Star Wars Fic - Tumblr Posts

Headcanons: Hugs w/ Poe

Warnings: none

i may or may not have written this bc i had a dream i hugged poe last night and it made me cry

ok first off he's fucking jacked

so his hugs are suffocating but in the best way possible

if he's wearing his flight suit it'll puff up around you and create this mini cocoon of coziness and warmth and you feel so safe

one of his favorite things to do is sneak up behind you and wrap his arms around you

it's caused a couple accidents - one time you got so startled you stumbled back and stomped on his foot

he didn't mind

the best part of your day is coming home to your quarters and collapsing into his arms, especially if it's been a rough day

speaking of rough days, he can always tell if you need a break from the hectic bustling of base - if you need to take a step back and just recharge

he'll pull you aside into some hallway or closet and tuck you into his chest until you feel better

you'd never tell him, but the sound of his heartbeat as you rest against him is your favorite sound in the whole world

he discovered a while ago that if he gets you to sit down next to him, wraps an arm around you, and strokes the bridge of your nose with his pinky, you'll go out like a light

it becomes useful later in the war when you won't let yourself sleep ("why would I be sleeping when I could be doing something? helping people?" "you need sleep to function.")

another thing he loves doing is resting his chin on the top of your head and pressing kisses to your hair if you need help calming down

he uses that one a lot during missions, especially as they get more and more intense

physical touch is something that helps ground the both of you, and he loves that he can just shower you with love and affection almost anytime (almost = when you're not holding hot coffee - he's not going to make that mistake again.)

taglists:

permanent: @staarshines

poe: @zoriis @obiwns

Consequences of Anger-Spurred Outbursts

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Fem!Solo*!Reader

*(mainly bc i just wanted reader to be leia's daughter for comedic reasons, it's an easy bit to ignore if you'd like to do so)

Summary: After learning some information about one of your pilots, you go a little haywire. Poe is both impressed and a little shocked.

Word Count: 1700 ish

Warnings: dumbass men, punching, minor injuries

You were just about up to your neck in reasons to hurl the nearest wrench across the hangar. The mission had gone well, but what it going well entailed was driving you up the wall. You and Poe had been sent by Leia to meet General Calrissian about some troubling information he’d picked up in some backwater bar on Ryloth. Apparently, one of the Resistance’s pilots was dirty - selling out intel about Rebel tech to the First Order in exchange for credits. Even worse, Lando’s information had confirmed one of your deepest, most buried worries. That it was someone in your squadron.

You’d tried to remain impartial to the pilots under your command in the long extent you’d been on base, but Dext Stamat had always struck you as a little off. Rude, toeing the line of insubordination on multiple occasions, and always asking too many questions. Of course, curiosity and ambition among your pilots was usually a good thing. It meant that they were engaged, interested in the cause, and you always loved sharing the knowledge you’d picked up as you've traveled across the galaxy. However, Stamat had strange habits of asking for details about upcoming missions that even you didn’t know yet. It had unnerved you from the beginning of his stint in your squadron, especially as his questions began to coincide with mishaps, even smaller ones, that began to throw off missions of larger and larger scales.

And now, you knew why. That dirty, dirty pig.

You were going to skin him alive.

“Just wait 'til I get my hands on that piece of shit,” you snarl as Poe attempts to discreetly wrestle you away from the hustle and bustle of the main hangar to the tarmac outside. It’s best if this conversation goes unheard.

“I know you want to, and for a good reason, but you can’t. Leia- General Organa needs him alive. If he’s been communicating with the First Order, that means he knows how they’re operating, to a certain extent. He’s valuable to her. To us.” You sigh, letting the frustrated noise signal your reluctant agreement. He’s right, after all; Dext is a dirtbag, but he’s a dirtbag that could get you some leads. You take a deep breath, starting to feel yourself cool off.

“Hey, did you see me out there? I bet Dameron couldn’t do that.”

You furrow your brows, turning your head to find the source of your confusion.

Poe’s grip on your hands tightens as Dex and his pack of buddies (more like lower-level fighters that follow him around out of pure fear) enter the hangar. He’s boasting about a recent flight, of course. When is he not? Your blood boils in your veins, a roaring sound creeping into your ears as he rambles on and on about how he’d executed a double loop. It’s pretty basic, jackass. My mom could fly better than you.

You can feel your cheeks start to heat. Poe notices, and wisely lets you go. It’s best if he lets you handle this on your own. You wouldn’t do anything brash, would you? No, he decides. You wouldn’t do anything.

He watches as you casually stroll past the group of men, leaning on a nearby fighter and picking at your nails with a spare screwdriver you’d found on your way over. From your spot closer to the pilot, you can hear every word tumbling carelessly out of his mouth.

“Yeah, I just punched it. Let ‘em eat my space dust, if you know what I mean.” He tilts his head back, guffawing at his own joke. The group around him quickly lets out a round of polite laughs, nervously glancing back and forth between Stamat and each other. “I straight-up smoked them, I tell you. I’d like to see Pretty Boy Poe pull that one off.” No longer able to contain yourself, you clear your throat, relishing the momentary look of bewilderment on Dext’s overexaggerated features. It doesn’t last long, unfortunately. His beady eyes quickly harden, lips tilting into a smirk.

“Hey, Solo.”

“That’s Commander Solo to you, Dex.” Using his nickname’s a low blow, you know that, but you just can’t put up with his bullshit anymore. Especially not after being told of what he’s been doing - what he’s cost you. Who he’s cost you. His jaw sets into a sharp line, and he lets out a low, raw noise that almost sounds like a growl.

“Oh, is that so, Commander?” he says mockingly, and you sigh, not meeting his eyeline as you return your attention to your gritty nails. Damn flight gloves - you should probably clean them more often. You smile inwardly as he grumbles with annoyance.

“You know, Stamat, I’d be more careful about how you treat superior officers,” you say lightly, tilting your head to meet his gaze. He sneers down at you, momentarily glancing back. You follow his sightline, to see Poe standing against a far wall.

“Why?” he whines comically, toying with you. “Or you’ll report me to your boyfriend?” You glare at him, and he just offers you his pathetic attempt at a simpering smile. “You look pretty worn out, Commander. Have you two been busy lately?” he asks, snickering. The roaring sound in your ears gets a little louder. It mingles with the sound of boots against concrete as Poe makes his way over. He’d heard that last comment.

“You heard her, Stamat. Watch it,” he warns. You cringe inwardly. Poe, why? Just let me deal with him. Please. Dext just ignores him, the only indication he’s aware of his presence being an offhand glance over his head.

“Aw, do you need him to come fight your battles for you?” he asks, chuckling. “How cute. You know, if this short stack of griddle cakes isn’t doing it for you, my quarters are always unlocked.”

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” you say, taking a step forward. Poe grins as Stamat stumbles back.

That’s my girl.

“Oh, yeah, trust me, I can give you so much more than flyboy over here,” he sneers. He opens his mouth to spew some more infuriating bantha fodder, but the only sound that exits his mouth is a high-pitched yelp as your fist soars upwards and connects with his jaw. His heavy form collapses to the tarmac, and his eyes shudder closed. Poe freezes, turning to face you.

“Y/N!”

“WHAT?”

“You punched him!”

“Eh,” is all you say, before picking Stamat up by the arms and dragging him inside. Poe watches you exit the hangar, not knowing if he should worry about how mad Leia’s going to be or marvel at how strong you are.

After a few moments, he snaps out his trance and jogs into the building, following the trail of confused, concerned stares you’d left in your wake all the way up to the General’s small office in the middle of the base. He catches up to you just outside the door. You seem unfazed as you tote Dex’s rather large body around, and he just watches, in awe, as you drag him into the office.

Of all the things General Leia Organa thought she’d see today, Poe Dameron leaning in her doorway while her fuming daughter drags in the limp body of a pilot to her was not one of them. Still, it wasn’t totally out of left quadrant, so she just sighs, sits down on her small couch, and says: “You have five minutes.”

To her shock, one of the usual rambling verbal essays she can often predict when talking with Commander Dameron doesn’t come. You just stretch your fingers and approach her, boots thudding softly against the floor.

“General Calrissian told us that this one here-” you pause to jerk your thumb downwards to the unconscious pilot who is now drooling on her carpet. “-has been selling us out. Giving details to the First Order about our new ships and weaponry. I’ve had a bad feeling about him for months, and now I know why. Do with that what you will. I’m gonna take tomorrow off. I injured my hand.” And with that, you walk out of her office, rubbing your knuckles. Poe stares after you, and the General waves a hand, dismissing him. He offers her an apologetic smile, then dashes out of the room.

He falls into step beside you, shooting a glance in your direction. His eyebrows shoot skyward as he surveys the poorly restrained satisfaction written on your face. For fuck's sake, you're grinning.

“Why in gods’ name are you smiling right now?” he asks, and you chuckle.

“I’ve always wanted to do that.” He pauses, staring at you. Your stomach drops. He looks offended. A muddled apology begins to tumble from your lips, but your words halt on your tongue as he bursts into laughter, takes your face in his hands, and presses his lips to yours.

“I love you so much,” he murmurs, and you turn away, face warming. Smirking, Poe brushes a few stray hairs from your face. He finds it incredibly satisfying that you can knock a 6’4 dude out cold, yet he can still fluster you in the blink of an eye. He goes to take your hand, but you pull away, hissing.

“I wasn’t kidding when I said I hurt my hand,” you say, and he blanches, concerned. “Don’t worry, just a little bruising.” He relaxes visibly, and you grab the corner of his jacket. He swings around to face you. “However, I think it is mandatory that you come watch a HoloVid with me and eat a slightly unhealthy amount of popcorn.”

“You just learned we’ve been sold out to the First Order and all you can think about is a sleepover?” he asks incredulously, not admitting he'd been on the verge of proposing the exact same plan.

“We’ve got a couple of days before we can do anything about it,” you say, and Poe narrows his eyes at you. He knows you’re right, of course. Grinning, you fix your eyes to his, pouting out your bottom lip slightly. Godsdamnit, you’re adorable when you do that, he thinks, finally conceding with a nod and an exaggerated eye roll. “Yessss,” you cheer through your teeth, pumping a fist in the air.

Poe chuckles, wrapping an arm around you and pressing a kiss to your hair. All things considered, this was shaping up to be a relatively decent afternoon.

taglists:

permanent: @staarshines

poe: @zoriis @obiwns

Take a Break

Pairing: Poe Dameron x GN!Reader (modern!au)

Word count: 540

Warnings: brief mentions of alcohol

Summary: You and Poe share a much-needed quiet moment together during a party

A/N: Can be read romantically or platonically

The sounds of the party drift out into the cold night air, past where you sit on the small balcony and down into the city beyond. You shiver, wrapping your coat tighter around you as a breeze tickles the back of your neck. Inhaling deeply, you savor the fresh air you slipped away to enjoy.

You love hanging out with your friends, of course. It can just get overwhelming at times, so you like to find small moments like these to savor by yourself.

The sound of the door opening behind you stirs you from your thoughts, and you don’t need to turn to recognize Poe’s footsteps as he approaches and sits beside you, crossing his legs and wrapping an arm around you. You lean your head down onto his shoulder, scooting closer to take advantage of his body heat. He chuckles, sensing what you’re doing and pulling you into his side.

“Just wanted to check on you,” he says, following your eyeline and looking up at the scene that stretches on forever above you, bright stars twinkling against the dark backdrop of the sky.

“I’m all right,” you respond, nodding. “Just needed a break from everyone.”

Poe hums his understanding.

“I can go back inside if you need more time,” he says, and you can tell it’s genuine. You shake your head, smiling softly.

“You don’t count as everyone,” you say.

“I’m honored. Truly.” You laugh, shoving him playfully. The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, the only sound being the traffic far below you and the occasional muffled shout drifting to your ears from the gathering inside.

“I went to that library earlier today,” you tell him. Poe looks at you, smiling fondly.

“The one you read about?”

“Yeah. It was really cool, they had this huge display case with all these old manuscripts. I need to take you there sometime. You’d like it.”

“Definitely,” he says, lifting his hand from your shoulder to brush back a few strands of hair that had fallen in your face.

“What time is it?” you ask, realizing you’d left your watch at home and your phone in Rey’s bedroom.

“8:19,” Poe says, looking down at his phone, the soft blue glow from the screen washing over his features.

A loud cheer from inside draws your attention, and you turn your head to see what caused it. You chuckle softly as you watch Jess and Finn down a row of shots at an alarming rate. Poe’s laugh bubbles in your ear, making you smile even wider.

“I think it’s best if we head back to make sure they don’t do something outlandishly disastrous,” you laugh. As the ones who volunteered to drive people home for the night, you and Poe are the only ones not drinking.

“Probably,” he laughs, standing up. He offers you his hand, and you take it, smiling gratefully at him as he helps you to your feet. “If you need another break let me know and I’ll cover for you,” he says quietly, pulling open the sliding glass door. A loud chorus of laughter and cheers sound at your arrival.

“Thanks,” you murmur out of the corner of your mouth, and he nods.

“Anytime.”

tags: @staarshines @obiwns @zoriis

A Wrench In the Gears

Pairing: Poe Dameron & Lesbian!Best friend!reader, background Rose Tico x reader (mentioned)

Summary: You've been wanting to tell Poe something for a while, and you finally get the courage to do it.

aka reader comes out to poe and he's the best friend ever

Word Count: 826

Warnings: Brief mentions of homophobia

A/N: I'm back!! tysm for being patient! decided to write this bc there's like zero fics like this for poe and my lesbian ass is TIRED anyways ily mwah happy reading

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You shove your hands into your pockets, doing your best to quell your nerves. Shit like this is never easy, but you want to do it. You really do.

It’s just hard.

Today was quiet. Fixing up Black One with Poe in the hangar while the two of you waited for the other half of your friends - Rey and Finn - to come back from a supply run had been a nice reprieve from how hectic life on base has been recently. Everything had been going smoothly until Rose had come over to offer her help and you’d, well, panicked. Let’s just say you dropped a not-so-light wrench on your foot and had to go to med bay.

Poe had been on your ass for the rest of the day, making you rest and pestering you about what had happened. You simply brushed him off throughout the course of his multiple attempts, laughing off his questions with a nervous heat in your cheeks and then dashing off with some excuse or the other.

Needless to say, your best friend didn’t take kindly to being ignored. You’d gone to ask him for the name of a ship part to put on an order list and he’d taken your datapad from you, scribbled it down, then stalked off, leaving you feeling guilty and upset with yourself.

He’d avoided you the rest of the day.

Standing outside of his quarters now, you take a deep breath. Your nerves make your stomach churn, and you try not to turn on your heel and bolt in the opposite direction.

Finally, you drum up the courage to knock, using the pattern the two of you had established to signify if one of you needed something important.

There’s a long moment of quiet before you hear a faint “Come in”.

Poe’s sitting at his desk, fiddling with a flap of metal and some bolts, tools littered across the flat expanse below his hands.

“Hey,” you say quietly, flinching slightly as his cold gaze meets your wary one. Sitting down on his bed, you kick off your shoes and then curl your feet under you. “Can we talk? About today?”

Poe takes a moment to think, before nodding reluctantly and setting down the scraps. He turns his chair around to face you, then sits back down.

“Sure. I’ll start. What the hell?”

“I’m sorry,” you say quickly, pulling one of his extra blankets into your lap, threading your fingers in between the gaps between the strands of yarn. “I, uh…” trailing off, you guiltily meet his eyes, sighing. He raises his eyebrows, the coldness in his features slowly melting as he realizes there’s something troubling you.

“Is everything ok?” he asks, standing up and walking across the room to stand in front of you. He crouches down so he’s at your eye level, taking one of your hands.

“Yeah,” you say, nodding. “Well, sort of? I just need to explain why I acted the way I did. This is gonna be a lot easier for me if you just let me finish and don’t interrupt, ok? Just...yeah.”

“Sure,” he says, squeezing your hand. You offer him a weak smile.

“So, I hurt my foot because I dropped that tool on it.” Poe nods, remembering. “It was because Rose came over. It caught me a bit off guard, because, well…” Tears begin welling up in your eyes as your anxiety gets the better of you. “I may or may not have feelings for her. I have for a while. I don’t...I like women. Not men. And I didn’t know how you would feel about it, and I’m sorry for not telling you, but I just wasn’t- I wasn’t ready to tell anyone. But yeah, I guess that’s it. I’m sorry.”

You’re shocked to find Poe smiling at you when you finally meet his gaze again.

“You aren’t...upset?” you ask, confused. Poe looks taken aback.

“Of course not. Who you love doesn’t change anything about how I think about you. You’re still you. Hell, you’re more you. I love you so much, nothing could ever change that, ok?” he says, and you start crying in earnest. He panics, eyes widening. “Shit, did I say something wrong, I’m so s-”

“No, Poe, I just- I’m relieved,” you choke out, smiling tearfully at him.

“Aw, c’mere,” he says, sitting down next to you and opening his arms. You bury your face in his neck, and he wraps you in a tight hug, rubbing comforting circles on your back for as long as it takes for you to calm down.

“You’re a really good friend,” you say as you pull away after several minutes, smiling at him. He does a happy little shoulder dance.

“Duh.”

“It’s no fun if you agree with the compliment,” you groan, punching his shoulder playfully.

“It’s fun for me,” he points out, giving you a shit-eating grin.

“Fuck you.”

“Love you too.”

tags: @staarshines @bucky-j-barnes @beydameron @obiwns

* if your @ isn't underlined/highlighted, i can't tag you *

Daisies

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader (Hanahaki!au)

Warnings: Blood, Somewhat graphic description of death, probably a shit ton of typos bc it's 3 am and I'm not ab to proofread this

Summary: You're so in love with Poe Dameron it's killing you. Literally.

A/N: this is half vent piece, half i've-wanted-to-write-this-for-a-while. also i changed how the disease "works" just a little bit for plot purposes.

You used to like daisies. That was before you were staring them down every few hours, leaned over the sink, blood dripping from your cracked lips.

You used to like Poe Dameron. That was before he started killing you.

Then again, you guess you still did. That’s why you were in this situation, after all.

At first, you’d ignored the signs of what you’d hoped wasn’t love - swallowed your words, caught the butterflies in a net and tossed them outside.

But it was getting harder and harder to do so.

You didn’t have much longer. You could tell.

Leia could too.

She’d first approached you after you’d run out of a meeting to hurl up seeds and blooms, waiting outside your quarters for you with a painful expression of pity and concern written across her face. You wish she’d erased it and just let you be.

But she wouldn’t - how could she? You were dying, right in front of her, refusing to take the help she offered.

To be fair, the help she was telling you to seek out would ruin you just the same as the thorns scratching at your lungs.

Getting that surgery and forgetting him would suffocate you more than any vines wrapped around your esophagus could.

You couldn’t do it. You knew you should. After all, this whole mess was your fault anyways. Catching feelings for your best friend wasn’t anyone else's fuck up but yours.

But you didn't think you’d be able to live with yourself if you let someone take the flowers out, and with them, any trace of Poe. The real problem is that you wouldn’t technically be living with yourself. Not anymore. You weren’t really yourself without him. That was what terrified you, what ate you up with guilt.

Because you knew he felt the same way.

Well, not the same way. But you knew that he relied on you, leaned on you.

And soon enough, he’d fall over. Because you'd be gone.

It was killing you. In more ways than one.

“Please, Lieutenant, just think about it,” the General pleads with you as the two of you walk to a debriefing meeting.

“I’ve thought about it,” you respond truthfully. You had. Still do. All the time. “I don’t like it.”

You go to enter the conference room, but her firm grip on your upper arm stops you. Hissing in pain, you whirl around, your angry expression fading as you meet her eyes. Were those tears?

“How do you think I like watching you wither away?”

You smile sadly at the irony of the sentence. It quickly fades as you process what she said. You truly hadn’t considered what this must look like to her. She must think you stubborn, too prideful to ask for help. Brash and inconsiderate.

“Don’t do that,” she says, tapping a finger to your forehead. “I don’t, and you know that. But I can’t say I understand why you won’t do it.”

“I just…” you trail off, silencing your thoughts as a group of runway techs pass by. Once they’ve cleared your vicinity, you continue, “It’s the same either way.”

“How so?” She isn’t mocking you. She’s asking, genuinely. Somehow, that’s worse.

“I die either way. Or at least, a part of me does. If I don’t get the surgery, I get more time with him - maybe a few months? It’ll still be me. If I...if I do get it, it won’t be me. Not really. It takes away all memories of him. I’ve known him for too long. I’ll be a completely different person, and the worst part is that I won’t even know.” you pause, eyes growing misty. “And neither will he. He won’t understand why I’m suddenly introducing myself to him like a new acquaintance.”

Leia’s eyes soften in understanding. “I see.” She pauses, taking your hand and covering it with her other one. “Well, I can’t tell you what to do, but-”

“Technically, you can. You outrank me. You outrank everyone.”

“Like you’ve ever really listened to anything I’ve said,” she quips, her words tugging the corners of your mouth upward slightly. “But I think you should reconsider. Or, you know…” she gestures vaguely, and a knot ties itself in your stomach.

“I can’t do that. He’s…” you pinch the bridge of your nose, sighing. “If he outright says he doesn’t, I’ll collapse right there. I can’t let him see that.”

Leia’s heart hurts for you. You shouldn’t be dealing with this. Not as young as you are. Not as bright as your future was.

She doesn’t say anything else, just nods in concession and follows you inside. She notes how Poe hopefully looks at you, and how you purposefully avoid his eyes. The upset on his face is clear as glass.

It happened on a Tuesday.

You’d collapsed in your quarters, drowning as one of the thorns punctured a lung and it filled with blood.

Poe found you.

You wish he hadn’t. It would’ve been easier.

But things never really did go your way, did they?

tags: @bucky-j-barnes @beydameron @staarshines

Just Today

Pairing: Finn x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: Periods, cramps, etc.

Summary: Finn finds out about periods and goes a little crazy gets a bit overprotective

a/n: guess who's been glued to her bed with a heating pad for the last two days *screams internally* (also sorry for any typos it's 4am and i'm not gonna beta read bc i'm t i r e d)

Out of all the days, it had to be today.

You woke up feeling fine, but almost as soon as you stepped into the shower and saw blood running down your leg, you knew to brace yourself for the symptoms sure to wreak havoc on you as the day progressed.

Sighing, you pull on a looser pair of pants and a softer jacket, knowing you'll thank yourself for it later as you quickly tame your hair and slip out of your quarters into the bustling hallway, getting swept along with the flow of the base.

You head for the mess hall, a smile of relief breaking across your face when you spot Rey and Poe sitting at a table. You make a beeline for them, flopping into a seat beside the scavenger and burying your face in her shoulder.

"You too?" she asks, and you mutter a jumbled confirmation into her sweater, along with some choice swear words that make Poe chuckle. You and Rey's cycles tend to run similarly since you spend so much time together. It's nice to have someone to empathize with you when it feels like your insides are being blended into a smoothie.

She sighs, wrapping an arm around you.

"I'll be right back," Poe says, getting up from his seat and walking off to somewhere in the mess hall.

He returns a few minutes later, tapping your arm as he sits down. You look up, and he smiles warmly as he slides a paper cup across the table to you. You take it, confusion turning to pure bliss as you realize he's brought you hot chocolate.

"Thanks, Poe," you say, smiling at him as you sip at the drink, savoring the sweet taste.

"No problem," he says, nodding. "Oh, look who it is."

"Morning, everyone," Finn says, sitting down to your left. You look over at him, beaming. "Hi, honey," he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"Morning," you reply with a warm smile.

Poe gags.

"I've got to go bedazzle my trash can," he says, pretending to throw up as he walks away.

"He's so immature," Rey chides, laughing slightly. "I'll let you guys have some alone time. Y/n, let me know if you need any meds or a heating pack, okay? I've got plenty in my quarters."

"Thanks, Rey," you call after her as she walks to dispose of her breakfast dishes. She shoots you a smile over her shoulder as she goes. Finn's brows furrow.

"What's that about meds?" he asks, concerned. "Are you okay?" You nod, finishing off the last of your hot chocolate.

"I'm fine, it's just my period." He looks at you with a blank expression. "You know, my menstrual cycle?"

"Doesn't ring a bell," he says slowly, shaking his head.

"Right, sorry," you say. "It's, well..." you trail off, cheeks warming. BB-8 chirps from under the table. He'd stayed behind, knowing any work Poe was pretending to do would be pointless and unneeding of his assistance. "Sure, buddy, go ahead," you say, nodding.

The droid rattles off an extremely technical recap of how exactly your uterus is trying to get you to suffer as much as possible. You watch with amusement as Finn's face contorts at some of the symptoms. When BB-8's done, he turns to look at you, eyes wide.

"You're joking, right?" he ploys, scanning your face for a smirk or any hint this is some weird prank. You shrug, shaking your head.

"It's normal."

"You have to deal with this every single month? For a whole week?" he asks, horrified. You nod, laughing as he wraps his arms around you.

"Baby, it's fine, really," you assure him, patting him on the back.

"You're taking a day off," he says, pulling you up from the table and toward the door, throwing your cup away for you on the way. You try to resist, but you're no match for his strength.

"I can't just take a day off for cramps," you protest as he leads you down the hallway to his quarters, shaking his head.

"You are going to rest up and watch a Holovid with me until you feel better."

"I suggest you listen to your boyfriend, Commander," you hear a gravelly voice say. You turn around, nodding to Leia as she smiles at the two of you.

"Morning, General. I'll get all my work done today, I promise. Someone-" you shoot a look at Finn. "-is being a bit overprotective."

"You can't just-"

"Babe, it's fine-"

"Take the day off, Commander," Leia tells you, mirth sparkling in her eyes. "I'm not letting you collapse in my comms room again. That's an order." Finn narrows his eyes at you. You grin sheepishly at him.

"You what now," he says quietly. Leia laughs, continuing on her way to her office.

"I, uh, forgot to take pain meds one day, and I was really dehydrated and stressed. My cramps got really bad, and- FINN!" You shriek as he swoops his arms under you, hoisting you up and holding you to his chest, carrying you down the hallway. "You're the worst," you grumble as he sets you down outside his quarters. You try to sneak off as he punches in the door code, sighing with defeat as he catches your wrist and gently but firmly guides you inside.

"Rest. Now," he says, nodding to his neatly made bed. You scowl at him, kicking off your shoes nonetheless.

"I don't want to mess up your blankets," you say sarcastically. He laughs warmly, shaking his head at your teasing.

"I'll do it, then," he says, flopping backward onto his comically large pile of pillows. He grabs hold of your hands, pulling you down onto the mattress next to him with a huff. You try to squirm out of his arms as they wrap around you, but you eventually realize your labors are in vain and stop thrashing, letting him hold you.

"You're so annoying," you gripe, not quiet giving up yet. He just laughs, pressing a kiss to your temple.

"It won't kill you to take a day off. You need it," he muses, bringing a hand up to run a hand over your hair. You sigh, nodding reluctantly.

"Okay," you concede. "Just today, though."

"I promise."

You turn to face him, intertwining your legs together. You look up at him, letting a smile tug at the corners of your lips.

"Thank you for taking care of me," you say quietly, and his eyes soften.

"Of course." he presses his lips to yours, pulling you closer to him. Butterflies erupt in your stomach as you smile into the kiss and feel him do the same, the hold he has on your waist tightening. You tuck your head under his chin when the two of you pull away, breathing in the scent of his soap and whiffs of your hot chocolate.

You could take a break for today. After all, it was just what the General ordered.

taglist: @staarshines @bucky-j-barnes

𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

Captain Rex X F!Reader You aren't special. You don't have any form of magical connection to the force. So why then, are you constantly plagued by vision-like nightmares straight from the pits of Mustafar? Word Count: 4,632 Warnings: Minor swearing, minor cut to thumb, concussion, horror, mention of character death, feelings. A/N: This took so long to write when I have to spend my evenings stressing at work T_T but its here and its out, even tho no one asked for it lol. I'm quite happy with this one, it's a mix of a few different genres (?) and I'm happy with how it came out <33 hopefully whoever reads it will enjoy it just as much <33

Pure, blinding light ignited the hallways in a sterile white glow until you could almost taste the smell of disinfectant on the tip of your tongue. Distant whirring and humming of machinery filled the inside of the building, drowning out the raging storm outside. You had no kriffing clue where you were.

In a flash, the lights blacked out, one by one, until the hallway was swallowed in a momentary darkness. Your eyesight had a hard time adjusting, as the power promptly came back on, and once again you were blindsided.

Although the hallways were barren of any life, your gut churned. Anything and anyone could be lurking about, deep in the shadows where no artificial light could reach. Just like in the deep ocean, creatures lurked. They peered from below, anticipating the right moment where they could strike. Like an innocent, disoriented animal, maybe you were being carefully observed by some predator of a higher strength and intelligence. Maybe they were watching through a camera or watching you from behind the glass.

As thunder roared wildly, a loud creak travelled through the walls, all the lights in the room flickering out with a crackle.

You waited a moment, observing the ceiling expectantly. A small spark crackled from one lamp. But nothing. The power was dead.

Your gaze moved to watch the glass, the waves crashing against it with a vile ferocity, blanketing the facility you found yourself in, in further, deeper darkness. Droplets of water hung onto the glass, racing downwards with the pull of gravity, similarly to bleeding paint on a canvas.

Your body was stuck in a state of distress, and you wondered how you even got to this place. The last thing you remembered was laying in your cozy, warm, queen-sized bed, enjoying the absurdity of some comedy-based holofilm.

The last thing you expected was to find yourself standing in an unknown, bleach-scented, derelict, straight-out-of-a-horror hallway.

As the waves continued to claw at the windows, a shiver ran down your spine. A sudden coldness enveloped you, icy shadows embracing your body.

Anything could be lurking within the darkness, waiting, inching closer, anticipating.

As your vision adjusted to the darkness, you noticed something.

Your reflection moved, but you didn’t.

You blinked furiously, leaning forward and hoping that if you squinted hard enough, your eyesight would adapt to the darkness faster. Your arms wrapped around yourself, providing some warmth amidst the freezing air of the facility.

You could almost feel frost settling in your lungs.

For a split second, you wondered if this is what it felt like. If sheer cold and anxiety embraced one moments before death.

Something moved. Again.

A flash of clarity struck through you. This had to be a really, really shitty dream, you realised.

There was no possible explanation other than this being a nightmare. An overly, awfully vivid nightmare.

But there was a dull ache crackling in your fingertips, and it settled deep within your knuckles and bones as you tightened your grip on your arms, on something.

Something cold. Something hard. Something almost… Metallic.

Your subconscious seemed to clock the nature of the object before your conscious mind could.

You grazed your thumb across the object, feeling for that familiar ridge. You counted six, perfectly equal elevations. Your thumb trailed higher, feeling for the gradual thinning out of the instrument. Until the pain registered in your mind, and a warm sensation enveloped the delicate pad of your thumb in a pooling droplet of blood.

A… Scalpel.

Bile teased at your throat, burning and scratching its’ way up, yearning to see the surface. You quickly averted your gaze, the tool dropping to the floor with a hollow clank.

This felt too real to just be another shitty nightmare.

As you glanced into the window again, you caught a glimpse of a shift in the shadows. It was slight, so subtle you were convinced it was just your imagination playing up again.

Suddenly, you felt movement.

At first, it felt like a shiver on a cool spring morning. Almost as though it was nothing to fret over, something you could insist would pass. But then you felt the unmistakable sting of sharp claws digging into your waist, and the panic settled in. You weren’t alone.

Foreign limbs strangled around your body, suppressing your chortled scream with a hand, pulling you deep into the shadows of the facility. Your vision was slowly blocked, until you could only see a fine line ahead of you.

Your hands clawed at the thin air before you, begging to latch to any foreign surface that could save you from the darkness, and pull you back into the light.

Thunder roared and lightning cracked, igniting the room in a blinding white glow for a split moment, your screams suppressed as your eyes landed on the reflection in the glass.

Your arms fell limply to your sides, the veins in your sclera’s a stressed, bulging red.

A body.

Your eyes fluttered open in a hurry. Your lips were gaping in a silent scream, beads of sweat trickling down the side of your temple. Blood pulsed loudly in your head, almost hurting as you brushed the sweat away.

An involuntary, guttural groan escaped your chest as you crawled backwards in your bed, your hand frantically searching behind you for your bedside light as your gaze never strayed from the space before you.

Whatever that thing was, it was following you. It could be anywhere. It could be hiding in plain sight, and you wouldn’t know it until the lights were on-

The familiar click and the spread of a warm amber glow illuminating your room eased your senses, your fingers lingering on the switch. It took a moment to register what just happened.

You were safe. There was no creature. There was no body.

You took in a deep, shaky breath and hid your face away into the safety of your palms.

It was that dream, again.

Ever since you left med school on Coruscant, your mind has been plagued by these nightmares. Each time they increased in their intensity, in their detail, in their vividness.

Your heart rattled against your ribcage, and your mind raced at thousand miles per hour.

What the fuck…?

This couldn’t be normal, you thought as you slowly settled, your body drenched in cold sweat. Those weren’t just silly images conjured up by your mind.

There was something else at play.

You shook your head as you leaned back against the headboard, looking down at your palms. Shadows hung over them, deepening the scars and creases.

Those nightmares… They meant something.

You weren’t quite sure what they meant, yet, but you were determined.

You’d find out, someday.

But for now, you needed to catch some Z’s, after all, tomorrow was your first assignment.

Blaster fire and pained howls of men coddled your brain like a swarm of wasps.

You couldn’t catch a break. It was constant analysing, bandaging and praying as one soldier after the other were hit with plasma bullets, their agonised screams and cracking of bones and barely contained groans playing in a loop like a broken record.

Heat from explosions blew charred smoke in your face, drenching your skin in more sweat with each passing second. Your hands were painted with ash and dried dirt. No amount of disinfectant was adequate enough to sanitise at a faster rate than the one of injured men coming to you.

You were more of a surgeon than a field medic, but a shortage of medical staff in an already politically unstable Republic was not something you could fight against. You had no choice.

Sure, the GAR could afford to train their own medical personnel, or even better, invest in droids, but the hostility between its soldiers and the mech wasn’t something that could be easily treated.

Either way, you were a surgeon stuck amidst a raging invasion and piling injuries and corpses.

“What’s your name soldier?” You asked as you scanned him over, brows furrowed, lips narrowed into a tight line. At this rate you were simply following a script, offering a false sense of comfort to the injured.

“R- Rex. The name’s Rex.” He coughed out, groaning as you gripped his shoulder. Or well, his pauldron. The metal beneath had been grazed with a bullet, cracking under the initial impact.

“Rex?” You mused, testing it out before removing his armour to quickly assess his shoulder for any injuries. Your fingers quickly found your scissors and got to work in cutting some of the black undershirt he wore. “That’s a pretty name, for a pretty soldier.” You joked, sending him a quick wink and your prettiest smile.

You gave him no chance to reply as you moved the piece of fabric, your eyes quickly analysing the extent of the damage.

The armour did absorb most of the impact, though it didn’t prevent him from coming out completely unscathed. There was visible swelling, his otherwise tan skin becoming discoloured where most of the impact had been taken, and tiny, raging, red vessels were swimming aggressively in the bruises. You had seen similar injuries before. This would be a piece of cake.

Something felt off, though.

Something about his demeanour. You weren’t sure what specifically, just yet, but he was brimming with confidence, with experience.

“This’ll need to be checked over later, but a bacta patch will do just fine.” You slapped a patch over the bruising, before placing his armour back into place. “See me after the battle, soldier.”

A smirk tugged at his lips as he thanked you, checking his armour was in place.

“That’s Captain for you, doctor.” He threw over his shoulder as he placed his helmet on, his voice quickly turning robotic under the modulator.

Recognition flashed in your eyes as you scanned him over, spotting the navy blue kama, the markings on his helmet, the pauldron that sat proudly atop his shoulder. He was the Captain Rex. Right hand of your new General, Anakin Skywalker. How could you not have realised the moment he spoke his name?

“Kriff.” You hissed out as another explosion erupted, shielding your face. The captain glanced back at you, and without missing a step he hauled you up.

“Come with me. It’s not safe out here.”

The two of you ran, narrowly dodging bullets as Rex manhandled your body out of the way, expertly aiming for the droids’ weak spots. He had done this a thousand times and would do it a thousand times more.

The doorway was just a couple more metres, the clear glass reflecting the colour of plasma bolts and fires. But as always, your luck seemed to run out at unexpected moments, as a droideka pulled up in front of the two of you. Rex pushed you behind him, shielding you away from the mech. It wasted no time in raising its’ shield, had its guns drawn before you could even blink. But Rex wasn’t the Captain of the 501st for no reason.

The droid was blown up almost in slow-motion. From the rolling of the grenade to its downward look as it pierced through the shield. A yelp left your lips as Rex turned, bringing you into a protective embrace as the two of you were flung backwards.

Air escaped your lungs as if you were a deflated balloon, your body feeling hollow as you struggled to breathe. Unexpectedly, the air returned, and you found yourself gasping.

Intense pain bloomed in the back of your head, spreading through your body like a shockwave. Your eyes felt as though they were about to pop out, a heavy ache resting in your skull.

Something was ringing in your ears. All sounds were muffled as you slowly lifted your head. The Captain’s figure was blurry as he leaned over you, his helmet moving slowly, animatedly, his voice drowned.

Were you underwater?

His gloved hand lifted to your cheek, giving it two light taps.

And then, everything rushed in all at once. The sound of blaster fire, the screams, the metallic stomping of droids, the Captain’s voice.

“Talk to me, doc. We gotta get going if we don’t wanna get blasted.” He said quickly, taking your wincing as a response as he hoisted you up, draping your arm over his shoulder. His touch was warm and firm, it enveloped you like a warm blanket.

Confusion overtook you as Rex placed you down against a wall before he took his helmet off.

Your vision was blurred, spinning. But his voice acted as your guide through the blurriness.

“Doc, how many fingers am I holding up?” He asked, raising his hand up.

Squinting, you looked him over. The explosions outside seemed to quieten down as you looked from his hand up to his eyes. In your hazed state, you were stunned to silence. You never knew clones had such beautiful eyes.

They brought a sense of calm amongst the raging battle around you. You leaned closer, so close you could feel his breath fanning over the tip of your nose. Something sparkled in his eyes; and it drew you in like a bee to honey.

His irises were a perfect mirage of the golden dunes of Tattooine, coated in the amber glow of the setting suns.

His voice, coarse like sands of arid deserts, soothed your mind back to the present, back to his question.

“T- Two?” You asked hazily, rubbing your forehead. The confusion was slowly easing, only to be replaced by a stinging sensation. A hiss escaped through your teeth as you touched the spot, retreating your hand to observe your bloodied fingers.

“S- Stitches…”

“What was that?” Rex asked, rummaging through your backpack.

“S- Stitches… I’ll need stitches.” You huffed out, letting him handle you however he pleased. He was gentle as he pressed a cloth against the back of your head, his breath fanning over the tip of your nose.

“Stitches… That’s catchy. And yeah, you’re right.” He said as he retracted the cloth, the softness that accompanied it gone too. You heard a soft thud before Rex’s hands were on you again. He carefully wrapped a gauze around your head, his fingers careful not to cause more discomfort.

From the corner of your eye, you noticed the bloodied cloth laying limply on the floor. It was stained a crimson red, laying abandoned by your side. Surely the bleeding wasn’t that bad.

He ripped the ends of the gauze, tying them into a knot. It sat tight against your head, and you fought the itchiness in your fingers to rip it off. You weren’t usually one to be injured. Though you had to admit, the added gentle pressure kept you grounded.

“We need to go and get backup. C’mon, this way, Stitches.”

You concluded that the hallways were endless. Rex had been hauling your body for the duration of the journey, narrowly avoiding colliding into another clone. A Commander. After that, time became a blur yet again.

It didn’t help that you were feeling tired, sleepy, nauseous.

The three of you headed down the hallways, searching for any other lingering troopers. The sound of distant conversation caught your attention, your head turning in the direction it came from.

“You hear that, Rex?” Commander Cody asked, his helmet turning to face Rex’s.

“I hear that, Cody. We’ve got backup.” He proudly said, exchanging quick glances with him.

As the three of you rounded the corner, you were able to pick up on their conversation. They were discussing their next course of action, it seemed.

“What are we going to do?”

“We fight.” Rex replied as you came into view, his hands reaching to take his helmet off, your vision swayed though a steady hand quickly supported you. As the rest began talking, Rex propped your body against a wall, and you couldn’t help but glance over the other 501st members.

One of them, Fives, you heard his name earlier, had a goatee and a tattoo. He seemed fiery and so damn sure of himself – not in an arrogant way, no – as he spoke encouraging words to the young cadets. The other one, Echo, seemed shyer and more reserved, and was constantly glancing up at Fives. He looked like any other normal Reg. Freshly shaven, distinct regular haircut, no identifying facial marks like scars or tattoos.

Something twisted at your gut with a molten fist. He was so familiar, and yet you couldn’t understand why. The answer was settled just on the tip of your tongue, scratching at your brain like an unreachable itch.

The pain in your head had shrunk into a dull ache and blurry vision whenever you attempted to walk on your own, so resting and letting the actual soldiers do the rest was not up for discussion on your part.

With a boosted morale, the clone, 99, began talking about an armoury. Rex used that moment to kneel beside you. His gloved hand felt warm on your shoulder, his grip tight and comforting.

“I’ll be back for you in a sec, Stitches. Don’t close your eyes, understood?”

“Yessir.” You muttered in response, attempting a mock salute. He rolled his eyes at you before departing, his steps hurried and glances anxious as he disappeared behind a corner.

The walls were painted a filtered red, doing little to quench your own anxieties. Were you going to get out of here? Would Rex and the others come through? You had very little experience with a gun, nethertheless facing a whole group of bloodthirsty, unfeeling droids. You reached for the strap of your bag, fiddling with the bumpy material. A soft hand on your shoulder shook you from your thoughts.

“You’re a new face around here, what’s your name?” The clone asked, Echo, as he eyed the gauze wrapped tightly around your head. You eyed him up and down, the itch returning as you thought over your response.

After a moment, you let up, rubbing the strap between your fingers.

“I’m the new medic for the 501st.” Your reply was short and curt as you pulled the bag atop your lap, unzipping it.

“New medic? That’s perfect. But, what’s wrong with your head?” He asked as he watched you pull out a bacta patch. It probably wasn’t a good idea to put the substance onto your hair, but you had no other choice. Not if you wanted to avoid having to be stitched up.

Recognition flashed in Echo’s eyes as he watched you unwrap the gauze. His gaze followed it as you let it drop to the ground. It was bloodied, dirty with sweat and gunpowder and hair sticking to it in a weird mixture of odd substances.

“A concussion?” He asked, offering his palm to you. “Let me help.” He said, and you reluctantly dropped the unopened patch into his hand. You were hoping he’d know what he was doing as he gently moved your head away from the wall.

His fingers were delicate, practiced, as he moved some hair away. He remained quiet as he opened the patch and applied it to your injury, but a soft huff bubbled in his chest at your relieved sigh. The cool liquid was amazing, to put it simply. It latched to your scalp, tiny cyan tendrils reaching out for your skin. A quiet curse left your lips, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you let yourself lean against the cool metal of his armour.

“Thank you.” You muttered against him, relief blooming in your chest. Your heart swelled as he caressed your hair tenderly.

Rex’s voice cut through the barracks as he, Cody and 99 returned, essentially interrupting your strange, little moment with Echo.

You lifted your head, resting your chin on Echo’s shoulder as you looked the three of them over.

They had stacks of guns in their arms, the cadets cheered as they crowded the three of them. You quirked a brow at Rex, noticing his quizzical expression as he looked you and Echo over. What you failed to notice was the stunned look and deep blush adorning Echo’s face.

“Ready up, boys,” Rex spoke, handing the last gun to Fives, “This might be a tough one.” His sight fell upon you again, his stare stern and yet tender as he remained focused on you, and you only.

“Doctor?”

Your body stuttered at the sound of a voice, your shaky hands almost dropping your datapad. “Captain?” Your voice was laced with confusion as you looked up. There he was, shoulders relaxed, gaze tender as it locked onto some feature of yours. “What are you doing here?”

“I’d like a follow-up on my shoulder, Doctor.” He replied almost instantly. He’d only ever gone to Kix for medical examinations, but unfortunately – not - his usual go-to medic was suspiciously nowhere to be found.

“You can look at me, y’know.” Your voice softened as you set your datapad down. Guilt began to tug at your heart as his gaze met yours. The last time the two of you were in a room together, you had made a grisly confirmation of 99’s death. He had not only protected the others, but he even risked his life to save yours. He hadn’t even known you for more than a couple of minutes at most. He was a soldier, through and through, no matter what cruelties life and Kaminoans had thrown at him.

“Doc?”

Your attention snapped back, your body taking in an involuntary breath. Rex’s eyebrows were furrowed, a small wrinkle formed between them as he eyed you.

“C’mon, let’s see what’s underneath all that armour.” You breathed out, hoping to distract him. You didn’t need the Captain to study you under a microscope.  

Rex nodded, remaining quiet. He began to carefully remove his armour, one by one, his touch careful, practiced. He had done this a thousand times, and he would do it a thousand times more.

You distracted yourself by reaching for a medical cart. His armour would not be going on the floor, nor the bed. As you returned to his side, cart in hand, his stiff figure had you quirking a brow. His hands were hesitant to lift his shirt, itching at the hem.

Rex wasn’t a shy man by any means, he had been friendly with many fine women. So why did his heart stutter at the thought of being undressed around you?

“I’ll need to watch to assess for any impairment.” Your voice startled him. His throat grew dry, his fingers restless. He wasn’t expecting you to be so forward. This is just a normal checkup, Rex, he scolded himself internally.

With a quiet nod, his arms crossed over and tugged at the hem of his shirt. He lifted it, hissing a little as his shoulders shrunk in. It was nothing to worry about, you noted, as that was where the bruising was.

However, you supressed a choked gasp. The sight of his naked chest had your well-practiced professionalism struggling. Tan, sun-kissed skin, taught muscle and broad shoulders, numerous scars littered across the expanse of his chest, stomach and waist. A few freckles here and there.

Something bloomed in his chest, something warm, and a smirk tugged at his lips, his chest almost puffing up with pride as you stood motionless for a few seconds. His hands were resting on his lap, and you wondered for a moment whether the flex of his biceps was forced or natural in this position.

“Doctor?” His voice was raw, guttural as he leaned his head to the side. That was when you finally averted your gaze, settling on looking at his shoulder instead. The bruise was still there, discoloured skin and blood vessels swimming around in patches. It must have hurt like a bitch.

“Let me get a patch for that.” You said quickly, moving to rummage through a drawer on the side of the bed. They contained all sorts of supplies and materials, in case of emergencies. “We’ll check for your range of motion – in case the damage is deeper than just surface level.” You mused as you placed the bacta patch and gauze beside him.

You moved around him, poking at different muscle as you inspected him. So far so good, no abnormalities or bumps.

“Try and raise your arms above your head,” You requested, observing as he does so with little difficulty, “And now stretch them behind your back.” You continued, placing your palms on both of his shoulders, applying gentle pressure.

No swelling, no stiffness, no difficulty in movement.

“Now place your arms by your sides, then slowly lift and extend them until they’re above your head.” You requested, showcasing an example with your own arm. Starting from your hip, you kept it straight before slowly lifting it to the side, from your hip to your head. Rex followed your instructions, and you found yourself quickly dismissing any concerns about the damage to his shoulder.

“Your shoulder seems to be doing just fine, Captain,” You said as you stepped away, typing away on your datapad, “Try not to apply pressure onto the bacta patch, or else it might pop. Come back in two hours and I’ll take it off for you.” Your fingers were careful as you placed the bacta on, softly smoothing it over as you ensured it stuck.

You reached for the gauze, your arm brushing against his.

“Sorry.” You muttered, facing him.

Your breath hitched, realisation striking you like lightning.

His face was just inches away. His breath fanned over your nose, his warmth reaching out to you.

You could count every freckle, every scar, every imperfection across his features. Thousands of tiny stars and speckles flickered across his face, the light above you serving as his little sun, casting shadows to dance over his features.

And just like a shooting star, you disappeared from his orbit in the blink of an eye.

His gaze remained trained on you, observing every little movement and twitch. He was studying you again, like bacteria under a microscope. A blush fought its way to your face, painting your cheeks a shade darker.

You moved away from Rex wordlessly, keeping your attention fixated on wrapping the gauze over his shoulder.

As you stepped back, Rex uttered a small thank you, easing back into his shirt.

The two of you remained silent, you watching him put his armour on, and him fighting to keep the poker on his face. His heart was beating fast, hard against his ribcage and he worried you could hear it in the silent confines of the medbay.

You continued watching, quietly, even as he uttered another ‘thank you’ and headed for the exit.

Your voice stopped him in his tracks.

“Captain?”

“Doctor?” He asked, his body half facing you.

You swallowed, taking a sudden, deep breath.

“Thank you… For saving my life back there. I owe you.” You said, offering a small, rigid smile.

He shook his head at you, mirroring your smile. Much softer, though.

“I guess you do, Stitches. I’ll see you around.” He said, before stepping outside. The doors closed behind him with a woosh, and you should have felt relief. You could breathe again. But your chest ached. He saved your life, he took care of you, so why did you feel so tense in his presence? So nervous?

Stop being silly, you thought as you made your way over to your desk, the screen of your holopad lighting up. You did your best to focus on the reports at hand, and yet you couldn’t fight off the giddy smile that ghosted over your face, or the nervous, unsteady racing of your heart.

Or the recurring memory of his lips so close to yours.

Tags: @flamingbisexual08

A/N: Hi guys! I’m fairly new to fic writing and brand new to tumblr (in a sense, I’ve been ON Tumblr since like 2016 but I’ve never really posted), so I’m not really sure what I’m doing tbh. I’ve been writing for awhile but I’ve never really posted anything, so let’s just see how this goes! PS Constructive criticism is welcome! I'd love some tips :)

Han Solo x Reader

Prompt: “Do I have to spell it out for you? I’m in love with you!” + Kissing to hide from someone

The funny thing is, you were probably the best pilot in the rebellion before Han. And you absolutely resented him for it. There were few things you hated more than someone upstaging you, but there was nothing you hated more than them being smug about it. And Han Solo without smug is like Hoth without winter, impossible. So when you found yourself crammed nose to nose in a maintenance closet staring back into that smug, shit eating grin, you came to the conclusion that if you made it out of here alive the first thing you were going to do was rip the wires out of that cocky assholes prize winning ship and shove them down his throat.

The morning was typical, breakfast in the Cafeteria and some training in the Gym, then straight to the meeting that was scheduled for that afternoon. Unfortunately, you never actually made it to that meeting, because half way through your training session the emergency alarm went off. You dropped your practice weapon and turned to run towards the center of the base.

“Damnit!”

You forgot to take off the resistance band tied around your ankle and ate shit on the training room floor. A mocking laugh echoed through the room as you felt firm hands grasp your wrists and pull you up.

“You should really be more careful, we wouldn’t want you to do any damage to that pretty face of yours now would we?”

Han grinned, sarcasm dripping from his tone. You groaned in frustration, face flushing from a wounded ego.

“If you haven’t noticed we’re in a bit of an emergency, so if you could be a little more helpful and untie my leg so that we can make it to the meeting before The Galactic Empire blows up our base that would be great.”

“As you wish, Princess”

He leaned down to pull the band off of your thigh, lingering a beat too long in his particularly flirtatious manner. You shoved ahead of him, tactlessly hiding your blush. You know it meant nothing to him, but that didn't mean it didn't drive you nuts. You just didn't operate like Han. He was so casual. Sometimes it seemed like he couldn't help but charm anyone that walks by, just to prove he could. You're pretty sure he would flirt with a coffee pot if it was wearing mascara, while you, on the other hand, had barely managed to seduce half a dozen people in your lifetime. It was for this reason that Hans nature was so irritating to you. When he first moved to this base, you had assumed he was making a pass at you. It's just that no one had ever been so bold about it. At least not with you, the plain looking girl from Batuu who's hottest feature, in the literal sense, was her perpetually flushed cheeks and sweaty palms. It had barely been a week before you fell hard, giggling like a child every time he made one of his frisky remarks. Bless Leia's heart for being the only person kind enough to burst your bubble. After what must have been a few too many puppy eyed stares, she pulled you aside to tell you Hans' deal. That he was an egotistical bastard who got a kick out of making people fall in love with him just to see if he could. You crashed back down to Earth pretty swiftly after that, and had now spent the better part of a year rolling your eyes every time he entered a room. Now you're stuck being second best to the man who stole your heart and your rank.

By the time you both reached the meeting room, the alarm had stopped and Leia was the only person left there.

“Y/N, Han! There you are. Where were you two?”

“Long story, what’s up?”

“ok...”

Leia raised her eyebrow suspiciously before continuing 

“There’s a Galactic Empire ship flying in our atmosphere. We’re not sure if they got a tip off about our base or if they’re doing a routine scan of the planet, but either way we can’t risk allowing them to continue. We only have one stolen TIE Fighter at this base, which means the rest of the crew will be working from land to shield the base and prepare for battle in case we’re spotted-“

“Great, where do you need me?” You interjected.

“I was actually hoping you and Han could fly the TIE fighter...”

“Oh?” You questioned, a bit shocked.

She eyed you with a sympathetic look, the two of you still close enough for her to be well aware of how you feel about Han.

“I don't need to tell either of you that you're the best pilots we have on site, and we need this mission to succeed. We can’t risk sending anything but our best, I’m counting on you two to destroy the ship by sabotaging the main engine.”

“Just tell me where to fire and that ship’ll be out of the sky before it can get within 100 miles of our base.” Han said, rearing for battle.

“Not so fast”

Leia sighed, clearly not willing to deal with Hans' rash nature at this exact moment. 

“There’s a reason I’m squeezing Y/N into a single-pilot TIE with you, Han. You need someone who actually thinks rationally, this is too much of a risky situation for you to just go in there and fire at will like you usually would. You need to be calculated and precise, which is why you’ll both be undercover.”

“Hey! I’m calculated and precise...” Han frowned.

You gritted your teeth and turned back to Leia.

“Where’s the engine?”

“It’s on the north end of the ship, right next to the escape pod, you can’t miss it. A few hits should do the trick, especially since we’re using a stolen Empire ship with stronger blasters. By the time they realize you two are there they’ll already be toast. Here are your Uniforms, just in case anything goes south and you have to come face to face with Galactic Empire soldiers.”

You nod and take the uniform out of Leia’s hand, two Stormtrooper suits probably taken off of the soldiers from the stolen TIE fighter.

“Be careful, they’ll be on high alert if a ship just flies at top speed towards their engines. Don’t be suspicious.”

Han scoffed,

“Yeah, great advice ‘Don’t be suspicious’. And how are we supposed to do that? A random TIE fighter that’s probably already been reported as stolen flying up to the ship during what seems like a routine check? How are we going to be sure they don’t stop us immediately and blow us out of the sky?”

Leia took a deep, patient breath,

“You really have no faith in me, do you. We’ve been monitoring the ship and can see that there are TIE fighters flying in and out. Just follow the path that the rest of them are taking to avoid standing out. We know the ship hasn’t been reported as stolen because when it crashed the pilot died, so there was no one to alert them when we recovered it. We don’t have much time, I just need you to trust me. Put on the uniforms, fly in if you have to, but fly out and destroy the engine. It’s our only chance.”

A grim look passed over your face, this mission was risky, and you knew if she was going to put the two of you together it really was her only option. Things could very easily go south and if worse comes to worse her best pilots would have the closest shot at getting out of there alive. You turned to Han and realized he must’ve gotten the message, because for once in his life he didn't have anything witty to say back. He just nodded and went to change into the stolen uniform

You turned back to Leia and took a deep breath before wrapping your arms around her. She returned the hug before pulling back and putting her hands on your shoulders.

“Just, please make it back, ok?”

You smiled “I will. I might leave Han on the ship though, he’s already starting to get on my nerves.”

Leia laughed “As much as he’s a pain in our asses, he’s one of our best. Try to keep him in line for me, you know how he gets...”

You chuckled, “Yeah, I will. See you later, okay?”

“Yeah, see you later.”

You walked off to go change before meeting Han at the ship.

...

By the time you squeezed into the stolen uniform Han was already in the pilot seat of the TIE. You truly wish you had the energy to argue about it, but there wasn't enough time to be petty. He was a better pilot, plain and simple, and your pride wouldn't change that. You also wouldn't change anything by slamming on a non-existent brake pedal as he took off with an all too aggressive jolt, but that certainly didn't stop the instinct.

"Can you slow down?" You snapped, tension seeping into your shoulders. "We're supposed to be blending in, and your narcissistic flying style gives you away to literally anyone who has ever seen you pilot."

"'Narcissistic flying style'?" Han scoffs "What does that even mean?"

"I don't know, shut up." You blushed, doing your best to avoid his gaze.

"You've got to get better at that, you know"

"At what?"

"Being mean. It doesn't suit you"

"Unless you want to figure out how well my foot suits your ass, I suggest you just shut up and fly"

He lets out a warm chuckle, laughing through his response -

"See what I mean? It just sounds weird coming out of your mouth. It's like a youngling swearing for the first time. To much bite, it's not natural yet"

"Well if you're so sure it's unnatural to me maybe I should take notes from you, you seem to have no problem being an asshole."

This one came out with a real bite, he's pissed you off now.

"And what does it matter? Maybe it's not natural to me because you're the only person who makes me feel like saying rude shit. Now what does come natural to me is flying, and maybe if you weren't so focused on how things sounded coming out of my mouth you'd have noticed the TIEs flying on either side of us."

"Oh shit!" He exclaimed, caught off guard for once.

"We're going to have to land on the ship."

"what? why?"

"We don't have access to their channels of communication and we're going to have to explain what the hell we're doing flying off Crait. If we start flying towards the reactor now they'll just gun us down. We can pretend to be the soldiers that crashed on this ship, explain that we were only missing because the engine failed and we needed time to repair it. The communicator broke in the crash, and that's why we haven't called for help, got it?"

"Got it, captain" He said, with an impressed lilt in his voice.

You smiled, tallying this as a win against him. If it was impressive to him that someone could come up with a plan that wasn’t whatever made the most explosions, then so be it. He’d just better be prepared to be impressed for the next few hours.

As Han flew the TIE into the landing bay, it became increasingly clear that this was going to take more convincing on your part than you were prepared for. The two TIEs guarding either side of you followed you into the port, and a group of high ranking soldiers began to gather where your ship was landing. You shot Han a concerned glance before remembering it was useless through your helmet. He seemed to get the message anyways, giving you a short nod in response. You just hoped that meant he was taking this as seriously as you were and wasn't planning on doing anything rash. 

The both of you slowly stepped out of the TIE, unsure of what the soldiers around you were planning. You tensed as a burly looking man approached, eyeing the both of you suspiciously-

“CF-0065, TZ-1764. It’s been quite some time since we’ve heard from you. Your vessels had been reported missing and it was our assumption that you had crashed or been captured. Explain what has kept you from reporting to your posts immediately.” 

He snapped, authority evident in his voice. You decided to cut in before Han could say something stupid-

“Yes, sir. Our vessels crashed on Crait, and we have spent the time in between now and then repairing the engine of the more salvageable ship. We were able to get it functioning yesterday, and we're working on getting the communication systems functioning next. We spotted your ship flying over and hoped to explain ourselves and have aid in fully repairing the TIE.”

“Ah, yes, well I’m glad you were able to recover your vessel and return to work. We could use the extras hands on board.”

“What exactly is the mission of this vessel?” Han chimed in. “We’d like to help in whatever way best suits our skills.” He added, nonchalantly.

The man, who you had now gathered to be the chief officer, began to walk. The two of you followed, doing your best impression of the mindless soldiers surrounding you.

“Well, we were sent to a maintenance level scan of this star system, but have since detected some suspicious activity on this planet in particular.”

 Your shoulders immediately tensed, and you shot a sideways glance at Han. 

“We would like to get a more comprehensive idea of the situation before moving forward, so as of now we have not reported anything to the other fleets in the area. We’d prefer not to alert the planet of our suspicions yet, and give them the least time to prepare if we decide to strike.”

You silently thanked the stars that they haven’t allerted anyone else of their suspicions. You know Han did too, it’s going to make what you have to do here a whole lot easier without an entire fleet against you.

"Well, we’re both especially skilled in repair and maintenance,” Han jutted in, “so if you could point us towards the engine room we would be happy to make sure everything is working in order while you further investigate the planet.”

It was a risky move, and the general eyed you suspiciously.

“The both of us were able to repair a damaged TIE fighter engine with nothing but the materials we were able to trade for on Crait, if you have any issues we’d be happy to help.” You added, hoping it would convince him.

“Actually,” he conceded, “I have been concerned about the operation system in one of  our navigation ports. We’ve been having quite a few rough takeoffs recently. I was going to wait until we landed to get it looked at, but since the two of you clearly possess enough skill to repair that TIE I’d rather you just take a look at it now.” 

He led the two of you down a series of long, winding hallways, which you did your best to memorize if a quick escape became necessary. The room he brought you to was a small one, with about a hundred buttons you barely recognized. You may be an experienced pilot, but Empire technology was something else entirely. You just hoped the general wasn’t planning on staying, or you and Han would have to put on a pretty convincing performance.

“So,” Han coughed, “what seems to be the matter?”

“Well since you two are such experienced mechanics, shouldn't you be the ones telling me?” The general questioned suspiciously.

“Of course, Sir,” You turned, praying to god that you could make some sense of this mess in time to keep your cover. “It looks like-”

A loud thud echoed behind you and you whipped around to see Han standing over the unconscious general. He just shrugged, turning to replace the wrench he pried off the wall to club him with.

“Han!” You whisper-shouted, trying not to alert more people than he probably just did by being his typical, impulsive self.

“What? He replied, “He was totally on to us and It was more trouble than it's worth to try and convince him we know anything about Empire tech.”

“Right, so you decided braining him with a wrench was the next best option?”

“We don’t have time for this, Y/N. At this point we’re going to have to sabotage the reactor from the inside, which might take more effort than we anticipated.”

“And what are we supposed to do with him?” You both eyed the unconscious general, and Han shifted his gaze to a utility closet in the corner.

A few good thunks with the wrench for extra measure later, the both of you began to fold, shove, and contort the general into a crate in the navigation room closet. You had taken your helmets off, sweating uncomfortably with the effort it took to lift the fairly bulky man across the room. You wiped your forehead, staring at the now properly concealed general, and shot a concerned glance at Han, 

“How long do you think it’ll take before they notice he’s gone?” 

“I think we’ve got some time,” He said, reaching for his helmet.

It was at that moment that the doorknob began to jiggle, and in a blur of movement Han had you up against the wall with his lips on yours. It didn’t even register at first, shock and adrenaline coursing through your veins hard enough to freeze you completely.You weren’t exactly sure what the rules were in The Galactic Empire about soldiers kissing, but you had a feeling the punishment for being caught would be less severe than killing a high ranking general. Plus, this was probably the easiest way to hide both of your helmetless faces, yours may not be recognizable, but his certainly is. It took a second before you began to kiss him back, but by the time you let yourself reciprocate, you heard the door click shut and Han pulled away. You kicked yourself and your neurotic brain for running through all of the possible plans of action before you even got the chance to soak it in. You’d dreamed of this so many times, and in so many ways, and the one time it’ll probably ever happen you let it get away from you. As you looked back up at Han, he was stuck with the same searching look you couldn’t wipe off your face. You stared back at him for a second, trying to gauge his reaction.

Han butted in, cutting right through your thoughts. “Maybe we should do that again. You know, just in case they come back.” He said, dazed.

“Yeah…” You muttered, “Yeah that might be best.”

His lips crashed back into yours, and you kissed him with a renewed sense of purpose. Han kissed with a passion you had never felt before. With everyone else it had been awkward and fumbling, but the two of you seemed to fit together so naturally. You took a metal note of every part of him, from the rough feeling of his lips to the bold flick of his tongue. You tried to memorize everything you loved about this, because you knew it was never going to happen again. You’re sure you were going to torture yourself with this moment forever, so you might as well remember it as clearly as possible. The way his hands grazed your waist, not grabbing, but just hovering above your hips with a feather-like touch as if he was afraid you were going to burn him. How his adams apple bobbed when you kissed his neck, swallowing hard out of desperation. The way his hands felt in your hair, not tugging, but carding through it with a sort of reverence. He pulled away too soon, tearing you out of your blissful analysis of his body and back into the present tense. 

“We can’t keep doing that,” He said, panting.

“Yeah, I think we’re in the clear and we need to find the reactor” You replied, trying your best to hide how it stung and moving towards your helmet.

“No.” Han put both his hands on your shoulder, holding you in place, “No, we can’t keep doing that because if we do I will want to do it again.”

“What?” You paused, shocked.

“You know what I mean, Y/N, don’t make me say it out loud.”

You stared back at him blankly, truly at a loss for words.

“Jesus Y/N, Do I have to spell it out for you? I’m in love with you!”

“What?” Seemed to be the only word your brain could muster in this moment. You felt as though your whole world view was crashing around you, as though the very ground beneath you was shaking… On second thought, the ground might actually be shaking, because judging by Hans face you weren't the only one feeling the rumbling beneath you.

“We’ll deal with this later.” He shot you a look before grabbing his helmet and running out the door, following quickly after to discover what was the matter. 

It became clear as you walked that the ship was preparing for takeoff, but you weren’t sure why. Your nerves were on fire, and you know you’ve wasted too much time to get it wrong now.

“That general sure wasn’t kidding when he said their takeoffs were rough. We need to get to the reactor before they can get the ship up and running or we’re screwed.” Han said, eyeing you nervously.

“Do you think if we go back to the landing bay we can tell them we have orders to go back to Crait and investigate some of the suspicious activity we saw on-world? If we take a nicer ship than the TIE we came in we won't have to worry about the blasters not being strong enough to take down the ship.” You replied, already in go-mode.

“Sounds like a great plan,” Han said, voice dripping with sarcasm, “except how the hell are we supposed to find our way back to the landing bay with no map of the ship?”

“Just trust me.” You said, grabbing his arm and leading him down the hall. Your freakish memory is good for more than memorizing Hans lips, and you were able to bring the two of you back exactly the way you came. You strode up to the nearest pilot you could find, and with the confidence of somebody who has no other choice, demands he give the two of you access to an ST-70 Assault Ship. 

“For what purpose?” He responds, taken aback by your assertiveness.

“We are the two soldiers who we’re just recovered from Crait, and were ordered back down there to investigate suspicious activity on the planet. We don’t have time for this, just give us the vessel.” Han repeated what you had planned to the pilot, striding towards the ST-70. 

“I haven’t been told of such an order, the two of you are going to need to wait until I receive the command from higher up to authorize use of this vessel.” The pilot replies sharply.

“We’ve already been held up by engine maintenance,” You added, not exactly sure where this was going but hoping you found something convincing to say in the midst of your rambling, “and spent much of that time relaying to a general on this ship the reason for our brief disappearance. We are part of a high clearance mission to uncover rebel activity on the planet Crait, and are close to infiltrating one of the largest branches of their military. We came here to dismiss your vessel, as we were worried your presence would alert the Rebel Alliance of our presence on the planet.”

Han joined in, stepping up to the unarmed pilot with his intimidating stature. 

“If you don’t hand over this vessel, the failure of a months-long plan to eliminate one of the largest branches of the Rebel Alliance will be on your head. Whatever you think we might do with this ship that is ‘unauthorized’ cannot possibly have consequences as dire for you as that will.” Han rolled his shoulders back, taking one more menacing step forward.

The pilot stepped aside, granting you and Han access to the ST-70. If the two of you make it out of here, you would have to be permanently assigned as partners for missions like these. You have never felt more invigorated or on your game than when you were with Han, the idea of the word ‘partners in crime’ finally settling in your skin. You weren’t out of the woods yet though, and as Han began to start the ships engines, a very rumpled looking general marched into the landing bay.

“Shit!” You exclaimed. “Go, Han, Go, go, go go GO!”

“I hear you Y/N!” Han shouted back, kicking the ship into overdrive and jolting you violently into space.

 You got a few feet out from the ship before three TIE fighters started tailing you, and Han took a sharp left before nose-diving under the belly of the ship. You whipped around to the laser cannons, doing you best to aim as Han whipped the ship around to try and find the main engine. Just as you took one TIE out, two more appeared.

“Do you have eyes on the engine Han?” You shouted, limbs tingling as you shot down two more TIE fighters.

“Got it!” He yelled back, and you swiveled to face the ship's surface as he flew at top speed towards the engine.

You began to count down, preparing Han to nose dive the second you blasted this thing out of the sky.

“Three… two.. One!” You fired directly at the engine, and your stomach did somersaults as Han dodged the blast.  

“Yes!” He screamed, and you laughed with manic joy as you felt relief wash over you. 

The TIE fighters following you weren’t prepared to dodge the blast, and the two of you watched joyfully as they went down with the ship. You barreled towards Crait, with more than just a successful mission to show for it. The two of you had just destroyed a high ranking Empire ship, and come back with an ST-70 Razor Crest M-11 ship as your bounty. Han landed the ship and ripped off his helmet, smiling from ear to ear. The excitement was electric, making its way through every limb and out your fingers to charge the atmosphere around you. You turned to Han and before you knew it you were crashing your lips into his, desperate for an outlet. He kissed you back with double the vigor of the last time, and seemed to be determined to explore every inch of you. Your mouth, your waist, your hair, your thighs, he groped and fumbled at all of you as you pushed back with just as much energy. Kissing Han felt like, for lack of better word, winning. Winning your first race as a newly vetted pilot, winning a mission against the empire, winning the man you thought wanted nothing to do with you and you thought you wanted nothing to do with. You laughed into the kiss as he bit your lip, giddy with an amount of energy you didn’t know how to control. 

“What?” He said, sporting that smug grin you always wanted to slap off of his face.

“Nothing,” you replied, deciding firmly that kissing it off was the better option. “I’ve just been so in love with you forever and can’t believe this is happening.”

FIN.

A/N: Hi guys! I’m fairly new to fic writing and brand new to tumblr (in a sense, I’ve been ON Tumblr since like 2016 but I’ve never really posted), so I’m not really sure what I’m doing tbh. I’ve been writing for awhile but I’ve never really posted anything, so let’s just see how this goes! PS Constructive criticism is welcome! I'd love some tips :)

Han Solo x Reader

Prompt: “Do I have to spell it out for you? I’m in love with you!” + Kissing to hide from someone

The funny thing is, you were probably the best pilot in the rebellion before Han. And you absolutely resented him for it. There were few things you hated more than someone upstaging you, but there was nothing you hated more than them being smug about it. And Han Solo without smug is like Hoth without winter, impossible. So when you found yourself crammed nose to nose in a maintenance closet staring back into that smug, shit eating grin, you came to the conclusion that if you made it out of here alive the first thing you were going to do was rip the wires out of that cocky assholes prize winning ship and shove them down his throat.

The morning was typical, breakfast in the Cafeteria and some training in the Gym, then straight to the meeting that was scheduled for that afternoon. Unfortunately, you never actually made it to that meeting, because half way through your training session the emergency alarm went off. You dropped your practice weapon and turned to run towards the center of the base.

“Damnit!”

You forgot to take off the resistance band tied around your ankle and ate shit on the training room floor. A mocking laugh echoed through the room as you felt firm hands grasp your wrists and pull you up.

“You should really be more careful, we wouldn’t want you to do any damage to that pretty face of yours now would we?”

Han grinned, sarcasm dripping from his tone. You groaned in frustration, face flushing from a wounded ego.

“If you haven’t noticed we’re in a bit of an emergency, so if you could be a little more helpful and untie my leg so that we can make it to the meeting before The Galactic Empire blows up our base that would be great.”

“As you wish, Princess”

He leaned down to pull the band off of your thigh, lingering a beat too long in his particularly flirtatious manner. You shoved ahead of him, tactlessly hiding your blush. You know it meant nothing to him, but that didn't mean it didn't drive you nuts. You just didn't operate like Han. He was so casual. Sometimes it seemed like he couldn't help but charm anyone that walks by, just to prove he could. You're pretty sure he would flirt with a coffee pot if it was wearing mascara, while you, on the other hand, had barely managed to seduce half a dozen people in your lifetime. It was for this reason that Hans nature was so irritating to you. When he first moved to this base, you had assumed he was making a pass at you. It's just that no one had ever been so bold about it. At least not with you, the plain looking girl from Batuu who's hottest feature, in the literal sense, was her perpetually flushed cheeks and sweaty palms. It had barely been a week before you fell hard, giggling like a child every time he made one of his frisky remarks. Bless Leia's heart for being the only person kind enough to burst your bubble. After what must have been a few too many puppy eyed stares, she pulled you aside to tell you Hans' deal. That he was an egotistical bastard who got a kick out of making people fall in love with him just to see if he could. You crashed back down to Earth pretty swiftly after that, and had now spent the better part of a year rolling your eyes every time he entered a room. Now you're stuck being second best to the man who stole your heart and your rank.

By the time you both reached the meeting room, the alarm had stopped and Leia was the only person left there.

“Y/N, Han! There you are. Where were you two?”

“Long story, what’s up?”

“ok...”

Leia raised her eyebrow suspiciously before continuing 

“There’s a Galactic Empire ship flying in our atmosphere. We’re not sure if they got a tip off about our base or if they’re doing a routine scan of the planet, but either way we can’t risk allowing them to continue. We only have one stolen TIE Fighter at this base, which means the rest of the crew will be working from land to shield the base and prepare for battle in case we’re spotted-“

“Great, where do you need me?” You interjected.

“I was actually hoping you and Han could fly the TIE fighter...”

“Oh?” You questioned, a bit shocked.

She eyed you with a sympathetic look, the two of you still close enough for her to be well aware of how you feel about Han.

“I don't need to tell either of you that you're the best pilots we have on site, and we need this mission to succeed. We can’t risk sending anything but our best, I’m counting on you two to destroy the ship by sabotaging the main engine.”

“Just tell me where to fire and that ship’ll be out of the sky before it can get within 100 miles of our base.” Han said, rearing for battle.

“Not so fast”

Leia sighed, clearly not willing to deal with Hans' rash nature at this exact moment. 

“There’s a reason I’m squeezing Y/N into a single-pilot TIE with you, Han. You need someone who actually thinks rationally, this is too much of a risky situation for you to just go in there and fire at will like you usually would. You need to be calculated and precise, which is why you’ll both be undercover.”

“Hey! I’m calculated and precise...” Han frowned.

You gritted your teeth and turned back to Leia.

“Where’s the engine?”

“It’s on the north end of the ship, right next to the escape pod, you can’t miss it. A few hits should do the trick, especially since we’re using a stolen Empire ship with stronger blasters. By the time they realize you two are there they’ll already be toast. Here are your Uniforms, just in case anything goes south and you have to come face to face with Galactic Empire soldiers.”

You nod and take the uniform out of Leia’s hand, two Stormtrooper suits probably taken off of the soldiers from the stolen TIE fighter.

“Be careful, they’ll be on high alert if a ship just flies at top speed towards their engines. Don’t be suspicious.”

Han scoffed,

“Yeah, great advice ‘Don’t be suspicious’. And how are we supposed to do that? A random TIE fighter that’s probably already been reported as stolen flying up to the ship during what seems like a routine check? How are we going to be sure they don’t stop us immediately and blow us out of the sky?”

Leia took a deep, patient breath,

“You really have no faith in me, do you. We’ve been monitoring the ship and can see that there are TIE fighters flying in and out. Just follow the path that the rest of them are taking to avoid standing out. We know the ship hasn’t been reported as stolen because when it crashed the pilot died, so there was no one to alert them when we recovered it. We don’t have much time, I just need you to trust me. Put on the uniforms, fly in if you have to, but fly out and destroy the engine. It’s our only chance.”

A grim look passed over your face, this mission was risky, and you knew if she was going to put the two of you together it really was her only option. Things could very easily go south and if worse comes to worse her best pilots would have the closest shot at getting out of there alive. You turned to Han and realized he must’ve gotten the message, because for once in his life he didn't have anything witty to say back. He just nodded and went to change into the stolen uniform

You turned back to Leia and took a deep breath before wrapping your arms around her. She returned the hug before pulling back and putting her hands on your shoulders.

“Just, please make it back, ok?”

You smiled “I will. I might leave Han on the ship though, he’s already starting to get on my nerves.”

Leia laughed “As much as he’s a pain in our asses, he’s one of our best. Try to keep him in line for me, you know how he gets...”

You chuckled, “Yeah, I will. See you later, okay?”

“Yeah, see you later.”

You walked off to go change before meeting Han at the ship.

...

By the time you squeezed into the stolen uniform Han was already in the pilot seat of the TIE. You truly wish you had the energy to argue about it, but there wasn't enough time to be petty. He was a better pilot, plain and simple, and your pride wouldn't change that. You also wouldn't change anything by slamming on a non-existent brake pedal as he took off with an all too aggressive jolt, but that certainly didn't stop the instinct.

"Can you slow down?" You snapped, tension seeping into your shoulders. "We're supposed to be blending in, and your narcissistic flying style gives you away to literally anyone who has ever seen you pilot."

"'Narcissistic flying style'?" Han scoffs "What does that even mean?"

"I don't know, shut up." You blushed, doing your best to avoid his gaze.

"You've got to get better at that, you know"

"At what?"

"Being mean. It doesn't suit you"

"Unless you want to figure out how well my foot suits your ass, I suggest you just shut up and fly"

He lets out a warm chuckle, laughing through his response -

"See what I mean? It just sounds weird coming out of your mouth. It's like a youngling swearing for the first time. To much bite, it's not natural yet"

"Well if you're so sure it's unnatural to me maybe I should take notes from you, you seem to have no problem being an asshole."

This one came out with a real bite, he's pissed you off now.

"And what does it matter? Maybe it's not natural to me because you're the only person who makes me feel like saying rude shit. Now what does come natural to me is flying, and maybe if you weren't so focused on how things sounded coming out of my mouth you'd have noticed the TIEs flying on either side of us."

"Oh shit!" He exclaimed, caught off guard for once.

"We're going to have to land on the ship."

"what? why?"

"We don't have access to their channels of communication and we're going to have to explain what the hell we're doing flying off Crait. If we start flying towards the reactor now they'll just gun us down. We can pretend to be the soldiers that crashed on this ship, explain that we were only missing because the engine failed and we needed time to repair it. The communicator broke in the crash, and that's why we haven't called for help, got it?"

"Got it, captain" He said, with an impressed lilt in his voice.

You smiled, tallying this as a win against him. If it was impressive to him that someone could come up with a plan that wasn’t whatever made the most explosions, then so be it. He’d just better be prepared to be impressed for the next few hours.

As Han flew the TIE into the landing bay, it became increasingly clear that this was going to take more convincing on your part than you were prepared for. The two TIEs guarding either side of you followed you into the port, and a group of high ranking soldiers began to gather where your ship was landing. You shot Han a concerned glance before remembering it was useless through your helmet. He seemed to get the message anyways, giving you a short nod in response. You just hoped that meant he was taking this as seriously as you were and wasn't planning on doing anything rash. 

The both of you slowly stepped out of the TIE, unsure of what the soldiers around you were planning. You tensed as a burly looking man approached, eyeing the both of you suspiciously-

“CF-0065, TZ-1764. It’s been quite some time since we’ve heard from you. Your vessels had been reported missing and it was our assumption that you had crashed or been captured. Explain what has kept you from reporting to your posts immediately.” 

He snapped, authority evident in his voice. You decided to cut in before Han could say something stupid-

“Yes, sir. Our vessels crashed on Crait, and we have spent the time in between now and then repairing the engine of the more salvageable ship. We were able to get it functioning yesterday, and we're working on getting the communication systems functioning next. We spotted your ship flying over and hoped to explain ourselves and have aid in fully repairing the TIE.”

“Ah, yes, well I’m glad you were able to recover your vessel and return to work. We could use the extras hands on board.”

“What exactly is the mission of this vessel?” Han chimed in. “We’d like to help in whatever way best suits our skills.” He added, nonchalantly.

The man, who you had now gathered to be the chief officer, began to walk. The two of you followed, doing your best impression of the mindless soldiers surrounding you.

“Well, we were sent to a maintenance level scan of this star system, but have since detected some suspicious activity on this planet in particular.”

 Your shoulders immediately tensed, and you shot a sideways glance at Han. 

“We would like to get a more comprehensive idea of the situation before moving forward, so as of now we have not reported anything to the other fleets in the area. We’d prefer not to alert the planet of our suspicions yet, and give them the least time to prepare if we decide to strike.”

You silently thanked the stars that they haven’t allerted anyone else of their suspicions. You know Han did too, it’s going to make what you have to do here a whole lot easier without an entire fleet against you.

"Well, we’re both especially skilled in repair and maintenance,” Han jutted in, “so if you could point us towards the engine room we would be happy to make sure everything is working in order while you further investigate the planet.”

It was a risky move, and the general eyed you suspiciously.

“The both of us were able to repair a damaged TIE fighter engine with nothing but the materials we were able to trade for on Crait, if you have any issues we’d be happy to help.” You added, hoping it would convince him.

“Actually,” he conceded, “I have been concerned about the operation system in one of  our navigation ports. We’ve been having quite a few rough takeoffs recently. I was going to wait until we landed to get it looked at, but since the two of you clearly possess enough skill to repair that TIE I’d rather you just take a look at it now.” 

He led the two of you down a series of long, winding hallways, which you did your best to memorize if a quick escape became necessary. The room he brought you to was a small one, with about a hundred buttons you barely recognized. You may be an experienced pilot, but Empire technology was something else entirely. You just hoped the general wasn’t planning on staying, or you and Han would have to put on a pretty convincing performance.

“So,” Han coughed, “what seems to be the matter?”

“Well since you two are such experienced mechanics, shouldn't you be the ones telling me?” The general questioned suspiciously.

“Of course, Sir,” You turned, praying to god that you could make some sense of this mess in time to keep your cover. “It looks like-”

A loud thud echoed behind you and you whipped around to see Han standing over the unconscious general. He just shrugged, turning to replace the wrench he pried off the wall to club him with.

“Han!” You whisper-shouted, trying not to alert more people than he probably just did by being his typical, impulsive self.

“What? He replied, “He was totally on to us and It was more trouble than it's worth to try and convince him we know anything about Empire tech.”

“Right, so you decided braining him with a wrench was the next best option?”

“We don’t have time for this, Y/N. At this point we’re going to have to sabotage the reactor from the inside, which might take more effort than we anticipated.”

“And what are we supposed to do with him?” You both eyed the unconscious general, and Han shifted his gaze to a utility closet in the corner.

A few good thunks with the wrench for extra measure later, the both of you began to fold, shove, and contort the general into a crate in the navigation room closet. You had taken your helmets off, sweating uncomfortably with the effort it took to lift the fairly bulky man across the room. You wiped your forehead, staring at the now properly concealed general, and shot a concerned glance at Han, 

“How long do you think it’ll take before they notice he’s gone?” 

“I think we’ve got some time,” He said, reaching for his helmet.

It was at that moment that the doorknob began to jiggle, and in a blur of movement Han had you up against the wall with his lips on yours. It didn’t even register at first, shock and adrenaline coursing through your veins hard enough to freeze you completely.You weren’t exactly sure what the rules were in The Galactic Empire about soldiers kissing, but you had a feeling the punishment for being caught would be less severe than killing a high ranking general. Plus, this was probably the easiest way to hide both of your helmetless faces, yours may not be recognizable, but his certainly is. It took a second before you began to kiss him back, but by the time you let yourself reciprocate, you heard the door click shut and Han pulled away. You kicked yourself and your neurotic brain for running through all of the possible plans of action before you even got the chance to soak it in. You’d dreamed of this so many times, and in so many ways, and the one time it’ll probably ever happen you let it get away from you. As you looked back up at Han, he was stuck with the same searching look you couldn’t wipe off your face. You stared back at him for a second, trying to gauge his reaction.

Han butted in, cutting right through your thoughts. “Maybe we should do that again. You know, just in case they come back.” He said, dazed.

“Yeah…” You muttered, “Yeah that might be best.”

His lips crashed back into yours, and you kissed him with a renewed sense of purpose. Han kissed with a passion you had never felt before. With everyone else it had been awkward and fumbling, but the two of you seemed to fit together so naturally. You took a metal note of every part of him, from the rough feeling of his lips to the bold flick of his tongue. You tried to memorize everything you loved about this, because you knew it was never going to happen again. You’re sure you were going to torture yourself with this moment forever, so you might as well remember it as clearly as possible. The way his hands grazed your waist, not grabbing, but just hovering above your hips with a feather-like touch as if he was afraid you were going to burn him. How his adams apple bobbed when you kissed his neck, swallowing hard out of desperation. The way his hands felt in your hair, not tugging, but carding through it with a sort of reverence. He pulled away too soon, tearing you out of your blissful analysis of his body and back into the present tense. 

“We can’t keep doing that,” He said, panting.

“Yeah, I think we’re in the clear and we need to find the reactor” You replied, trying your best to hide how it stung and moving towards your helmet.

“No.” Han put both his hands on your shoulder, holding you in place, “No, we can’t keep doing that because if we do I will want to do it again.”

“What?” You paused, shocked.

“You know what I mean, Y/N, don’t make me say it out loud.”

You stared back at him blankly, truly at a loss for words.

“Jesus Y/N, Do I have to spell it out for you? I’m in love with you!”

“What?” Seemed to be the only word your brain could muster in this moment. You felt as though your whole world view was crashing around you, as though the very ground beneath you was shaking… On second thought, the ground might actually be shaking, because judging by Hans face you weren't the only one feeling the rumbling beneath you.

“We’ll deal with this later.” He shot you a look before grabbing his helmet and running out the door, following quickly after to discover what was the matter. 

It became clear as you walked that the ship was preparing for takeoff, but you weren’t sure why. Your nerves were on fire, and you know you’ve wasted too much time to get it wrong now.

“That general sure wasn’t kidding when he said their takeoffs were rough. We need to get to the reactor before they can get the ship up and running or we’re screwed.” Han said, eyeing you nervously.

“Do you think if we go back to the landing bay we can tell them we have orders to go back to Crait and investigate some of the suspicious activity we saw on-world? If we take a nicer ship than the TIE we came in we won't have to worry about the blasters not being strong enough to take down the ship.” You replied, already in go-mode.

“Sounds like a great plan,” Han said, voice dripping with sarcasm, “except how the hell are we supposed to find our way back to the landing bay with no map of the ship?”

“Just trust me.” You said, grabbing his arm and leading him down the hall. Your freakish memory is good for more than memorizing Hans lips, and you were able to bring the two of you back exactly the way you came. You strode up to the nearest pilot you could find, and with the confidence of somebody who has no other choice, demands he give the two of you access to an ST-70 Assault Ship. 

“For what purpose?” He responds, taken aback by your assertiveness.

“We are the two soldiers who we’re just recovered from Crait, and were ordered back down there to investigate suspicious activity on the planet. We don’t have time for this, just give us the vessel.” Han repeated what you had planned to the pilot, striding towards the ST-70. 

“I haven’t been told of such an order, the two of you are going to need to wait until I receive the command from higher up to authorize use of this vessel.” The pilot replies sharply.

“We’ve already been held up by engine maintenance,” You added, not exactly sure where this was going but hoping you found something convincing to say in the midst of your rambling, “and spent much of that time relaying to a general on this ship the reason for our brief disappearance. We are part of a high clearance mission to uncover rebel activity on the planet Crait, and are close to infiltrating one of the largest branches of their military. We came here to dismiss your vessel, as we were worried your presence would alert the Rebel Alliance of our presence on the planet.”

Han joined in, stepping up to the unarmed pilot with his intimidating stature. 

“If you don’t hand over this vessel, the failure of a months-long plan to eliminate one of the largest branches of the Rebel Alliance will be on your head. Whatever you think we might do with this ship that is ‘unauthorized’ cannot possibly have consequences as dire for you as that will.” Han rolled his shoulders back, taking one more menacing step forward.

The pilot stepped aside, granting you and Han access to the ST-70. If the two of you make it out of here, you would have to be permanently assigned as partners for missions like these. You have never felt more invigorated or on your game than when you were with Han, the idea of the word ‘partners in crime’ finally settling in your skin. You weren’t out of the woods yet though, and as Han began to start the ships engines, a very rumpled looking general marched into the landing bay.

“Shit!” You exclaimed. “Go, Han, Go, go, go go GO!”

“I hear you Y/N!” Han shouted back, kicking the ship into overdrive and jolting you violently into space.

 You got a few feet out from the ship before three TIE fighters started tailing you, and Han took a sharp left before nose-diving under the belly of the ship. You whipped around to the laser cannons, doing you best to aim as Han whipped the ship around to try and find the main engine. Just as you took one TIE out, two more appeared.

“Do you have eyes on the engine Han?” You shouted, limbs tingling as you shot down two more TIE fighters.

“Got it!” He yelled back, and you swiveled to face the ship's surface as he flew at top speed towards the engine.

You began to count down, preparing Han to nose dive the second you blasted this thing out of the sky.

“Three… two.. One!” You fired directly at the engine, and your stomach did somersaults as Han dodged the blast.  

“Yes!” He screamed, and you laughed with manic joy as you felt relief wash over you. 

The TIE fighters following you weren’t prepared to dodge the blast, and the two of you watched joyfully as they went down with the ship. You barreled towards Crait, with more than just a successful mission to show for it. The two of you had just destroyed a high ranking Empire ship, and come back with an ST-70 Razor Crest M-11 ship as your bounty. Han landed the ship and ripped off his helmet, smiling from ear to ear. The excitement was electric, making its way through every limb and out your fingers to charge the atmosphere around you. You turned to Han and before you knew it you were crashing your lips into his, desperate for an outlet. He kissed you back with double the vigor of the last time, and seemed to be determined to explore every inch of you. Your mouth, your waist, your hair, your thighs, he groped and fumbled at all of you as you pushed back with just as much energy. Kissing Han felt like, for lack of better word, winning. Winning your first race as a newly vetted pilot, winning a mission against the empire, winning the man you thought wanted nothing to do with you and you thought you wanted nothing to do with. You laughed into the kiss as he bit your lip, giddy with an amount of energy you didn’t know how to control. 

“What?” He said, sporting that smug grin you always wanted to slap off of his face.

“Nothing,” you replied, deciding firmly that kissing it off was the better option. “I’ve just been so in love with you forever and can’t believe this is happening.”

FIN.

A/N: Hi guys! I’m fairly new to fic writing and brand new to tumblr (in a sense, I’ve been ON Tumblr since like 2016 but I’ve never really posted), so I’m not really sure what I’m doing tbh. I’ve been writing for awhile but I’ve never really posted anything, so let’s just see how this goes! PS Constructive criticism is welcome! I'd love some tips :)

Han Solo x Reader

Prompt: “Do I have to spell it out for you? I’m in love with you!” + Kissing to hide from someone

The funny thing is, you were probably the best pilot in the rebellion before Han. And you absolutely resented him for it. There were few things you hated more than someone upstaging you, but there was nothing you hated more than them being smug about it. And Han Solo without smug is like Hoth without winter, impossible. So when you found yourself crammed nose to nose in a maintenance closet staring back into that smug, shit eating grin, you came to the conclusion that if you made it out of here alive the first thing you were going to do was rip the wires out of that cocky assholes prize winning ship and shove them down his throat.

The morning was typical, breakfast in the Cafeteria and some training in the Gym, then straight to the meeting that was scheduled for that afternoon. Unfortunately, you never actually made it to that meeting, because half way through your training session the emergency alarm went off. You dropped your practice weapon and turned to run towards the center of the base.

“Damnit!”

You forgot to take off the resistance band tied around your ankle and ate shit on the training room floor. A mocking laugh echoed through the room as you felt firm hands grasp your wrists and pull you up.

“You should really be more careful, we wouldn’t want you to do any damage to that pretty face of yours now would we?”

Han grinned, sarcasm dripping from his tone. You groaned in frustration, face flushing from a wounded ego.

“If you haven’t noticed we’re in a bit of an emergency, so if you could be a little more helpful and untie my leg so that we can make it to the meeting before The Galactic Empire blows up our base that would be great.”

“As you wish, Princess”

He leaned down to pull the band off of your thigh, lingering a beat too long in his particularly flirtatious manner. You shoved ahead of him, tactlessly hiding your blush. You know it meant nothing to him, but that didn't mean it didn't drive you nuts. You just didn't operate like Han. He was so casual. Sometimes it seemed like he couldn't help but charm anyone that walks by, just to prove he could. You're pretty sure he would flirt with a coffee pot if it was wearing mascara, while you, on the other hand, had barely managed to seduce half a dozen people in your lifetime. It was for this reason that Hans nature was so irritating to you. When he first moved to this base, you had assumed he was making a pass at you. It's just that no one had ever been so bold about it. At least not with you, the plain looking girl from Batuu who's hottest feature, in the literal sense, was her perpetually flushed cheeks and sweaty palms. It had barely been a week before you fell hard, giggling like a child every time he made one of his frisky remarks. Bless Leia's heart for being the only person kind enough to burst your bubble. After what must have been a few too many puppy eyed stares, she pulled you aside to tell you Hans' deal. That he was an egotistical bastard who got a kick out of making people fall in love with him just to see if he could. You crashed back down to Earth pretty swiftly after that, and had now spent the better part of a year rolling your eyes every time he entered a room. Now you're stuck being second best to the man who stole your heart and your rank.

By the time you both reached the meeting room, the alarm had stopped and Leia was the only person left there.

“Y/N, Han! There you are. Where were you two?”

“Long story, what’s up?”

“ok...”

Leia raised her eyebrow suspiciously before continuing 

“There’s a Galactic Empire ship flying in our atmosphere. We’re not sure if they got a tip off about our base or if they’re doing a routine scan of the planet, but either way we can’t risk allowing them to continue. We only have one stolen TIE Fighter at this base, which means the rest of the crew will be working from land to shield the base and prepare for battle in case we’re spotted-“

“Great, where do you need me?” You interjected.

“I was actually hoping you and Han could fly the TIE fighter...”

“Oh?” You questioned, a bit shocked.

She eyed you with a sympathetic look, the two of you still close enough for her to be well aware of how you feel about Han.

“I don't need to tell either of you that you're the best pilots we have on site, and we need this mission to succeed. We can’t risk sending anything but our best, I’m counting on you two to destroy the ship by sabotaging the main engine.”

“Just tell me where to fire and that ship’ll be out of the sky before it can get within 100 miles of our base.” Han said, rearing for battle.

“Not so fast”

Leia sighed, clearly not willing to deal with Hans' rash nature at this exact moment. 

“There’s a reason I’m squeezing Y/N into a single-pilot TIE with you, Han. You need someone who actually thinks rationally, this is too much of a risky situation for you to just go in there and fire at will like you usually would. You need to be calculated and precise, which is why you’ll both be undercover.”

“Hey! I’m calculated and precise...” Han frowned.

You gritted your teeth and turned back to Leia.

“Where’s the engine?”

“It’s on the north end of the ship, right next to the escape pod, you can’t miss it. A few hits should do the trick, especially since we’re using a stolen Empire ship with stronger blasters. By the time they realize you two are there they’ll already be toast. Here are your Uniforms, just in case anything goes south and you have to come face to face with Galactic Empire soldiers.”

You nod and take the uniform out of Leia’s hand, two Stormtrooper suits probably taken off of the soldiers from the stolen TIE fighter.

“Be careful, they’ll be on high alert if a ship just flies at top speed towards their engines. Don’t be suspicious.”

Han scoffed,

“Yeah, great advice ‘Don’t be suspicious’. And how are we supposed to do that? A random TIE fighter that’s probably already been reported as stolen flying up to the ship during what seems like a routine check? How are we going to be sure they don’t stop us immediately and blow us out of the sky?”

Leia took a deep, patient breath,

“You really have no faith in me, do you. We’ve been monitoring the ship and can see that there are TIE fighters flying in and out. Just follow the path that the rest of them are taking to avoid standing out. We know the ship hasn’t been reported as stolen because when it crashed the pilot died, so there was no one to alert them when we recovered it. We don’t have much time, I just need you to trust me. Put on the uniforms, fly in if you have to, but fly out and destroy the engine. It’s our only chance.”

A grim look passed over your face, this mission was risky, and you knew if she was going to put the two of you together it really was her only option. Things could very easily go south and if worse comes to worse her best pilots would have the closest shot at getting out of there alive. You turned to Han and realized he must’ve gotten the message, because for once in his life he didn't have anything witty to say back. He just nodded and went to change into the stolen uniform

You turned back to Leia and took a deep breath before wrapping your arms around her. She returned the hug before pulling back and putting her hands on your shoulders.

“Just, please make it back, ok?”

You smiled “I will. I might leave Han on the ship though, he’s already starting to get on my nerves.”

Leia laughed “As much as he’s a pain in our asses, he’s one of our best. Try to keep him in line for me, you know how he gets...”

You chuckled, “Yeah, I will. See you later, okay?”

“Yeah, see you later.”

You walked off to go change before meeting Han at the ship.

...

By the time you squeezed into the stolen uniform Han was already in the pilot seat of the TIE. You truly wish you had the energy to argue about it, but there wasn't enough time to be petty. He was a better pilot, plain and simple, and your pride wouldn't change that. You also wouldn't change anything by slamming on a non-existent brake pedal as he took off with an all too aggressive jolt, but that certainly didn't stop the instinct.

"Can you slow down?" You snapped, tension seeping into your shoulders. "We're supposed to be blending in, and your narcissistic flying style gives you away to literally anyone who has ever seen you pilot."

"'Narcissistic flying style'?" Han scoffs "What does that even mean?"

"I don't know, shut up." You blushed, doing your best to avoid his gaze.

"You've got to get better at that, you know"

"At what?"

"Being mean. It doesn't suit you"

"Unless you want to figure out how well my foot suits your ass, I suggest you just shut up and fly"

He lets out a warm chuckle, laughing through his response -

"See what I mean? It just sounds weird coming out of your mouth. It's like a youngling swearing for the first time. To much bite, it's not natural yet"

"Well if you're so sure it's unnatural to me maybe I should take notes from you, you seem to have no problem being an asshole."

This one came out with a real bite, he's pissed you off now.

"And what does it matter? Maybe it's not natural to me because you're the only person who makes me feel like saying rude shit. Now what does come natural to me is flying, and maybe if you weren't so focused on how things sounded coming out of my mouth you'd have noticed the TIEs flying on either side of us."

"Oh shit!" He exclaimed, caught off guard for once.

"We're going to have to land on the ship."

"what? why?"

"We don't have access to their channels of communication and we're going to have to explain what the hell we're doing flying off Crait. If we start flying towards the reactor now they'll just gun us down. We can pretend to be the soldiers that crashed on this ship, explain that we were only missing because the engine failed and we needed time to repair it. The communicator broke in the crash, and that's why we haven't called for help, got it?"

"Got it, captain" He said, with an impressed lilt in his voice.

You smiled, tallying this as a win against him. If it was impressive to him that someone could come up with a plan that wasn’t whatever made the most explosions, then so be it. He’d just better be prepared to be impressed for the next few hours.

As Han flew the TIE into the landing bay, it became increasingly clear that this was going to take more convincing on your part than you were prepared for. The two TIEs guarding either side of you followed you into the port, and a group of high ranking soldiers began to gather where your ship was landing. You shot Han a concerned glance before remembering it was useless through your helmet. He seemed to get the message anyways, giving you a short nod in response. You just hoped that meant he was taking this as seriously as you were and wasn't planning on doing anything rash. 

The both of you slowly stepped out of the TIE, unsure of what the soldiers around you were planning. You tensed as a burly looking man approached, eyeing the both of you suspiciously-

“CF-0065, TZ-1764. It’s been quite some time since we’ve heard from you. Your vessels had been reported missing and it was our assumption that you had crashed or been captured. Explain what has kept you from reporting to your posts immediately.” 

He snapped, authority evident in his voice. You decided to cut in before Han could say something stupid-

“Yes, sir. Our vessels crashed on Crait, and we have spent the time in between now and then repairing the engine of the more salvageable ship. We were able to get it functioning yesterday, and we're working on getting the communication systems functioning next. We spotted your ship flying over and hoped to explain ourselves and have aid in fully repairing the TIE.”

“Ah, yes, well I’m glad you were able to recover your vessel and return to work. We could use the extras hands on board.”

“What exactly is the mission of this vessel?” Han chimed in. “We’d like to help in whatever way best suits our skills.” He added, nonchalantly.

The man, who you had now gathered to be the chief officer, began to walk. The two of you followed, doing your best impression of the mindless soldiers surrounding you.

“Well, we were sent to a maintenance level scan of this star system, but have since detected some suspicious activity on this planet in particular.”

 Your shoulders immediately tensed, and you shot a sideways glance at Han. 

“We would like to get a more comprehensive idea of the situation before moving forward, so as of now we have not reported anything to the other fleets in the area. We’d prefer not to alert the planet of our suspicions yet, and give them the least time to prepare if we decide to strike.”

You silently thanked the stars that they haven’t allerted anyone else of their suspicions. You know Han did too, it’s going to make what you have to do here a whole lot easier without an entire fleet against you.

"Well, we’re both especially skilled in repair and maintenance,” Han jutted in, “so if you could point us towards the engine room we would be happy to make sure everything is working in order while you further investigate the planet.”

It was a risky move, and the general eyed you suspiciously.

“The both of us were able to repair a damaged TIE fighter engine with nothing but the materials we were able to trade for on Crait, if you have any issues we’d be happy to help.” You added, hoping it would convince him.

“Actually,” he conceded, “I have been concerned about the operation system in one of  our navigation ports. We’ve been having quite a few rough takeoffs recently. I was going to wait until we landed to get it looked at, but since the two of you clearly possess enough skill to repair that TIE I’d rather you just take a look at it now.” 

He led the two of you down a series of long, winding hallways, which you did your best to memorize if a quick escape became necessary. The room he brought you to was a small one, with about a hundred buttons you barely recognized. You may be an experienced pilot, but Empire technology was something else entirely. You just hoped the general wasn’t planning on staying, or you and Han would have to put on a pretty convincing performance.

“So,” Han coughed, “what seems to be the matter?”

“Well since you two are such experienced mechanics, shouldn't you be the ones telling me?” The general questioned suspiciously.

“Of course, Sir,” You turned, praying to god that you could make some sense of this mess in time to keep your cover. “It looks like-”

A loud thud echoed behind you and you whipped around to see Han standing over the unconscious general. He just shrugged, turning to replace the wrench he pried off the wall to club him with.

“Han!” You whisper-shouted, trying not to alert more people than he probably just did by being his typical, impulsive self.

“What? He replied, “He was totally on to us and It was more trouble than it's worth to try and convince him we know anything about Empire tech.”

“Right, so you decided braining him with a wrench was the next best option?”

“We don’t have time for this, Y/N. At this point we’re going to have to sabotage the reactor from the inside, which might take more effort than we anticipated.”

“And what are we supposed to do with him?” You both eyed the unconscious general, and Han shifted his gaze to a utility closet in the corner.

A few good thunks with the wrench for extra measure later, the both of you began to fold, shove, and contort the general into a crate in the navigation room closet. You had taken your helmets off, sweating uncomfortably with the effort it took to lift the fairly bulky man across the room. You wiped your forehead, staring at the now properly concealed general, and shot a concerned glance at Han, 

“How long do you think it’ll take before they notice he’s gone?” 

“I think we’ve got some time,” He said, reaching for his helmet.

It was at that moment that the doorknob began to jiggle, and in a blur of movement Han had you up against the wall with his lips on yours. It didn’t even register at first, shock and adrenaline coursing through your veins hard enough to freeze you completely.You weren’t exactly sure what the rules were in The Galactic Empire about soldiers kissing, but you had a feeling the punishment for being caught would be less severe than killing a high ranking general. Plus, this was probably the easiest way to hide both of your helmetless faces, yours may not be recognizable, but his certainly is. It took a second before you began to kiss him back, but by the time you let yourself reciprocate, you heard the door click shut and Han pulled away. You kicked yourself and your neurotic brain for running through all of the possible plans of action before you even got the chance to soak it in. You’d dreamed of this so many times, and in so many ways, and the one time it’ll probably ever happen you let it get away from you. As you looked back up at Han, he was stuck with the same searching look you couldn’t wipe off your face. You stared back at him for a second, trying to gauge his reaction.

Han butted in, cutting right through your thoughts. “Maybe we should do that again. You know, just in case they come back.” He said, dazed.

“Yeah…” You muttered, “Yeah that might be best.”

His lips crashed back into yours, and you kissed him with a renewed sense of purpose. Han kissed with a passion you had never felt before. With everyone else it had been awkward and fumbling, but the two of you seemed to fit together so naturally. You took a metal note of every part of him, from the rough feeling of his lips to the bold flick of his tongue. You tried to memorize everything you loved about this, because you knew it was never going to happen again. You’re sure you were going to torture yourself with this moment forever, so you might as well remember it as clearly as possible. The way his hands grazed your waist, not grabbing, but just hovering above your hips with a feather-like touch as if he was afraid you were going to burn him. How his adams apple bobbed when you kissed his neck, swallowing hard out of desperation. The way his hands felt in your hair, not tugging, but carding through it with a sort of reverence. He pulled away too soon, tearing you out of your blissful analysis of his body and back into the present tense. 

“We can’t keep doing that,” He said, panting.

“Yeah, I think we’re in the clear and we need to find the reactor” You replied, trying your best to hide how it stung and moving towards your helmet.

“No.” Han put both his hands on your shoulder, holding you in place, “No, we can’t keep doing that because if we do I will want to do it again.”

“What?” You paused, shocked.

“You know what I mean, Y/N, don’t make me say it out loud.”

You stared back at him blankly, truly at a loss for words.

“Jesus Y/N, Do I have to spell it out for you? I’m in love with you!”

“What?” Seemed to be the only word your brain could muster in this moment. You felt as though your whole world view was crashing around you, as though the very ground beneath you was shaking… On second thought, the ground might actually be shaking, because judging by Hans face you weren't the only one feeling the rumbling beneath you.

“We’ll deal with this later.” He shot you a look before grabbing his helmet and running out the door, following quickly after to discover what was the matter. 

It became clear as you walked that the ship was preparing for takeoff, but you weren’t sure why. Your nerves were on fire, and you know you’ve wasted too much time to get it wrong now.

“That general sure wasn’t kidding when he said their takeoffs were rough. We need to get to the reactor before they can get the ship up and running or we’re screwed.” Han said, eyeing you nervously.

“Do you think if we go back to the landing bay we can tell them we have orders to go back to Crait and investigate some of the suspicious activity we saw on-world? If we take a nicer ship than the TIE we came in we won't have to worry about the blasters not being strong enough to take down the ship.” You replied, already in go-mode.

“Sounds like a great plan,” Han said, voice dripping with sarcasm, “except how the hell are we supposed to find our way back to the landing bay with no map of the ship?”

“Just trust me.” You said, grabbing his arm and leading him down the hall. Your freakish memory is good for more than memorizing Hans lips, and you were able to bring the two of you back exactly the way you came. You strode up to the nearest pilot you could find, and with the confidence of somebody who has no other choice, demands he give the two of you access to an ST-70 Assault Ship. 

“For what purpose?” He responds, taken aback by your assertiveness.

“We are the two soldiers who we’re just recovered from Crait, and were ordered back down there to investigate suspicious activity on the planet. We don’t have time for this, just give us the vessel.” Han repeated what you had planned to the pilot, striding towards the ST-70. 

“I haven’t been told of such an order, the two of you are going to need to wait until I receive the command from higher up to authorize use of this vessel.” The pilot replies sharply.

“We’ve already been held up by engine maintenance,” You added, not exactly sure where this was going but hoping you found something convincing to say in the midst of your rambling, “and spent much of that time relaying to a general on this ship the reason for our brief disappearance. We are part of a high clearance mission to uncover rebel activity on the planet Crait, and are close to infiltrating one of the largest branches of their military. We came here to dismiss your vessel, as we were worried your presence would alert the Rebel Alliance of our presence on the planet.”

Han joined in, stepping up to the unarmed pilot with his intimidating stature. 

“If you don’t hand over this vessel, the failure of a months-long plan to eliminate one of the largest branches of the Rebel Alliance will be on your head. Whatever you think we might do with this ship that is ‘unauthorized’ cannot possibly have consequences as dire for you as that will.” Han rolled his shoulders back, taking one more menacing step forward.

The pilot stepped aside, granting you and Han access to the ST-70. If the two of you make it out of here, you would have to be permanently assigned as partners for missions like these. You have never felt more invigorated or on your game than when you were with Han, the idea of the word ‘partners in crime’ finally settling in your skin. You weren’t out of the woods yet though, and as Han began to start the ships engines, a very rumpled looking general marched into the landing bay.

“Shit!” You exclaimed. “Go, Han, Go, go, go go GO!”

“I hear you Y/N!” Han shouted back, kicking the ship into overdrive and jolting you violently into space.

 You got a few feet out from the ship before three TIE fighters started tailing you, and Han took a sharp left before nose-diving under the belly of the ship. You whipped around to the laser cannons, doing you best to aim as Han whipped the ship around to try and find the main engine. Just as you took one TIE out, two more appeared.

“Do you have eyes on the engine Han?” You shouted, limbs tingling as you shot down two more TIE fighters.

“Got it!” He yelled back, and you swiveled to face the ship's surface as he flew at top speed towards the engine.

You began to count down, preparing Han to nose dive the second you blasted this thing out of the sky.

“Three… two.. One!” You fired directly at the engine, and your stomach did somersaults as Han dodged the blast.  

“Yes!” He screamed, and you laughed with manic joy as you felt relief wash over you. 

The TIE fighters following you weren’t prepared to dodge the blast, and the two of you watched joyfully as they went down with the ship. You barreled towards Crait, with more than just a successful mission to show for it. The two of you had just destroyed a high ranking Empire ship, and come back with an ST-70 Razor Crest M-11 ship as your bounty. Han landed the ship and ripped off his helmet, smiling from ear to ear. The excitement was electric, making its way through every limb and out your fingers to charge the atmosphere around you. You turned to Han and before you knew it you were crashing your lips into his, desperate for an outlet. He kissed you back with double the vigor of the last time, and seemed to be determined to explore every inch of you. Your mouth, your waist, your hair, your thighs, he groped and fumbled at all of you as you pushed back with just as much energy. Kissing Han felt like, for lack of better word, winning. Winning your first race as a newly vetted pilot, winning a mission against the empire, winning the man you thought wanted nothing to do with you and you thought you wanted nothing to do with. You laughed into the kiss as he bit your lip, giddy with an amount of energy you didn’t know how to control. 

“What?” He said, sporting that smug grin you always wanted to slap off of his face.

“Nothing,” you replied, deciding firmly that kissing it off was the better option. “I’ve just been so in love with you forever and can’t believe this is happening.”

FIN.

Okay I JUST read one of your fics and saw your post and i would like to say: I love how you write Anakin!! Your writing is incredible, it's very visual and your characterization is *chef's kiss*

oh thank you! yeah, anakin is a difficult voice to nail down and there are so many different interpretations of his character, so I'm glad that you liked my interpretation of his character. I sometimes worry that I'm overtly descriptive, and it approaches 'her skin was smooth as caramel', so I'm glad to see that you liked it.

I read a lot of your fics in ao3, and I adored your writing style. You were actually one of my inspirations along with @ozvezdja for writing my padme-centric piece on ao3.

even as a shadow, even as a dream

The tomb preserved everything perfectly. 

Her image was preserved for all eternity in the stained glass. It felt almost larger than life, with her regnal portrait transferred to the stained glass. Her brown tresses framed her face sharply, and her cold eyes carried grace and class in a way that even her best speeches never truly brought on. The immaculate image she sought to cultivate every time that he saw her get ready for in the Senate was perfect. An icon for the ages. 

She stares at him in final judgment; the tone, the serenity, it all carried him back to another woman, with green locks and pale skin, who stood for light and paid the price for her folly. In another life, when his deepest nightmares merely encroached on his reality rather than merge with it, he imagined himself in black with pale skin, holding the weapon shakily as everything bled and suffered to its death. He’d sit the ashes he’d made, hovering over a body, weapon impaling as his bloody hands wrapped around the handle as the Force screamed what did you do. 

My nightmares were always my reality, only I was too weak to see it. I could only hide, and when running was impossible, I crumbled and burned everything else for a chance to escape only to fall into the fire I set ablaze. 

Vader stalks through the mausoleum, footsteps dull and angry despite the hesitance in their master. The doors whistled quietly as they shut, the small thud echoing through the chamber until it became a deafening roar. His cape swished ominously, frighteningly cheery and disturbing large swaths of air. Everything about his presence in the tomb was foul, unnatural and inhumane, yet he felt drawn to it. 

When he finally gained the arrogance to reenter Naboo and attend her mausoleum, he stopped in front of the carved doors for two minutes. His background swirled in that Force-damned red tinge, his limbs weighed him until it felt like agony to simply remain upright, and his breathing so loud it almost managed to drown out the last words of a strangled woman. 

I love you…..Anakin..

Her coffin had her image carved into it, and for a moment he reaches out, to tenderly stroke her face, and he withdraws. He is a monster, she is dead. He will forever hate himself to death, and deny himself the release of impalement, for he would never deserve it. She would remain dead, the galaxy would spin on its uncaring rotation, oblivious to the rage he wreaked upon it. He loved her, oh how he loved her, but that love could not keep her. He'd love her as misery loved him, and even misery's tight fingers felt like a loose grip as he remembered choking the life from her. He once may have proclaimed his desire to move the stars for her joy, to warp reality to her whims, to burn her enemies, smiling at their agonizing screams and to wretch the eyes from her enemies and string them like pearls, but that life was over. None of that weak man, of the lakes of Varykino, of an office corner in Coruscant, of a wine bottle on a speeder exists.

He settles for kneeling, and almost scoffs at the delusions he enjoys laboring under. For all of his denials, hatred and numb terror, he is powerless at her hands. Death, for all of its unstoppable malice and vitriol, could not crush his weakness. 

The whiteness of everything, the morning star’s light filtering through the stained glass, the marble arches and walkways, her coffin, the last image of her that he would ever see, repelled him. The purity, the kindness, the goodness, it all fell into a mockery of sorts. Everything that she dedicated herself towards, he proved himself to be the antithesis of. Her Republic was overthrown, fallen with him to create his Empire. Her belief in the goodness of the Jedi? Lost to the cold sweeps of times, which would wash the Jedi’s deeds away until they were nothing more than an ancient memory. 

The cold marble seemed to freeze into his joints, almost as a warning. Leave, do not return. Poison this place no longer, demon.  

And when Darth Vader turned to leave, he could feel arms around him. He wasn’t sure whether they were holding him in place or dragging him out: kicking, punching, screaming leave leave before he infected her forever. 

RULES: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPS.

thanks for the tag, @justadmiringanakin. i have so many projects in my mind right now; it's crazy. i don't think i can't tag as many people as i have WIPs, because i have somewhere upwards of 30-40. So, I'm eliminating all the ones that are just concepts.

the moon is high | anidala | modern au | scorned lovers | alcoholic!Padme and BPD!Anakin

people help the people | anakin skywalker | tatooine slavery | bury the past| slavery

plunge into the ocean and drown | anakin skywalker | obi-wan kenobi | blood(ied) brothers| drowning

filters of the late republic | in-universe analysis | worldbuilding | what happened to anakin skywalker?

people help the people (reprise)| rex | slavery | the nightmare lies in knowing | death to the republic

you can't choose to love(your children) me | anidala | pregnancy scare| relationships freeze, never burn

leave behind the prettiest corpse | anakin | assisted atttempted death | talking to your dead ghosts

wine and redesign | anakin | rex | ahsoka| trauma traumatizing| didn't your guardians hate you

i have a bunch of other ones, especially for my walk over the Force project, but these are the ones that have plot and story development.

tags (apologies if you do not want to be tagged): @clawedandcute, @kayedium-writes, @ineedausernamel829, @skyguygeneraltano, @justanauthor17, @ozvezdja, @padmeanddorme, @summer1012lemon

honestly, ask me about this. please send me asks about this. i love talking about my WIPs; the problem is writing them.

two left turns

Luke eyed his mother as Leia sat down next to him. She had called a family meeting, which could mean any number of things when your mother was the leader of the Rebel Alliance. Last time, Padme had coolly informed her children that they’d have to evacuate within the next six hours and that they’d better not ‘forget’ their textbooks this time, leveling the stern maternal gaze she’d mastered for as long as Luke could remember. The time before, she had wanted to discuss behavioral attitudes and proper communication styles, as she’d termed it. To be fair, that had been around the time Leia had hurled that insult about being a revolting frog face towards that sleemo. Padme had said she agreed with the sentiment but disapproved of the medium.

Leia, never one to beat around the bush, dove in first. “Why did you want to talk to us?”

Mom gathering them as a family unit – well, it wasn’t rare – they had lived their whole lives on hidden Rebel bases, running from one place to the next in the dark of night, and Luke couldn’t imagine not having Mom there, as much a fixture of the base as the odd jumble of essential equipment ever-present in the command room – but she was also one of the leaders of the Rebel Alliance. Family dinners weren’t a daily occurrence. Once, when Luke had been small and traveling to a new base, he had spotted a family in a village sitting together and laughing as they ate. He’d wondered if he was supposed to feel wistful, but all he really felt was hungry. Base food wasn’t something to write home about (if your home had ever been anywhere but the base, that is), and the greasy home-cooked meal the family had been eating looked delicious.

Sitting at the table, sister next to him, mother in front of him, he waited for the announcement, mind wandering to the ship he’d been tinkering with earlier. He’d been (firmly) told that he could learn to fly when he turned sixteen and not a day, hour, or half-minute earlier, but Luke was sure that he could shorten that timeline if he fixed up a ship of his own. Mom liked initiative. Although what the twins deemed initiative, she often deemed foolhardy. Mom never called it that, because she was Mom, but they’d been subjected to many talks about not rushing in where angels feared to tread over the years. (Luke personally thought Mom was worse than them about diving in and looking later, but that was neither here nor there).

Mom paused. Luke felt Leia lift an eyebrow. Wasn’t like Mom to hesitate. Think over a measured response, sure, but she was the one who had called this meeting.

She folded her hands on the table and smiled. “I have some…wonderful news. Happy news.”

Although Luke couldn’t see Leia’s face, he knew her eyes had narrowed. News that was actually good wouldn’t be described repeatedly as good, wonderful, happy, or whatever other adjectives Mom had filtered through in preparing for this meeting (because Mom had absolutely prepared – she hadn’t become queen at fourteen flying by the seat of her designer pants). He scooted his chair forward, and with all the weight of his fifteen years, asked seriously, “What’s the news?”

He nearly added a we can handle it but decided it was over the top, even for him. As Luke had gotten older, he had tried to develop a steady keel around Mom (Luke felt protective of her, sue him), but unfortunately for Luke, he was about as even keeled as a newborn eopie foal wobbling to its feet and yet to find its balance. Leia had told him he’d grow into it, but Leia had been a natural leader from day one – sure of herself, never tripping over her feet because she was gangly, never stumbling over her words because she’d said the wrong thing, never making the parade of mistakes Luke seemed to have on daily rotation. He’d once told Leia he felt like a bantha next to her krayt dragon, and she had ruffled his hair and said banthas were important too. Not the response he’d wanted, but an honest one. Her answer had managed to comfort Luke while also putting in him in his place, a talent Leia had always had on pat as his sister (although his younger one, something he took each and every opportunity to remind her of). Luke had sulkily asked Mom about it, and Mom had said his mistake had been comparing himself to a farm animal in the first place, then added something about framing being as important as analysis.

Leia poked him under the table. She could probably tell his mind was spinning out of control, and being Leia, decided to end it with her trademark efficiency. “Yeah, what’s this amazing news?”

Mom smiled at them. Then said a sentence Luke, as a teenage boy, had never expected or wanted to hear from his mother.

“I’m pregnant.”

Luke and Leia stared. Mom waited patiently for a response, still smiling.

“Mom, what?” Leia sounded like she was trying to be excited but just came off as confused with an undertone of disgust, like she had smelled something rotten and couldn’t figure out where it was coming from.

Luke just felt disgusted. Pregnant? There were so many implications to that statement, none of which Luke wanted to consider. Mom had been single for as long as Luke had been alive – at least, Luke had thought his mom was single. A worldview that had been capsized with two words. Brutally shipwrecked over the span of two seconds, never to return to normal again, forever stranded on this brave new world in which his mother had romantic liaisons. (Okay, maybe Luke was being melodramatic).

Mom kept smiling, but wryly. “I understand this is a shock.”

“Who?” Luke managed to get out. Not in a comprehensible way, but he’d take what he could get when his mind felt like it had been hit on the back of the head with a frying pan.  

Mom raised an eyebrow. “Who?”

“He’s asking who the dad is,” Leia translated. With a furtive glance, “If you’re willing to share, of course.” Force, Leia was sounding uncertain. Luke couldn’t blame her. He too wasn’t sure what the playbook for asking about your mom’s heretofore unknown romantic life was, if one even existed. Or if they even wanted the answers to those asks. Just, ew.

Mom hesitated.

Luke made to stop a disaster before it started. “You don’t have to tell us.” I really, really don’t want to know. It was obvious that whoever it was wouldn’t be a part of their lives, given that they had yet to meet him, and Luke didn’t need any further details about looking into each other’s eyes in the starlight or whatever other romantic guff would come with that story.

Leia snorted, sensing his thoughts, then shook her head and smiled, this time with real delight. “I can’t believe we’re going to have a little sibling.”

Grinning, Mom said, “I can’t believe it either. It was quite the surprise.”

Luke huffed. “I already have one little sibling – ow, Leia! I’m just telling the truth! – I don’t know how I’m going to deal with a half-sibling.” Despite himself, he grinned too. This…this was nice. Exciting, in fact. He loved Leia. He knew he’d love this sibling too.  

“Um,” Mom cleared her throat.

Oh, great. “Let me guess, it’s twins again?” Luke mournfully bid goodbye to any private space in their already cramped quarters. He bravely told himself not to complain. Whining was a habit he had yet to shake in his pursuit of a steady keeled manliness, but Luke secretly felt he had some license to grouse as a fifteen-year-old boy wanted in three systems for terrorism because he existed as the child of Padme Naberrie.

Mom carefully examined her teacup. “Full sibling. They’ll be a full sibling.”

Hold on a minute—

“What?” Leia stood up, chair scraping, mouth open in enraged shock.  

Luke wanted to join her in her display of outrage, but he was still goggling.

Mom had never told them anything about their dad. Leia and Luke had always assumed he was dead or, (even worse in their eyes) a deadbeat.

(When they were little, they’d used to create giant blanket forts while Mom was away on longer missions, when the night got too cold and their quarters too quiet, and discuss what he must have been like in hushed whispers. Luke was sure he’d loved flying too. Leia was sure he’d snapped at idiots too. Both were sure they’d never know his name).

Leia launched into her invective of accusations. “You’ve never told us anything. You’ve let us think he was dead—" She stopped as Mom raised a placating hand.   

“I know. I admit that was unfair.”

With a blast of cold fury, Luke leapt up to join Leia. “Unfair? Do you even know—” He choked on his words, aforementioned verbal stumbling coming up to bite him in the behind, but thought that his tight glare spoke well enough for him. Luke had thought his dad was a dead or a deadbeat, sure, but that hadn’t meant – hadn’t meant—

He’d wanted a father for so long. Wanting, longing mixed in with a desperate need to know more about his own, one he’d shoved down for the sake of Mom even as it hurt. Longing that had grown as he’d gotten older and slammed into Things He Could Not Discuss With Mom, such as how angry he felt sometimes (Mom was fierce but not angry, not like her children could be), how diplomacy bored him to tears, how he wanted someone who would actually understand when he eagerly talked about the differences in X-Wing models instead of nodding patiently.

Mom was great. Luke couldn’t be happier with Mom.

But Mom wasn’t Dad.

And not having a dad made Luke feel…askew, like a one-winged bird or two-legged stool. A puzzle with half the pieces missing, one you’d merrily be putting it together only to keep hitting random gaps and having to work around them, all while knowing you'd never have the complete picture despite your efforts. 

Luke wanted to throw all these thoughts at his mom, but he knew in the process of getting them from his mind out of his mouth they’d lose half the detail and color and end up being verbal diarrhea, so he just clamped his mouth shut and scowled.

Luckily for him, Leia possessed the articulate ferocity he lacked. “You lied to us. Our whole lives.” Her jaw clenched as she watched their mother, still calmly in her chair at the other end of the table.

Padme sat there, accepting their blame and their betrayal. “I did.” She leaned forward, resting her hand on the middle of the table, then asked, “What would you like to know?”

With that question, Luke knew – his life was about to change forever.

beautiful, stinging pain

THE KINDEST THING —

Drawn forwards by guilty consciousness, she leaned over his prone form and gently unclasped his helmet. Pulled away carefully, only to drop the thing against the ground and stagger away when she saw his face and that familiar, trailing scar.

“Cody?” She breathed, horror staining her voice.

—

Five years on from the death of everything, Ahsoka and Cody run into each other. They talk.

Well there are these fic's

I think they are exactly that

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11706597

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26918308

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16455863

I'm not sure if that is what you meant but I love these fic's.

The first ones are compleate, but the last one is on hold.

P.S. This fic is similar

imagine if the senate made the jedi like make a documentary for whatever reason so the public view during the war of them gets better or something and it’s just the funniest shit ever bc the Jedi might be seen as just rigid or uptight by the public but it’s the total opposite

Chapters: 6/? Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker, Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, Qui-Gon Jinn & Anakin Skywalker Characters: Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker, Ahsoka Tano, Qui-Gon Jinn Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Worldbuilding, Original Character(s), Original Sith Character(s) - Freeform, Eldritch Anakin Skywalker, Yoda's Disaster Lineage (Star Wars), Jedi Can Form Attachments (Star Wars), The Force Ships It (Star Wars), Sith Obi-Wan Kenobi, Slow Burn Summary:

Anakin just wanted to find the Sith artifact, return to his ship and crawl into his nest to help his padawan with her homework while watching Holocomedies. Getting saved and abducted by strange new Sith was not part of the plan. Then again when has anything ever gone according to plan in his Lineage? What do you mean Force Marriage?

I love this fic, it's like sleep medication for me. It makes me feel so cozy. I know it's active Obikin, with what some people have problems with, but the authors writing is so GOOD. Also Eldritch Anakin.

Relationships: Maulsoka, although this chapter is more a ‘‘Bosoka if you squint’‘ tbh. 

Chapter 5 is up!  Sooooo it's a shorter chapter—consider it a tiny snack, or an entrée—because I decided to post this scene on its own rather than with two others. The good news? Chapter 6 is almost finished already and should be up in just a few days!

Chapters: 6 Fandom: Star Wars Rating: Explicit of later chapters Relationships: Darth Maul/Ahsoka Tano

Ahsoka had defeated her opponents and survived—yet she had lost everything. In the aftermath of Order 66, she wakes up to find herself saved by an unexpected ally – Maul. Now they travel together, light and dark, bickering their way through a galaxy in desperate need of balance.