be right now. It’s their only hope of not losing yet another person to this alternate dimension shit that’s been plaguing their lives for three years.

Seeing Eddie’s crumpled, torn-apart body in the Upside Down, watching Dustin sob over him- that had been bad enough. They may have had almost matching wounds, but Eddie’s were deeper, and there were twice as many of them, and, god, that could have been him, it should have been him.

Dustin’s devastated and the world is ending and we’ve lost someone else and dammit didn’t I tell him not to be a hero?

But then he’d found a pulse. The faintest flutter, but it was there, and it spurred him right back into action, adrenaline pumping overtime through his veins even as he was ready to collapse. Both of them might well be on death’s door, but they had hope.

And then, just as they made it back through the gate, they had gotten the call over the walkie about Max.

The panic and despair threatened to settle back over him, driving him into the ground with its weight. He had been trying so hard to keep her safe since they realized she was Vecna’s next target, and now…

They were supposed to meet up at the hospital, so that’s where he went. He has to see the kids and he has to keep Eddie breathing and maybe just maybe he’ll get a chance to get his own wounds looked at, if there’s time. Robin will never forgive him if he lets rabies take him out.

So he and Dustin have Eddie slung between them, barreling clumsily through the Hawkins ER like a lopsided bull in a proverbial china shop while everyone else stares on in confusion and horror at the state they’re in. If anyone recognizes the fallen king or the target of the ongoing manhunt, they don’t say anything, and for that one tiny thing in the long and awful list of what’s happened today, he’s grateful.

There are, however, voices aimed in his direction, lilted up at the end in interrogation, but he can’t afford to think right now; he can only keep moving forward, giving weakly shouted answers to questions that go in one ear and out the other. His mind is clouded with fear and the desperation to get all his important people back together in one room so he can see that they’re all still alive. If they aren’t, if someone is missing, if Max doesn’t make it, if no one will treat Eddie-

He’s vaguely aware that he’s begging at this point, but he doesn’t care. His brain is too busy listing.

Robin, Nancy, Erica, Lucas- they’re together, they’re with Max. The Byers are all the way in California; Mike is probably on his way back right now- what a mess to come home to. Dustin- he’s with me. Safe. Eddie- also with me, not safe, probably dying.

They may not have known each other long, but he does feel tears prick his eyes at the thought- they had literally marched into hell together, after all. A nurse offers him a tissue- when did they get here? When did he sit down? And why is the room spinning like the Starcourt ceiling last July?

He doesn’t get an answer to any of his questions, doesn’t even get to voice them, before the room is going dark and Dustin’s frantic voice at his side is sounding further and further away, until everything goes quiet.

~~~

The silence is broken by a harsh ringing noise, followed by muffled voices, the latter growing clearer as the former slowly fades out. He knows those voices.

He jolts upright, sending a sharp trail of pain through his lacerated torso, but is momentarily distracted by the fact that he had somehow wound up in a hospital bed between blacking out and waking up. As soon as his mind catches up to speed on his new whereabouts, he looks wildly around the room- not exactly a typical hospital room, but that hasn’t registered yet- taking stock of every face he can see, every voice he can hear.

To his immense relief- and also confusion- he sees Max in a bed just like his right across from him, Lucas and El at her side. She’s in bad shape, but she appears to be alive, at least.

Thank god. Wait- El? What is she doing here?

The next thing he sees is the entire Byers family- plus two extra guys, one of whom looks familiar but way paler and thinner and more beaten up than Steve remembers- squeezed onto a couch at the far end of the room.

Weren’t they in California? And- hold on- is that Hopper? Isn’t he dead?

Wait.

Am I dead?

Before he can have an existential crisis, though, something snaps him out of it. A hand on his shoulder, rougher than he would have liked, to be honest, but grounding. Dustin- who he realizes must have been sleeping in the chair between him and the next bed over- has just woken up in time to catch him doing the same, and the kid looks thrilled. Exhausted, emotionally drained, but thrilled.

“Steve! Guys, he’s awake!”

All eyes turn his way, just about everyone accounted for, it seems, and somewhere in the back of his mind he wonders how Robin and all the kids got here with their usual chauffer currently out of action. But then he notices something else. Something that honestly shouldn’t be as startling as it is, considering everything else going on.

All the parents are here too. And they look… well, about how they can be expected to look, given the circumstances.

“Good, I’m glad you’re alright,” says Karen Wheeler, arms crossed over her chest, menacing gaze sweeping the room. “Because my son came home in the back of a pizza van, begging us to take him to the hospital, where apparently you and two of his other friends have been half-dead all night in the middle of these so-called ‘earthquakes,’ and I’d really like an explanation. From all of you.”

~~~

The room was dead silent, the parents staring in wide-eyed shock as the long-winded, traumatic narrative drew to a close.

“So… I guess you guys need some time to process all that, huh?”

Dustin’s question was met with a sudden cacophony of returning inquiries, sharp and frantic and tinged with bewilderment, overlapping one another in their haste. It was hard to tell who said what through the haze of whatever painkillers they put in his IV.

“How the hell did we not know about any of this?”

“Hawkins is cursed?”

“Why didn’t any of you say anything?”

“All this has been going on under our noses for years?”

He had been expecting disbelief, accusations of letting their imaginations run away from them, but… their tale connects a few too many dots, makes a little too much sense, considering how strange and malevolent life has become in their formerly sleepy little town.

“Are- are you guys- mad?” Will asks, even though he, out of all of them, has the least to worry about.

Before any of them could answer, Mike jumps in, “Because, if you are, that’s really not fair, we’ve sorta been through a lot as it is-”

“And that’s exactly why we’re mad- no- furious. Our kids have been going through hell right in front of us and we had no idea! Of course we’re going to be upset about it! You guys could have died, and we would have had no idea what happened!”

“Well, yeah, I guess, but- we didn’t. We’re fine, mom…”

“You are absolutely not fine. After everything you just told us about? There’s no way you could possibly be fine. This whole thing is so far outside the realm of fine.”

There’s a heavy pause after that; it’s not like anyone can disagree with her. When no response comes, she turns her fierce, teary eyes on the older teens.

“What about you guys? You- Steve, Jonathan, Nancy- you’ve known about all this the whole time! Why didn’t you tell us? Why didn’t you come to us for help?” It sounds like an accusation, and yet… there’s more pain in her voice than anything. Her targets wince, crumple, while Robin and Argyle- whoever that is- just sort of awkwardly shuffle about off to the side, none of them meeting Mrs. Wheeler’s gaze.

It's Joyce who ends up breaking the tense silence.

“In their defense, Karen, Hop and I knew about all this too. The thing is- we weren’t allowed to tell anyone.”

Having become one of her anger’s new targets, Hopper quickly explains, “The Hawkins lab freaks made us sign a bunch of NDAs, take a vow of silence on the whole matter, basically. It was the only way to get them to cooperate. If we had gone around telling people, we could’ve put everyone in even more danger. And besides, before now, would you have even believed us? If we had told you there were monsters like something out of a sci-fi movie hunting folks down, taking over minds, opening portals to another dimension- right in the middle of Hawkins?”

“Would you have believed your kids?” Joyce adds softly, addressing all her fellow moms in the room.

At that, Karen deflates. She exchanges a look with Sue and Claudia, and speaks for all of them when she says, “I… I guess not. I want to say I would have, but… it’s all too crazy. If we hadn’t seen what we saw today, and if you all didn’t have each other backing up your story, well… honestly, I would have thought you were making it up.” Apparently the Wheelers had almost driven right into one of the rifts- one of the very obviously otherworldly rifts- on their way here. Well, they had to find out somehow.

“And that’s another reason we couldn’t tell you. We didn’t want you to think we were crazy,” Nancy explains.

Lucas tacks on, “We also didn’t want you to send El back to the lab, or to any other messed up place that would lock her up and hurt her.”

El nods seriously, a fearful expression flashing across her face as she takes a step back, bumping into Max's bed. Lucas places a reassuring hand- the one not occupied with holding Max's- on her shoulder.

“Oh- honey, no, we would never do that. Don’t worry. We actually owe you a lot, it sounds like; I can’t thank you enough for saving my children’s lives. You’ll always be safe with us, as far as I’m concerned.”

“But that’s the thing,” Susan interjects, not taking her watery eyes off her comatose daughter. “They’re not safe, none of them are, not here. And they haven’t been for a long time, it seems. I don’t know when they will be safe. I hate to say it, but I don’t think our kids should stay in Hawkins.”

This triggers a rush of protests from the kids, voices once again blending in a way that’s difficult for Steve to keep up with.

“But- but Hawkins needs us! Now more than ever!”

“Yeah! We have to stay and fight!”

“We can’t just let Vecna have our town!”

Hopper motions for everyone to settle down. “Listen, kids. I know you want to help, but you’ve been fighting this battle for too long as it is. You all never should have been involved in something so dangerous in the first place.”

“Right, what he said. I mean, you’re just kids, for god’s sake!” Claudia adds in, although she still looks mostly stunned by everything she’s just found out about.

“This is not your responsibility. We’ll stay here and fight, and you all will get somewhere safe, somewhere far away from all this.”

This does indeed sound like a direct order from their returned-from-the-dead resident chief of police. What comes next, though, is much gentler, fatherly, and he’s definitely looking right at El when he says it.

“Let us take it from here, okay?”

~~~

{i decided to break this up into 2 parts; idk when ill post the second half but it should be fairly soon. also dont know when ill put it up on ao3 as i dont currently have an account there, but im definitely planning to bc with as much as i have planned for this au so far its going to be a pain in the ass to read it all here lmao

edit: its going to be 3 parts instead of 2

Link to part 1.2 here}

[mercurydancer]

Burning Matches Pt. 2

Adaptation

_

This was all written like. Directly after Into the SpiderVerse came out and kind of ignored the ending bumper with Miguel because I didn't know what was coming. So! We're going to say this is an alternate universe of an alternate universe.

Not like it's out of the question LOL

_

            Peni Parker was smart. She had learned how to hack into a mainframe when she was six, and she had been making her own mechanical suits since she was eight. Her father’s death had catapulted her headfirst into the role of pilot at nine, her main motivation for creating those suits fading with the sudden realization that the one that she wanted to pilot them would never be able to again. But there was something else that probably made her more dangerous and more efficient than anyone believed she could be:

           Peni was adaptable.

           When given the information that the only one that could use her father’s suit was her, Peni had gone with it. She had allowed the spider-half of the SP//dr CPU to bite her, and in turn she had gained the arachnid’s presence in her own brain…and she had also gained the ability to use the mech. Peni had taken to it like a fish to water and had been operating the mech successfully for five years. She had learned how to use the SP//dr’s own abilities and make them her own, she had learned how to hack those same mainframes when bullets were fired at her, and she had learned how to go with the flow when under constant pressure. It was why when the world suddenly changed around her in a way that pulled her into a swirling vortex of color, she didn’t panic, she instead sought to gain information.

           It had been harder than she had originally anticipated. The universe she had found herself in had a significantly less advanced information system and it had been difficult to gain access to it. Yet, Peni was adaptable. She made it work as well as she could, until she felt the tugging in the back of her mind.

           Finding the black-and-white man pressing himself to the side of a building had been odd at first. Okay, more than odd, it had been downright mind-blowing. There was nothing to explain why he was able to stick to the side of the condemned building, nothing to explain why he was absorbing all of the multicolored lights from the billboards and reflecting said light as white. He was an anomaly dressed in a trench coat and a spider-mask, complete with large bug-eyed lenses, and it was odd.

           It was also kind of amazing.

           Peni couldn’t stick to walls, she used her SP//dr for that, but here this man was, and he was pressed to it as though he was made for it. Even so, there was a kinship she felt to him, a mutual understanding born from something that she couldn’t quite grasp hold of. Yet, there had been some information that she had managed to glean from this world, and this was something that she actually recognized, even though she had not expected to see it so soon, nor quite in this manner.

           She had seen the information in this world of someone called Spider-Man. Had seen videos of him swinging across New York with webs, stick to walls, and dodge things that he would have no knowledge about, and she thought that perhaps this man was the same. He was simply as out-of-place as her, but in a very different way.

           Peni wondered if whatever had pulled her to this world had pulled him as well. It was what allowed her to do something else she hadn’t initially planned on doing.

           It allowed her to be vulnerable. It allowed a bit of that fear to rise up and display itself before someone who she had no doubt would not take advantage. And besides…whatever fear she was feeling, whatever unvoiced anxiety she was struggling with, she could tell that he was in much worse condition than her. Even still, the moment she opened her mouth and allowed a surprised, almost awed “you’re like me” pass her lips, and heard the answering echo from him, she watched as everything that he was feeling was discarded. He stood before her, booted-feet easily keeping him stuck to the concrete as he stared into her revealed eyes as the hatch opened, and she found herself idly impressed.

           ‘Peter,’ as it turned out his name was, was also proving to be adaptable.

           When he suggested that he was like her, and they both had similar out-of-place stylizations, and brought up the fact that this similarity likely wasn’t coincidence, she was sold. She was sold enough to not mind when it turned out that Peter couldn’t adapt quite quick enough. Peni herself was having trouble whenever she looked at him, she couldn’t imagine the agony of suddenly being hit with an almost infinite number of colors.

           Peni’s tolerance was quickly turned to impressed when he suddenly flung himself away from her mech and threw out his own web halfway to their destination – a taller building so she could gain more signal (the past was weird). The web he threw out was as black as he was, a stark contrast to the white of her own, but she knew what it was as soon as she saw it. He kept pace with her easily, though he had to take two swings for every one of hers. Her extra five feet made up for a lot when it came to swinging, but he still managed to keep right alongside her.

           Peni grinned as she realized that this wasn’t just someone that was like her, this was someone that she could trust. This was someone that would push themselves, would push her, and she needed that. Particularly when the rest of the world didn’t seem to want to stop throwing curve-balls at her.

           The pig was…weird. He was colored, which was nice, but he seemed to disobey every law of physics there was.

           Peter Porker did not adapt to the world around him. Porker made the world adapt to him.

           He came in literally floating in the breeze by his nose, towards a hot-dog stand of all things. The only thing that saved the people from a panic-attack and potential questionings of sanity was a black web that was launched out, catching the pig, and bringing it to them. Peter Porker reacted to them in a similar way to the way that Peter and herself had reacted to each other, and gave his own story as they all stood on top of another building, out of the way of the people underneath as the sun set behind them

           Adapt, Peni reminded herself, adapt. The poor black-and-white Peter looked absolutely boggled when she spared a glance his way. This wasn’t his day.

           “So, I was a spider living in the basement of this wonderful pig named May Porker, right? Well one day she decides she wants to reinvent the hair-dryer and irradiates herself!” He throws his hands around as he describes this, and both Peni and Peter watched him silently, taking in his pacing. “And then she bit me, and I turned into a pig, with most of the abilities I had before when I was a spider! She’s been acting as my Aunt ever since, I think she feels bad for biting me, but it’s not been that bad of a gig! I get to save the world and aside from Pork-Grind, it’s been a pretty nice deal. I guess you can all call me Porker considering there’s another Peter that got here first, and that’s a good way to identify us. But what about your stories? Who are you guys?”

           The explanations they gave had very little difference to the one that they had told each other, and Porker made a bit of an exaggerated “yeesh” sound as Peter finished his own story. “Lighten up a little,” he told him. Peter didn’t give him a response.

           The fact that it was also a Peter that they found, though in this case given the last name of Porker, further emphasized the fact that this seemed extremely targeted. It also made the idea of seeing if this universe had an Aunt May even more appealing to Peni. Pete – something that black-and-white Peter suggested they call him when it became apparent that it was likely the Spider-Man of this universe was likely named Peter, and they couldn’t both be Peter – seemed extremely wary of the idea at first, but at both Porker and Peni’s combined pushing, he caved.

           Peni found Aunt May’s address easily enough once she knew what to search for, as well as the confirmation she needed that it really was a Peter Parker that was swinging around the city. They had their safe-haven found, they had the one that could help them, and likely hook them up with her nephew in order to get them back home, in case Peter lived somewhere else. They would be able to help him fix what was wrong, they would save the world…

           Later, Peni would almost wish that Pete hadn’t caved to their plan of finding Aunt May.

           Peni hid SP//dr as she didn’t want to draw anymore stares than they already did, her spider friend carefully perched on her shoulder.

           The way the door swung open and an older woman stepped out was something that Peni had not expected, nor was the sight of the baseball bat. She especially hadn’t expected the way she locked eyes on Pete and almost sagged. Peni watched as that Aunt May threw her arms around Pete, and how after a moment’s shock, Pete returned the embrace. They were brought into her house before attention could truly focus on them, and that was when they saw the television.

           “Peter Parker found dead at 26,” read the ticker-tape on the news station it was turned to, and Peni felt her heart sink.

           Pete tightened his grip on this aunt that wasn’t his, and the other two took a step back out of respect.

           It was something else to adapt to, and they were good at that.

_

           Adaptability was something that Miles did not seem to have.

           It seemed to be something that he was learning, but for now he didn’t have it. He couldn’t react to Pete’s punches, not even when he loudly announced what he was about to do, he couldn’t react to Ham’s quick-talking, and he couldn’t react to her questions. He couldn’t turn invisible, he couldn’t shock anyone… Miles could barely swing, could barely cling to walls.

           Miles couldn’t get back up.

           Miles was the kid she never got to be.

           Miles was the one that had never been forced to adapt, and while a part of her resented that, the rest of her envied that. Well, now the world was trying to force him, and he just…wasn’t ready. Peni didn’t hate him, nor did she want him to die, and it was with this in mind that she was one of the first to state that he couldn’t be of help to them. Pete’s voice was right there with hers, as was Porker’s, and while Gwen tried to say that she had seen him, knew he had potential, it seemed as though Miles knew he wasn’t ready to adapt either.

           Miles ran, having finally managed to turn invisible, and Peni hoped that he stayed away, if only for his own safety. Miles isn’t like them, he can’t adapt, and Peni doesn’t want him to get hurt.

_

           Pete couldn’t be the one to use the Goober.

           When making it she had not considered the fact that he had never seen color before in his life. She had made the Goober with color, had designed it to be simple to use – for ones that had grown up with color, had learned their names and shades when they were growing up, not one that had never seen them. Pete kept trying with the Rubik’s cube, kept trying to name the colors, and he kept failing. He recognized his failure and took himself off the list of people that could stay behind. This was something that he couldn’t adapt to, not in time, and as soon as he recognized it, he stepped away. It was done with a grace she had not expected, even though she could see the way it killed him. He didn’t want to let Peter B do it, he didn’t want to let Gwen do it, his very nature hating the fact that he had to let another life take the hit, but he knew that he couldn’t do it.

           Peter Porker had a similar problem, as being a pig he was used to color, but was color-blind in a way that was different to Pete’s. He reacted to the inability with a similar way to how he reacted to everything else, made a joke out of it. Peni wasn’t sure how to react to the cartoon pig that operated on a different level than they did, but she was willing to see how far he could take his ability to make things adapt to him and see what he could do.

           Peni vowed to herself that as soon as she found something that she couldn’t adapt to, she would handle it like Pete.

           When they finally went together to stop the Kingpin, the fight was worse than she had ever expected. It was also the most surprising. She hadn’t expected herself to suddenly be pinned to the ground as Scorpion hit and hit and hit and… Peni couldn’t do it.

           Peni couldn’t adapt, she couldn’t get him to stop, she couldn’t get away, she was…she was going to die.

           She let go…

           And then she was saved.

           Porker appeared out of nowhere and proved that there was so much more to him than met the eye, something she had known from the beginning. The large mallet he pulled out of his pocket and beat Scorpion with was a wonder, and if Peni hadn’t been struggling to get out of her crippled mech she would have been amazed. Pete came in then after Porker stunned him, and grabbed the Scorpion with his deadly tail, swinging him around in a circle as she finally managed to climb out of her busted mech and pulled the SP//dr’s leg away, holding it like a bat, making eye contact with Pete. Pete let go, sending the Scorpion flying towards her, and she finally hit him with that leg, sending him out into the void, rage filling her and fueling her. Her rage faded just as suddenly as it appeared, taking in the sight of her broken mech. Spider crawled out then, the small arachnid that was her best friend and had been her only companion crawling onto her hand as she offered it. She felt the words that he whispered into her skull, felt the soothing thrum of assurance in her head, and in the tapping of his pedipalps on her hand, and then there was someone behind her. When Pete offered her his shoulder, she accepted as she offered the Spider her own, and Pete swung her out and towards the Goober with the others, for one final goodbye, and she felt a smile stretch her face as she finally caught sight of Miles, a sudden burst of happiness hitting her even in her mourning over the lost mech.

           Miles had adapted.

           They would be okay. They’d all go home, and they’d be okay. Miles knew what he was, he knew who he was. He was Spider-Man. He could do it.

           They said their goodbyes and their last words, and then they were gone.

           Peni found herself in her universe down more friends than she ever wanted to lose, and for once in her life decided she didn’t want to adapt. She wasn’t going to quietly accept it like Pete had, she was going to do something different.

           Peni was going to be like Porker. She was going to force the universe to adapt to her. She was bringing her Spider-Fam back, no matter how long it took her, and the universe, quite simply: could suck it.

[saneabandoned]

Here’s my first ever Star Wars fanfic! Hope you enjoy it, let me know what you think!

Rating: M

Word count: 2248

Tags: graphic depictions of violence, trauma, war, let me know if I missed something

Summary: She'd learned to live with them, be one of them, and they'd accepted her in their pack. Then they turned on her and she'd ran away. Away from her pack, from her brothers, from the only family she'd ever had.

But now he had found her.

She-Wolf

Chapter One

Memories wouldn’t serve her. They couldn’t save her now, no matter how vivid. And vivid they were.

Memories of the war, of fire and destruction. Fear, every living creature full of it, a fiery kind of fear that made them do the unthinkable at times. Fear that saved lives. Fear that destroyed lives.

Memories she just couldn’t let go of – places, smells. The smell of fire that still seemed to follow her everywhere, that had followed her for years on end. The smell of acid and smoke that inevitably came after the fire.

Memories of faces. Eyes. Thousands of identical faces she’d methodically learnt to tell apart. Their eyes looking at her, trusting her, as she led them into countless battles. Trust she never thought she deserved, she knew she didn’t, not when they were dying. In her arms. Died protecting her, watching her back. She didn’t deserve that. Didn’t deserve them.

Memories of voices, both alive and dead. In her head and outside, on the battlefield. Voices screaming commands, crying out for help, and voices silenced in mere seconds. The voice of death, one she could never unhear, an unstoppable, piercing, hollow, dark sound. It knew her name. She knew its name too.

But there were memories of warmth too – of comradeship shared, of hands reaching out, catching hers at what always seemed to be the last second. Unshakable trust and belief. Unbreakable bounds.

Until they were shaken. Until they were broken.

She knew she wasn’t safe here, on this planet. Safety didn’t exist, and it couldn’t be, not since the war ended. Every last one of her kind was prosecuted, captured, killed. Running was the only option now and hiding – its natural consequence. She hated it with every little cell she had in her body – she wasn’t made for hiding. It was not in her nature. She thrived in combat, the only time her mind and body were agreeing and cooperating; the only place she truly felt useful, amongst others, saving lives.

Taking them.

She shook her head and sighed. It was never easy to calm her thoughts and let go of them. Nowadays even less so; there were too many, too strong, the memories filled her mind; she could never fully clear her head.

That’s why you failed.

She sighed again, angrily this time, but still stubbornly keeping her eyes closed. Meditation had to work. Sleep was evading her for days and her body was exhausted, not to mention all the running and the still painful loss of her ship that were also bringing her down. Well, the ship was still here somehow, she was sitting on its roof, but it wasn’t operational at all. She had never been a good pilot, though ever since the war ended, she had to learn a bit. Landings were very rough though. Especially when she was chased, which was almost all the time.

You should have died with the rest of them.

That was it. Furious, she opened her eyes and felt her shoulders slump as she looked around. She had no idea where she was, that was how far she’d fled. Around her was a pretty normal scenery – in terms of flora, at least. A forest – trees, bushes. The rock she’d landed her ship below. Nothing unusual. Nothing else.

Giving up on meditation, she stood up and stretched her legs, touching her toes with the tips of her fingers, feeling her blood flow and her skin prickling from it. It hasn’t been that long, but her body ached from the lack of sleep and the brutality of her flying. Deciding to take a walk, the only thing there was to do in a place like this, she jumped from the roof of the ship and landed softly on the muddy ground below, making no sound. Not that there was anyone on this forsaken planet who could hear her.

She took off in a random direction, in search of… not sure, actually. Water? She had plenty. Food? She was never hungry, not anymore, she could do without it for a while, and she had rations.

Solitude? Well. There was an abundance of it, she thought bitterly.

Scowling slightly to herself, she took on just observing and reaching carefully to feel her surroundings. Animals, trees. Calmness.

If only I could somehow transfer it into my mind as well.

After walking aimlessly for a while, she felt sweat building up on her brow, caused more by the humidity of the forest than anything else, and decided to take a break. Putting her cloak on the ground, she sat again, straightened her bruised back and gently stretched her sore body. She felt her heart thump, tried to steady its beating, and let her eyes close, pretending it was just like one of the walks she was famous for taking before.

They always ended up finding her sitting somewhere far away, oftentimes asleep after exhausting herself with walking for hours on end, after a battle. Usually after a particularly heavy one, as this had been her only way to destress, empty her mind. Rest for a while, they used to tell her while carrying her (literally) back; they’d known that in her dreams, she spoke to the fallen, apologized, promised to keep fighting for them. She wasn’t supposed to care so much, but didn’t all of them do? Did not caring save the others? Did it make it easier? Was caring really the worst thing?

Of course she’d cared – they were like her brothers, they lived and died beside her. All of them had slept together, always, like little puppies, with her in the middle. They’d howled when they won and whimpered when they lost. They’d laughed and cried, bled and held on to each other and nothing could tear them apart. Her loyal pack.

She felt her lips forming a little smile. They even called themselves that.

The Wolfpack.

Memories wouldn’t save her, but dreams allowed her to get lost for a while. They let her live in another reality, a past life she missed almost as much as her boys. She remembered her first day joining them – assigned on a special mission, freshly made knight, she’d been wired with adrenaline and nervous as hell. But the moment she had seen them she had known she’d be okay – she’d survive the war. She had found her family at long last.

Then came the moment she had met his gaze, and it was when she’d realized she wasn’t so certain in her path anymore. But – if it had led her here, led her to him – then it must have been the right one.

Glancing up at him, she had seen his scar, the most prominent feature on his face, together with his missing eye. She had reached out to him, the first time of many; had felt his solid presence, his cool demeanor and had known the truth deep in her mind, simple and clear.

He would never betray her.

“Pleased to meet you, Commander…?” she’d heard herself say, her voice trailing, his eyes meeting hers with a steady, brutal honesty of a gaze.

When he had said his name, she had all but laughed. From relief.

He couldn’t have known her mind had been plagued by visions of wolves ever since she could remember, their call guiding her, directing her in finding her way. There was no way he could have known where she came from, who her people were, what her life had been before the war – how the Force had found her, how it made her run away, run wild; he couldn’t have known she’d spent days, weeks, months with the wolves, living among them in the forest, running with them, howling, sleeping below the moonlight and shadows; becoming one of them and learning how to be a part of a pack, how to respect its leader; learning to be a protector, a supplier, a spy, a caretaker. A hunter.

Later on, when she’d eventually told him everything, piece by piece, and had finally borne all her secrets, it had evoked a reaction she found to be not at all surprising, maybe she’d even expected it, that’s why she’d kept silent the first time. She’d kept to herself, meeting his strength with her knowledge of tactics so sternly he had questioned her training many times, as it was vastly different from anything he’d seen before; but the animal inside her had kept its secret, the loneliness of her never let her guard down. But now, when his guard had fallen down at last, and she’d barely blinked before he’d had her in his arms, holding her gently, but devouring her with such viciousness, she’d finally understood why the prey always went limp just before it died. The pleasure of being torn apart, seen from the inside, existing somewhere between life and death, it was unbearable. That’s where she found she’d always wanted to be, and where only he could take her.

She saw him in her dream now, as she had done every night since she’d last seen him in real life. She dreamt of him, stood at attention in a meeting; him, fighting next to her, his back firm and warm against hers; him, shouting at her for disobeying his orders and putting herself at danger, hurting herself; him, running wildly with her in his arms, panicked, begging her to stay alive. Him, touching her face softly, when he was sure no one could see them, his arms setting fire to her body, his eyes burning holes into her soul; him, seeing her for what she truly was. One of them, one of the pack, an equal.

Him, trying to kill her.

She awakened with a start, frantically breathing and looking around, not able to place her surroundings for a second. When she finally did, she tried calming herself, but there was something nagging at her, tugging on her brain, unconsciously forcing her to think. What was it? She probed her surroundings, reaching out in trying to find out what had startled her. A sound? No, it was quiet. A smell?

A presence? Yes.

It’s probably my dream making me nervous. After all, it was not a rare occurrence for her to wake up and be unable to shake off a dream, not when they were so vivid. Especially some of them.

Putting her cloak hastily on, she set off back towards her ship, as the night was quickly falling. She found her way easily enough, but what she didn’t expect was for another ship to be there. And much larger one, at that.

An imperial one.

Mentally cursing herself for being so inadequate as to fall asleep and leave her ship unwatched, her only home as of now, unguarded, she swiftly hid behind a tree. Thankfully, she had managed to land (crashed) in a forest, at least.

She took a deep breath and peeked. The imperials had already spread out, their teams looking both inside and outside her ship. Her ears picked up their buzzy reporting that the vessel seemed to not be operational, but inhabited, so the probability of this being “the fugitive’s” ship was high enough, and take it to the commander, now! Her hands started to sweat. That wasn’t good.

It was even worse when she heard her own name from one of them. They were looking for her, no doubt about that anymore.

And they’d found her.

Stupid, stupid!

She felt panic rising in her stomach, her breath slightly uneven. They had never been able to catch her before, not alone at least. What was she supposed to do? Run? Fight them? There were not that many of them, it wouldn’t be so hard. She’d have to be extremely quick though, she didn’t want their command to arrive and bring reinforcements. Yes, that was probably the best chance she had – fight some or most of them, make her way to the ship and somehow… fly away? With the broken ship. Well, presuming their command didn’t find her for at least—

Her heart stopped.

The imperial transport’s door had opened, and their commander had come outside. So he was here already. There was no mistaking that walk, the way he held himself, the presence he had, palpable in its authority. But there was something else as well, there was more to him.

The scratch on his armor that she all too well remembered giving him herself with her lightsaber, in a desperate attempt to flee. Good soldiers follow orders. She’d succeeded. You’re a traitor.

Apparently, he’d never repaired his armor.

Even without it, she’d have easily known it was him. It felt like her blood froze and her mind exploded, catching up faster with recognizing him than her consciousness could; her heart was beating faster and faster, but it was attuned to his rhythm, for it had always been his. She had had control over her heart for a long time, but now it was gone.

Tears started prickling in her eyes. Seconds ago, she was ready to fight them all to escape, to let her blade slash through them mercilessly, like she knew a wolf’s teeth gnawed at its prey. But now she couldn’t do it.

Not when the only person who’d ever had control over her stood there. Not when her biggest, deepest love was looking for her.

Not when the pack’s leader hunted her.

Not when Wolffe had come for her.

[hwalovs]

A Smuggler and A Jedi 6/?

CHAPTER SIX: THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK

Pairing; Luke Skywalker, Reader / Past Lando Calrissian, Reader Warnings; even more pining, even more angst, MENTION OF TORTURE (Not in detail), minor cursing, negative on that kiss captain.  Word Count; 21.7k 

ONE  TWO  THREE  FOUR  FIVE

Summary;  It is a dark time for the Rebellion. Although the Death Star has been destroyed, Imperial troops have driven the Rebel forces from their hidden base and pursued them across the galaxy. Evading the dreaded Imperial Starfleet, a group of freedom fighters led by Luke Skywalker have established a new secret base on the remote ice world of Hoth. The evil lord Darth Vader, obsessed with finding young Skywalker, has dispatched thousands of remote probes into the far reaches of space....

AN; Sorry for the large gap in posts, I lost inspiration to write this for a bit, but here it is! Not a lot of Luke in this chapter, sadly. Hopefully it isn’t a long time before chapter 7. I’m also trying a new method of splitting sections so let me know what you guys think :D  thank you for reading! I appreciate each and every one of you and I'm grateful for the support :>>

THIS IS NOT EDITED

It was bright outside when Rogue Two landed in the bay, opening the exit ramp to allow other medical droids and doctors in. Han swatted all their hands away, not answering any of their questions as he pushed down his fur laced hood, sniffling. His nose was bright pink, his cheeks a similar color. 

You stood off to the side while Leia ran past, ignoring Han completely to look for Luke. 

“Took you long enough,” you jest, scrunching your nose at the wafting smell of dead Tauntaun.

“Got a little caught up-”

“You smell like a dead Tauntaun.”

He stares at you for a moment before scoffing, shrugging his shoulders, “how else were we supposed to survive?”

You groan, pinching your nose, “that's foul, even for you.”

“They’re taking him to the med wing, after spending time in the bacta tank he should be fine,” Leia sighs, smiling softly. Han nods his head.

“What a welcoming party, Princess, glad to know you care about my well-being.”

She shakes her head, glaring towards him before following the med droids that pushed Luke along on a gurney.

Han places a hand onto your shoulder, giving it a squeeze before sniffling again, “he’ll be fine, no need to get your pants in a twist.”

You glare at him, “you both could have died.”

“But we didn’t!”

“You better apologize to Chewie, he was a wreck without you.”

You didn’t stay long while Luke was in the bacta tank. It was hard to watch, with the cuts on his face and chest slowly sewing themselves back together. He only wore weighted shorts to keep him under the gelatinous slime that was bacta, a breathing apparatus strapped to his face while med droids and doctors scurried around him to make sure he didn’t suddenly flatline. 

Leaning against the wall, you ignore the presence of Han and Leia to your right, their shoulders lightly brushing against each other. Leia was pressing her fingers to her lips, rubbing the skin as she watched the droids work. 

Ever since you woke up yesterday, the days just seemed to get worse and worse. First the Falcon, the ever constant flow of problems from other X-Wings, then the fact Han went after Luke like it was what he’s been preparing for since the day he was born. 

When the droids turn in your group's direction to talk about his vitals, you take it as your time to leave while you can. The last thing you wanted was to hear how Luke was close to death if not for Han. Pushing away the worry, you force yourself down the hallway, passing by lingering pilots and other personnel before finally making it back to the hangar where the Falcon was. 

Chewie was still perched on the wing, swinging his legs back and forth as he messed with the tools. He almost looked small on the Falcon, but as you grew closer, so did his size. 

“Hey, Chewie!” You shout, pausing under his line of sight. He growls, nodding his head in greeting. The hangar was mostly empty, only one or two other pilots visible by their ships. You make your way to the ladder, carefully climbing until you reach the top, stepping over the mess of tools to sit beside him. He hands you a circuit board, waving his hands about as he complains. 

“What, it's not working again?” You ask, using your nail to slowly scrape off the soot from flaming wires. It was dated, a few cycles old by now but it was working fine the last time the ship was in the air. Then again, you can’t seem to place where on the ship the part came from. 

“Which part is this, again?” You look up at the Wookiee, who throws his hands up in annoyance, jerking to point to the open compartment behind you. You nod, crawling over until you can dive head first into the compartment. You feel Chewie grab your ankle, scared of you getting stuck, but you lightly kick away his hand. 

Being in the Falcon gives you a sense of comfort when the galaxy seems against you. It was the best place to be while Han and Leia fought all day, while Luke got himself lost and beaten out in the snowy graveyard they call a planet. 

Chewie’s still talking, his voice muffled through the metal while you look over the other circuit boards and wires. Sticking your hand out, you yell at him to hand you specific tools, and he hands them to you, still talking. 

“I swear I just fixed this,” grumbling, you try and reweld some wires together, effectively connecting them to the now, hopefully, fixed board. 

You don’t leave the Falcon until Han drags you to the medwing. It was a couple hours later, Luke being discharged from the Bacta tank and put into his own room. Han still hasn’t taken a shower, being in a hurry to see Luke before he goes back to sleep. He told you Threepio and R2 were waiting outside his room, while Leia was still talking with the Med-droids. 

“Shouldn’t you shower first?” You cringe, putting Chewie in between you both so you didn’t smell the sour stench.

“I think that Tauntaun did my hair justice, It hasn’t looked this good since Lando gave me that cream.”

You roll your eyes, smiling at the memory, “Lando never did you justice- nothing does your hair justice, Han.”

“I’m offended, (Y/n), really- I am,” he gasps, leaning over to slap your shoulder before entering the room.

Luke looks tired, sitting up in the bed while playing with the stray threads of the thin blanket. He wore an oversized shirt, only pink scars remaining on his face. 

Threepio doesn't hesitate to move past Han, throwing his hands into the air. 

“Master Luke, it's so good to see you fully functional again,” Threepio beams, hands moving about as R2 whistles. 

“How ya’ feeling kid?” Han asks, bending down to look over his face, Chewie placing a hand onto his pillow to softly growl and bark his regards, “you don't look so bad to me. In fact, you look strong enough to pull the ears off a gundark.”

Luke chuckles, his smile not reaching his eyes, “thanks to you.”

You manage to squeeze in between the two before Han points to the younger, narrowing his eyes, “that's two you owe me, junior.”

Reaching a hand, you place two fingers underneath his chin, lifting his head lightly. His smile softens when looking at you, and you can’t help but mirror it. Your thumb barely touches the skin below one scar, brushing across it lightly.

“It was stupid to go out by yourself,” you say. He painfully smiles, shrugging his shoulders. 

“You’re lucky Han was even more stupid to go out after you,” you lightly thumb over the scar under his eye, “but it’ll heal nicely, you’ll be good-to-go in no-time.”

When you pull away to stand, you glare at a smiling Han, who's giving you raised eyebrows and a little shoulder bump. It wasn’t until Leia walked in that Han dropped it, turning to face the Princess. 

“Well your worship, looks like you managed to keep us around a little longer!”

She crosses her arms, haughtily saying, “I had nothing to do with it, General Rieekan thinks it's dangerous for any ship to leave the system until we’ve activated the energy shield.”

Settling onto the foot of the bed, you pinch Luke’s leg, smirking at him when he jerks it away. You look between the arguing pair, their attention solely on each other. 

“That’s a good story, you just can’t let a gorgeous guy like me out of your sight,” Han crosses his arms, leaning against the bed. Luke rolls his eyes, looking at you with raised eyebrows. You shrug, frowning. 

Leia finally sighs, “I don’t know where you get your delusions, laser brain.”

Chewie laughs, holding onto the door frame while lightly jabbing Han’s shoulder. He jumps form his spot clearly enjoying himself, “Laugh it up fuzz-ball, you didn’t see us alone in the south passage.”

“South passage?” You snicker softly, smirking at her while she darts her eyes between you and Luke. You could see him frowning, eyebrows furrowed as his arms crossed over his chest.

Han hums, wrapping one arm around Leia’s shoulder while giving a smug smile, “she expressed her true feelings for me.”

Cheeks pink, Leia looks between the three of you before pulling away, stuttering her words, “my-” finally composing herself, she huffs, “why, you stuck up, half-witted, scruffy looking’- nerf herder!”

“Nerf herder?” You choke, hand covering your mouth to stop yourself from laughing. Han whips around, glaring at her, “who’s scruffy looking’?”

“Han-” you wheeze, almost grabbing his arm but missing as he moves closer to Luke, bending down to his level. 

“I must’ve hit pretty close to the mark to get her all riled up like that, huh, kid?”

You shake your head when you see Leia’s face fall. Her eyes glaze over for just a moment before her shoulders tense, arms dropping to her sides as she marches closer. When you try and grab her arm, she yanks if from your grip harshly, your smile diminishing.

“Well,” she scoffs, looking up at Han with a glare, “I guess you don’t know everything about women yet?”

With that, she leans forwards and grabs Luke’ cheeks, planting her lips on his. It goes silent, Threepio stepping forwards to see, looking at Han, and then you. Mouth parting, you find it hard to breathe all of a sudden, a crushing weight in your chest overtaking the once light hearted feeling. 

Han stares with wide eyes, arms still crossed when Leia pulls away, looking directly at him before leaving the room. He stares at Luke, who was still dumbstruck, and when he looks at you his eyes soften. His arms slowly drop to his sides but you can’t stop staring at Luke. 

He doesn’t look back, just closes his eyes and proudly puts his hands behind his head, sighing in contentment. Your mind seemed to run miles a minute, while also being oddly silent. Maybe it was the smug look he gave to Han, or the way he completely ignored your presence the moment Leia had kissed him. 

You wouldn’t have noticed the pounding in your ears if it wasn’t for the alarm going off in the hall, Han lightly grabbing your arms to pull you along. Luke looks at you, frowning when he sees the glare Han sends him, who lightly pats his chest, “take it easy, kid.”

“Headquarters personnel, report to command center”

“What-” Luke tries to grab your hand, to ask what was wrong, but you’re just out of reach. When he blinks, you’re already gone.

Han and Chewie silently walk beside you towards the control center, your ears still ringing. 

“(Y/n)-”

You hold up a hand, glaring over your shoulder, “I don’t want to hear it. It’s fine- I’m fine.”

The walk to the control center didn’t give you enough time to center yourself, trying with all you had to scrub the image from your mind. Rieekan nodded to you both as you walked to the console screen, Chewie peering over your shoulders. 

“Princess, we have a visitor,” he says, gesturing for her to come over. You didn’t want to see her, at least for the rest of the day. Rieekan points to the screen another officer was stationed, “we’ve picked up something outside the base in zone twelve, moving east.”

The senior controller looks up, his headphones only covering one ear, “It's metal.”

Leia was already there, arms crossed as she looked down at the console. Stuffing her hands into her back pockets, head tilting to get a good look at the screen, “then it couldn’t be one of those creatures.”

“Could be one of our speeders,” you choke, clearing your throat. 

The senior controller shakes his head, “no. Wait- there's something very weak coming through.”

You all lean in slightly to try and make out the garbled text, but Threepio steps forwards, raising a hand. 

“Sir, I am fluent in six-million forms of communication. This signal is not used by the Alliance. It could be an Imperial Code.” 

The transmission quickly cut off, leaving your small group in silence. Rieekan takes a moment to look between the three of you, Chewie also looking over the group, and you knew he couldn’t help but notice the tension that was slowly building up.

Han huffs, hands on his hips, “well, whatever it is, it isn’t friendly, common, Chewie- (Y/n), let’s check it out.”

“General, send Rouges Ten and Eleven to station three-eight,” Rieekan nods, pushing himself away from the console. 

“Remind me, when we get back, to never leave the Falcon,” you strain, trudging through the snow with your thick boots. The fur lining of your jacket gets stuck between your lips, and your blaster is freezing in your hand, even though you had thick gloves on. 

“You’re starting to sound like me,” Han jests, crouching behind a snow bank. There was a high-pitched beeping from the other side, and when you peer over, you finally see what was making the garbled transmission. 

It was a small probe droid, floating just a few feet above the snow. Its head continued to rotate slowly, and when its antennas slowly raised, it let out piercing signals before moving on. It was fully black, except for the bright red eye on its front. The Empire's sigil painted on its side, almost too small to see.

“Definitely Imperial,” you grumble, shuffling back down the bank as Han looks over his blaster once more. You were just waiting on Chewie now, who was making his way around to create a distraction. Then, you and Han would shoot it down. 

Han’s eyebrows were furrowed, grumbling softly under his breath, and it was almost drowned out by the wind, but you managed to catch snippets. 

“I’m sure the Princess feels the same way, would you stop drowning yourself over it?”

“Now's not the time for this,” he says. It's silent for a few more moments, then his head snaps in your direction, “how could she, when she kisses another guy in front of me? And what about your pouting about the kid, huh? Doesn’t seem like I’m the only one upset.”

“I’d rather not talk about it right now, Han.”

“You’re the one who brought it up!” He’s teasing you now, the corners of his lips upturning as he reaches out to slap the top of your jacket. 

“If you actually talked to Luke like I told you to months ago, we wouldn’t be in this predicament, now would we?”

“There’s nothing for us to talk about,” you snap, glaring over at him. He’s still smiling, and when he raises a finger at you, your head drops back against the snow bank.

“I know that look, you’re not slick like you think you are.”

Chewie finally making a distraction cuts you short, and you both dive back over the snow to fire at the droid. Its attention was fully on Chewie, and it allowed for you to shoot right at its most vulnerable spot. It sharply spins, managing to fire at the bank of snow before Han manages to get a few shots in, the entire droid blowing into pieces. Sending a look to Han, you both make your way over the bank to inspect the destroyed metal. Chewie meets you, bending down to try and touch it, but it is still smoking. 

Han sighs, lifting his com, “We’ve got the problem.”

“What is it?” Leia’s voice cuts back not too long after. 

“Appears to be a droid of some kind, I didn’t hit it that hard, I must have self-destructed.”

You look back over the snow, wondering how many others were there. Squinting your eyes, you look back towards the base, seeing the closed hanger doors. One one was open, allowing you in and out. 

“An Imperial Probe Droid.”

Scoffing, you shake your head, Han shares your look, “No doubt the Empire knows we’re here.”

There's a pause from the other end, and this time it's Rieekan’s voice that cuts through, “Make your way back, we’re starting evacuation.”

“Evac? Already?” You ask, getting no response from Rieekan or Leia. Han gently grabs the fabric of your jacket, pulling you back towards the base. 

“I thought you knew nowhere was safe for us at this point, kid.”

The snow crunches under your boots, and the wind now blows harshly against your cheeks.

“Yeah, well. Sorry for thinking we were safe on a snowy-death-planet in the middle of nowhere.”

When you make it back to base, you take off the thick jacket, exchanging it for your more comfortable leather one. You, Han, and Chewie now worked on the remaining broken bits of the Falcon, doing your best to get it in the air as fast as you could. Evacuation was starting slow, people still packing up tools and equipment to store onto the ships. 

“Would you please put the helmet on right?!” You groan, watching from the ground as Han only lifted the mask to his face. Chewie was in the cockpit, and Han continued to work on the remaining bits that didn’t allow the Falcon to fly. Han waves a hand in your direction, standing as he drops the mask to his side. 

“Alright! Let's try it!”

When Chewie starts the Falcon, however, the whole compartment Han was fixing burst into flame, an alarm going off when the smoke rose. Han, frantic, yells out to Chewie, “Turn it off! Off!”

After turning it off, Chewie leaves the Falcon to tend to one of the landing gears, ruffling your hair as he passes. Han was talking with one of the repair droids, and you continued work on more wiring by the broken landing gear. 

Turning to exchange your tools with ones you hoped would work, you heard Luke’s voice again, or rather, his laughter as Chewie growled and barked. When you turn back, you take a deep breath when you see him. The last time was when he just got out of the bacta tank, when Leia kissed him. 

Luke doesn’t notice you yet, turning to look up at Han, who stood leaned up against one of the Falcons wings. He wore a flight suit, his helmet in one hand as he spoke to Han. The two didn’t need to say much to get what they wanted to say across. 

It wasn’t until he turned to leave did he see you, and he stopped. There's a nervous look in his eyes when he walks to you, and you only tilt your head. 

“I don’t think you’re evacuating with everyone else,” you say softly, watching his soft eyes flicker between yours.

“They need me out there,” there's hesitation in his voice, hands fumbling with his helmet before continuing, “About what happened-”

“We’ll talk when you get back, okay?”

He sighs heavily, eyes clenching shut before he reaches forwards, grabbing your hand with his free one. 

“It’s important to me, I don’t want-”

“Luke,” you can't help but interrupt, and by the look he has, you were scared at what he was going to say.

Giving a strained smile, you squeeze his hand in comfort, “we’ll talk later.”

He doesn’t say anything else, just nods and begins to pull away. There's still that uncertain look in his eyes, and it makes your heart throb. 

“Don’t do anything stupid, blondie.”

Just nodding, Luke turns and makes his way into the hangar. No doubt going to help the others in the Rogue squadron before going anywhere else. 

“(Y/n)! I could use some help up here!”

“Yeah, yeah,” you grumble, making your way up the ladder. Han was crouched over one of the landing gear components, and Chewie was bending himself in half to fix the remaining parts of the wing.

“What is it?”

He throws one of the tools your way, and you catch it, crouching down next to him to rework damaged wires. 

“Did you tell him?”

You throw him a glare, “did you tell her?”

Chewie barks and you watch as he shakes his head. 

“No, Chewie, you need to rework the wires so we can get her back in the air!”

There was an explosion, and Han grabbed your arm, both of you looking to the slowly cracking ceiling. 

“Well, that doesn’t look too good,” you grumble, trying to get your cold hands to work faster. After the wing was done, you would be able to evacuate and rendezvous with Leia and the others. 

You both work in silence, trying to finish the gear before the Empire bursts through the ceiling. Sweating under your jacket, your shaking hands continue to thread the wires. It wasn’t a beautiful job, but it would hold until you were in a safe place, then you would be able to thoroughly fix it. 

“No, Chewie!” Han pushes himself up, throwing the tool down, “that one goes here, that one there, right?”

“Would you stop bickering! We don’t have time for this!” You shout, covering your head when the base is hit once more, snow falling from the ceiling. It smacks against the wings, ice sprinkling over your shoulders. 

“Where's the princess?” You ask.

“Probably still in the control room, I’ll get her to the transport, you two keep working.”

“Han!” You throw the tools down, the wires finished, “Hurry, we won't leave without you.”

“I’m always quick!”

You turn back to Chewie, nodding, “come on, let’s close everything up. Hopefully-” you scrunch your eyebrows, patting the ship lightly, “she’ll actually start.”

Chewie barks, waiting until you climb down the ladder. The panels were shut and screwed back into place, the tools discarded in the snow as you rushed onto the ship, turning into the small closet that held the inner workings. 

“Alright baby,” you whisper, eyes frantically moving, “let me hear you, yeah?”

Your fingers were freezing, almost having lost feeling. It doesn't stop you from reworking the wires, checking the diagnostic from the panel on the wall. You can faintly hear Chewie bark, yelling out the entry ramp before he rushes onto the falcon. 

“Hurry up, goldenrod! Or you’ll be a permanent resident!” Han shouts, going straight to you. 

“How’s it looking?”

“I don’t know! In reality she needs to be on for me to actually fix this stuff!”

Chewie shuts the entry ramp, rushing into the cock-pit. There's another explosion in the hangar, the entire ship shaking as ice crashes onto the roof. Han is busy at the control panel, yelling to you in hopes of getting the ship to start. 

“How’s this?!” He yells, and suddenly you're being sprayed with smoke. Yelping, you shout at him to turn it off, Chewie barking negatively from the cock-pit. Finally leaving the small closet, you join Han at the panel, looking over the multitude of buttons and switches. 

“Try that one,” you say before rushing back. This time, nothing bad happens, and you take it as a win. 

“Would it help if I got out and pushed?” Leia asks sarcastically, Han glaring at her, “it might!”

Threepio makes his way over, hand raised, “Captain Solo! Captain Solo! Might I suggest that-”

Han cuts him off, glaring at the droid with deadly eyes and a raised finger. 

“It can wait.”

Following Han into the cock-pit, you flip the necessary buttons before sitting down in your chair, spinning to raise the deflector shields. 

“This bucket of bolts is never going to get us past that blockade.” Leia hisses, watching Han move around the small space. 

“This baby’s got a few surprises left in her, sweetheart.”

Looking out the window, you spot multiple Stormtroopers rushing into the hanger. Looking at Han with wide eyes, you slap his arm, “we need to go! Stormtrooper’s are coming in!”

Swinging back around, you pull down on a small lever by your feet, a turret dropping from under the wing. Aiming it, you shoot towards the Troopers, all of them scrambling around to find cover. 

Leia straps in next to you, and Han in his seat. Chewie runs in seconds later, strapping himself in while Han starts the Falcon.

“Come on! Switch over,” he calls to Chewie, “let's hope we don't have a burnout.”

A blaster bolts hits the windshield right by Chewie’s head, the Wookiee yelping as he pulls back on the controls. The engine finally fires and a giant smile crawls onto Hans’ face, his head turning to briefly look at Leia. 

“See?”

“Someday you’re going to be wrong, and I hope I’m there to see it.”

“Let's go!” You shout, pulling the turret back into the ship, kicking Han’s seat, “punch it!”

He didn’t need to be told twice, accelerating out of the hangar. Staying close to the ground, Han waits until he’s a bit further away form the base to make his way out of the atmosphere. But of course, the blockade is waiting. The ship wouldn’t be able to survive any of the firepower from the Star destroyers, so he would have to weave his way through. 

Chewie lets out a howl, and Han quickly checks over the panel before nodding, “I see them.”

“See what?!” Leia asks, hands gripping onto the seat. You continuously checked the state of the Falcon from what was around you, and it didn’t look good. You can hear, and feel, the oncoming fire from the Tie’s on your tail. 

“Two Star Destroyers, coming right at us.”

You can hear Threepio bang and stumble his way into the Falcon, holding onto the door frame for stability. 

“Sir! Sir!” He cries, “Might I suggest-”

Han doesn’t let him finish, again, turning sharply to point at Leia, “shut him up or shut him down!” He turns back to Chewie, sweat running down his temple, “check the deflector shields.”

Readjusting an overhead switch, Chewie barks his reply, causing Han to sigh, “Well great, we can still outmaneuver them.”

This catches your attention, leaning out into the small space between the seats, “what did he say?”

“The shields are down-”

“What!?”

“It's fine! You’re flying with the greatest pilot to ever live!”

Suddenly, Han changes course. The Falcon starts to fly in the direction of two Star Destroyers, before taking a steep nose dive. Yelping, you and Leia try to stabilize yourself, grabbing onto whatever you could as Han flies recklessly. 

“Kriff! Han! I’m gonna kill you!”

From above, the now three Star Destroyers try to maneuver away from each other, and it almost seems like they collide into each other. 

“Prepare to make the jump to light-speed,” Han growls, trying to dodge more of the blaster fire from the oncoming Tie’s.

“But Sir!” Threepio cries, picking himself up from the floor. 

Leia pulls herself in between your seats, eyebrows scrunched, “they’re getting closer!”

“Oh yeah?” Han taunts, rolling his shoulders as he grabs the lever for light-speed, “watch this.”

He presses forwards, but nothing happens. The Falcon only produces a soft whine, your stomach sinks, and you watch with wide eyes as Han looks between you and Chewie. 

“Watch what?” Leia asks, rocking back into her seat when the ship jerks. 

“I think we’re in trouble,” you say softly, and when Han tries it again, the engine stalls. 

“Sir,” Threepio says, “If I may say so, I noticed that the hyperdrive motivator has been damaged. It's impossible for us to go to light speed!”

“We’re in trouble.”

Unbuckling your belt, you follow Han into the main hold, “what's your plan now, Han!” You yell, watching him frantically move about the different panels. He falls to his knees, unlocking the floor panel. It was heavy, and he was barely able to lift it. 

“No clue! Just get up there and fly this ship before we get shot out of space!”

“Kriffing hell,” you grumble, turning back and running to the cockpit. Chewie meets you in the doorway, lightly grabbing your arms before you fall. He growls, motioning behind you before letting go to join Han.

Falling down into his seat, you glance at Leia as she sits beside you, staring at the radar. 

“They’re hot on us,” she says.

Scoffing, you try and maneuver around bolts, but some still manage to hit, “oh really? I thought we lost them!”

The ship shakes once more, “you know how to fly this hunk of junk?”

“I’ve flown it long before Han even knew she existed-” you say, glaring her way before turning sharply, narrowly missing an asteroid. Hissing, you briefly glance at the radar before staring ahead, sighing. 

“That doesn't look too good.”

Leia looks like she’s about to say something, but you point out in front, her eyes following. Ahead of the ship was a wide field of asteroids, the belt spanning across the entire windshield of the Falcon. 

You don’t see the asteroid that looms next to the falcon, yelping when the ship lurches on impact. 

“Get Han up here, “ you stress, looking at her when she doesn’t move, “now!”

“Han!” she calls over the com, “get up here!”

It didn’t take long for Chewie and Han to appear back in the cock-pit, you and Leia both moving out of the way so they could sit. Han whistles slowly, scanning the field before driving into it. He was mad, you thought. Or, he's always been mad and now it's finally showing. 

“Chewie, set two-seven-one.”

Standing behind the Wookiee, you grab onto his seat for support. 

“You’re not actually going into the asteroid field, right?”

Han only scoffs, “they’d be crazy to follow us, wouldn’t they?”

There's a thump against the hold, and you and Leia both wince. Threepio stands behind Han, his golden head shaking back and forth, “Sir, the possibility of successfully navigating an asteroid field is approximately three-thousand, seven hundred and twenty to one!”

“Never tell me the odds!” Han growls

The Falcon turns into the belt, now going against the large, looming rocks. Han bobs and weaves through them, stark silent as he piloted. Threepio keeps yelping when one comes too close, shielding his eyes when two collide into each other, smaller rocks scattering across and Han doesn’t hesitate to fly through it. The ship rocks violently, forcing you and Leia to sit back and buckle yourselves in. 

“You said you wanted to be around when I made a mistake; well, this could be it, sweetheart.”

Leia shakes her head, “Well I take it back, we’re going to get pulverized if we stay out here much longer.”

“Pulverized?” Threepio echo's softly. 

“I should’ve stayed back on Hoth-” you wheeze, clenching your eyes shut when two asteroids collide into each other. 

Ignoring you, Han cocks his head, “I’m going in closer to one of the big ones.”

“Closer?!” You exclaim, Leia following. 

The large rock floats into view, Han piloting down near the surface until dipping down into a large crater, following it into a small ravine, two Tie’s follow closely. 

“We’re going to die,” you wince, shutting your eyes tightly as the end comes closer. Han shakes his head, “no we’re not!” 

Sharply jerking the ship, it easily slips through onto its side. The ravine went into another crater, Han pulling the ship out of it without any Tie’s following. 

“Oh, this is suicide! There's nowhere to go!” Threepio shouts, hysterical by now. 

“There. That looks pretty good,” Han murmurs, pointing to a large hole. 

“What looks pretty good?” You ask, pulling yourself back up after undoing your belt, following Han’s finger until you spot it. 

“Excuse me, ma'am, where are we going?” Threepio asks, but you don't reply. Watching as the Falcon dives into it. 

The cave is almost pitch black, the lights in the cock-pit the only source of light. 

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Leia says softly, hands grabbing the back of his seat. 

“Yeah,” he replies with a frown, “me too.”

There's a small opening off to the side, and Han carefully sets down the Falcon, slouching into his seat before getting up, leaving the cockpit while grumbling profanities under his breath. Looking out the windshield, you can’t tell how big the cave was since it was pitch black. Chewie flicks on the lights, illuminating a wall of fog that rested over the ground. 

When Han enters the cockpit once more, he and Chewie make haste by turning off all the electronics. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see the worried look on Leia’s face as she watches him. 

“I’m going to shut down everything but the emergency power systems,” Han says, leaning by your side to flip more switches. You give him a side-eye, biting the inside of your cheek. The cave was making your stomach twist uncomfortably, and you didn’t think it was from how dark it was. 

“Does that mean shutting me down too?” Threepio asks, raising his hand. Chewie immediately barks, and you chuckle at the enthusiasm behind it. Blinking to get your eyes to adjust when more lights begin to flicker off in the cockpit. 

Han sighs, “no, I need you to talk to the Falcon, find out what's wrong with the hyperdrive.”

Suddenly, the ship lurches, causing all loose-items to fall. Leia and Chewie grab onto the chairs, while Han catches Threepio. You clutch onto the steering components, waiting until the ship is stable again before kissing your teeth. 

“I think we’re in trouble-”

“Aren’t we always?” Han gripes, worriedly looking out the front towards the fog, glancing down at you with pursed lips. 

“Sir, it's quite possible this asteroid is not entirely stable.”

You spin around with wide eyes, “oh really? Well aren’t I happy you’re here to tell us these things!”

“(Y/n), why don't you and Chewie take the professor to the back and plug him into the hyperdrive?”

Huffing, you throw your hands up while walking out of the cockpit, hearing Chewie and Threepio following. The droid's voice filling the corridor. 

“Oh! Sometimes I just don't understand human behavior. After all, I’m only trying to do my job-” He gets cut off, the Falcon lurching to the side once more, sending you straight into the wall. Chewie barks, rubbing his arms before nodding towards you. Nodding, you rub at your side before continuing. 

“Where exactly is the Hyperdrive, Madam?” Threepio asks timidly. Smiling, you glance back at him, leading him to the Control Panel in the Main hold. 

 You could map out the inside of the Falcon like the palm of your hand. You’ve been with her since her seats were white, since her stereo system worked and when the giant closet in Hans’ room was filled to the brim with different capes. 

Flipping more switches, you allow Threepio to look over it, “the Hyperdrive is in the back of the Engine room, under the flooring. It's too small to fit in there with it, so you’ll have to connect to her from out here.”

“I see, thank you, Madam (Y/n).”

After patting his metal arm, you assess the damage in the Main Hold. Chewie opens the ceiling, pulling himself up into the forest of wires while you look over the closet of wires you were in before leaving Hoth. It was worse than before, sparking every second while others hung broken, screws and bolts littering the floor. 

“Kriff- I just fixed that, too,” you mumble, kicking away some of the bolts before getting close to the wires, squinting your eyes when some of the sparks land on your cheek. 

Threepio begins whistling to the panel, it responding before he sighs, flipping another switch before trying again. Chewie holds a hand out the ceiling panel, barking and growling. You walk over, hands on your hips. 

“Oh, where is R2 when I need him?” Threepio huffs. 

Han rushes through the hold just then, brushing past you to the small cabinet with various wires and tools. 

Threepio turns to him, “Sir, I don’t know where your ship learned to communicate, but it has the most peculiar dialect.”

Looking over your shoulder, you watch as Han stands beside the droid, looking over the screens with him. 

“I believe, sir, it says that the power coupling on the negative axis has been polarized. I’m afraid you’ll have to replace it. 

Scoffing, Han shifts the bundled cord in his hands, moving the screen slightly. 

“Well, of course I’ll have to replace it.” Han says sarcastically, walking over to hand Chewie the rolled wire from where he was in the ceiling. 

“Here!” He calls up. Bumping shoulders with him, you jerk your head back towards Threepio, smiling when Han rolls his eyes and turns back, “and Chewie!”

Han waits until Chewie’s head peers down, lowering his voice so it was only heard between the three of you, “I think we’d better replace that negative power coupling.”

Chuckling, you watch Han turn to leave, seeing Leia struggling with a valve she must have been welding. It seemed to be stuck, and you watched with a small smile as Han went to help her, his body blocking your view. 

“Chewie?” you call softly, hearing him whine. “Do you need anything else? I need to get back to the wire closet.”

His head pops back over the side, and he once more points to a tool that was on the floor. Bending you pick it up, hearing Threepio cheering to himself, handing the tool up to him before turning and making your way back to the wires. With a huff, you pat your pockets for your gloves, cursing when you can’t find them. 

Turning, you search the floor for them, and sigh when you find one, but not the other. Sliding on the one you found, you return to mending the wires to where they belong, slowly putting the Falcon back together. 

“Sir! Sir!” Threepio cheers, wobbling past you, “I’ve isolated the reverse power flux coupling!”

You later find Leia sitting in the cockpit, the only light in the room was from the indicators on the control panel in front of her. She sat in Chewie’s chair, lightly dragging her finger across the steering controls. 

Her head spins when the door slides open, lips parting when she sees you. Neither of you had the time to talk since landing. Her and Han seemed to, judging by the way his eyebrows were furrowed and he was drowning himself in repairs. 

“Sorry,” you murmur, walking in the grab the rag Han uses to wipe away soot and grease. 

Leia leans up, grabbing lightly onto your sleeve. Looking at her, you raise an eyebrow. She seems to be deep in thought, and after clearing her throat, she lets you go. 

“I was hoping to talk to you, after what happened-”

Your stomach tightens again, and you lick your lips, “I’d rather not.” You stress, looking anywhere but at her. 

She clenches her hand, resting it back in her lap while turning the chair further in your direction. The distant sound of blaster fire hitting the asteroids, it reminds you to get back to repairs.  

“Look,” she starts, “I wanted to apologize for kissing Luke, I know-”

“You know what?” You cut her off again, tilting your head. Her mouth shuts, looking back out at the vast darkness while you let your thoughts get the better of you. 

Why was she apologizing? 

“I thought we were friends, Leia,” you say softly, watching her lips slowly form into a frown. Sighing, you sit in Hans’ chair, looking out at the darkness. You feel her eyes on you, but you refrain from meeting them. Your eyes are hot, and you find that you can’t remember the last time you talked about your feelings with another woman. 

“We are friends- It was a mistake, and I regretted it the moment after. Han just makes me so mad that I can’t think straight,” she huffs, rubbing at her cheeks while leaning her elbows onto her knees. Smiling, you bite the inside of your cheek. 

You don't know what you’re looking at, but when there’s movement out of the corner of your eye, you decide that this conversation can wait until later. Stilling, you reach over to grab her wrist, stopping her from talking. 

“I saw something,” you whisper, intently watching the darkness for any other movement. Leia grips your hand, also watching. Then it happened again, a form scurrying past the windshield and back into the darkness. Both of you lean forwards in your seats, slowly beginning to stand to lean closer, waiting with bated breaths. 

Suddenly, whatever creature it was latches onto the thick glass, beady eyes twitching every which way while its thick white saliva coated its teeth. There were spines around its mouth, and it released a high pitched screech before letting go, disappearing just as fast as it appeared. 

Leia screams, almost falling back against the floor if it wasn’t for your iron grip on her hand. You're frozen, waiting until the creature disappears before letting Leia drag you from the cockpit. 

Both of you were breathing heavily when entering the Main Hold, Threepio was turned towards Han and Chewie, who wore black goggles and were welding parts back into the frame of the Falcon. Leia let go, choosing to step towards Han while you continued looking around, wondering if there were more creatures. 

“There's something out there,” she states. Han and Chewie both pull off their goggles, Han furrowing his eyebrows while watching her. 

“Where?”

Leia jerks her head towards the Ramp, “outside, in the cave.”

It wasn’t until something started banging on the top of the Falcon that he stood at his full height, fully pulling off the goggles. Chewie barks anxiously and Threepio turns towards you, “there it is! Listen!”

“I’m going out there,” he says, passing by Leia in a rush to grab an oxygen mask on the back of the couch. 

“Well, wait for me!” You call, also grabbing a mask. Han sends you a glare, stopping to turn towards you, “you should stay on the ship-”

“And let you have all the fun? Absolutely not.”

“Are you both crazy?” Leia yells, rushing after the both of you, Chewie hot on her tail. 

Han throws back, “I just got this bucket back together, I’m not gonna let something tear it apart!”

As the exit ramp lowers, both you and Han make your way down it, stopping at the edge until it settles onto the ground. The mask was uncomfortable on your face, the tube that connected the mask to the oxygen box that was strapped to your belt made it hard to turn in some ways. It was extremely foggy, and it was hard for you to distinguish anything. Squinting, you walk around Han and finally step foot into the fog. The grounded squishes under your boots, making you grimace. 

“Gross.”

Leia follows behind Han, both taking tentative steps on the surface before joining you in searching for the strange creature. It looked so familiar to you, but you can’t place your finger on it. 

“The ground sure feels strange,” Leia says into the coms, her voice crackling into your ear piece. “It doesn’t feel like rock, at all.”

Han ducks to look under the Falcon, and you can faintly see Chewie go around the other side. Your palm sat against your blaster, which was still sitting in its holster, prepared to shoot at anything hostile. 

“There’s an awful lot of moisture in here,” Han comments, turning to look back at you. You still stood by the ramp, staring out into the darkness. It made you uneasy, how dark it was around you. Usually, cave systems would have dripping water, the sound of different creatures that lived in the dark and the reflection of the light from outside giving just a semblance of light. But it was pitch black, and you couldn’t hear anything. 

“I have a bad feeling about this,” you wince, turning to follow Han and Leia who were rounding to the front of the ship. 

“Yeah, me too.” Han grumbles. 

There's a hiss, and both you and Han draw your blasters, pointing towards the sound. Han makes the first shot, shooting down whatever was latched onto the bottom of the Cockpit’s windows. 

“Watch out!” 

Chewie growls, running from the other side of the Falcon, crossbow in hand, to look over the creature. Grabbing Leia’s elbow, you squint to try and see it, but its body was covered in the thick fog. 

“That’s what I thought- Mynocks,” Han sighs, waving towards Chewie, “Chewie, check the rest of the ship, make sure there aren’t any more attached, they’re chewing on the power cords.”

“Mynocks?”

“Annoying creatures that live in asteroids,” you respond, watching Leia’s face contort into disgust.

“They like to eat ships’ power supply-”

“(y/n), go inside with Leia, we’ll see if there's any more on the ship.”

Scoffing, you turn towards the ramp, rolling your eyes, “You just wanna have all the fun!”

“Oh yeah, killing Mynocks is my favorite pastime!”

When stepping towards the ramp, you’re suddenly overcome with multiple Mynocks, all letting their wings brush over the top of your head. Leia brought her arms up in defense, screaming out while you tried to bat them away, then shooting your blaster, hitting one down.

“Han!” Leia screams, running onto the ship while you continue shooting. Han and Chewie begin to as well, and the cave begins to move once more. Almost knocking you off of your feet, your hand grabbing the side of the Falcon. When the cave does move, the Mynocks all disappear, but you can still hear their whistling voices from the darkness.  

Han gives you a look, his eyebrows furrowed while his eyes scanned the fog. 

“Wait a minute,” he says, looking around once more before shooting into the mushy ground. The cave begins to move once more, throwing you once again off balance. Leia tries to grab onto one of the ramps’ pistons, but she almost falls over. Han rushes to her side, grabbing her waist and pushing her onto the Falcon while reaching out a hand towards you. Grabbing it, you let him drag you inside while you look around for Chewie, who was running to follow. 

“Common, Chewie!”

Inside, you all struggle to stay stable in the shuddering Falcon, but Chewie manages to close to hatch and tear off the mask, rushing towards the Cockpit. Han, followed by you and Threepio, runs into the Main Hold to look over the scopes on the Control Panel.

“All right, let's get out of here!”

Chewie growls, and you follow after Han. 

“The Empire is still out there! I don’t think it's wise-”

Han interrupts her, running to the cockpit, “There’s no time to discuss this in committee.”

Glancing at Threepio to make sure he’s fine, you follow after, discarding your mask onto the couch while trying not to fall. 

“I am not a committee!” Leia growls, following after him. Chewie is already in his seat, starting the Falcon when you all enter. Throwing yourself into your seat, you buckle in and grab onto Leia’s wrist, but she only spares you a glance. 

Han makes quick work in pulling back the throttle, the cave just just beginning to settle. 

“You can’t make the jump to lightspeed in an asteroid field!”

“Sit down, sweetheart, we’re taking off.”

The shaking finally stops when you’re in the air, and you can hear Threepio entering the Cockpit. Chewie barks, looking at the end of the cave, and you have to lean forwards in your seat to see it. 

At the end of the long tunnel, it looks like the cave begins to collapse. 

“Maker, that’s definitely not good,” you say, hearing Chewie grumble. 

Threepio lifts an arm, “Look! Look!”

“I see it,” Han stresses. Suddenly, a row of jagged white stalagmites and stalactites can be seen surrounding the entrance.  And as the Falcon moves forward, the entrance to the cave grows ever smaller.  Han pulls hard on the throttle, the ship surging forward.

“We’re doomed!” Threepio cries, and you bite the inside of your cheek. 

“The cave is collapsing,” Leia says, leaning down in between Han and Chewie’s seats. 

“This isn’t a cave,” you say, watching her head snap to you with wide eyes. 

“What?” She asks, looking back at the entrance. The rocks aren’t rocks at all, but teeth, which were quickly closing in on the ship. Chewie howls, and Han curses. He yanks the steering, the ship tilting onto its side to slide past the gaps in the teeth, flying into the asteroid field once more. 

It doesn’t take long for The Empire to catch up with you, and soon a large Star Destroyer is hot on your tail, flak hitting the sides of the Falcon, rocking it. Han does his best to correct the angle of the ship, and while Leia watches intently out the front, your eyes are glued to the tracking scope next to you. 

“We’re coming out of the field,” you say, Threepio cheering at your side. 

“Oh, thank goodness!”

There's another large hit to the Falcon, and you can hear something explode from the back, causing Chewie to bark. 

“Let’s get out of here.” Han states, glancing at Chewie, who was beginning to flip switches, “ready for lightspeed? One, two, three!-”

When he pulls back on the hyperspace throttle, nothing happens, Han groans. 

“It's not fair!” He sounds frantic. Chewie begins to growl and bark, throwing his hands up after bashing the control panel. Leia groans softly, rubbing her eyes harshly while slouching in her seat. 

“What did you do?!” You yell, pushing past Chewie’s arm to frantically look over the controls. Han glares, “Transfer circuits aren’t working, it's not my fault!”

Leia leans over, “no lightspeed?”

Han turns his chair, his eyebrows tight, “it’s not my fault!”

More flak hits the ship, and Han does his best to steer away. 

“Sir,” Threepio says from behind you, “we’ve just lost the main rear deflector shield, one more hit on the back quarter and we’re done for.”

There's a moment of silence, Han staring down at the levers before nodding his head once, pulling back and turning towards Chewie.

“Turn her around.”

“What?!” You yell, Chewie barking in puzzlement, both of you staring at him. He gets up from his seat, pointing at the Wookiee, “I said turn her around! I’m going to put all power in the front shield!”

He flips almost switch before sitting back down in his seat. 

“You’re going to attack them?” Leia asks, you smacking his arm, “that’s the worst decision by far!”

“Sir, the odds of surviving a direct assault on an Imperial Star Destroyer-”

Both you and Leia interrupt him, “Shut up!” 

 The Falcon banks, making a steep turn before heading straight towards the Star Destroyer, bobbing and weaving to dodge the flak bursts. The ship narrowly misses the bridge window, before Han turns towards Chewie, pointing to his side. 

“Engage the landing claw!”

Chewie does, and the Falcon is now clinging to the Destroyer, Han shutting off all power before freezing, watching the other Destroyers in the area. 

“We should be invisible now,” he says softly, glancing at you and Chewie. 

There's a few minutes of silence, before Threepio throws his hands up. 

“Captain Solo, this time you’ve gone too far!” Chewie cuts him off, but Threepio only waves his way, “no, I will not be quiet, Chewbacca. Why doesn’t anyone listen to me?”

Han points to the Destroyers, “the fleets starting to break up. Go back and stand by the manual release for the landing claw.” Chewie nods, barking. He struggles to stand from his seat, walking out of the Cockpit. 

Threepio speaks again, “I really don't see how that is going to help. Surrender is a perfectly acceptable alternative in extreme circumstances-”

You’ve stood up by then, sitting Threepio down in your seat before turning to Leia, raising your eyebrows while gesturing towards Threepio. She sighs, reaching forwards to turn him off. Han sighs, nodding his head, “thank you.”

Standing in the doorway, you watch Leia move closer to Han, who was still watching the fleet. 

“So what’s the next move?”

Han only glances her way, “well, if they follow standard Imperial procedure, they’ll dump their grange before going to lightspeed. Then, we’ll just float away.”

You cross your arms, watching the two interact. 

“With the rest of the garbage, then what?”

“Then, we’ve got to find a safe port around here, got any ideas?” He finally turns to look at you after turning on the computer map screen, you shake your head. 

“No. Where are we?” Leia asks. 

“The Anoat system.”

Leia grimaces, “Anoat system. There’s not much there.”

“Well- wait, this is interesting,” he turns to look at you with raised eyebrows, “Lando.”

You chuckle, letting your head fall back against the door frame, groaning softly. 

Leia looks between you both for a moment, “Lando system?”

“Lando’s not a system,” you correct her, “he’s a man, Lando Calrissian.” smiling, you look back at her, “he’s a card player, gambler, scoundrel-”

“You’d like him,” Han cuts in with a smile. 

“Thanks,” she grumbles. 

Han rests his fist against his chin, watching the computer screen.

“Bespin. It’s pretty far, but I’m sure we can make it.”

Nodding, you push away from the door frame, leaning over Leia’s shoulder. 

“A mining colony?” She asks, tilting her head to look at you. 

“Yeah,” Han confirms, “a Tibanna gas mine. Must have conned somebody out of it, we go back a long way- Lando and us,” he nods towards you. 

“Can you trust him?”

You laugh, shaking your head, “absolutely not, but he has no love for The Empire.”

Sitting in Chewie’s seat you watch the garbage slowly start to seep from the Destroyer. Han straightens in his seat, leaning to press into the com.

“Alright Chewie, get ready.” He waits another moment, “detach!”

The falcon detaches from the Destroyer with a lurch, and the ship slowly turns as it floats into the wave of garbage, watching as the Star Destroyer goes off into lightspeed. 

“You have your moments, I'll give you that.” Leia says softly, looking over Han for a moment before leaning down, pressing a kiss onto his cheek. Then, she sits down in her seat, avoiding your gaze. Smiling, you watch as Han smiles softly, and Leia blushes. 

Powering back on the Falcon, Han steers the ship around and begins making way to Bespin. 

You moved back to your seat when Chewie came back and Threepio was turned back on, albeit more calm and quiet after having been turned off for a few hours. You sat in silence, watching the clouds grow in number and the colors shift from black and blue to a dusty orange and pink. this suited Lando, you thought. 

There were two cloud cars following the ship from either side, talking to Han through the coms. 

“No,” Han says, “I don’t have a landing permit! I’m trying to reach Lando Calrissian!” 

Flak hits the side of the ship, and you lean forwards to watch out the window. Leia looks worried, you giving a tight lipped smile. 

“Woah! Wait a minute! Let me explain-” Han yells into the transmitter, but the pilot in the Cloud Car cuts him 

“You will not deviate from your current flight path.”

“Rather touchy, aren’t they?” Threepio says.

Leia huffs, “I thought you said you knew this person.”

Chewie growls and barks at Han, and you wonder what he said for Han to look so offended.

“Well, that was a long time ago. I’m sure he’s forgotten about that.”

“Permission granted to land on platform three-two-seven.”

Han smiles, seething into the transmitter, “Thank you.”

After saying his thanks, he snaps off the intercom, throwing it to the ground as Chewie grunts. 

“Nothing to worry about. We go way back, Lando and me.”

“Who’s worried?” Leia asks, sitting down in her chair. 

As the floating city of Bespin comes into view, you silently wonder how Lando came to own this place. You wonder if it was from a game of Sabacc, or if he did another run and got it as a reward. The Cloud Cars escort you to the landing platform, and Han lands with a sigh, standing from his chair and walking out of the Cockpit, you and Chewie hot on his tail. You can hear Leia and Threepio following, and make sure to glance back at her. 

Han lowers the ramp, and warily looks around the platform as you exit. You’re expecting to see Lando waiting for you guys, but there wasn’t anybody around.

“Oh. no one to meet us,” Threepio voices, looking around the platform. 

Eyebrows furrowed, you place a hand onto your blaster, looking at Han and Chewie. They both have the same looks, hands close to their weapons. 

“I don’t like this,” Leia sighs, shaking her head. Han huffs, turning to look at her. 

“Well, what would you like?”

“They did let us land,” Threepio states, looking between the two.

Han leans against one of the pistons, “look, don't worry, everything's going to be fine. Trust me.”

The door at the end of the platform hisses, opening vertically to present a group of people, Lando at the front. His dark cape laid over his shoulders as he talked with one of the people from the crowd, pointing towards your group. Han makes his way from the ramp, stopping between you and Chewie. 

“Keep your eyes open, yeah?”

Chewie nods his head, growling softly. Han turns to you, smiling, “coming with me?”

You don't reply, but you do follow him when he goes to meet Lando in the middle of the platform. Turning to give Chewie and Leia a two fingered salute. 

Han opens his hands, a bright smile on his face, “Hey!”

You can hear Lando’s voice, deeper from what you remember, his cape billowing behind him. He’s grown older, smile lines creasing around his eyes. The only remaining facial hair left on his face was his mustache, his hair remaining almost the same, just a little longer, smoothed back into waves. The group he was talking to follow at a distance, looking over your group with curious eyes. 

“Why, you slimy, double-crossing, no-good swindler!” He stops a few feet away, placing his hands on his hips

“You’ve got a lot of guts coming here, after what you’ve pulled.”

Both you and Han freeze, Hans’ hands pointing to his chest. You stare at Lando with narrowed eyes, but he doesn’t seem to acknowledge your presence just yet. 

“Me?” Han says softly. Lando takes a few steps forwards, jerking towards Han, making his hands fly up in defense, before laughing and pulling him into a hug. Han stands shocked, before beginning to laugh, hugging him back. 

Lando pulls away, smiling brightly, “how you doing, you old pirate! I never thought I’d catch up with you again, where’ve you been? What’re you doing here?”

Han turned to thumb at the Falcon, “ah, repairs, thought you could help.”

Lando replies in mock panic, “what’ve you done to my ship?” 

He finally turns to you, his eyes softening, trying to hide a smile as he finally speaks to you, “What’ve you let him do to our ship?”

Han laughs mockingly, looking between you both with wide eyes, “your ship? Hey- remember, you lost her to me fair-and-square.”

Chewie must catch his attention, his eyes flickering to behind you, “and how you doin’, Chewbacca? you still hanging around with this loser?”

Chewie replies in a series of barks and growls, Leia and Threepio appearing from his side. When Lando finally notices her, he smiles, “hello, what do we have here?” Glancing towards Han, he moves closer. 

“Welcome. I’m Lando Calrissian, I’m the administrator of this facility. And who might you be?” He tilts his head. Crossing your arms, you narrow your eyes at him. Leia flickers to look at you, before setting her gaze on him again, she looks wary, untrusting. Yet, she smiles, tilting her head.

“Leia.”

Lando sighs, “Welcome, Leia.” He reaches out, grabbing her hand to press a delicate kiss. 

Han huffs, moving in to softly grab Leia’s hand from his, shaking his head, “all right, all right, you old smoothie.”

Threepio moves closer, slightly bending down before shaking his hand, “Hello, sir. I am see-Threepio, human-cyborg relations. My facilities are at your-” Lando’s already turning around, eyes finding you again with a smile. 

“Finally deciding to work with your real captain, (Y/n)?” he takes your arm in his, leading you into the building. Laughing, you shake your head, looking at him with a smile. 

“You haven’t been a captain for how long, Lando?”

He brushes it off with a smirk, “doesn't matter, you worked under me first didn’t you?”

“You don't remember? Why, how inconsiderate of you!” You feign offense, placing your hand over the other, feeling the cape brush the back of your legs. 

“I could never forget you! After all we’ve done? It would be a crime!”

Lando turns back to Han, and you let go of his arm, clasping them behind your back as Lando's aid nods his head at you in greeting. 

“What’s wrong with the Falcon?”

“Hyperdrive.”

Lando nods, turning to his aid before looking back, “I’ll get my people to work on her.”

“Good.”

Walking backwards, Lando winks at you before looking at Leia, smiling brightly, “you know, that ship saved my life quite a few times. She's the fastest hunk of junk in the sky!”

When walking across a small bridge that leads into the main city, you finally manage to catch a glimpse of it all. The entire city reminded you of Coruscant, with cloud cars flying around, people walking through the streets, and multiple buildings linking together that stretch out as far as you could see. 

The interior was just as elegant as you expected. While walls and intricate statues and artwork. There was a chandelier hanging from the ceiling as your group walked down the skinny set of stairs. The windows on the wall to your left showcased the city lights, and you smile at Leia when you see the sparkle in her eyes return, even if it was for a second. 

Han makes busy with talking to Lando, their voices echoing through the hallways, “how's the gas mine? Is it paying off for you?”

Passing a small plaza, you glance at a man working on a power board just behind one of the pillars that held up the ceiling. He didn’t pay you any mind, too engrossed in his work. Another man, who did spare you a glance, was cleaning the walls with a large duster, reaching up as far as he could. 

“Oh,” Lando sighs, “not as well as I’d like. We’re a small outpost and not very self sufficient- not to mention the supply problems of every kind. I’ve had labor difficulties-” Lando stops short, Hans laughter billowing over him. Smiling, he tilts his head, “what’s so funny?”

You almost start laughing too at the way Han claps a hand down onto his shoulder, shaking his head. 

“You! Listen to you, you sound like a businessman, a responsible leader. Who would’ve thought that, huh?” Han looks back at you, then at Leia for a split second before turning back to the front. Lando stops in front of a large wall of windows, the sun casting an orange glow of her busy city. 

“You know, seeing you both here brings back a few things.”

Laughing, you link your arm with his again, smiling. 

“It does, doesn’t it?”

Lando chuckles, dragging you along as Han looks back, eyebrows raised and shoulders shrugging. 

“Yeah, I’m responsible these days. It's the price you pay for being successful.”

Raising a brow, you look up at him, “didn’t you win this place from gambling?”

“Acquiring this beauty doesn’t matter to me anymore, I think being a successful businessman suits me, no?”

You hiss, leaning away to wince, “I don’t know, seeing you like this is like seeing an imposter.”

“You hurt me, (Y/n). When did you get so mean?”

After assigning both you and Leia rooms, you take the chance to finally get cleaned up. The guest quarters was an oval shaped room, lounging all around the room while one door led into the bedroom. 

They provided you with a new set of clothes, perfect to go along with the beautiful city. It was a dark blue jumpsuit, the fabric light enough to be worn with the cape that was folded nicely underneath it. It was white, but had a gold lining and a beautiful design that covered the bottom. The fabric underneath was also gold, the collar wrapping around your shoulders to clasp right in the middle of your chest. You refused to wear the boots they gave, preferring your usual ones instead. 

After finally getting out of there, you make your way towards Leia’s room. You knew Han and Chewie were looking over the Falcon’s repairs, and you were hoping you’d be able to spend some time alone with Leia before you’d have to leave. But, when the doors opened, it revealed Han and Leia already sitting alone together, sitting closely as they spoke quietly amongst themselves. 

Han stood first, hands on his hips as he looked you over, nodding once as he gestured to the cape and jumpsuit. 

“Bespin seems to suit you.”

Looking down, you smooth over the soft fabric, shrugging, “over than it being kind of itchy in some parts, its comfortable.”

“I think you look beautiful,” Leia says, standing as well. She wore a maroon dress, her white cape falling fluidly over her shoulders and down her back. Her hair was down, braids being tied up with ribbons, and the dirt that used to be on her cheeks was washed away. She looked regal, fitting in almost perfectly with the city. 

“You do too, Leia.”

“The ships almost done, just a few more things before we can go.”

Leia crosses her arms, stepping closer while promptly ignoring Han, “have you seen Threepio? Nobody has heard anything from or about him!”

“I thought he was with you? When was the last time you saw him?”

Han raises his arms, “I already told her I’d ask Lando!”

“How long has he been gone?” You ask, hands on your hips. 

“Too long, there's no chance he would be lost. Something is wrong here, I cannot be the only one feeling like this.”

Leia sits back down on the couch, Han crouching next to her. You cross your arms, leaning against the door frame when the door across from you slides open, Chewie rushing in with a basket full of Threepio parts. 

“What happened?” you ask, eyebrows scrunching as you rush over, looking over a broken Threepio. Chewie sets the basket down on the round table in the middle of the room, Leia standing besides you as you begin lifting small parts. 

Chewie barks and growls softly, lifting Threepio's arm and foot. 

“Where?” Han asks, hand resting on the back of the couch. 

Chewie growls again, this time Han scoffs, “found him in a junk pile?”

Leia sighs, tilting her head. “What a mess, Chewie, you think you can repair him?”

Biting your cheek, you push away from the table and look at Han, a perplexed look on his face. Chewie growls, shrugging his shoulders. 

“Lando’s got people who can fix him.”

Leia shakes her head, voice cold, “no thanks.”

Sitting back down onto the couch, you cross one leg over the other as you watch Chewie begin repairs. Leia continues to stand, seeming to be deep in thought. 

Lando walks in just then, eyes flickering over everyone's face, “sorry, am I interrupting anything?”

“Not really, no.”

You give him a strained smile, and he returns it, before his eyes flicker over to Leia. He smiles, his eyes crinkling before he shakes his head. 

“You look absolutely beautiful.”

Leaning back, you look at Han with raised eyebrows while he slowly covers his mouth with his hand, eyes wide as he stares at Lando. 

“You truly belong here with us among the clouds,” he says smoothly, hands appearing from his cape.

“Thank you,” Leia returns coolly, She tugs her own cape closed, tilting her shoulders back towards you. 

Lando reaches a hand out, his smile bright, eyes smooth, “would you join me for a refreshment?”

Barking almost offendedly, Chewie sets down the leg he was working on. Lando adds, “everyone's invited, of course.”

Standing, you watch Han move in to smoothly take Leia’s arm, pulling her away from Lando’s grasp as he moves towards the door. Lando offers you his arm, and you take it with a small smile. 

Finally seeing the parts of Threepio, Lando’s eyebrows scrunch in confusion, “having trouble with your droid?”

“No, no problem. Why?” Han asks from the door frame, waiting for Lando to lead your group. 

When the door hisses closed behind you, Han and Leia pause so Lando can actually lead you to where you’re going. There’s more people in the Halls now, all different species filling the corridor as you walk. Light filters in through the windows, being cut by the large white pillars that stand tall. 

Lando clears his throat, hand tapping against yours before slightly turning his head to see the others. 

“So you see, since we’re a small operation. We don't fall under the, uh, jurisdiction of the Empire.”

You raise your eyebrow, Leia’s voice firm next to you, “so you're part of the mining guild then?”

Leading you down a set of stairs, you turn another corner. Shoulder brushing against Leia’s you look at her, and she meets you with soft eyes. 

“No not actually, our operation is small enough to not be noticed.”

Turning left down another corridor, he continues, “It’s advantageous for everybody since our customers are anxious to avoid attracting attention to themselves.”

There's a large set of doors at the end of the hallway, and you walk down another set of stairs, passing by another set of large windows. 

“Aren’t you afraid the Empire is going to find you out? Shut you down?” You cut in, looking down at your feet so you wouldn't trip over the many capes that billow behind you.  There's barely anyone down this hallway, and Lando begins to slow as you approach the double doors. 

“There's always been a danger looming like a shadow over everything we’ve built here. But things have developed that will ensure security. I’ve just made a deal that will keep the Empire out of her forever.”

There's a small red button outside of the door, and when Lando presses down onto it, the door hisses as it opens. 

Inside stood Darth Vader, he was at the end of the long table, black suit contrasting against the white interior. Ripping your arm from Lando’s grip, you instinctively reach for your blaster, but it wasn’t there. You had taken it off when putting on the clothes Lando provided you. Han was the only one wearing the clothes he arrived in, quickly grabbing the blaster from his side while pulling Leia behind him from her hand. Chewie growls while grabbing your arm, yanking you into his side.

Shooting at the Lord, Han would’ve hit, if it wasn’t for Darth Vader stopping the blaster bolts with his hand, stopping the blast repeatedly before ripping the gun from Hans’ hand, setting it down onto the table calmly.

“We would be honored, if you would join us.”

His voice was deep, mechanically terrifying as you peer over Han’s shoulder, watching Boba Fett himself walk from behind one of the pillars inside the room, standing beside Vader. Stormtroopers appear from behind you, pointing blasters. 

Lando stood to the side, frowning. His eyes were unreadable, but he refused to look at you, only Han. 

“I had no choice,” he said coldly, “they arrived right before you did. I’m sorry.”

Han purses his lips, grabbing Leia’s hand, looking at you before glaring at Lando, nodding.

“I'm sorry, too.”

Chewie growls, barking at him before pushing you forwards nex to Leia, who reaches back, grabbing your hand tightly as your group enters the room, the door hissing shut behind you. 

You were separated from Han and the others shortly after, being strapped to a chair, they didn’t ask you anything, just stared while you screamed in pain. You barely remember what happened, just the pulsating electricity that waved through your body. They tore off your cape, leaving you in your jumpsuit. Your head hurt, and so did your body. The fresh scars on your side from falling into the Falcon’s wires throbbed again, the skin still sensitive. 

They dragged you into another prison chamber after they were done, you pulled against them with the remaining strength you had left before they dropped you to the ground. Han was already laying against a metal bench, Leia brushing his hair back. He looked worse than you, his face pale with dark bags under his eyes. 

Chewie rushes over to you, helping you stand. Smiling, you rub his arm before making your way to Leia and Han. Han looked over you with the little strength he had left, but you swatted his hands away. 

“Did they ask you anything?” he questions, Leia looking over you with concern as well. He reaches out, touching your cheek softly before retracting.

“No, you?”

“No.”

Leia sighs, leaning down to kiss his forehead. Slouching onto the ground, you close your eyes while rubbing your side. You should’ve listened to Han when he told you to take care of it. 

The door hisses open once more, and two cloudian guards walk in, Lando trailing in after. Chewie growls, and Han does his best to sit up with Leia’s help. Pushing off of the ground, you grab onto Chewie’s arm. 

“Get out of here, Lando-”

“Shut up and listen!” He barks, face stern. “Vader has agreed to turn Leia, (Y/n), and Chewie over to me.”

Han scoffs, “over to you?”

“They’ll have to stay here, but they’ll be safe.”

Leia doesn’t miss a beat, “what about Han?”

Her hands are still gripping his shoulders, her body supporting him. You clench your jaw, already having an idea as to why Boba Fett would want Han.

“Vader’s giving him to the bounty hunter.”

Leia shakes her head, “Vader wants us all dead-”

“He doesn’t want you at all!” His head is shaking, trying to find the words, “he’s after someone else- someone called Skywalker-”

“Luke?” Your voice almost breaks. There's that feeling in your chest again, that tight twist in your stomach before it simmers away. Lando finally snaps his eyes to you, and you see the pain in them, looking at your pale face and worried, betrayed, eyes. 

“Lord Vader has set a trap for him.”

There's a moment of silence, Chewie still growling.

“And we’re the bait-” Leia yells, her voice echoing slightly. 

“Yeah, well. He’s on his way.”

Han is heaving now, his jaw offset as he struggles to look at the man in front of him. He pushes himself off the metal bench, wavering in his stance. 

“You’ve fixed us all up real good, didn’t you?”

Lando shakes his head, looking away from him. But Han wasn’t done, he took a shaky step forwards, “My friend.” He growls. He rears back his hand, punching Lando in the face. The older falls to the floor, Han following after, the guards hitting him with their guns. 

“Han!” You yell, trying to get to him but there's a gun pointed at you before you could move. Chewie is barking again, and at the moment you wish you knew what he was saying. What he was calling Lando. Leia is down by Hans’ side, rubbing his side where the guard hit him. 

As he got up, Lando fixed his cape, calling off his guards while looking over your group once more. 

“I’ve done all I can,” he says, touching his cheek, “I’m sorry I couldn’t do better but I’ve got my own problems!”

Pushing himself onto his side, Han glares from his place on the floor, “yeah, a real hero.”

Lando leaves after that, his guards following after. You finally fall to your knees besides Han, helping him up. Hes wincing, holding onto his side as Leia pushes herself closer to him. Leaning him up against the wall. 

“You certainly have a way with people,” she sighs.

Chuckling, you wipe the blood from Han’s chin, “you should’ve seen him with Jabba, a real people pleaser.”

They both laugh softly, looking at one another before Leia steps over him, Chewie helping her lift him from the floor. They place him back on the metal bench, him softly groaning as his back meets the cold metal. 

After everything seemed to calm down, the door hissed again, Boba Fett entering the room. You stand first, Leia staying by Han while Chewie stops his repairs on Threepio. 

“What a familiar sight,” you tease, tilting your head at the mandalorian. He doesn’t reply to you, just turns his head and nods towards Han. Six stormtroopers enter the room then, quickly placing handcuffs onto your friends before standing close to Boba Fett, who still had his blaster in hand. 

“Let’s go.” Is all he says, his voice mechanical. 

“What a party pleaser,” you grumble, letting Han leave the room first. Leia stands by your side, and Chewie straps a still broken Threepio to his back, the stormtroopers trailing after him. 

Boba Fett led you through Cloud City in silence, turning corners and going down stairs until you entered a dark room illuminated by a red light. Smoke steamed from different pipes, and the sight of even more stormtroopers had you inch closer to the princess. 

Threepio doesn’t seem to be able to read the situation well, his voice carrying throughout the large room frantically, “If only you attached my legs, I wouldn’t be in this ridiculous position. Now, remember, Chewbacca, you have a responsibility to me, so don’t do anything foolish.”

After walking down the final set of stairs, Han stops to stand behind Lando, who was watching the many Ugnaughts working on some kind of machine that stands in the middle of the room. 

“Nice to see you, buddy,” Han hisses, his hands shifting in the tight cuffs. There's another set of stairs on the other side of the room, and you can hear Vader’s mechanical breathing from beyond the smoke. You couldn’t see him, but you knew he was there. 

“They're putting you into carbon freeze,” Lando whispers over his shoulder, eyes flickering to the Dark Lord that now walks down the stairs. A shiver rolls down your back, and you push Leia further away from him. Boba Fett moves away from your group, standing beside Vader to speak softly to him. 

Carbon Freeze? You’ve only heard of it, never actually seeing the machine yourself. You’ve never heard of humans going into it and surviving, and the thought of Han going in there makes your eyes burn. Your chest feels tight, and you finally look at him. He’s looking at Leia with a soft smile, his eyes sad. 

“Han?” You whisper, gaining his attention. His brows furrow, and he tries to make his way over to you, but he’s stopped by Vader's voice.

“The Empire will compensate you if he dies, put him in!”

“No!” you cry, Chewie howling right after. Leia grabs your arms, pulling you away from the stormtrooper that rushed forwards with his blaster raised. Chewie begins to push away the guards, throwing them off the suspended platform. It's chaos, Chewie frantic as Hans' voice tries to speak over him.

“Chewie! No! Stop it, Chewie! Do you hear me?!” Han is standing in front of him now, speaking loudly to gain the Wookie's attention while more Stormtroopers place him into cuffs. 

“This won’t help me,” Chewie tries to struggle again, “Hey!”

Han’s face is stern, “save your strength. There’ll be another time. The princess, and (Y/n), you have to protect them, take care of them, you hear me?”

Chewie provides a woeful farewell, Leia leaving your side to stand next to him. Han looks down at her, then leans down, pressing his lips against hers. She reaches out, touching his cheek before he pulls away. 

You realize your shaking, your vision blurry with unshed tears. Han looks at you with stern eyes, and he reminds you of an older brother. 

“Don’t cry, kid.” He whispers, tilting his head. You can’t reply, throat throbbing. But you shake your head, wrapping your arms around his neck, hugging him as tight as you could. 

“You gotta keep her safe, okay?”

Nodding, you continue to hold him before letting go, swallowing while taking a shaking breath. 

Finally, Han is ripped away by a stormtrooper, and you almost go after him. Leia stops you, grabbing onto your arm firmly, pulling you back towards Chewie. She quickly turns to Han, who was already looking her way, her breathing shaking too. 

“I love you,” she says firmly, and Han tries to hide his smile.

“I know.”

The ugnaughts remove his bindings, and the floor slowly begins to lower into the chamber. 

There's tears rolling down Leia’s face, her hand clutching onto yours as Han disappears into the floor. Chewie begins to cry, it only gets louder as the machine turns on, cold smoke filling the air. The hissing the machine lets out hurts your ears, and you and Leia both turn to cover your faces. 

It only took a few seconds before the large claw above the pit descended, whirring and latching onto something before ascending again. In its jaws, was Han. He was frozen in a sheet of carbon, his face exclaiming in pain while his hands were raised in surrender. Leia gasps, your hand flying to cover your mouth, tears stinging your eyes once more. The Ugnaughts look over it before pushing it down, and Han lands with a thump, the entire floor rattling with the weight. 

Threepio continues to try and look around Chewie’s shoulder, only managing to get peeks in. 

Lando moves around, crouching beside the Carbon block to look at the statistics on the side, his eyebrows tense. 

“Oh, they’ve encased him in carbonite-” you can pick up, but you block him out. 

Vader steps forwards, hand clasped onto his belt, “well, Calrissian, did he survive?”

Lando is staring at the frozen block, his hands holding onto the side. 

“Yes, he’s alive. And in perfect hibernation.”

Turning back to Boba Fett, Vader says, “He’s all yours, bounty hunter.”

Boba Fett bows before turning to the Ugnaughts, motioning for them to continue with placing Han into a coffin-like box. Vader turns to the other Ugnaughts, “reset the chamber for Skywalker.”

One of the Imperial officers walks down to the platform then, only sparing a glance to the people around him before stopping before Vader, “Skywalker has just landed, my Lord.”

Leia turns your way, the tears dried on your face. Sighing, you speak silently with her. You couldn’t let Luke run into his trap. 

Lando moves towards you then, trying to grab your arm but you swat him away, glaring at him. He frowns, Vader’s voice speaks up again. 

“Good, see to it that he finds his way here. Calrissian, take the Princess, the Wookiee, and the other one to my ship.”

Lando doesn’t hesitate to protest, “you said they’d stay in the city under my supervision!”

“I’ve altered the deal.” Vader says, his voice cold, “pray I don’t alter it further.” 

Lando nods, hand lightly touching his throat before turning to you and the others, pursing his lips.

They place Han onto a floating platform, Boba leading a few stormtroopers and Cloud City workers away with it. Lando, an Imperial Officer, and a few stormtroopers lead you and the others out of the chamber, taking a different hallway to Vader's ship. You only watch the floor as you walk. Everyone was silent, your eyes still burning at the thought of Luke being put into the same chamber as Han. Leia continuously tries to look around, slowing enough to be pushed forwards by a Stormtrooper.

The group slows when the sound of blaster fire echo's down the vacant hallway, it sounded close. You raise your head enough to see Lando look back, his hand reaching from under his cape to press along the watch on his wrist before looking forwards once more, walking alongside the Imperial officer. 

Passing an adjacent hallway, the Imperial officer waves Lando forwards, rushing back to grab Leia by the shoulders and drag her towards the door to your right side. The troopers around start to fire down the hallway. Another trooper grabs you, and when trying to wiggle free, he only kicks the back of your knee, tripping you. Gaining your footing again, you can hear Leia yell over the sound of the other troopers’ blaster fire. 

“Luke!” She screams, and you snap your head to look down the hallway, the quickest sight of blonde hair disappearing around the corner makes your heart drop. It was true, he was here. 

“It's a trap!” She screams again before she’s yanked forcefully through the doorway. Chewie starts yelling, and when you try to yell his name, the trooper holding you kicks the back of your knee again, pulling you through the door. 

“Luke, run!” you manage to get out, seeing him peer from behind the wall. When the door shuts behind you, the trooper lets you go, pushing you to keep walking. Leia grabs ahold of your arm, helping you steady yourself. Clenching your jaw, you continue walking. Hoping that Luke heard you, and left as soon as he could. 

“I hope he heard us,” Leia whispers, her face looking back at the trooper’s following. 

Further down the hallway, you enter an intersection, where multiple of Lando’s guards are waiting, blasters already fixed on the Imperial soldiers and officer. Lando pushes the officer into the hands of one of his guards, and begins to grab the blasters from the Stormtroopers, handing them over to his right hand, who was standing behind the pillar in the middle of the room. 

“Well done,” Lando says, taking three more guns from the troopers before turning back to him, “hold them in the security tower, keep it quiet. Move.”

The guards begin to escort the Troopers and officer, handing you and Leia a blaster he took. When he hands one to you, you grab his arm harshly, “just what are you doing, huh?”

Lando gently takes his arm from your grip, moving to Chewie’s bindings, “we’re getting out of here.”

“Oh, I knew it all had to be a mistake!” Threepio cries from Chewie’s back. When the bindings fall from his wrists, he immediately grabs Lando by the throat, choking him. 

Leia smirks, “you think after all you’ve done, we’d trust you?”

“You’re stupid to think I won't just kill you right here, right now,” you sneer, blaster pointed at him. 

“I had no choice!” He chokes, hands clawing at Chewie’s wrists, trying to free himself. 

Chewie barks, almost lifting him from the ground. Threepio starts to protest, his voice frantic. 

“Oh, we understand, don’t we, (Y/n)?” Leia says sarcastically, turning to you with raised eyebrows. 

“Definitely,” you step forwards, “he just had no choice, right Chewie?”

Lando’s face starts to turn red, “I’m just trying to help-”

“That’s what you said when you let us in, isn’t it? Helping an old friend of yours fix his ship? We don’t want your help anymore, Lando.”

He ignores you, making a garbled sound that neither of you could understand. 

“I think he’s trying to say Han!” Threepio cries, his head trying to look over Chewie’s shoulder, who was still choking Lando. 

“There’s still a chance- to save Han- The east platform-”

“Chewie, drop him.” Leia says, Chewie letting him fall to the floor. He heaves, rubbing the raw skin of his throat. 

“I’m terribly sorry about all this. He’s only a wookiee, after all.”

“Shut it, Threepio.” You growl, turning to start rushing down the corridor. Leia was just behind you, Chewie following her, then a still gasping Lando. 

“This way-” Lando wheezes, running to the front of the group to lead you out onto a balcony, the sun setting on the city. You can faintly see Boba Fett’s ship up ahead, and you almost stop when hearing the familiar whistle of another droid. Chewie stops to growl at R2. 

“Artoo! Where have you been? Oh- turn around you wooly!”

Running up a set of stairs, Lando skids to a stop to open the hangar door. It hisses, and Leia and Chewie run through first, watching as Boba Fett’s ship flies away. Yelling out, Chewie tries to fire at the ship with the blaster Lando gave him, but it was no use. Standing beside Leia, your shoulders slump. Leia’s eyes well with tears, and you place a hand onto her back. 

“Oh no, Chewie, behind you!” Threepio cries, the Wookiee turning around with a cry. 

A blaster bolt nearly hits Leia, and you both turn around to see a group of Stormtroopers entering from down the corridor. R2 spins in the hanger doorway, speeding away from the cross fire. Lando takes cover behind the wall, and Leia soon follows. You and Chewie begin to fire at the troopers, Chewie hitting a few before Lando makes a break for the elevator down the hall. More troopers were filling the room, and Leia managed to hit a few before making a break for the elevator as well. Chewie pushes you along, acting as a shield while you peer around him, firing at the troopers before they could shoot Chewie. 

Your hands wouldn’t stop shaking, and with each trooper you shot down, it got worse. Feeling the heat in your cheeks, you step around Chewie to take another shot, a blaster bolt landing beside your head before you finally make it to the elevator. Lando shut the doors before any of them could round the corner. 

The elevator ride up was quick, and you ran off, almost smiling when seeing the Falcon on the landing pad. Just as quickly the doors slam shut, Lando slamming his hands against the metal door before looking at the door pad on the wall. Shaking his head, he looks at you and Leia. 

“The security codes have been changed!”

Chewie howls, grabbing onto the metal door to try and pull it open. 

“Artoo!” Threepio cries, the smaller droid beeping in return, “you can tell the computer to override the security system!”

Lando rushes over to the other wall, hooking into the panel's intercom, his voice ringing through the hallways. 

Taking off the computer cover, R2 tries to hook into the computer system. Suddenly, his short beep turns into a wild scream. R2’s circuits begin to light up, and his head spins wildly. Smoke erupts from under him, and Chewie promptly pulls him away, blue bolts curling around his little body.

“This is just great,” you grumble, hearing Threepio argue with the little droid before Lando lightly touches your elbow. 

“This way.”

Following him, you run against a large crowd of citizens, Chewie firing at Stormtroopers who managed to catch up to you. Lando is quick, running through the halls until coming up to another panel system. This time, there was a port for R2 to connect to, and you rushed him forwards. He whistles, turning his head towards you. 

More Stormtroopers begin to crowd, and you join Leia and Chewie in firing towards them, shooting more down while R2 works on the landing door. 

“Ah!” Threepio shouts, Chewie barely dodging a blaster bolt. “We’re not interested in the Millennium Falcon's hyperdrive! It's fixed! Just open the door, you stupid lump!”

“Leia!” You shout, seeing more troopers enter the hallway, “to your left!”

Beginning to retreat down the corridor, you can faintly hear the triumphant beep of R2, the door sliding open seconds later. Lando pulls Leia away, both passing you before you shoot once more down the hallway, following behind them onto the platform. The exit ramp was already down, a small light emanating from inside. 

R2 waits for you to pass before laying cloud fog, blocking the trooper's view before following behind you. 

Reaching the Falcon just as the battalion reaches the doors, you and Leia quickly take cover behind one of the legs, shooting towards the troopers while Chewie rushes onto the Falcon, hitting Threepio's head on his way in. 

The Falcon rumbles, the engine roaring to life as more stormtroopers begin to flood the platform. Lando turns to you, waving “Leia! (Y/n)! Go!”

Find an opening, you push Leia, both of you running on board. Lando shuts the ramp, following behind you into the cockpit. Passing by the  two droids, you sit down in Hans’ seat, flipping on the deflector shields and helping Chewie with preparing the Falcon for hyperspeed. 

“Let's get out of here-”

“Wait!” Leia says, sitting in your usual seat, “what about Luke?”

Breathing heavily, you squeeze your eyes shut, “If he heard us, he should be gone by now-”

“We’ve got to go back!” She cuts you off. Turning sharply, you notice the look in her eyes, the fog that she seemed to be in. Her eyebrows were furrowed, and her hand reached out to grab your arm.

“I know where Luke is.”

Chewie barks in surprise, Lando leaning forwards in his chair, “what?”

“We have to go back.” She states, still looking at you.”

Breathing deeply, you clench your jaw, staring back at her. 

“What about those fighters?” Lando voices. Chewie agreeing. 

Shaking your head, you look back to the front, “Chewie, just do it.”

Lando scoffs, looking between the three of you, “but what about Vader?!”

Chewie turns towards him, barking and growling. Lando stands from his chair, hands up in surrender. 

The Falcon does a graceful turn, the sight of Cloud City not bringing anymore comfort. The sun cast a golden glow over the clouds, the lights beginning to turn on in the city. Dark shadows began to form, making it hard to see anything. 

“You better be right,” You murmur. Leia doesn’t respond, but she does move closer to look out the window. 

When getting closer to the city, Leia points to the underside, her eyes sharp, “down there.”

Lando leans down, his face next to yours, squinting to see through the shadows before pointing as well, “There's someone down there.”

Staring, you gasp, seeing the small figure cling to a weather vane.

“Its Luke!”

“Chewie, Slow down and we’ll get under him-” you command, turning towards the other two, “Lando, open the top hatch. Leia, take my spot- I’m gonna go with Lando.”

Standing from the chair, you gently touch Leia’s back as you dash out of the cockpit, following Lando as he makes his way to the top hatch. When he stops to open the sliding door, he looks back, you only waving him off. 

“You grab him, I’m gonna get a blanket or something.” When you see him continue to stare, you almost stomp your foot, “Hurry, you idiot!”

There's a small cabinet a little further down the hall, and you open it quickly, looking over the old clothes, finally coming across a brown blanket. Grabbing it, you slam the cabinet closed behind you when the sliding door closes. You can feel the Falcon slow to a halt, the outside hatch hissing as it opens. 

Seconds almost feel like hours, and when the sliding door finally opens again to reveal Lando and Luke, you almost choke on the newly forming lump in your throat. 

Luke looked terrible, to put it lightly. The skin around his eye was deep purple, the color reaching almost to the side of his jaw. The corner of his top lip was busted, blood almost dripping down his chin. His once blonde hair was darker, soaked and sticking to his forehead from sweat. You quickly throw the blanket over his shoulders, his pretty blue eyes finally looking at you. They screamed exhaustion, his body practically falling into you. Lando speaks, but you can’t hear him over the roaring in your ears as you hold Luke’s frail body closer. One of his arms wraps itself around your waist, using some of his remaining energy to hold you tightly. 

“Oh, Luke,” you whimper, pulling away to grab his face.

“(Y/n),” he whispers back. His cheeks were sweaty, and he almost collapsed when you let go. Using your strength you grab his other hand, but stop when he yelps in pain, yanking the arm from your grasp. Confused, you look to see what wound he could have obtained, but you fall short when seeing his hand completely gone. The skin charred, clothes burned away. 

The ship rocks violently, causing you to grab hold of Luke again, Lando racing towards the cockpit while you carefully pull Luke towards the small medbay. It was only a single bunk, but it had enough supplies to keep someone stable while reaching somewhere more suitable. 

Luke’s breathing starts to become labored when you slowly lower him onto the bunk. You make sure to pull the blanket free from his shoulders, laying it over him while he falls onto the thermal padding. More flak hits the Falcon, the small life support machine shaking. You try your best to attach everything correctly, but you stop when a hand grabs your shoulder. 

Leia stands with a frown, her eyes looking over Luke before nodding towards you. Moving, you let her quickly stabilize him, his breathing beginning to level out while she attached a cuff to the arm with his missing hand. Rubbing your nose, you try and wipe away the tears that cloud your vision. 

You can hear Lando and Chewie shouting to each other, Leia’s voice louder than the flak that hits the ship. 

“Go to the cockpit, help those two idiots.”

Breathing deeply, you look back over, “what about Luke?” 

Her lips pursed at the frailness of your voice, sees the slight shake in your hands when you pull them away from your eyes. Your cheeks are pink and splotchy, tears wetting your lashes.

“I’ve got him- you go.”

“But-”

“(Y/n). Go, I’ve got him.”

Nodding, you rush to the cockpit. Briefly, you try to spot the two droids, but their nowhere to be found. 

“What’s happening?” You curse your voice for cracking, but the two must pretend they don’t notice. 

“Three TIE’s are on our tail.”

“What about hyperspeed? We can outrun them if your people repaired the ship.”

Lando throws a look over his shoulder, “I don’t know where we’re going! How can I punch in coordinates?”

Groaning, you turn towards the Nav computer, trying to think of any place that would work. Your mind is jumbled, thoughts running a million miles per minute. With shaking hands, you try and type in random coordinates, but they keep coming up invalid. 

Leia rushes in seconds later, the towel she was holding in her hand discarded to the chair next to you. The once cloudy skies turned to stars, the endless expanse of space welcoming you back. 

Pointing, Leia grumbles, “Star Destroyer.”

She turns towards the nav system while Lando steers away from the Star Destroyer. Touching your shoulder to gain your attention. Silent words are exchanged, and you back away, going back to stand between Lando and Chewie. Glancing down, you try to ignore all the muted alarms on the control panel, a new one appearing while Lando fiddles with more buttons and switches. When he switches a wrong one, you click your tongue and reach forwards, slapping his hand away to fix his mistake. 

“Just like old time- eh?”

Glaring, you almost slap him, “Shut up.”

Lando sighs, glancing back at Leia, “Ready for hyperspeed?”

“Yeah, if your people actually fixed it.”

A green light flickers to life next to Leia, and she nods, “The coordinates are set, it's now or never.”

“All right, Chewie. Punch it!”

Chewie reluctantly pulls back on the throttle. And you breathe a sigh of relief when you can hear the engine winding up. The relief is suddenly ripped away from you when the same sound of the engine dying fills the cabin, both Leia and Chewie looking at Lando, who sits in shock. 

“You’ve got to be kriffing kidding me!” you shout, grabbing Lando by the collar when the ship rattles again.

“You told us you fixed it! What happened, huh?!” You throw him back into his chair, storming out of the cockpit. You can hear Lando yelling, Chewie barking over him. 

In the main hold, you briefly glance at the two droids on the floor. R2 was slowly putting Threepio back together. Threepio was holding his own leg, watching you storm past before turning back to Chewie, who was hot on your heels. 

The Wookiee pulls the floor grates up, grabbing one of his tools and dropping into the floor. 

You stop at the system Threepio was hooked up to for what seemed like ages ago, staring at the blinking lights and switches, trying to think of some solution that would get you out of this. 

“Noisy brute, why don’t we just go into lightspeed?” You hear Threepio ask, R2 beeping a reply. Blocking them out, you turn to join Chewie. Dropping down, you shield your face when sparks fly from the panel. Chewie grumbles, and you grab another tool from his belt. 

“Tell me about it, yeah?”

The ship rocks, and Lando’s voice crackles over the coms, “Chewie!”

You and Chewie work around each other, trying to find what could be wrong with the Hyperdrive, but you couldn’t find anything. Anger filled your stomach, and when you slammed your wrench against the panel, sparks flew. 

“Why does this always happen?!” you yell, Chewie replying with a growl. 

Peering out of the trench, you watch R2 speed towards the control panel, beginning to work on a circuit board while Threepio stands off to the side, his leg in hand. 

“Artoo, come back here at once! You haven’t finished with me yet! You don’t know how to fix the hyperdrive! Chewbacca and Madam (Y/n) can do it. I’m here in pieces and you’re having delusions of grandeur!”

Shaking your head, you look back down. Suddenly, the hyperdrive engine roars back to life, the Falcon lurching into hyperspace so suddenly it throws you into Chewie, who was already leaning against the panel behind him. R2 screams as he’s thrown across the Main Hold, and Threepio is yelling in joy.

Pulling yourself out, you walk back to the cockpit, stopping when you see Luke laying back in your chair. Leia and Lando continue to look over the control panel, only glancing back to spare a soft smile. 

“Luke,” you speak softly, his attention turning to you. Standing, he makes his way over, his wounded arm cradled to his torso while the other reaches to rest on your chin.

“Are you all right?” He asks, eyebrows furrowed while looking you over. Scoffing, you grab his elbow, placing your other onto his bicep. 

“I should be asking you that, shouldn’t you be resting? Here, I’ll take you back so you-”

“I’d rather be up here with you guys, I’ll be okay.”

There's a certain look to him you can’t quite place, masked by the tired eyes and slumped shoulders.

“Let’s talk in the Main Hold. Lando, Leia join us when you’re ready.” You slowly help Luke back into the Main Hold, Chewie closing up the floor grate while R2 finishes up Threepio. Settling down next to Luke, you finally breathe a sigh of relief. 

“You know,” Luke says softly, his gaze flickering to you, “you said we’d talk- when we saw each other again.”

Laughing softly, you pinch the bridge of your nose before looking at him, tilting your head. 

“I’d rather wait until you’re in a medbay, again, being looked after so you don't die.”

Scoffing softly, Luke’s head rests against the cushions, “I’m fine-”

Chewie begins barking and growling, Lando scoffing under his breath as he enters the Main Hold. When you look up, you see Leia perched on the engineering station, looking over you and Luke. Tilting your head, you raise an eyebrow, but she waves you off. 

“Han?” Lando’s voice is loud, “Go after Han Solo? We can’t go after him!”

R2 rolls over, bumping into Luke’s leg, but he doesn’t move, just groans softly under his breath while his eyes close. 

“Maybe you forgot already, Chewbacca, but Boba Fett has Han.”

Chewie replies, but Lando seems to get more heated. He throws an arm out, eyebrows furrowed as he looks up at the Wookiee. 

“Honestly, we’re lucky he got away-”

You scoff, “We’re the lucky ones? What a nice thing to say, Lando.”

“Fett’s flying Slave One- Maybe, maybe we could’ve caught him before he went to lightspeed- I mean, this is the Millennium Falcon.”

He pauses, shrugging his shoulders, “but then what? Blast him out of the sky? Iffy- and even if we pulled it off, that’d be the end of our old buddy Han.”

Growling, Chewie pushes Lando, getting into his face. He seems to understand him, holding his hands in surrender, “okay, okay, your old buddy. He was my friend too, though, back in the day.”

“Key word, ‘was’,” you grumble, crossing your arms. Luke tilts his head, confusion crossing his tired features before looking back at Lando and Chewie. 

“We all saw you make your choice, Lando.” Leia says sternly. Lando turns to her, huffing, “so did you, princess. We missed our chance to get Boba Fett because you guys,” he throws a hand your way, “decided to go back to Cloud City for him.”

“Hey! Watch yourself, I’ll make Chewie throw you out the top hatch.”

He ignores you, still facing Leia, “what makes him so important to everyone?”

“His name is Luke Skywalker, Lando. He destroyed the Dead Star.” Her voice is softer, uncrossing her arms to place them on her hips. There's a moment of silence, Lando humming before turning to look at Luke, “Huh. No wonder Darth Vader wanted him so badly.”

“Maker,” you mumble, rubbing your eyes harshly. 

“Look,” Lando sighs, “we all lost a lot today. You lost a friend, I lost an entire city. Lotta people I care about back on Bespin, you know.”

Threepio waddles into the room, his arms raised, “I lost my arms and legs! I was blown apart!”

You all look at him, and he looks at each one of you before bowing his head, “well, for a bit anyways.”

“Listen, this isn’t a total disaster, Han is my friend, and we’ll get him back. After all, we can’t catch Boba Fett now, but Chewie and I know where he’s gonna take Han, right?”

There's an unsettling churn to your stomach, making you shift in your seat.

“Oh dear,” Threepio starts, “To Jabba the Hutt? Oh, he will certainly murder Captain Solo the first chance he gets!”

Glaring at Threepio, you almost jump when Luke’s hand touches your arm. His voice is filled with confusion, “Han? Where is Han? What are you guys talking about?”

The lump from before forms in your throat again, and you can’t bring yourself to explain the events that happened. You didn’t want to, not yet, at least. Leia walks over, giving you a sympathetic smile while tucking her knee under her when sitting down next to him. She grabs his arm, just above the cuff. 

“Darth Vader used Han to test the carbonite chamber, he wanted to use it on you, Luke,” she lets him take in the information for a second before continuing, “He’s still alive but frozen, suspended. Vader gave him to a bounty hunter. Boba Fett.”

Sitting up, Luke’s hand falls from your arm, gripping the couch tightly, “No, no. I was-” he shakes his head, “I think I saw them, Leia- I was right there-”

His voice slowly becomes more frantic, trying to push himself off the couch, “We have to go after him, Leia, we have to-”

You inch forwards, helping him sit back down. 

“We will, Luke,” you say softly, “it won't be easy, but we’ll find Han.”

Leia cuts in, concerned, “what about you? You haven't told us what happened.”

He glances at both of you before looking down at his knees, eyebrows furrowing, “I reached out to bed with the force. He didn’t,” he looks at you, defeated, “He didn’t answer me.”

His hand shakes, moving to grip onto your knee. He rubs the material of your jumpsuit with his fingers, shaking his head. He looked broken, face pale and eyes tired. The blood was cleaned from his face, the bruise slowly fading from the bacta Leia must have applied. 

You grab his hand, “He will, Luke.”

“And if he doesn't,” Leia’s voice is soft, smiling small as she looks at him, “you’ll find your own path, You’re strong.”

She says something under her breath, but you can’t hear her. 

Standing, she turns back to the others, who were looking over the engineering station. 

“Maybe we can’t save Han, not yet.”

“What?” maybe you didn’t hear her right. 

“We can save everyone else. Chewie, set a course to return to the Rebel fleet, Artoo will give you the coordinates.”

Whistling, Chewie bends down to pat the top of the droid. Lando, pushing away from the engineering station, stands tall in front of the princess. 

“Hey, now. The Empire is looking for this ship, and we know damn well they’re hunting the Rebel fleet too. How about we just find a nice quiet spot and wait for the heat to die down a little? I have places we can go. Gal on Nar Shaddaa owed me a favor.���

Frowning, Leia tilts her head. Finally standing, you let go of Luke's hand, “I'm sure she does, Calrissian. But you’re not the Captain, are you? Last I checked, Han was. I doubt he’d trust you with her now, you’d probably be the last person on that very small list. Don’t forget- you betrayed us to the Empire.”

“Oh, come on. I had Darth Vader breathing down my neck, and I still got you all out of there. I should get some credit for that!”

“Credit? For helping others? Gosh,” you say sarcastically, clapping your hands, “do you want a medal? How about we stop everything and have a whole celebration!”

“I’m commandeering this ship for the Rebel fleet, which means you don’t have a say in where it goes,” Leia says, glaring at Lando. He scoffs, looking between the both of you before holding his hands up in surrender. 

“Chewie, (Y/n), I'm sure Mon Mothma and the others are wondering where we are.”

Lando followed as you made your way to the cockpit once more. While Chewie was punching in the codes from R2, you sat in your seat, pulling up the radar and deflector shields. They wouldn’t be online until you dropped from lightspeed, but it was best to have the grids up now. Leia sat in Hans’ chair, lightly touching the arms before flipping switches in preparation for the drop. Lando sat behind her, watching as she checked over the now silent alarms. 

Chewie barks, the green light on the nav computer flickering on. Sitting down in his seat, he grabs onto the hyperdrive, slowly lowering it. 

The Mid-Rim. Rendezvous point Delta-Three. It was located near a star, right between the Vosch Cluster and the trading worlds of Caldra Prime and Caldra Tertius. The rendezvous point had been discovered, the entire fleet being surrounded by the Empire. Squadrons were being chased by TIE’s, others chasing them. The large capital ships were the closest to the star, furthest from the four Star Destroyers that blocked their way out. 

Turning on the radar, you cringe at the amount of bogies, quickly turning on the deflector shields as Chewie steered away from incoming fire. 

Leia slides on one of the coms, connecting into the Rebel link, “This is Leia Organa in the Millennium Falcon, how can we help?”

A voice comes through not long after, voice distressed, “Glad to hear your voice, Princess, but the Imperials have us locked up pretty good. They just called away some of the TIEs, but we’re still getting hit hard from the Capital Ships. We can’t get past their blockade to jump to lightspeed.”

“Okay. We’ll find a way to help. Be ready to move the moment you see an opportunity- you’ll want to head to the next fallback point. Don’t give up hope.” 

“Acknowledged. I’m not sure what you can do, but- May the Force be with you.”

Sliding off the headset, Leia looks out at the fight. 

“Chewie, we have to make a hole in that Cordon big enough to escape.”

Lando scoffs, “Make a hole? We should escape! I count four Star Destroyers out there! You know me, I believe in the cause, but this is suicide! We gotta run, live to fight another day!”

Laughing, you shake your head, “the cause? Oh boy, you’re funny!”

Barking, Chewie steers the Falcon sharply, the radar blaring with multiple TIE’s.

“We’ve got company-”

“How nice, all those TIE fighters, just for us.”

Shaking her head, Leia glares at him, standing from the chair, “stop complaining and help, Lando. I’ll get to the guns.”

She runs from the cockpit, and Lando tries to sit down in her seat, but Chewie growls a warning.

“Chewie, you need to let me pilot. You remember how good I used to be at flying? I’m better now!”

Leaning forwards, you lightly touch his shoulder, “I don’t want him here either, but it's our best chance while I’m on the shields.”

“Just trying to survive here, pal. If I pull anything funny, you can rip my arms off.”

Growling, Chewie points to the chair, Lando smiling briefly before sitting down. He slides on the headset, looking around the controls before nodding. 

“How are we even gonna do this?” Lando asks, “if those Rebel Frigates can’t make a dent in the Empire's ships, how are we supposed to?”

Flak hits the ship, and you check the internal damage, “use the missiles, you idiot.”

“Missiles? The Falcon doesn’t have missiles!”

Chewie barks, flipping another switch. Leaning back in the chair, Lando watches him, “whoa, two ST2 launchers? What the hell were you guys doing with my ship that made you install that much firepower?”

“Your ship?” You snap, glaring. He only smiles, “anyways, yeah, eight missiles, that’ll pack a punch. But even if they all land, they won’t take out a Star Destroyer.”

Barking and growling, Chewie doesn't even spare him a glance. You didn't even notice R2 and Threepio enter the cockpit until you heard his voice. 

“Master Chewbacca suggests that we don't actually need to destroy an entire vessel, merely the gun emplacements on one of the light cruisers. If this succeeds, the integrity of the Cordon will be reduced, and-”

“I understand Shyriiwook, Goldie. I get the idea, doesn’t mean it ain’t crazy.”

“Don’t talk to him like that! Not everyone is so grandiose like you and can understand Chewie.”

Lando frowns, looking at you and Chewie. 

“Spending so much time with Han changed you guys, you used to be so rational-”

The control panel goes up in sparks, alarms beginning to ring as you try and assess the damage. Looking around, you find your com underneath Chewie’s seat, plugging it in, you slide it on. 

“That blast almost cooked us, Leia, Fore shields took a huge hit.”

“You guys need to get a little better at shooting down these ties or this big heroic rescue of yours will be over right quick” Lando cuts in. 

“Lando, we got it!”

“What do you mean ‘We’” You ask, looking at Lando with furrowed eyebrows. He points to the control panel, a small light indicating both turrets were in use. 

“Luke’s on the other gun-”

“Why is he on the other gun?!”

“I'm fine!” Luke's voice cuts in, sounding more energetic, “just hard to do this only one-”

He cuts himself off, and you take off the com, not wanting to hear anything else. Another alarm starts blaring, and you stand from your chair to look over the control panel, flipping another switch to direct more power to the front shields. 

“This ain’t good at all.” Lando grumbles, trying to dodge more flak that hits the front.

“I thought everything was amazing,” you say, smiling, “I was just about to say we should dock and get something to drink!”

Chewie barks, and you get back into your seat, turning to look at the radar. When suddenly, the engines of the incoming TIE’s seem to explode, like each pilot was intentionally running into each other. 

“What the-”

“What’s to understand, princess?” Lando barks into the com, “take the luck you get! Shoot them!”

“We’re coming up on the Cordon,” You get up form your seat again, looking out. The Cordon was quickly coming closer, its guns already firing at the Falcon. Lando steers closer, hands over the missile release, “Leia, Luke, make sure you’re strapped in down there. We’re making our attack run.”

“Kriff,” you curse, turning to make sure the coordinates to the fallback point were set. Not seeing the input, you turn to find R2 already making his way over. Bending down, you open a small panel connecting to the Nav system, and watch as he connects in. His head spins, and in moments the small green light turns on. 

You can feel the missiles fly from the Falcon, and you think you can hear when they hit their target. Chewie roars, pulling back on the steering. Lando turns, “Are we ready for lightspeed?”

“Ready- hit it when you’re ready.”

Lando smiles, “hit it Chewie! I can’t believe this actually worked!”

The backup rendezvous Point Gamma-Nine was located just outside of a milky way. What was left of the fleet at the previous rendezvous point was here. The Falcon was docked on The Redemption, and when you finally stepped foot off of it, Luke was out of your sight. You didn’t know where he went, but R2 was rolling after him. You hoped he was heading towards a medbay, but with the way his eyes were downcast, eyebrows knit tight, and how his shoulders were tense, you knew he was going somewhere to deal with everything that happened. 

Leia guided you and the others to the control room, the two leading officers from The Redemption already waiting. 

“Chewbacca, for the time being, don't let Lando out of your sight.” The commander says, leaning his elbows onto the center console. His gray hair was slicked back, and he had a long beard. Chewie barks in agreement, and Lando holds his hands out. 

“Hey now, I just saved every damn ship here!”

You lean against the wall, rubbing your eyes. Your back was starting to hurt from the day, and your side was beginning to throb again. Fatigue begins to settle in your neck, and you close your eyes, still listening in. 

“Only because we didn’t let you run away,” Leia retorts, “you’re a question, Lando Calrissian. And until we know the answer, consider yourself a guest to the Rebellion.”

“There's another question too.” She turns back to the other commanders, “how did the Imperials find you? When the fleet scattered after Hoth, the rally points were top secret.”

The other leader, a man who had dark skin and a goatee, spoke up, “they didn't find us Leia. We initiated our scheduled contact with another cell- Eighth Division, out near Malastare. Not long after, they reported that the Imperials found them too. Nothing since.”

You try to make sense of what they were talking about, but Threepio beat you to it.

“If I may, Princess Leia- the odds of two cells of the Rebel fleet being found simultaneously are approximately fourteen point five billion to one. The much more likely scenario is that the Imperials have somehow found a way to-”

Leia cuts him off, “Break our codes.”

The older leader, with the gray hair and full beard, speaks with a gravelly voice. 

“If that’s true, it means the moment any Rebel cell communicates with another, the Imperials can pinpoint the location of both groups.”

He sighs, and you can hear him move around. Finally opening your eyes, you watch as Leia begins tapping her foot.

“Must be what happened to us,” he continued, one hand on his hip, “and it's what happened to eight. And we can’t warn the other cells or tell them to switch codes, because as soon as we do-”

“They’ll get attacked, and so will we,” she finishes. 

Pushing off of the wall, you stand beside her, looking down at the unused control panel.

“Hell, for all you know, it's already happened. All those other cells might have sent out their little messages, and the Empire could have swung right in, mopped ‘em up. Hell, for all you know, you might be the only ones left.” Lando sighs.

You shake your head, “this might be the entire Rebellion right here.”

The two leaders leave not long after, and you don’t recall the reason they give. You’re too busy listening to Lando and Leia argue back and forth. You’ve taken your spot back on the wall, leaning your head against it with closed eyes. Your head was starting to pound, and you can’t recall the last time you ate or drank anything.

There's a small touch to your shoulder, and when you turn, Luke is there. He looks more defeated than before, eyes sad and bloodshot. Smirking, you reach up to tap his hand.

“Where’ve you been? Started to make me worried.”

He shrugs, voice hushed “just had to be alone for a little.”

“Everything all right?” 

“You can trust me!” Lando shouts, making you and Luke jump. 

“Can I?” Leia responds. 

“No need to be rude, Leia. I’m trying to do you a favor.” Walking past you, Lando waves her off, “I don't get the hostility. I mean, if I'm trying to pull something- what's my angle? Han’s my friend too, whether you believe it or not. But if you don't want my help- don't want to see your handsome rascal again- fine by me.”

She sighs, turning to face him once more, “Lando. Okay, you can go. Take the Millennium Falcon, we can spare it for a little while. I have to stay here to try to find a way to save the Rebel fleet. But if you think you can learn something from your contacts on Tatooine about whether Boba Fett’s brought Han to Jabba yet-”

“I know I can, Princess. I’ll find out if Jabba has Solo. If he doesn’t, I'll look for leads on Fett. It’ll work. I got friends all over that dust bowl.”

Luke tilts his head, letting go of your shoulder, “you say that like it's a good thing, Calrissian.”

Lando has that smirk on his face again, “oh definitely, Luke. Definitely. I can learn things none of you can. Even Chewbacca. I love the big guy, but he doesn’t speak basic. On Tatooine, communication problems get you killed.”

“I’m aware. I grew up there,” Luke deadpans. 

“Well,” Leia cuts back in, “Chewie’s still going with you. He’ll take you to Tatooine, and he’ll bring you right back. Right, Chewie? You’ll keep Lando flying straight? And if he tries anything, you’ll-” Chewie cuts her off with a roar.

Pushing off the wall, you ignore the pain in your back, “I’m going with him.”

They turn to look at you, then Lando laughs, “No, you’re not.”

“You really think I’m going to let you dictate that? I know that hellscape like the back of my hand, I think I know a lot more people than you-”

“That’s exactly why you can’t go, (Y/n),” Leia says softly, eyes shining with regret. 

Scoffing, you turn to look at her, eyebrows furrowing, “you’re serious?”

“If both you and Chewbacca go, word might get out that you’re back on the planet. Jabba will try anything to have both you and Solo hanging pretty on his wall-”

“Okay!” you shout, silencing Lando, “so what do you want me to do, sit pretty and wait for you to find him?”

“Yes. You have to trust me, second.”

Glaring, you bite the inside of your cheek. Luke touches your lower back, standing next to you, “If Jabba does have Han, let me know. We can Rendezvous at the Jundt Massif, not far from the palace. I know that region, so I can help.”

Lando shakes his head, “Jabba the Hutt ain’t the Death Star, Luke. He needs a subtle touch. And I hate to be blunt, but you’ve only got one hand.”

“I don’t need two hands Lando, I’ve got The Force,” Luke raises his wounded arm, seemingly glaring at the cuff. Lando nods his head once, not believing him, “Uh-huh. Let’s hope so. Because if Boba Fett’s already sold Han to Jabba, it’ll make a rescue mission just about impossible.”

“Getting him out of that palace alive?” Lando smiles softly, “It’d take a miracle. Come on Chewie, time to fly!”

The two talk back and forth as they leave, and you sigh heavily. Leia’s fingers tap against her chin, and Luke watches Lando and Chewie go as well. 

“Can we trust him?” He asks softly, looking at Leia. 

She shrugs, “only if we know he’s going after something he wants. That’s why I sent Chewie.”

“He’s not wrong,” you speak up, motioning down to Luke’s arm, “you should get your hand fixed.”

Leia sighs, “there's a medical bay a few decks down-”

“I know, Leia. I already talked to the surgical droid, they can make me a replacement. But, I haven’t been feeling like myself lately, not since Bespin. I’m not sure getting a new hand would help.”

She gently grabs his arm, “don't worry, Luke. No matter what happens, you’ll always be you.” 

Leia leaves after that, most likely going to follow up with other officers. You stay behind with Luke for a little while longer. He’s looking down at his missing hand, eyebrows furrowed. Stepping closer, you tilt your head to grab his attention. 

“She’s right, you know.”

“About what?” He asks, shoulders slouching. He looks at you with defeated eyes and a broken soul, trying desperately to ground himself back into reality by looking at you. Smiling, you reach out and tap the underside of his chin. The corner of his mouth twitches, but none of it reaches his eyes.

“You’ll always be Luke Skywalker.”

He sighs, “and what about you?”

“What do you mean?”

“What am I to you?”

You take a minute, thinking of what to say. You remember your last conversation on Hoth, how Leia kissed him, how he looked like the happiest man in the world after she fled the room. You also remember the short conversation you had with Leia on the Falcon, and the way Luke was desperate to talk to you in the hangar back on Hoth. You weren’t ready to talk about everything, but you came to understand your feelings when you saw him broken and beaten. When he clung to you and whimpered in pain, how he whispered your name like a prayer only meant for The Force to hear. 

You were in love with Luke Skywalker, and for once your heart sings his name without being shunned into silence by your naïve mind. 

“You’re a man who always does the right thing, no matter what anybody tells you.”

He breathes deeply, breaking eye contact to look down at his hand again, seemingly falling back into the thoughts that cloud his mind.

“Common,” you clear your throat, stepping away from him, “let's get you to the bed bay, yeah?”

Leia joins you when Luke is out of surgery, right by his bedside while you're standing at the large bay windows that overlook the rest of the fleet, Lando’s voice crackles through the com in his hand. 

“Luke, we’re ready for take off.”

“Good luck, Lando.” Luke’s voice is more full of life than it was, the med-droid that was working on his arm worked quickly. Leia, already back in her crisp white dress, hair tied tightly into a low bun, stood next to him, watching over the droids work intently. 

“When we find Jabba the Hutt and the bounty hunter, we’ll contact you.”

Threepio and R2 join you at the bay window, silently watching along with you. 

“I’ll meet you at the rendezvous point on Tatooine.”

“Princess, (Y/n), we’ll find Han.”

You ignore him, clenching your jaw while crossing your arms. You wanted to go, deep down you knew if you pressed harder, you would be in the Falcon too. You’d find Han faster than Lando, but you knew it would be a big risk going to Tatooine when you were wanted as well. Albeit not as much as Han, you’d still be a prize to Jabba. 

“Chewie, I’ll be waiting for your signal.” Luke says, you can hear the faint smile in his voice. 

Chewie wails over the com, and Luke laughs, “Take care, you two. May the Force be with you.”

Leia lightly touches your shoulder, smiling when you turn to her. Luke yelps once, the droid mechanically apologizing before you can hear him shuffle on the bed, his body sliding in between yours and Leia’s, his arm resting around your waist. His smile was light, and when he turns to Leia, she returns it. His hand tightens around you, and his other slides around Leia’s shoulders, pulling the both of you closer. 

You watch as the Falcon begins to fly off, and you raise your hand, giving it a two finger salute just as it jumps into hyperspace. You would find Han, it would just take more time. 

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again, thank you to everyone who stuck around and waited almost a year for this to drop- I appreciate each and every one of you 

[jinxquickfoot]

@badthingshappenbingo prompt: And I Must Scream

Find the fic on Ao3

It’s been three months since Dreykov’s death.

Three months of chasing ghosts. Three months of releasing Widows. No matter how many Natasha sees rescued, it never grows easier.

Because they don’t see it as rescue. They see it as capture. As failure. Widows do not fail.

More than one Widow has been found dead before they reach her, preferring to die for the Red Room rather than fall into enemy hands.

Three months since Dreykov’s death.

Three months since his daughter’s.

And now, it’s over. There are no more ghosts to chase. Natasha doesn’t know what to make of the fact that Yelena’s file hadn’t been in those they’d recovered. She hopes that means her mladshaya sestra got out, made her own life. That she hadn’t tried to find her. Yelena had been young, after all. Too young. She might not even remember her.

She and Clint hadn’t talked the entire flight back to DC. She had sensed he had wanted to, but knew she didn’t, so he’d kept his mouth shut. She’s still not used to that—having a need met, not to meet an agenda, and not to manipulate her. Just because someone wants to make her feel safe.

Natasha still doesn’t entirely know why Clint didn’t take the shot. It unsettles her. There aren’t many people she can’t read. And she feels as though she should be able to read Clint Barton. On the surface, he’s an open book. Good soldier, gets the job done, quick with just the right kind of sly comment to make the people around him laugh. She also knows that all of that is armor. What she doesn’t know is what he’s shielding.

Clint doesn’t break the silence until they land at the Triskelion. “After we drop off our stuff, I have something to show you.”

Natasha eases herself out of the co-pilot’s seat, gathering her bag. She’s still not allowed to man any of SHIELD’s vehicles, not until she can prove she’s not a flight risk. It’s not a decision she can blame Fury for making—she’s thought about running more than once. What is left of the Red Room is gone. She’s gotten what she’s needed out of SHIELD. She could flee into the night and never look back, become someone completely different, live in a world where not a soul knows what horrors she’s inflicted on the world.

She follows Clint into the Triskelion.

They don’t talk through their post-mission routine either. They stow their equipment, splitting off to their separate locker rooms to shower. Not that it should matter—they’ve been sharing quarters for months now, sometimes the same place for days at a time, and they’ve seen everything. Natasha kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for that first move to be made. And when Clint didn’t make it, she did, only to be promptly told that maybe they could explore that down the line, but not while she was trying to prove that he was some jackass trying to get in her pants.

Her confusion around Clint Barton grew.

She takes longer in the shower than she needs to. It’s a luxury she’s never had before—being able to stand under the hot water for as long as she liked, just because she wanted to.

It keeps Clint waiting, but he doesn’t call her out on it. “Ready to go?”

Clint leads her down to the garage, Natasha hesitating when he indicates for her to get into the readied car. “Where are we going?”

“It’s not a mission,” is all Clint tells her.

The drive is short. Natasha gazes out the window, the passing trees and buildings and people. This is home now. She’s burned her old one to ashes.

They stop at an apartment building, Clint pulling into the car park. “This way.”

She follows him up three flights of stairs, through the unremarkable, totally mundane building, to an unremarkable, totally mundane door. Clint withdraws a set of keys, but he doesn’t unlock the apartment. He holds them out to her.

“What is this, Barton?”

“A gift.”

Carefully, Natasha takes the keys and eases her way inside the apartment.

It’s nothing special. A one-bedroom with minimal furniture in need of a fresh coat of paint, a drooping plant someone has abandoned in the corner. Natasha takes it in, suspicions rising. “I have a room at the Triskelion.”

“You had a glorified cell. You helped us take down Dreykov, Natasha. You completed your part of the deal. So Fury decided you deserved somewhere that locked from the inside.”

Natasha doesn’t put her bag down, even after Clint closes the door behind them. “Fury decided, did he? He wasn’t convinced?”

Clint shrugs that off. “You’ve run missions with us for months. You’ve followed every order. You’ve had every chance to kill me and run, but you haven’t.”

“And what if I run now?”

“Well, you’ll make me look very, very stupid.” He sets his bag down on the couch, looking at her. Seeing her. It’s not a sensation she’s grown used to. “But I believe you’re not going to run, Nat.”

“Belief is for children.” But she eases her bag down, making her way over to examine the bedroom. It’s small, but the bed looks new. Someone’s made it up for her, the smell of fresh sheets lingering in the air.

“Maybe,” Clint allows. “I figured you’d want something more concrete. So.”

She turns around to see him holding out a file. She takes it, flicking through the paperwork.

“You just have to sign,” Clint continues. “And it’s your name on the deed. You can stay here, sell it and get something you like better, whatever you want.”

Natasha snaps the file shut. “So I’ll feel grateful to you. So I’ll stay.”

Clint watches her for a moment. “Because you’re a person and you deserve somewhere to live where you’re not a prisoner.”

Natasha swallows back something sour, threatening to spill over. “Fury’s going to have me watched for the rest of my life. This is just for show.”

“You don’t think he’s got tabs on me too? I didn’t exactly have the smoothest introduction to SHIELD either. But if anyone can escape the eye of Nick Fury, it’s you. And he knows that. He’s willing to loosen the reigns anyway.”

Natasha gingerly sits on the edge of the bed. It’s soft and clean and, if she wants it, hers.

That sour feeling grows. She doesn’t even realize her hands are shaking until Clint sits on the bed next to her, encircling her wrists in calloused hands. “Natasha. Talk to me.”

She knows she shouldn’t. To talk without a goal is to show weakness. But that feeling in her gut won’t abate. It’s not new. She’s just always been able to push it down, ignore it, focus on the mission. She is made of marble. She doesn’t crack.

She’s also so, so tired of holding herself together. “I don’t deserve this.”

“The longer you work for SHIELD, the more freedom you’ll gain, I promise.”

But Natasha shakes her head. “I don’t deserve this.”

Clint goes very still beside her, realizing. “Natasha—”

“You don’t know.” She snaps back to herself, ripping herself out of his hold. “Whatever files you have on me, they don’t even scrape the surface of what I’ve done. You don’t know.”

“I know you didn’t have a choice,” Clint says softly. “The Red Room did those things, Nat. You were just the weapon. You don’t blame the arrow for hitting the target.”

Natasha meets his gaze, radiating the deadly calm she knows makes the most powerful men shake. Clint meets her head-on, not backing down. “The Red Room didn’t make me kill Dreykov’s daughter,” she whispers. “Antonia. That was all me, Barton. That was me. It was me.”

She’s expecting platitudes. Some speech about how killing one little girl had saved hundreds of others. About collateral damage for the greater good was always justified. About how the mission always, always came first.

He doesn’t say any of that. Instead he reaches out, and takes her hand.

The crack that splits open inside of her has been a long time coming. She’s been forcing it back for years, trying to prove that she was untouchable, unbreakable. She is perfect. She is the best. She’s never been allowed to be anything else.

She expects the first guttural scream that rips its way up her throat to send Clint running for the hills. It doesn’t. Instead he moves closer, letting her scream into his chest, over and over and over again.

Natasha doesn’t know how long they sit like that, but finally she slumps, her throat raw, her cheeks wet. A part of her knows she should be embarrassed, that this kind of weakness should never be tolerated, but she’s too exhausted to care. She feels wrung out, empty. She also feels lighter, as though she’s finally laid down a weight she’s been carrying since she can remember.

“Okay,” she hears Clint murmuring in her ear. “You’re okay.”

“Tired,” she whispers.

“That’s okay too. You want to go to bed?”

When Natasha pulls back, she sees his cheeks are wet too. Neither of them mention it. She lays back on the mattress, letting Clint take her shoes off and arrange the sheets around her like she’s a child. He goes to leave, but she reaches out, catching his wrist, asking the forbidden question. “Will you stay?”

She’s rewarded with a small smile, and for the first time, she sees him clearly. This isn’t a trick. This isn’t some elaborate con to get her to switch sides. She fell apart and he didn’t leave. He has cracks in his own marble that will never be fixed.

He climbs into bed next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. She’s exhausted. She’s been exhausted for a long time. And here, falling asleep in a bed that she owns, next to a person she trusts, Natasha finally manages to rest.

[cyjammy]

I’m Doing It, I’m Talking About Them:

No, this isn’t a comparison about delivery or the voices. I respect both of the VAs and Viv’s choice. I’m not a song analyst nor do I claim to know anything about music, I just love writing and want to share my thoughts.

First off, both songs have me in a chokehold. When Addict came out a few years ago I was there for the premiere, in a period where it was all I would listen to on repeat for weeks, watching how beautiful the animation was and just being excited for the release of Hazbin in general.

Since the sudden release of Poison, I have been listening to it on repeat. After a year of not listening to Addict, I’ve been listening to that as well and comparing them.

Both unique in their own right, they do share similar themes since they surround Angel Dust’s life as a prostitute with an over controlling boss.

Since it was a fan song (praise Silva Hound, I love all his music), Addict was primarily focused on the hotel. There wasn’t much known about the series outside of the pilot and the occasional Huni-cast or livestream Q & A on Viv’s channel.

And it was impressive that so much could be portrayed with limited knowledge about Angel.

The repetitiveness of living the same life day by day, the pressure of perfection when it came to performing, knowing that one mistake could render him obsolete and forfeit his “life.”

Angel Dust is strong despite having all these vices. He keeps moving forward even when he is bed ridden from his trauma.

How Valentino treats him is horrendous period. He’s most likely under contract and doesn’t have a choice, but he tries his best to show it doesn’t bother him and puts up a strong front.

When Vivzie put her spin on the song with those fantastic visuals and her own image of Angel Dust (props to the animators, they KILLED it), it took the song to new heights. We were given so much more context into what the tone of Hazbin would be.

And it was all through the lens of this upbeat pop song with all these effects and explosions until the slower moments with Angel Dust breaking down with only Cherri to support him. And the reprise of the chorus was even more emotional.

My mind was blown! The pilot took a much more lighthearted approach to introduce the characters and put the idea out there.

Addict is the point where Angel Dust acknowledges his flaws and hopes he can have a place to be safe from the hellish life he is living in the Hotel.

Through Poison, we’re getting an in depth look into Angel Dust’s feelings and experiences as a product of the industry. It’s focused more on his feelings as a pornstar under an oppressive thumb.

He knows he’s in a situation he can’t escape and numbs himself with drugs to keep himself afloat.

He has regrets in Poison and puts a focus on Valentino leading him to this life, but he acknowledges that he definitely played the largest part in it.

The decision to make a deal with a demon.

He wanted the attention and the party life, but he definitely didn’t sign up to be SA’ed.

And battered, manipulated, beaten and broken.

Nobody would.

There is also a focus on how he is keeping up a lie to hide from the pain, becoming what he hated most

Angel lies just as much as Valentino.

Angel knows if he keeps obeying Valentino and ignoring his pain, he’ll die again, possibly a much more painful death than in life. But it’s all he knows as of now since it has kept him alive for so long.

And it may keep him alive or that luck might run out. There are no guarantees with someone as malevolent and despicable as Valentino.

He struggles to go on, and it takes a much more different approach than Addict, which ended on a hopeful note, but in Poison…

I feel like the animation is definitely going to go farther than the few suggestive scenes in Addict.

It just makes me think Angel will not last until the end of the series.

Angel Dust is definitely going to be way more complex than most of the cast. He keeps up appearances when in large groups, but when he’s alone or thinks nobody is watching (Husk pointing out his “drinking to forget” in the trailer) he’ll definitely show his true self.

All these defenses and walls were put in place to keep him alive, so much so it’s a habit. Hopefully he may try to become better and free himself from Valentino.

Or he’ll keep working as a pornstar for eternity.

Whichever direction the story goes will definitely be entertaining.

To conclude my long ass babbling and screaming into the void, I’m excited for Hazbin Hotel and can’t wait to see what direction Vivzie takes in terms of storytelling for her wonderful show. I’m so ready for the 19th!

[littlemisssquiggles]

Y’know what would be unintentionally ironic but somewhat expected?

If V9 ended on a cliffhanger with RWBYJ returning from the Ever After and reuniting with their comrades on the other side only to learn that Oscar was missing…again.

As us Pineheads in the RWBY community are aware of, it is literally a meme at this point for Oscar Pine to go missing/end up lost at some point during a season. The only two seasons he didn’t go missing in are V4 and V5---the two seasons he was introduced in. V4 being his debut season and V5 being the first time he met the hero team. So on that front, those seasons don’t count.

But for the seasons following:

V6--- Oscar went missing in Argus following a scuffle with Jaune.

V7--- Oscar went missing in Atlas after getting separated from JNR thanks to Neo, shot to his death by General Ironwood only to end up down in Mantle

V8--- Oscar went missing in Mantle after getting kidnapped by the Hound and taken to Monstra to be tortured by Salem and Hazel; leading his comrades on a mission to save him.

I wasn’t kidding when I said Oscar is literally the wandering sheep of the hero team once upon at time. They keep losing him in some shape or form each volume. So I feel like it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch if Ruby and the others came back to Remnant to learn from the others that Oscar is missing yet again, probably for some time after running away and disappearing into the desert in a desperate attempt to find the missing RWBYJ.

Oscar draws inspiration from the little prince fairy-tale character and part of the prince’s story took place in a desert where he found himself lost along with the Pilot as company.

 Let’s say…learning the news that RWBYJ all disappeared following the attack at the portal devastated Oscar.

So much so, that even after meeting with the allies in Vacuo and arriving safely at Shade Academy, Oscar wanted to return to the desert to search for their missing comrades; wanting to believe they were still alive somehow.

But since Vacuo was under siege thanks to Salem’s forces attacking Shade Academy for the Summer Maiden and the Relic of Destruction, the other huntsmen had exhausted themselves and their resources trying to defend the school and its kingdom to the point that they could no longer focus on finding a few missing huntsmen when they were trying to protect the lives of many innocent people.

So ultimately, Oscar is given no other choice than to go off on his own to find RWBYJ. I also have this theory of Oscar finding Mercury in the desert after he was presumed left for dead by Tyrian Callows.

My theory is that Tyrian would double cross Mercury as soon as they arrived in Vacuo, believing him to be a potential traitor to Salem or something along those lines.

Perhaps Oscar and Mercury end up bonding which ultimately leads to them being forced to join forces as Tyrian returned to finish Mercury off and take Oscar to Salem with an army of Grimm Beringels in his stead.

And as us Pineheads are also aware of, in the original Little Prince tale, the prince was poisoned by a snake with his story ending on the presumption that he died and was never able to reunite with his beloved rose.

It wouldn’t be too much of a stretch to have Oscar be poisoned by Tyrian since he is a Scorpion Faunus.

But unlike his fairytale counterpart, Oscar will get to reunite with his rose as Ruby, in her reborn form, would come find and save him in the desert leading to a emotionally heartfelt reunion between them.

Or so I’d like to imagine.

I mean I could end up being very much wrong about Oscar disappearing at all.

But at the same time, I also wouldn’t be too surprised if I’m correct in my assumption because let's just face it, these CRWBY showrunners just love to write this former farm boi as a lost boy.

Shoot I predict Oscar being in danger at least twice if there was to be a V10 since he's still needed alive by Salem inorder to reveal the true location of the Chamber of Choice---the final relic.

So sorry Pineheads, we got some more worrying to do for our boy moving forward. But if it leads to more potential moments between him and his rose, I'd say it'd be worth the added angst.

~LMS (2023)

[rose-pearls]

Mission gone wrong

It was still dark outside, the first ray of sunshine coming through the morning daze. She was sitting outside, holding the cover around her body, like it would somehow ground her. She takes a deep breath and the scent of his cologne make her release a shuddering breath, holding onto it even tighter. 

The last few days had been a daze, she didn’t know what day of the week it was she just knew everything would be ending today. She hadn’t moved a lot in the last few days, sleeping in the living room because she couldn’t go back to their room. The rest of the time she was here, in the backyard looking at the rose bushes that he always took care of because these were her favorite.

A hand on her arms shakes her out of her daze and she sees Hangman looking at her worried, a cup of tea in his hand. She takes it and turns back to the rose bushes remembering his laughter as they planted them. It takes her a few seconds to realize that Hangman is talking to her. 

“We need to get ready. The ceremony is in an hour.”, she closes her eyes and nods numbly, it had been like that since the news came through, numb. 

She lets him help her to the guest room, they probably went to pick her dress in her bedroom knowing she wouldn’t be able to go in there. The black dress looks simple, and she remembers buying it for her grandmother’s funeral. A few minutes later a knock can be heard on the door before Maverick appears looking at her with a grim expression.

“We’re ready when you are.”, they all leave the house in silence, the sun appearing behind the clouds and she feels sick, for the first time feeling something else then numbness. 

There are a few people at the cemetery waiting for the ceremony, recruits ready with their guns. She sees the rest of the Dagger Squad already in their formal uniforms. She vaguely thinks she will be able to pull through the ceremony until she sees the casket covered with the flag and she has to turn around. 

Maverick puts a hand on her arm, and she takes a deep breath, trying to get her emotions under control.

“I know it’s hard, but the faster we do this the faster it’s done.”, he says quietly, and she nods quickly, turning back towards the casket trying not to throw up at the sight of the picture. 

They start the ceremony, and she joins Maverick, trying to keep her emotions at bay, she hadn’t felt anything in the few days after the announcement of his death but now she couldn’t even get her emotions straight at the sight of his smiling picture. 

“We are reunited here to honor Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd.”, the rest of the speech drowns out, she just comes back to reality when Phoenix steps up to slam the wings into the casket. She looks pale, eyes red and tears filling her eyes as she looks straight towards the picture of her WSO. Phoenix looks back at her and she just nods, trying to not cry as she slams her fist down and the gunshots can be heard in the distance. The flag tight in her hands, she can’t help but close her eyes as everyone starts to move.

Maverick’s hand squeezes her arms, and she opens her eyes slowly, seeing Phoenix still in place looking at Bob’s picture with her hand open on the wings into the casket. She squeezes Maverick’s hand before going towards the pilot and putting herself next to her. 

Everyone leaves, leaving the two of you looking at the picture of the smiling man. A few seconds later you can hear Phoenix sniffle next to you, trying to keep herself together.

“I don’t blame you; you know that right? Just like he doesn’t blame you.”, you whisper, your voice hoarse from not talking the last few days. The pilot looks at you, but you look at the smiling Bob and you know you are right. Bob would’ve never blamed Phoenix for anything, he knew the risks of flying and still went up because he loved it. 

“He isn’t here anymore, and I guess we need to accept that.”, you whisper barely able to finish your sentence, finally feeling the tears that were absent when you heard the news of your husband’s death.

Phoenix chokes on a sob and you close your eyes, feeling the tears slip out and roll down your cheeks.

“It should’ve been me.”, she croaks out and you feel sick at those words, turning towards her and taking her into your arms.

“It shouldn’t have been anyone, but I know that Bob would’ve never wanted you to think that. He always used to talk about your flying and how much he loved flying with you Nat.”, she holds you even tighter and you can’t help but sob into her shoulder as memories of Bob fill your mind. 

“So, just got married, how does that feel?”, he asks you teasingly and you can’t help but laugh as he brings you close to him, starting to sway the both of you in the hallway.

“I’m enjoying it for the moment.”, you say, and he laughs softly.

“Good, I’m going to make sure you enjoy every second of it.”, you can’t help but look at him with utter love in your eyes.

-

“These look horrible.”, you say while laughing, Bob looks at you with eyes full of laughter.

“I think we should just watch baking shows and not bake.”, he says while laughing and the two of you laugh while looking at the burnt cookies. 

-

“I always dreamed of having a big family.”, he whispers one day against your skin, as the two of you are in bed.

“Yeah? How many kids?” you ask softly, and you feel his smile on your skin.

“Two or more.”, you can’t help but chuckle at his words.

“Why don’t we start with one, mister Floyd.”, you say teasingly, and Bob looks up with wide hopeful eyes.

“You want to try having kids?”, you can’t help but smile at his excitement.

“Of course, I do, wouldn’t want to have them with anyone else. Now get here.”, Bob doesn’t complain and brings you into a kiss that slowly turns into more.

Phoenix leaving your embrace wakes you up from your daydream and you look at her with a reassuring smile, although it must look like a grimace. 

“I’ll be there for you, anything you need you tell me.”, you smile softly at her words, determination settling into her eyes.

“I think I will need your help with something.”, you whisper softly, turning to look at Bob’s picture.

“Of course, anything.”, you nod slowly, feeling tears forming again and you brush your hand over the wings on his casket.

“I was going to tell Bob when he came back from the mission, but I’m-”, you can’t help but take a deep breath and close your eyes as you try to tell Phoenix.

“I’m pregnant.”, the two words lay between you before Phoenix brings you into a bone crushing hug, you stay there for some time and at one point you feel a couple of other arms around you. The Dagger Squad holding each other while Bob’s casket is being brought down.

You know deep down that everything will be alright, he will always be there with you and as you look at the small bundle in your arms that looks so much like his dad you know he is there.

[fanby-fckry]

I have decided that Niffty is a Gemini.

I’m not all that interested in astrology irl – at least not star signs – but it’s a fun way to assign birthdays, and I need one for an upcoming fic.

I originally tried taking this test from her perspective, but it didn’t give me results that matched up with my portrayal of her.

Wound up just googling the signs and manually assigning her one.

Used one site (allure) because I’m not doing a deep dive on Zodiacs for what is essentially a throwaway reference. Here are some choice quotes, and how they relate to my version of Niffty:

Content Warning: animal death/cruelty in the form of Niffty-typical pest control

Have you ever been so busy that you wished you could clone yourself just to get everything done? That's the Gemini experience in a nutshell. Spontaneous, playful, and adorably erratic, Gemini is driven by its insatiable curiosity.

I think that one’s pretty self-explanatory. If I had to pick two words to describe Niffty, “adorably erratic,” sums her up pretty well.

Because of Geminis' intrinsic duality, they're often falsely misrepresented as two-faced. In reality, however, Gemini rarely has a hidden agenda.

I write mostly pilot!Niffty, mixed with headcanons and some series canon. So, 50’s housewife who genuinely takes pride in her role, practices manners, considers herself to be ladylike, throws herself into cooking, cleaning, and mending, has an idealized and black and white version of romance and womanhood and very much holds herself – though not necessarily others – to that very high standard.

And also the woman who takes immense pleasure in stabbing pests, writes smutty RPF fanfic for people she personally knows, keeps collections of people’s hair/fluff, and summoned a demon using animal sacrifices on multiple occasions.

She’s not intentionally two-faced, but she does very much have two conflicting sides to her personality, which she holds in equal measure.

These hyperactive air signs have short attention spans and are most satisfied when they can move fluidly from one idea to the next.

I’ve seen Niffty described as “OCD” before, but I’m not sure if there’s anything to that besides the armchair psych, ‘cleaning = OCD’ thing.

However, as someone with ADHD, I can definitely see some aspects of hyperactivity and attention deficit in her. Specifically, the fact that she seems to become hyperfocused on tasks like cleaning, but is easily distracted in other contexts.

She basically narrates her train of thought on the pilot: *polite and enthusiastic introduction* (manners first) -> It’s been a while since I made new friends -> -> *notices everyone but Alastor is fem-presenting and thinks they’re all women* -> Why are you all women? -> (I like men best) Aren’t there any men here? -> *physically lifts Charlie in search of men* -> *remembers manners* -> I’m sorry, that was rude -> *gets distracted by mess* -> Oh man, this place is filthy! It could really use a lady’s touch -> *remembers that she has (mistakenly) identified all of the hotel’s occupants as women* -> Which is weird because you’re all ladies offense (manners) -> *remembers mess* -> *hyperfixates on cleaning*

Honestly, the Niffty ADHD headcanon should probably be its own post. Moving on!

Gemini expresses emotions externally

Communication is paramount for them, and they require fluent streams of transmission.

*gestures to aforementioned inner-turned-outer monologue*

She’s a lot quieter in the series, but she does still butt into conversations she wasn’t previously a part of with usually irrelevant commentary.

In fact, the act of expression is often even more important to loquacious Gemini than what is actually being said

Just… everything she says in the series.

Another incredible Gemini quality, however, is that these natural chameleons can quickly recover from even the most shameful foot-in-mouth moments. Gemini moves too fast to care about embarrassing missteps: They simply move on.

A quick apology or a “no offense” is all it takes Niffty to move past most social faux pas, and most criticism seem to just bounce off of her.

So yeah. Gemini!Niffty.