#when talking to delta squad
Text
—LOVING YOU IS THE ANTIDOTE
frat!jake seresin x f!reader
dagger squad college!au
summary: you didn’t like jake seresin. you tolerated him. if you hadn’t befriended bradley bradshaw, you wouldn’t have given him the time of day. he was everything you weren’t. delta chi’s golden boy, popular, desirable, and a charmer. you did not like jake seresin. so why did it hurt when he didn’t want you?
wc: a monstrous 8.6k
warning(s): 18+, fem!reader, no y/n (reader goes by nickname ace), mentions of sex/hookups, alcohol and drinking, weed (briefly mentioned), self deprecating thoughts, jake is lowkey an asshole, and language
𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊, 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃!
Whoever said group projects got easier in college don’t know what they’re talking about. If anything, group projects were the bane of your existence—the reason why you considered dropping out every semester. Being in your third year, you were just barely surviving the group project epidemic. This semester, however, had you at your wits end. All because of a stupid assigned group project.
You had an affinity for being a perfectionist. You were all work and no play. While many of your peers thought it was infuriating, you saw it as your best feature. You got things done. You couldn’t say the same for everyone else. A stick in the mud, a hardass, whatever they chose to call you didn’t matter at the end of the day.
“I’m telling you Nat, they’re imbeciles. The entire time we were exchanging contact information, I thought my head was going to explode from the idiocy spewing from their mouths.” Sitting in the busy dining hall, you rant to your best friend Natasha Trace of the absolute horrors of group mates you’ve been given for this assignment.
You met Natasha at a student mixer in your first year of university. The two of you hit it off immediately from bonding over your tastes for cheesy romance novels and an overly concerning obsession for Dr. Pepper and Smarties. Since then, you two became thick as thieves and haven’t looked back since.
“Maybe you’re being a little too quick to judge,” Nat counters, playing on the remaining peas on her plate with her fork. “You haven’t even given ‘em a chance yet.” That was Natasha for you, ever the voice of reason for your dislike of any person who wasn’t the three you were friends with.
You roll your eyes and cross your arms across your chest with a pout. “If you met them, I bet you would be saying the exact same thing. Besides, they’re frat guys. Isn’t that reason to hate them enough?”
“Why didn’t you lead with that? What’re their names? We can get Mickey to stalk them on Instagram or something.” Her eyes light up at the idea. She doesn’t even give you the chance to answer as she pulls out her phone, no doubt to text Mickey if he could do her a favor.
Mickey Garcia was another one of those close friends of yours. You met him at a Halloween Party where he showed up dressed as Poe Dameron from the later Star Wars movies. Your affinity for Star Wars and a love for Oscar Isaac drew you to him, eventually earning him the affectionate nickname of Fanboy. You introduced him to Natasha and the rest was history.
You swat at her hand, silently telling her to drop her phone. “No. We are not stalking them on Instagram.”
The sound of her text tone going off makes you groan. “Too late. Mick already said he’d do it. So, what are their names?”
You shovel another spoonful of mashed potatoes into your mouth before begrudgingly responding. “Bradley and Jake.” Their names taste like acid in your mouth. So what if you were being a little too quick to judge? You’ve done enough group projects to know this would end up being yet another you would be doing all by yourself.
Natasha’s quiet as she types up their names and sends them back to Mickey. Barely five minutes passes when she receives a response back. “Is this them?” She shows you her screen and at this point, you’ve learned not to question how Mickey could have possibly found them in the sea of Jake and Bradleys that go to your university–let alone pick out the right ones. You nod and she laughs, scrolling through her phone before moving to the seat next to you. “What did I tell you? He found their Instagram, Twitter, and Tinder profiles! God bless, Mickey Garcia.”
You push your head against hers, curiosity killing all resolve you had of not caring. The two of you go through their Instagrams and tagged posts like you were reading the morning paper. There wasn’t anything too surprising about them. It was everything you would expect from a twenty something year old guy in a college fraternity. You hated to admit, however, that they were attractive. You were probably too irritated in class to pay attention to how good looking they are. But that doesn’t dismiss the fact that you were still dreading to work with the two.
“See?” You tell Natasha, motioning to the photo she has pulled up of Bradley on one of his fishing trips. “They are grade-A assholes. Everything about them screams douchebag.”
“You gotta admit, they’re hot,” she breathes and you smack her on the shoulder.
“Natasha Monica Trace!”
Nat shoves you back before shrugging. “What? Don’t you agree?”
“Of course I do, but may I remind you that looks do not equal brains.” You snatch the phone from her grasp and exit out of Instagram.
Nat places a gentle hand on the crook of your elbow, noticing the tension in your body. “Just give them a chance, babe. What’s the worst that could happen?”
_______
You didn’t think it was possible to be friends, let alone acquaintances with Delta Chi’s favorite heartbreakers. Three months and two parties later, you found yourself tolerating your fellow project partners. Then the impossible happened. Bradley Bradshaw and Jake Seresin proved your first impression of them wrong. Well, Bradley did. Jake was the preppy douchebag you suspected him to be. He sat back while Bradley and you pulled his weight. You hated him and his dimpled, Hollywood smile. You hated those lips that knew exactly what to say to get anyone in a three foot radius on their knees. Not to mention those annoyingly green eyes of his.
Once the project was complete you thought you’d never have to interact with them ever again. Oh, how wrong you were. If only you hadn’t offered up your apartment to complete the assignment. Then they wouldn’t have met Nat, Mickey, and Bob. They wouldn’t have invited them to their stupid frat party. You wouldn’t have been forced to see them outside of scheduled study time and your friends wouldn’t have fallen perfectly in line with theirs.
Though you will admit, they weren’t all bad. Surprisingly, you actually appreciated most of their company. Underneath Bradley’s frat boy personality, was a secretly brainy political science major and one of the sweetest people you’ve ever met. His other friends, both from Delta Chi, also became fast additions to your little group. Javy Machado and Reuben Fitch were charmers and they knew it. But they were kind and didn’t have an obnoxiously large ego that most frat boys had.
You loved them all, but you couldn’t stand Jake Seresin. No matter how badly he tried to get on your good side, you wouldn’t have it. You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of being another person to fall victim to his charm.
“Well Ace, you’ve somehow managed to ruin the fun. Again,” Jake deadpans from where he sits across from you at the coffee table. He bet that you couldn’t beat him at a round of chess. You took that challenge and beat him in three rounds.
A smug smile overcomes your features as you get up from your criss-crossed position and do a little happy dance at Jake’s obvious disappointment. “Snooze, you lose, Hangman.”
He groans at the appointed nickname you gave him two weeks into knowing him. Jake had been bragging about his latest sexual escapades and Bradley said something along the lines of him leaving his catch of the day hanging, disappearing before morning. The nickname stuck and became universally used within your friend group.
You miss the slight upward tug of his lips when you turn around and head to the kitchen to grab another bottle of water.
Bob, who had been observing each match and quietly serving as referee, broke Jake out of his reverie. “You went easy on her.”
Jake avoids Bob’s inquisitive stare and focuses on the faded chessboard. “No I didn’t.”
“Yes you did,” he quips, matter of factly. “I’ve seen you play against Bradley. You’re better than that.”
“Well, maybe I didn’t want her to feel bad for losing,” He shrugs, nonchalantly.
“Or maybe you just like seeing her win.”
Jake chucks the pillow he was sitting on at Bob, quickly shutting him up with a squeak. You make your way back to the table, eyeing the two boys at their strange behavior. “You up for one more round, Seresin?”
He checks his watch. “Can’t. Have a thing with Sarah tonight.”
The information makes your heart drop just a little bit in your chest, but you regain your composure. You clear your throat and harden your features. “Oh. Have fun at your…thing.” He didn’t have to tell you it was a hookup for you to know it was a hookup. He had “things” every week, which is why you didn’t understand why this time hurt you just a little more.
The room is silent after Jake leaves with you washing the dishes while Bob sits and reads on the couch. You anxiously looked to the clock that was incessantly ticking away on the wall, desperate for Natasha to get home. You loved Bob, but right now you needed to have some girl talk.
You exasperatedly sigh, harshly wiping your palms on the dish rag on your shoulder.
Bob hums, silently questioning what the matter was.
“Did Nat say when she was coming home?” You throw the rag on the counter and plop yourself down beside him. “I tried texting her but she hasn’t responded.”
Bob thinks for a minute, then responds, “Nope.”
“Well how long is it gonna take her to run this damn errand?”
One thing about Bob: he was a shit liar. The tips of his ears immediately got red and his blue eyes never had the guts to meet those he was lying to.
“Bob…” You scoot closer to him, noticing the tell tale signs of his dishonesty.
“What?” His voice cracks and so does his last bit of dignity.
“When’s Natasha coming home?”
One look into your narrowed eyes is all it takes to have Bob breaking his resolve. “Alright, fine. She said she was going to be out past dinner.”
“Why?”
The frown on your face almost breaks his heart. “She–well…” He hated lying to you, especially when you looked at him like that. Your little pout and wide eyes had him cursing silently. “She went on a date.”
“Oh.” Your brows screw up in confusion. “Then why didn’t she just tell me?”
Bob cringes. “Don’t tell her I told you, otherwise she will kill me.”
You hold your pinky out to him with a small smile. He links his with yours and the two of you press a soft kiss to your fisted hands before pulling away.
“Alright, fine. She didn’t tell you because she’s going on a date with Javy,” he rushes out.
You blink, processing the information. You and Nat told each other everything. Why did she feel the need to hide this from you? You voice your thoughts out loud and Bob shakes his head.
“She thought you were gonna blow up at her for going out with him. You know, because he’s Jake’s best friend and all.” Bob watches you cautiously. Your temper was unpredictable sometimes. One second you would be fine and the next you would be blowing your top off. He wasn’t sure which side of you he was going to get this time.
A sniffle leaves you and you wipe at your nose with the back of your hand. “Why would I get mad at her for that?”
“Because you haven’t had the kindest of opinions towards women who date frat guys, especially Delta Chi ones.”
You vaguely recall that conversation. You had called those women “airheads who are addicted to sex.” But you didn’t mean it. You were drunk and bitter about the fact that you were in your third year of college and still single. Had you known Nat wanted to go out with Javy, you would’ve kept your big mouth shut. “But I like Javy,” is all you can say.
Bob nods. “Yeah, but you hate Jake.”
Your gaze snaps back to him. “So?”
“So, she thought going out with him was like… I don’t know. Fraternizing with the enemy?”
“But Javy’s my friend. I don’t care about how close he is to Hangman. He isn’t like him,” you huff. Pulling your knees to your chest, you take a deep breath. “If he makes her happy then…she should go out with him. I just wish she told me.”
Bob wraps his arm around you, tugging you so your head could rest on his shoulder. He knew there was more to this than you let on. But he let it slide, choosing to comfort you in your conflicted feelings. “When Nat gets home, you should tell her that.”
“I will,” you murmur into the fabric of his sweatshirt.
He presses a soft kiss to the crown of your head. “Good.”
It’s at that moment that the apartment door swings open, revealing Mickey with Jake in tow. Your head snaps up and you see Jake standing there with his mouth agape.
Mickey nods at you and Bob in quick greeting before pointing a thumb at the man behind him. “Idiot forgot his jacket again. It’s a good thing he caught me in the parking lot.”
You laugh awkwardly, stiffening in Bob’s hold.
You feel his arm drop from around your shoulder as he clears his throat, looking away from Jake.
“Sorry,” Jake’s voice is rough and there’s a look in his eyes that you can’t quite place. “Didn’t mean to interrupt.”
Bob waves him off. “It’s all good. You weren’t interrupting anything. Right, Ace?”
You can only nod dumbly, still not taking your eyes off of Jake’s vibrant green.
Jake clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth. “Alright. Well, thanks again for letting me in, Mick. I’ll um, catch you guys later I guess.” He steals one last look of you snugly wrapped up in Bob before rushing out the door with a small shake of his head.
Jake doesn’t speak to you for a week after that.
_______
The tune of Slow Ride hits your ears and you groan into your cup. Bradley looks at you in amusement from where you sit beside him on the stairs. The boys had decided to unwind from yet another stressful week with yet another Delta Chi party. You were pretty adamant on sitting this one out, mainly because you didn’t want to see Jake or his new conquest of the week. Things have been tense to say the least. The fact that you and Jake didn’t get along wasn’t new to the group, however as the days passed, your nonstop bickering eventually turned to tolerance for one another. Enough to almost say the two of you were even becoming friends.
Jake still annoyed you to your core but his company somehow managed to grow on you. Which is why his sudden radio silence upset you. It got to the point that you couldn’t even look at him without seeing red.
“This is stupid,” you grumble, taking another swig of the cheap beer in your cup. You hated these parties. Normally, your friends wouldn’t mind you opting out to stay home instead. However Nat had noticed how your sour mood progressed throughout the week and concluded that you needed to get out to places that weren’t the lecture halls. She begged you to come with her to the party Delta Chi was throwing this weekend. For me? she pleaded, knowing just how much you hated saying no to her. Now that you were here, you longed to be back in the confines of your apartment, snuggled under your covers with a cup of tea and Emily Henry to keep you company.
Instead, you found yourself crammed in a two story frat house that was filled to the brim with sweaty and intoxicated bodies. The music was too loud and the smell of alcohol and weed was sure to be stuck on your clothes by the night’s end. The only thing keeping you sane was Bradley’s company and you knew that as the night progressed, even he would soon disappear.
“You want me to take you home?” Bradley asks, leaning down to your ear so you can hear him.
You shake your head, pushing at his shoulder. “It’s fine. Besides, I have a feeling you’re gonna get lucky tonight, Bachelor.” You nod towards the blonde in the corner of the room whose eyes haven’t left Bradley since the two of you migrated to the staircase.
He was practically drooling under the dimmed lights as he followed your motions. Bradley sends the girl a smirk before looking at you wordlessly.
“Go,” you urge him with a laugh.
He lets out a breath, downing the rest of his drink and giving your knee a squeeze. “Thanks. I owe you!”
You playfully roll your eyes. “Yeah, whatever. Be safe!”
Bradley winks at you over his shoulder. “Always am!”
The small smile on your lips fades as you watch Bradley go and flirt with the pretty blonde. You were never the center of attention, never the type that anyone gave their time of day to. You were average. Plain boring. The constant reminder of that was there when you hung out with the boys. You loved them, but hearing the way they talked about other girls did take a stab at your self esteem. You used to make fun of them with Natasha but then she started dating Javy, and became one of those girls. And you don’t blame them, your best friend was gorgeous. Anyone with eyes could see that. You convinced yourself that you liked the lack of attention and isolation. But every now and then, you wished someone saw you and thought, Wow. Now that’s someone I want to be with.
You push yourself off the carpeted stairs, deciding to find Reuben or even Nat and Javy. The cup in your hand is empty anyways. Might as well get a refill while you’re at it. You can barely move through the sea of people that are packed into such a small space. People were grinding against each other left and right, making you want to hurl. You push your way through the kitchen, finally making it to the open patio where beer pong tournaments and sloppy make outs occurred. The cold, night air feels nice against your hot and sweaty skin. You close your eyes, leaning up against the wall and drown out the music and laughter around you. Peace. You just needed a moment of peace.
You’re too caught up in your own little bubble to notice the presence that saunters up beside you.
“What’s a pretty thing like you doing out here all alone?”
The voice startles you from your moment and your eyes snap open. A hand reaches up to your racing heart and you turn to meet the source of your sudden adrenaline rush. The man beside you is familiar, you’ve seen him once or twice on campus and at other Fraternity events the boys had invited you to. Not to mention, incredibly good looking as well.
He holds a hand up, almost like he was trying to calm a rattled horse and sheepishly smiles. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”
You swallow, sharply exhaling and squeezing your plastic up in your hand to ground yourself. “It’s alright.” You avoid his gaze and nervously pick at the chapped skin of your lower lip.
“Billy Avalone,” he introduces himself with a confident grin. “I think I’ve seen you ‘round with Seresin and Bradshaw.”
You finally look up to meet his gaze and offer him a dry smile. You offer him an introduction of your own. “Nice to meet you.”
Billy ever so smoothly scoops up your free hand in his and places a soft kiss to the upside of your hand. Your cheeks heat up at his delicate touch and your knees almost buckle at the glimmer in his eyes. “Trust me, the pleasure is all mine.”
His manners make you chortle and you snort, pulling away from him to hide behind your smirk behind your palm.
Rather than drawing away from you, he finds himself intrigued and raises a brow at your amusement. “What?”
“Nothing, nothing,” you say in between laughter. You grasp your cup with both hands before looking at him with a much more genuine smile on your face. “It’s just… You are not what I expected from a Delta Chi.”
He nods knowingly, remembering your association with Jake and Bradley. “What can I say? I’m full of surprises.”
There was that ego you were looking for. But it doesn’t deter you like it normally would, in fact you find yourself leaning into him. “Oh yeah? Like what?” You shut your mouth immediately after that, quite surprised by your sudden burst of confidence.
Billy leans into you just as much, letting his hand brush against your forearm. It sends a shiver down your spine and goosebumps arise on your bare skin. “Nice try, but that’s to be revealed only if you agree to go on a date with me.”
There was no malice in his tone, no laughing idiots around to signify that anything about this was a joke. The look in Billy’s eyes was full of genuine hope and for the first time that night, you find yourself forgetting all about Jake Seresin and immerse yourself in the idea of Billy Avalone. He was charming and attractive. Lean, but broad enough for you to tell that underneath the jacket he wore was all muscle. You found it hard to believe that Billy had any interest in you and yet, here he was, asking you out on a date. Any other day, you would’ve taken a hard pass.You would’ve told him to move along and put his energy into another person who would consider saying yes. But then you think of Nat and Javy and just how utterly lonely you feel, deciding that Billy was worth the chance and the risk.
You open your mouth to respond, but stiffen at the feeling of warmth that encapsulates your back. You don’t need to turn to know exactly who it is. The familiar scent of laundry detergent and cinnamon washes over you and you resist the urge to fall into him.
“Billy,” Jake greets, his voice dropping an octave as he leans in closer to you. His chest just barely brushes against your back sending a new wave of warmth to your neck and cheeks.
“Hey, Jake.” Billy’s gaze flicks to Jake’s before he focuses his attention back on you, still eagerly waiting for your response.
Your breath hitches in your throat at the feeling of Jake’s hand on your lower back and you turn to look at him with furrowed brows. His usually well kept hair was stuffed under his backwards baseball cap and despite the chill of the night air he was in nothing but a t-shirt and jeans.
The air between the three of you is heavy as Billy tries to dismiss Jake’s presence. “So, what do you say about that date?” He smiles at you sweetly, rocking back and forth on his heels.
Before you can utter a response Jake steps in front of you and blocks you completely from Billy’s view. “Let’s get out of here, Ace.”
You can’t believe what you’re hearing. You scoff, balling your hand up in a fist to resist the urge to slap the back of Jake’s perfect head. “Excuse me? Seresin, will you knock it off?”
He ignores you, taking a step closer to Billy. Jake straightens his spine. “She’s off limits. Got it, Avalone?”
“Well, shit, Jake. If that’s your girl, why didn’t you just say so?” Billy gives you an apologetic look from over Jake’s shoulder.
Jake huffs, almost like an angry bull. “Off. Limits.”
You frown, adamantly shaking your head. “Wait, Billy. I am not his girl.”
“No, it’s alright. I’m sorry I even asked. I’ll see you around, I guess.” He knew better than to pick a fight with Jake Seresin. His defeated gaze darts to the floor before he makes his way back into the house.
Your chest is heaving as you watch Billy walk away. You don’t know whether you want to cry or scream more. You decide on the latter, not deeming Jake worthy of your tears.
Jake turns to face you, still smiling proudly to himself. His face slightly falls when he meets your eye. He knows well enough that you were not happy. “Ace?”
You push at his shoulders. “What the fuck, Hangman?”
He holds his hands up in surrender. “Hang on–”
The palm of your hands make contact with his broad shoulders once more. “Are you kidding me?” You shove him again but Jake’s hardened features don’t falter. “Who gave you the right? Someone was finally interested in me and you just had to drive them away. Your ego really couldn’t handle the fact that I was getting attention. Is that it?”
“Ace, wait.” He tries to reach for you but you slap his hand away.
“No, fuck you, Seresin. You can’t…” Your resolve breaks and the tears that sat on your lash line spill over. “You can’t just ignore me for a week only to talk to me after chasing away the one chance of a boyfriend I’ve got. That’s not fair.”
“You don’t understand. Billy isn’t good enough for you.”
“Yeah?” You look at him with tear stained cheeks. “Then humor me. Who is?”
Jake’s words get caught in his throat as he watches you wipe your tears away with the palm of your hand. He wanted to take your face in his hands and brush those tears away. But he knew you wouldn’t let him.
“That’s what I thought.” You brush past him, knocking his shoulder with your own. “I’m not like the other girls you mess around with. I know that. But that doesn’t mean I don’t deserve to feel wanted too.”
He calls after you, realizing just how horribly he screwed up. But you continue on back inside, probably trying to find Nat or Reuben to take you home. He knew that you weren’t like the other girls. You were different, you were better. You were everything he wanted and more. From the moment he met you, he was hooked. It scared him at first. You were the complete opposite from the girls he usually set his sights on. You were hard headed, independent, unafraid to call him out on his bullshit. You challenged him and he liked that. You weren’t shallow like everyone else and you made him feel seen.
He never thought a group project would lead him to you. You iced him out at first, and admittedly he knew he deserved that. Then he got to know you and he realized he never wanted to stop. Jake wanted to be the one on the receiving end of your jokes and the affection you gave to those close to you. He dropped his asshole attitude and made the effort to get you to see the real Jake Seresin. And it worked. He was doing so well to finally get you to let your guard down around him. Yet all that work, all that progress, went down the drain because he couldn’t keep his emotions in check.
By the time Jake caught up to you, you were dragging Natasha out the door with Javy on your tails. His heart dropped to his stomach and he wished he could turn back time to one week ago. Before he hurt you and made you cry.
_______
Your goal was to forget Jake Seresin ever existed. You threw yourself into your work, locking yourself in your room and spending more time in the library than your own apartment. Now that Nat was officially with Javy, the boys were around more often and you just weren’t ready to face him yet. It wasn’t fair to everyone else, you knew that. But it was easier for you to push them away. You turned back into that academic machine you were before Bradley and Jake forced you out of your shell. You didn’t party, didn’t go out, didn’t join the gang for movie night. Your new friends were your coursework. And when that ran out, you turned to your favorite show reruns for comfort.
You ignore the series of knocks on your door for the third time tonight. Natasha sighs in defeat, turning back to the group with a shake of her head. “I told you. She’s not coming.”
Reuben frowns. “Did you tell her Jake wasn’t coming with us?”
Everyone was aware of your complicated relationship with Jake. The small dance the two of you did was obvious to everyone but yourselves. It was only recently that Jake finally admitted why you’ve been hiding yourself away. If it weren’t for Javy holding her back, Natasha would’ve tore Jake to shreds.
“I did.” Natasha knew you and she knew you were embarrassed for lashing out at Jake the way you did. Hiding was the safest way to avoid facing yet another humiliating confrontation about your behavior.
You’ve never spoken to Nat directly about your insecurities, but she saw them in the little things you did. Not bothering to wear extravagant makeup or clothing, putting up a hard front, and pretending not to care. Deep down she knew you cared about how you were perceived. You did care whether or not people found you desirable. You wanted the cliche, movie romance. You wanted someone to sweep you off your feet, just like Westley in The Princess Bride.
Never, have you let those insecurities break your spirit. Until now. She has never seen you so small. She didn’t understand how Jake Seresin managed to knock you down with just one hit.
But it has been nearly two weeks since the party and Natasha was done with your groveling and self pity. You were going to get out of your room and you were going to have fun.
“Just give her a second,” Reuben whispers, having just a little bit of faith left in you.
It was as if you felt the little piece of hope Reuben had left for you because suddenly, the door of your room swings open and a breath of relief leaves both of your friends. You had decided to come out and join them after all. Nat had told you it was just a casual hangout amongst your friends, bar Bradley and Jake. You settled on changing into an oversized Naval Academy sweatshirt you had thrifted and an old pair of faded jeans.
Nat hadn’t seen you in anything other than pajama tees and sweatpants so to her, this was a big win.
Reuben smiles widely at your appearance before coming up to you and gathering you into his arms. “There you are.” His words and affection pulls an unexpected giggle out of you, soothing Reuben and Nat’s nerves. “How’ve you been, Ace?”
You shrug, shifting in his hold as he keeps an arm around you. “I could be better. But I guess I could be worse too.”
Natasha hooks your arm with hers, taking you from Reuben’s grasp. “You ready to go? Javy is waiting in the car with Bob and Mickey. I was thinking we could go to The Hard Deck using your car. You know, like old times.”
That brings a ghost of a smile to your face. The Hard Deck was a place of refuge for you and your group of friends, despite it being a Navy bar. You and Mickey found it by accident, stopping over at the nearest institution because he had to use the bathroom really badly on a drive back to campus. The bartender, Penny Benjamin, was sweet and treated you all like her own children. You haven’t seen her in awhile and just knew a visit to your spot was long overdue. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
The drive to the bar brings a bit of your old spark back. Natasha had the windows rolled down while the two of you belted out your favorite songs at the top of your lungs. She filled you in on all the things you missed from the past couple of weeks, strategically leaving out any anecdotes involving Jake. Though, Nat hasn’t seen him much since the party. It seemed as if he was taken over by the spirit of an old Delta Chi member. He was slumming it with the sorority girls and stayed out late partying with the other guys of his Frat. Bradley had tried to snap him out of it, but he reverted to his old ways. Back to before they met you.
Upon arriving at The Hard Deck you exchange a round of pleasantries with the rest of your friends who were glad to see you finally out of, as Mickey had called it, your “Bat Cave.” You volunteered to grab some drinks for the rest of the party while they settled in your usual booth in the back.
You returned to the table with beers for the guys, a club soda for Bob, a Mai Tai for Nat, and a lemonade for yourself. The night was spent full of laughter and warmth as you found yourself slipping back into your natural groove of things. Soon, your once dampened mood started to dissipate.
“I’m telling you, there’s something going on with Professor Mitchell and Penny,” Mickey slurs.
The group erupts into chaos then, one talking over the other and you can’t help but laugh as you lean into Mickey’s side. You missed this. You were so hard headed that in the process of blocking one person out, you put it upon everyone else. But you were here now and he wasn’t. That’s all that mattered to you.
Reuben is the one to calm the group down. “Alright, alright. You’re saying, P. Mitchell and Penny are… romantically involved. Where the hell did you get that idea?”
“DnD club meets here on Tuesdays and coincidentally so does Professor Mitchell,” he shrugs.
“Did you say DnD club?” Javy’s wheezing between breaths and Natasha has to slap him on the chest to get him to stop.
Mickey rolls his eyes. “I have a life outside of you guys, you know.”
“Yeah, but DnD club?”
“What’s wrong with DnD?” Bob chimes in, slightly offended.
Nat slaps him again. “Javy!”
“Right, sorry. Please, continue.”
“Actually, I don’t think I want to,” Mickey narrows his eyes at the man.
“Mick, he was joking. Please finish what you were saying.” You tap him affectionately on the shoulder with a gentle smile.
He attempts to continue his story when a smack to the tabletop catches all of you off guard. You tear your gaze from Mickey to be met with Bradley Bradshaw clad in one of his signature Hawaiian shirts as he leans against the table.
You give him a pained smile, knowing that where Bradley went, Jake wasn’t far behind.
“Good to see ya, Ace,” Bradley nods.
“You too, Brad,” you tell him softly. And you meant it.
The group falls uncharacteristically quiet and you feel Natasha give your knee tight squeeze.
“Didn’t know the gang was getting back together.” The familiar snark of the one person you didn’t want to see rings through your ears. Jake Seresin struts over with that stupidly cocky grin of his and unsurprisingly, another sorority girl on his arm.
No longer caring for pleasantries with the man, you roll your eyes. You hate to admit that it stung to see him with yet another woman. A small part of you hoped that maybe he’d show up empty handed and acknowledge your presence. That didn’t happen and it felt like a knife to the chest. What did you expect? Of course, nothing has changed since the last time you saw him. While you were feeling worse than ever about yourself, Jake had absolutely zero cares in the world. He only cared about himself, he always would.
Javy was the only one who had the stomach to greet him with a simple, “Hey.”
He chuckles, almost mockingly, as the girl on his arm tries to gain his attention and pull him to the bar. “Why weren’t we invited to the party?”
“Because no one wants you here, Bagman,” Natasha spits.
Jake brings a hand to his chest, acting hurt at her insinuation. “You wound me, Natasha.”
She gives him the finger in response.
“Now does everyone not want me here? Or is there a certain someone who doesn’t want me here?” He raises a brow and his bright green eyes land on you.
You avoid his gaze and you hear Bradley hiss Jake’s name.
“What? I’m just saying. It’s pretty obvious someone didn’t want me here and we all know who.” Jake doesn’t care that the girl who had been hanging off of him moments ago found someone else to play with, abandoning her post to flirt with another guy over at the pool tables. He had your attention and to him that was enough.
You feel a familiar sting behind your eyes, knowing damn well he was just toying with you at this point.
“Stop.” This time it’s Javy who speaks up, surprising Jake. “If you only came over here to be a dick then I suggest you leave.”
The light mood from earlier has completely died and you know that once he leaves, nothing can bring it back.
“Ace.”
He calls you out directly this time and you can’t hold it in any longer. All the hurt and anger he caused bubbles up to the surface. Part of you wants to talk to him, clear the air up a bit and give him a chance to apologize. The other part of you, the more rational part, decides to ignore him entirely.
You quietly ask Natasha if you could pass and her and Javy get up to stand to the side to let you through. You purposely angle your body so your back is towards Jake, announcing that you were going to get another drink before heading in the direction of the bar.
Jake moves to follow you, only to be stopped by his best friend.
Javy grabs his wrist with a disapproving frown. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Let go, Javy,” he absent mindedly demands. His eyes never leave your figure as you make your way through the crowd.
“No. You’re being an asshole, man. What happened to the guy who was repeatedly texting me to make sure she was okay? I told you where we were because I thought you were going to apologize. Not do… whatever that was.” Disappointment shines in Javy’s deep brown eyes.
Bradley slides into the space where you once were, watching what was about to unfold with the rest of them.
“Wait a minute, you told him we were going here? Javy!” Natasha looks at her boyfriend in disbelief.
“I’m sorry! This idiot told me he wanted to make it up to her.” He gestures blindly to Jake who was running a hand through his already disheveled hair.
Natasha snorts. “Unbelievable,” she swears under her breath.
“Nat–” Jake starts, but she cuts him off in an instant.
“No. You stay away from her, got it? She’s had enough of your games, Seresin, and quite frankly so have I.”
“I messed up. I know I did. But please, please just give me a chance to explain.”
He takes Natasha’s silence as an unspoken truce. “I care about her. So much that it scares the shit out of me. I was gonna tell her, you know. Then I saw her with Bob and I realized that she could do so much better than me. So I did what I do best. I pushed her away.”
Bob flushes red at the mention of his name.
“What is there to say about myself other than that I’m your typical, college fuckboy? The thing is, I was fine with that reputation. I was good at doing things on my own. Then I met Ace and I realized she’s my antidote. That girl gave me tunnel vision. Suddenly, I’m looking at my future and I want to do more with my life than be known as a college heartbreaker. The one thing I know to be true is that I want to be better with her by my side.”
“Why should I believe you after the way you treated her?” Natasha’s gaze narrows, still not fully convinced.
He swallows harshly. “You have every right not to. I wouldn’t believe me either. But you’ve got to understand that I never realized just how much she really meant to me until I almost lost her.” There’s a look of defeat that crosses his features, and his head falls to his chest.
Nat’s hardened stare falters ever so slightly. “To Billy. But wait, I don’t understand. What about that girl you came in here with?”
“Oh, she’s here for free booze. I needed to get Ace’s attention somehow.”
She rolls her eyes. “You’re an idiot.”
Jake nods, regret shining in his eyes. “I know. Listen, I’m not good at relationships.”
“Trust me, we know,” Bradley mutters under his breath.
Jake shoots him a quick glare before continuing. “I don’t know how to do them. For Ace, I’ll learn. I would do anything for her. Look, I know I’ve made mistakes and I need to fix them before it’s too late.”
Natasha was conflicted. She looks at Javy who meets her gaze with a soft smile. Then to Reuben and Bradley. Finally, her eyes land once more on Jake. She found herself in the same dilemma she was in before she started dating Javy. Their reputation precedes them. You were the one to warn her of Delta Chi’s womanizer ways. Yet she still gave Javy a chance and it was the best decision she ever made. She knew deep down that these guys had good hearts. No matter how much she wanted to deny it, she knew Jake did too. He was kinder with you, softer. You always brushed him off but Nat saw the way he affected you. He made you happy and you deserved to be. If she could give Javy that chance, shouldn’t she extend it to Jake too?
She groans with her head in her hands. “Fine. Fine.”
Jake’s eyes light up, clearly expecting another rejection. “Really?”
“Yes. But I swear if you hurt her again, if you break her heart, I won’t hesitate to kill you.”
His stomach churns at the thought, knowing full well that she meant it. “Yes, ma’am,” he salutes.
“Now go get her before it’s too late.” In other words, Natasha had finally given him her blessing.
Jake’s dejected state is replaced with one of determination. He mouths an appreciative thank you, before setting his sights on you.
“Forget DnD club, I need to hang out with you guys more often because that was better than a Netflix drama,” Mickey babbles, making Bob smack him lightly on the back of his head.
With her arms crossed, Natasha stares out the window wistfully. “I just hope he can make things right.”
Wrapping his arms around Nat, Javy gives her a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry, he’s got this.”
_________
“Hey Pen, can you just tell Natasha to ride home with the boys? I think I’m going to head out.” You place a wad of cash on the bar top, signaling for her to close your tab.
The woman frowns, noticing the bothersome frown on your face. “You sure, sweetheart?”
Downing the last of your lemonade, you nod. “Thank you, for the advice and everything.”
“Of course. Hey, don’t be too hard on yourself, okay?”
A tight smile pulls at your lips in farewell. You push your way through the rowdy crowd, breathing deeply once you make it outside.
You curse under your breath. You didn’t know it was supposed to rain tonight. You eye your car in the distance, deciding whether to make the trek or go back inside until it stops. The sound of the door opening behind you catches your attention and your heart leaps out of your chest.
“Ace,” Jake Seresin calls out, desperately trying to reach you.
You throw all caution to the wind and run out into the pouring rain, too exhausted to deal with him right now.
His shoes squeak and splash through the puddles on the asphalt. Not caring that he was soaked to the bone, he runs after you. Jake calls out for you again but you continue on. For once, he doesn’t find himself admiring your stubborn attitude.
You throw a quick glance behind you, hoping to see that you’ve lost him, but Jake’s strides are longer than yours and he has closed more of the distance between you two than you thought. A shiver racks your form and your clothes are sticking uncomfortably to your skin. You find yourself regretting your decision but there’s no way you can take it back now. You shove your hand into your pocket, frantically pulling out your car keys once you make it to your car.
Jake sees you shiver as you try to unlock your car. You just barely get the driver’s side to open when he comes up behind you and presses the door shut. Your back is to his front and he pleads for you to turn around.
You hear him before you see him. You don’t want to turn around. You can’t. You know the second you look into his opalescent green eyes, your resolve will shatter. “Get off, Jake,” you demand impatiently.
“Please look at me, please.” The desperation of his voice startles you. Never, have you heard Jake Seresin say the word ‘please,’ and never have you heard him beg.
You’re shaking as you wrap your arms around yourself for warmth. You bite into your bottom lip to stop it from trembling. From the rain or from the tears that have started streaming down your cheeks, you are unsure.
“Ace,” he breathes.
His breath is hot against the skin of your neck soothing you from the cold. But still, you don’t budge.
Jake finds himself getting frustrated and he runs his hand through his damp hair, moving it away from his eyes. He can barely see your reflection in your car window, his vision blurred from the raindrops that cloud his vision. But the pale moonlight and dim streetlamp shows him enough to see that you feel just as hurt as he does, if not more. “Fine. You don’t have to look at me. I just need you to listen.”
You say nothing.
He exhales through his mouth as he recalls what he wants to say. “Remember when we first met and you asked me if I actually had a brain or if I just thought with my dick? That was the moment I knew you were unlike anyone else I’ve ever met. Usually, I’d have girls swooning over me left and right, but not you. You weren’t fazed by me in the slightest and that intrigued me. Everything about you intrigues me. Which is why I was so eager to get more out of you. I poked fun. I made jokes. I made sure that your attention was almost always on me because when it was, it gave me the best view of each and every thing you had to offer. Like the way you bite your bottom lip when you’re trying not to cry.”
Your breath hitches in your throat from his words, heart going faster than that goddamn roadrunner.
“Come on, Ace.”
How could you deny him when he spoke with so much conviction? You spin on your heel to face him. He’s soaked, just as you are, and yet you think he has never looked so beautiful. As you look at him, the ache in your chest doesn’t subside and you sniffle from the cold. “What do you want, Seresin?”
“I’m sorry,” he chokes out.
You look away from him. “I don’t need your pity.”
“Hey, I’m serious. I know I hurt you and I will never forgive myself for it.”
There’s a sincerity in his tone that throws you off. “Then why? If you feel so bad about it, why did you do it?”
“Because… Because I…” He’s nervous. Of all the times he has ever spoken to you, this is the one time he has felt this way.
Your patience is wearing thin so you shake your head and run a hand down your face. You were so tired of him holding out on you. “You know what? All I ever wanted was for you to look at me the same way you look at those other girls. Why wasn’t I good enough for you?” Once the floodgates opened, it was hard to get them locked up again.
You might as well have ripped his heart out of his chest instead of saying that. The effect it had on him would’ve been all the same. “Oh, baby,” he cups your face gently between his calloused hands and strokes his thumbs across the apples of your cheeks. The rain made it hard for him to tell which marks were tears and which were rainwater, but he treated them all the same. “Those girls have nothing on my Ace. You are more than enough. You are everything and I was too blind to see it until now.”
“What?” You whimper.
God, does he want to kiss that pout right off your face. “I don’t look at you the way I look at everyone else because I don’t want them the way I want you.”
“And how is that, Jake?”
That alone gives him a glimmer of hope. His heart skips a beat and his stomach erupts in butterflies.“You called me Jake,” he grins. “You never call me Jake.”
You scoff, not realizing the name slipped. “Answer the question.”
“I want every part of you. I want late nights and study sessions. I want to be the first one you call and the last one you text goodnight. The good, the bad, all of it. As long as it’s you.”
The honesty in his gaze makes you want to believe him. Because that’s all you ever wanted from him. So bad. But he has hurt you one too many times. You don’t think you’d be able to take it if he did one more time. “How do I know you won’t hurt me again?”
Jake takes the leap, resting his forehead on yours. When you don’t pull away, he confesses, “You don’t. But I will spend every day proving to you that I’m never going to make that mistake again.” He brushes some of your damp hair away from your face and admires how ethereal you look in this light. “One date, Ace. Let me make it up to you.”
You relish in his warmth, the aching hurt in your chest finally subsiding. The raging storm in your heart is finally calm. “One date. That’s all you’re getting.”
The smile that spreads across his face is the brightest you’ve ever seen. He no longer feels lost now that he has you. “That’s all I need, darling.”
For once, you believe him.
add yourself to my taglist!
tgm taglist (does not include ‘seasons’ tags): @joaquinwhorres @harrycherrylove @smoothdogsgirl
a/n: this was supposed to be short, yet here we are. i hope you enjoy frat!jake as much as i do <3 as usual, huge thanks to @briseisgone love u hun.
#jake hangman seresin#jake seresin x reader#hangman x reader#jake seresin x f!reader#jake seresin x you#jake seresin x y/n#hangman x you#hangman x y/n#hangman x f!reader#jake seresin oneshot#hangman oneshot#frat!jake seresin x reader#college!au#demxters writing
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Clone commandos request if possible. 😁 Could you do delta squad. where on a mission they get captured along with the Padawan, and get protective when they try to separate them or interrogate them.
So i thought about writing a fic based on todays bad batch episode (but I need to get some of the requests done- if you wanna request some Wolffe *wink wink* that’s ok)
“Got your back”
Summary: a mission goes south with the delta squad but they have your back
Paring: The delta Squad/ republic commandos x padawan!reader (PLATONIC OFC)
Warning: slight mentions of injury and imprisonment nothing too bad… the most scary- not proofread
Word count: 1688
Notes: Delta Squad fics are not my “most popular” but ones I always do so much for and I don’t know why
Also I swear to god someone asked to join the Taglist but I can’t remember nor find it so let me know!
"Can you focus for one second Scorch? EVER?" Fixed screamed through the comms, you could see his tense movements from a mile away as the squad ducked once again behind a wall.
Boss could only nod this head, he quickly spun around from where you, Sev and him were hiding to shoot an incoming droid.
"Sorry Scorch I can't defend you this time it's not looking good." You spoke between gasp of your own breath, the adrenaline from the long hours fighting wearing on you and the whole group.
Sev leaned heavily on Fixer from where you could see him, though Scorch as of now was doing a good job covering them.
"Boss," You yelled over the hiss of a smoke bomb going off- the contents of which were going in your eyes and making you cough. "I'm all out of ideas here."
The comando spared you a glance for a second, you feared what his face would have looked like if his helmet was discarded.
Boss looked down at the padawan for a moment. A thin cut ran along their cheek way too close to their eye for Boss’s comfort. He watched their head whip around looking through the fog desperately before a huge bang went off.
After a moment of slight ringing Boss felt the bump of another person against his side. The padawan looked around frantically for the force of the bomb before looking up to the comando.
In a more solemn voice they asked. “Boss what are we gonna do?”
Boss thought about their options then. Backed into the corner of what should have been an abandoned outpost, on of their men injured and the rest ready to collapse from exhaustion. He as a leader thought he was better than this but Boss felt as if he walked his squad right into this trap.
“The missions easy enough for us.” Boss had said only hours before. A knot sat in his stomach but the team needed an easy mission, a break from their last fiasco with the bugs.
He’s never been more wrong in his life.
While he was lost in thought, Boss nearly missed Scorch sliding up next to their leader, his panicked voice tried to fill Boss’s ears.
For a moment the other comando didn’t realize the trooper in yellow was talking until Scorch made a shhh gesture with his hand.
That’s when you noticed it too, the complete lack of noise. No more clanker chatter or blaster bullets from each side. Just the low hiss of the fog that didn’t seem to die down.
You opened your mouth to say something before the unmistakable scraping of metals filled your ears.
“Rollies! get down!” Scorch shouted pulling you and Boss to the floor with him. About 5 Droidekas emerged from the smoke…. Lucky you guys.
“Scorch handle them.” Boss yelled using his hands to signal something at Fixer and Sev at the speed of light. His gruff tone scratched your ears but you all seemed pretty fed up at the situation.
Blaster bullets were blocked by your lightsaber left and right until the next words made your heart drop all together. “Out of hand grenades sir.” Scorch ripped his blaster out now but the shields were too strong on the droids.
“Down the hall!” Fixer yelled as both He and Sev passed the 3 of you, a way out hopefully planned.
You felt them before you saw them, you tried skidding to a stop before turning into the next hall as a hand shot out to grab Boss.
“Shit.” Was the only thing you could say, before they could question what you meant a group of comando droids emerged with guns drawn.
“You’ve got to be joking me.” Sev rasped out, his arm shook while he tried to lift his blaster up and fire. The tiredness leaked off of him though you were sure it did for everyone.
A ring of blue light hit the wall behind you. It didn’t make sense though, comando droids weren’t the type to show mercy.
Your lightsaber flashed along the darkened walls trying to keep the nimble droids away, why couldn’t the separatists just send the normal clankers.
Once again the hall was engulfed in a think smoke. You heard more blasters going off but you feared you were getting more and more disoriented. After a moment you heard a sickening thunk next to you and you assumed the worst.
In the blink of an eye you felt the blast hit its mark and half your body go limp. Unlike the bulking clones you were with it only took about 2 hits before you were out.
•✩•
Boss was the first one to awaken. His head bobbed around and his eyes fluttered open. Boss reached his hand up only to finally realize that his armor was gone.
He laid there for a moment, confusion laced his face. What had happened to him? To them….
In a split second Boss shot up to a sitting position , which his head greatly protested, and looked for the rest of his squad.
Relief was one of the best things in the galaxy in this moment. In the dim light of the ray shield keeping them in Boss could count the 3 other comandos and the form of their padawan knocked out next to Scorch.
Sev still looked bad as now Boss could get the full view of his gash along his side- the blacks on all of the men seemed to be tattered.
Boss observed their surroundings for a moment before giving a light tap to Fixer on the foot. When that didn’t work the first time a much hard kick was implemented.
Fixer gasped awake along with Scorch after a “friendly” tap from the clone comando.
I didn’t take Scorch long before he leaned back against the wall and groaned, clearly he knew the situation at hand.
Boss could only stare for another second at Sev, guilt rummaged through his insides as he helped his injured brother up ultimately waking him as well. This was his fault and Boss couldn’t shake that.
“Fixer start working on those bindings.” Boss ordered unable to keep his gaze on the unconscious padawan. Clearly to the eyes of their captors the Jedi was the bigger threat.
Sev hissed for a moment now finding a new brother to lean on.
You came to with the feeling of someone’s exposed hands brushing against your arms. The pounding in your head was present but the blanket of confusion was much scarier.
“Thanks for joinin’ us.” The unmistakable voice of scorch chimed in. Your eyes strained against the darkness but you could tell what the problem was.
The cool metal hurt your wrists as Fixer fiddled with them muttering a small apology every once in a while.
Boss’ low voice filled the cell, plans of just how they would get out to fight another day. Your eyes scanned the worrisome group.
Scorch sat fidgeting with his hands trying desperately to listen but you could see the worry in his eyes as clear as day.
Fixer sat in front of you cursing and apologizing but he just couldn’t seem to do anything useful without his tools and data pad.
Sev’s eyes closed everyone once in a while and you could see the fight to remain in the moment, though his scowl never seemed to be wiped off.
And finally Boss. His voice was level and low just like the countless other times you heard him give directions, however this time was different. He knew this wasn’t in their favor and he was worried beyond belief.
Someone had to stay strong for them all.
Your heartbeat beat out of your chest, a dull throb started in your temples the feeling seemed vaguely familiar.
“I think someone’s coming.” For the first time you were unsure in the force. Fixer faltered for a moment before meeting your eyes. “It’s probably these. Messing with you.” He shook the bindings.
Though to your surprise, and relief in a way, someone did make their way down the hall. Boss spoke out quickly as you averted your gaze, sweat started to form on your brow.
“We need a medic.” It was hard to call it pleading despite where Boss said it from his position on the floor, but it was definitely more of a demand.
2 masked figures approached though they seemed to ignore Boss all together.
“We need the Jedi.” The cool voice stated only once.
Everyone seemed to freeze for a moment unsure about which group would make the first move.
“Get up.” Was demanded at you and you glanced around meeting Boss’ eyes for only a moment before you gripped onto the sleeve of Fixer.
The ray shield was down now and the larger figure stepped in. “I’m not asking again”
“Like kriff they’re going with you.” Scorch stood in front of you now. His full height filled up their line of sight.
“Move clone.” For a second Scorch was pushed back that was until Boss stood as well and shoved their captor away from his brother.
Before the other could react with their blaster Scorch was all over them. Fixer taking the hint that their time was now scrambled to get their other brother still on the floor.
Your eyes were blown wide with the loud alarm that was set off. You felt someone grab your arm as you were still in a little daze.
“I hope you didn’t think we were really gonna let them take ya.” Scorch said as the group rushed down the halls.
You thought about that for a moment, had there truly been something to worry about while you were surrounded but the Delta Squad, your brothers?
A smile broke out of your face and Scorch seemed to get your reply.
“I hope you know.” Scorch called over his shoulder. “You’re never picking the missions by yourself again Boss.”
An angry yell was heard from somewhere behind you replacing the fear in your body with a laugh. “You were the one to pick the bug mission Scorch!”
______________________________
Taglist:
@arctrooper69 @thereforepizza @padawancat97 @pb-jellybeans @floffytofu @verybadatwriting @solstraalaa @ray-rook @gregorsmissingarmor
#star wars#star wars clone wars#the clone wars#clone wars#the clone boys#my writing#toska-writes#clone boys#the delta squad#delta squad x reader#delta squad#republic commando#clone commando boss#clone commando fixer#clone commando sev#clone commando scorch#x platonic!reader#padawan reader#reader insert
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can I request acacia and purple lilac with fixer? maybe some fluff with a jedi reader who thinks someone so brisk and no-nonsense as fixer could never want a naive jedi who's so unsure of herself, but she doesn't realize the rest of delta squad can see how obvious her "secret" affection is, and are all rooting for her? hope that's not to o much detail. :^) have fun!!!
On Your Order
Summary: You've been in love with Fixer for a while, but think he doesn't feel the same.
Pairing: Clone Commando Fixer x F!JediReader
Prompt: Acacia - Secret love, Purple Lilac - First Love
Word Count: 1565
Warnings: None
Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly
A/N: So, full disclosure, I woke up with awful vertigo this morning, so I'm surprised I was able to write anything at all. Sadly, I no longer have vertigo medicine. Anyway, I hope this is close to what you wanted!
You’ve never been in love before.
At least, if you have, it’s never felt like this before.
It’s never felt so real.
You rest your chin on your folded arms as you watch the men from Delta walk around the ship, preparing for the upcoming mission. Your gaze jumps from Scorch, who’s checking his weapons, and then over to Sev, who’s polishing his armor, and then finally your gaze lands on Fixer, who is reading over the mission brief again.
You love Fixer.
You do.
He’s so serious and stern and no-nonsense. And he follows all of the rules to the letter.
And you love him anyway.
It’s embarrassing.
It’s pathetic.
Even if Fixer didn’t follow all of the rules all of the time, he still wouldn’t be interested in you. You know this. You’re too jedi. Too naive. Too self-conscious.
A hand lands between your shoulder blades, and Boss leans over you, “You’re staring.”
“I’m thinking.” You reply.
“Hm, about Fixer?” Boss asks as he slides into the seat next to you.
You scowl at him, “Just in general,” You finally say as you turn to look at him, “We’ll be landing soon, I’m guessing.”
“Soonish.” He gazes at you thoughtfully, “You know we’re all on your side, right?”
“I’m sorry?”
“We,” He motions to himself, Scorch, and Sev, “Think that you’d be good for Fixer. So we’re rooting for you.”
You blink at him, twice, and then turn to bury your face in your arms, “Is it that obvious?”
“Yeah, just a bit.”
“Ugh…how humiliating.”
“It’s cute.”
“Please stop talking.” You say quietly, and then you lift your head when the ship makes a noise, announcing your arrival on the planet, “Ah. Time for work.”
“So it would seem.”
You get to your feet and walk over to the side door, pressing the button to slide the door open. And then you crouch near the exit, “That’s a lot of droids,”
“There’s no way we can land here.” Fixer says, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder, to offer you support.
“Yeah, but this is the only way in,” Scorch points out, “It’s not like there’s a back entrance.”
“We can make one.” Sev says, “Enough explosives-”
“Bad idea,” Boss interrupts, he turns his gaze towards you, “Suggestions.”
“Land the ship further back, you’ll just have to walk a little more.” You finally say as you stand and pull your saber into your hands.
“What about you?” Scorch asks with a small frown.
“I’m going out there.” You reply as you toss your outer robe over a chair, “I’ll clear some space for you all.”
“It’s too dangerous.” Fixer counters.
“More dangerous than leaving our vulnerable drop ship open to enemy fire?” You ask with a pointed look at Fixer, “I realize that you think I’m incompetent,” And wow, it hurts to finally say that outloud, “But I was assigned as your Jedi for a reason.”
Fixer blinks, “Wha-? I don’t think you’re incompetent-”
“Now is not the time,” Boss barks, “General, go. Be careful. We’ll catch up when we can.”
You nod at him, and flash a small smile, “Happy hunting, boys.” And then you jump out of the ship. You use the force so slow your descent and you light your sabers before you hit the ground.
You hear the ship fly off, and you settle yourself in the force.
It’s just you now. You and the force, and what seems like half a million droids.
Pity.
If they wanted to win they would have sent more droids.
Fixer grips his blaster tightly, anxiety and worry making him more tense than usual.
He can’t get her words out of his mind. “I realize you think I’m incompetent.” She said before jumping out of the ship to fight an army on her own.
She can’t possibly think that he thinks that, right?
And if she does, what does that say about how he’s been treating her?
He’s been nothing but respectful towards her. And he does respect her. He respects the hell out of her. And more.
Fixer isn’t the type of man to lie to himself, and he’s not going to start now.
He knows that his eyes drift to her during downtime. How he watches her hair sway when she walks. How he stands closer to her just so that he might be able to catch a hint of the citrusy scented shampoo she uses. How he sometimes hates Scorch for being able to make her laugh.
He’s enamored. He knows it. And he knows that his brothers know it.
And he also knows that she’s so far outside his reach that, even standing next to him, she might as well be in another system.
But she’s not standing next to him.
She’s kilometers away. Fighting a battle all on her own. With no support but what she can give herself with her blades.
And he hates it.
“You need to relax, vod.” Boss says as he leads his brothers through the undergrowth, “She’s going to be fine. She wouldn’t have offered if she wasn’t able to hold her own.”
Fixer bristles, “I don’t think she’s not able to hold her own.” He snaps, “I think she shouldn’t have to.”
“Oh my god,” Scorch finally blurts, “Vod. Fixer. The General-” He swears as Sev smacks him hard, “What the kriff!”
“That’s not for you to tell.” Sev says severely.
“Someone needs to say something!” Scorch hisses.
“Yeah. But not you.” Sev counters.
“Quiet.” Boss’ order cuts through the bickering like a knife, “Gunfire.”
The men lift their blasters and slowly continue forward, being careful to be as quiet as they can. They push through the brush, and into a clearing, where they see their General darting this way and that, her crystal blue lightsabers a blur with how quickly she’s moving.
The men of Delta immediately enter the fray, falling into the familiar strategy of using their General as bait to draw out the droids.
And as the last droid falls to a combination of Sev’s sniper and the General’s blade, she straightens and deactivates her blades. She turns to greet them with a small smile, there’s oil on her robes and several burns on her face, “Nice of you to join me.”
“What happened?” Fixer asks as he steps closer and fishes some bacta out of one of his pouches.
“Some of these droids are rigged to explode if someone uses a lightsaber against them,” She winces as he applies bacta to one of the burns, “They look the same as the other droids though.”
“So we should stick to using blasters for now,” Boss says thoughtfully, “Do you need a break?”
“I’m good to continue.”
“Good enough for me. What did you see?”
“It looks like there are two facilities.” The General replies with a frown, “Which is one more facility than we were expecting. One seems to be producing droids, while the other looks to be an information hub. We should hit both of them.”
“Agreed.” Boss says with a single nod. He falls silent for a moment, “Fixer, you and the General will hit up the information hub. We will deal with the droids.”
“You sure?” The General asks.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” Boss replies dryly, “Sev, Scorch. We’re heading in.”
And then Fixer is alone with the General.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” He asks.
“Just some burns,” She holds up a hand to show off the blisters, “But it’s fine.”
Fixer sighs and tugs his helmet off, “We have time to treat those, General.” He says as he takes her hand and carefully applies bacta to the burns.
“...sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m happy to help.” Fixer kind of hates that he’s wearing his gloves now, though, because he wants nothing more than to touch her. He’s quiet for a moment, “You know, I don’t think you’re incompetent, General.”
“You don’t?”
“No. I respect you and everything you do for us…and I just…” He trails off, “I wish you would be more careful.”
“If I have to get a scar to keep you and your brothers from getting hurt-”
“No.” Fixer interrupts, “I don’t want you getting hurt at all. I hate seeing you get hurt.”
“Oh.”
“I just…I…” He trails off, “Why did you have to be a jedi? All of the things I want to say to you aren’t allowed-”
She blinks at him, and Fixer averts his gaze as he grabs his helmet, “Fixer,” She stops him from putting his helmet on, “What do you mean?”
“I mean I’m in love with you, but you’re a Jedi and aren’t allowed to be in relationships.” Fixer says, “So…so all I can do is admire you and love you from afar.”
She’s quiet for a moment, “I think there’s been something of a cultural misunderstanding.” She finally says, “I’m not forbidden from loving or having relationships. Attachments are forbidden, but attachments aren’t love, Fixer.”
“...can you be more specific?”
“Yes, but not now.” She stands on her toes and kisses his cheek, and Fixer feels his heart doing backflips in his chest, “For now, just know that I love you too. And that I would like to see where this takes us.”
“Oh.” He sighs.
“And now we have a job to do.”
“I…yes General. On your order.”
#star wars#tcw#vodika-vibes follower celebration#clone commando fixer x reader#fixer x reader#star wars fanfiction#x reader fanfiction#f!reader fic#answered asks
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hang on I have to rant
if you're not already aware, the five-man band is a literary device used to classify teams of 5 characters. it's what I call an external trope, meaning that you fit the trope to the characters, they don't innately have it.
a:tla has a pretty solid one, and it's well known enough, so I'm gonna use it to show you what I mean
it is comprised of:
the Leader, who directs the group and is usually the main character (aang)
the Lancer, who serves as character foil to the Leader and is often a bad-guy-turned-good or rogue element (zuko)
the Big Guy, who solves physical problems for the team and is frequently a goofball (toph)
the Smart Guy, who solves technical/logistical problems for the team and typically serves as an "idea guy" (sokka)
and the Heart, who solves emotional problems for the team- if there's only one girl, she's probably the Heart (katara)
there are three star wars groups I want to look at: delta squad, domino squad, and clone force 99.
first is domino squad, as they fit this trope the easiest.
fives is the Leader, the most strategizing one in the group
droidbait is the Lancer, far less cautious and more prone to injury than the others (the foil to fives' effectiveness)
hevy is the Big Guy, serving the oh-so-common "big gun demolitions expert" variant
echo is the Smart Guy, in the "guys, come on, stick to the PLAN" variant
cutup is the Heart, lightening the mood with jokes (hence the name)
the first to die is droidbait, leaving echo to serve as fives' foil, which allows us to see that fives is probably the most prototypical clone of the bunch. then hevy sacrifices himself, and cutup gets eaten, leaving only fives and echo until the Citadel arc which I haven't yet seen.
then we have delta squad. the thing about delta squad is that there are four of them, and while the four-man band is a thing, they make this perfect incomplete five-man band that I think is really really tasty.
boss (player character) is the Leader, guiding the team
sev is the Lancer, playing the "snarky rogue" archetype
scorch is the Big Guy, again the "big gun demolitions" variant- but with the added flavor of being very by-the-book (which we see the consequences of when he aligns with not only the empire but doctor hemlock himself in tbb)
fixer is the Smart Guy, tech expert
notice anything?
there's no Heart.
and that works. these are clone commandos- meant to be the most effective troops the republic has. they almost never interact socially outside of their squad, and when they do it's kept pretty professional.
we see that again in clone force 99, or as they call themselves, the bad batch
hunter is the Leader, his enhanced senses leaving him the most generalist of the batch (and also he's technically their sergeant)
crosshair is the Lancer, a "silent, ruthless efficiency" type
wrecker is the Big Guy, "big gun demolitions" variant yet again (I told you it was common) in the goofball flavor
tech is the Smart Guy, btw he's really well done and it never feels like he just "knows because he's smart" you can always tell how he figures things out
again, there's no Heart. but wait.
in the Bad Batch arc in clone wars, they pick up another member- echo. we don't see much of echo's interaction with the batch in that arc, but when we come back, echo is solidly in a sort of almost-but-not-quite Heart role. and then.
omega shows up in the "sixth ranger" role, there to shake up the group dynamic. throughout season one, we see omega slowly take over echo's role as Heart- and as this happens, it becomes clear that that was the role he was playing, as he talks hunter through how to best take care of omega. but omega, tagalong kid as she is, is much, much more suited to the Heart role than echo, and she takes his place- which allows echo to run off and have his own adventures with rex throughout seasons two and three, WHICH WORKS because echo is a regular clone who joined the batch later in life and thus isn't quite the same as the others, but omega is a deviant clone just like them!
#tbb#nerdipost#original post#star wars#the bad batch#star wars the bad batch#sw#sw tbb#clone force 99#star wars the clone wars#domino squad#delta squad#tbb star wars#star wars republic commando#republic commando#swrc#swtbb#swtcw#sw the bad batch#sw tcw#the clone wars#literary analysis#5-man band
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What your favourite Clone Legion says about you!
A few common tropes that I’ve noticed in people, depending on which squad they love the most. Let me know if they’re accurate!
501st - An OG bitch. You're both thirsty, and hydrated. You probably have some form of trauma, and you cope using humour, not that that's a bad thing. The life of the party. Star Wars is probably in your top 10 interests of all time. You're not afraid to speak the truth, but you know when to hold your tongue. A good egg.
212th - Either you ship Codywan, or you're in love with either Waxer or Boil. You're a little bit old school, play by the book, but know when/where to have a laugh. Loved by many. Approachable. Laid back and easy to talk to. Your style is fun, bright, and sometimes excentric. Overall, a pleasant being.
104th - Daddy issues. Or issues of some kind. You need a hug, but only on your own terms. A big fan of the found family trope. Probably introverted, but you have a good sense of humour, and you're approachable. Funny, sarcastic, but also loving, kind, and loyal without a fault.
327th - On the sidelines. Do people seem to forget about you? That's okay. You have a small circle, a best friend or two, and you prefer that over a large crowd. It takes a while for your true colours to come out, but when they do, they shine like no other. Very hospitable. A hidden gem.
Coruscant Guards - Tired. Seriously, quit chugging coffee, and go and have a nap! You probably own a dog, or ten. You refuse to fit into social standards, and you're weird in some way. Coloured hair, perhaps? Always approachable, friendly, down to earth, but if anyone pushes your buttons, then they better run. Fast.
The Bad Batch - Horny. Tired. Deprived. You cling onto nostalgia. Hyperfixations are your main source of joy. You're loyal, like really fucking loyal, and stubborn at times. Nobody is changing your mind, not without solid reason. Found family enthusiast, but let's not make it cheesy. Could do with a nap.
Delta Squad - Fandom old™, but still keeping it real. The true OG. When you commit to something, you stick to it, even if it takes you years to complete due to procrastination. Down to earth. Fun and friendly, but not in a cheesy/faux way. A small and close-knit social circle. You know your shit, and you're proud to flex it.
#mywriting#the clone wars#star wars#the bad batch#delta squad#sw#tcw#tbb#republic commando#the wolfpack#501st#212th#clone force 99#clone legion#clone squad
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Shy Boys Go to Heaven
Summary: Fixer doesn't like how much Scorch cozied up to you. He intends to show you that you're his and only his.
Pairing: Delta Squad!Fixer x F Medic!Reader
Warnings: MINORS DNI 18+; SMUT, Possessive/Jealous!Fixer, P in V (unprotected; wrap it up friends), oral (f receiving), cum eating, Rough sex. (If I missed something, lemme know)
WC: 3.1K
A/N: Guys... I was like possessed while writing this. Lmao. I genuinely don't know where this sudden love for Fixer came from bc literally the man pissed me off yesterday while I was reading. But c'est la vie, right? Anyway... I think I'm gonna start writing more Rep Comm fics. I'm still working on the Ordo x Reader x Mereel one, don't worry!
Taglist Form
“Ma’am.” Scorch winks at you, as he and the other Deltas walk into the medbay.
“Well, hello boys.” You smile. “Long time no see.”
“Only a few weeks.” Scorch teases.
Sev and Boss both nod in greeting toward you, taking off their helmets, but once you see Fixer’s familiar green armor, your whole body goes warm just as it does anytime you see him. It was still a secret to everyone, including his own brothers, that you and Fixer would hook up anytime they’d come planetside. You weren’t exactly official or anything, but you enjoyed each other’s company. He wasn’t exactly chatty or anything, as he was a man of few words, so you did most of the talking.
Fixer nods, his helmet still on, but you know he’ll find you later, so you give him a flirtatious grin as you go to help Scorch and Sev stock up on their medical supplies.
“So, when are you gonna join the field?” Scorch teases, bumping you slightly. “We could always use a skilled medic.”
“Leave the poor woman alone, Scorch.” Boss rolls his eyes before walking over to Alai, your pretty coworker.
Fixer told you once that Alai and Boss hooked up a couple times, but never became anything serious. But he wasn’t supposed to know that, and Alai never told you, so the two of you weren’t the only ones with secrets.
“When are you gonna stop asking me?” You tease Scorch back.
“When you cave to my charm and good looks and say yes.” Scorch winks.
With a roll of your eyes, you turn to look at Fixer, finding him more rigid than usual. Why hasn’t he taken his helmet off?
You let Scorch and Sev do their thing as you walk over to Fixer, looking up into his visor. “You alright?”
He nods once, which is code for “Not really, but we’ll talk about it later.” and you know it’s a promise. With a soft sigh, you pat his hand and go sit at your desk, pulling up your end of day data reports.
“How long are you boys planetside?” You ask them.
“Til tomorrow. Why, you trying to join us for a night of fun?” Scorch flirts.
You shake your head with a laugh, but before you can say anything, Fixer tosses Scorch another crate, barely giving the other man time to catch it, and walks out.
“What’s his deal?” Scorch asks Sev, who just shrugs, taking the crate to stock it.
You know you can’t go after him. If you do, it’ll raise suspicion, which you know is the last thing that Fixer wants. So, you just hope that you’ll see him later.
Later that night, back at your apartment, you can’t stop thinking about Fixer. What if he doesn’t come tonight? What if the real reason he was so stiff and rigid is because he wants to end it with you? You’ve been doing a lot of thinking the last few months, and you’ve come to the realization that you want this thing with Fixer to be more permanent… But if he doesn’t… then, you’ll have to accept it and move on. No matter how much it hurts.
As you make a cup of tea, preparing for bed, you hear the front door open and you know immediately who it is. You don’t even have to look.
But, he’s the one who left so swiftly and suddenly earlier, so he can be the one to initiate the conversation tonight, which you know is something he’s not particularly fond of doing. You aren’t going to sleep with him until he talks, though. A conversation has to be had, no matter what conversation it is.
You hear heavy footsteps make their way to your room as you make your bed down.
“Hey.” You murmur, barely glancing at him in the doorway of your room.
He doesn’t say anything, though. He walks over to “his” side of the bed, but you put your hand up, stopping him. He’s not wearing his armor anymore, but he is in just his bodysuit. You try to avoid looking at his well-toned form, looking him in the face.
Fixer tilts his head.
“Nothing to say?” You ask, quietly, waiting for him to just say something, but he doesn’t. “Of course not…”
He looks down at your fluffy comforter he loves so much, which he’s mentioned a couple times before.
“Fixer.” You sigh, making him look up at you with those deep warm brown eyes that you adore so much.
He sighs with a soft grunt running his hand through his curls, clearly frustrated.
“You have to give me something.” You crawl on the bed, settling in the middle on your knees.
He’s eyeing the soft skin of your thighs that’s showing in your short silk pajama set. It’s his favorite pair, and you know it. Maybe you’re using it to your advantage. He looks like he wants to touch you, but isn’t letting himself.
“If you want to fuck me tonight… you have to let me in.” You do your best to look at him, firmly.
“I…” He starts, rolling his eyes as he struggles to say what he wants to say. “Ugh. Scorch… knows that I… feel things… for you.”
“And?”
“And… he flirts with you… to get under my skin.” Fixer’s gripping the comforter, his fists tight. “And it works. I hate that it works, cyar’ika.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why do you hate it?”
“Because…” He struggles again.
You crawl to him, running your hands up his chest, making his tight fists let go of the sheets. His calloused hands run around your soft body, pulling you against each other. His eyes are on your lips.
Stay firm, you remind yourself. Who cares if he’s second in command in one of the most intimidating commando squads? Not you. You are not giving in first.
“Please, Fixer.” You sigh. “I was under the impression you wanted to end things with me.”
“Oh… That’s not it at all.” He murmurs. “I promise.”
Maker, he smells so fucking good. Too good.
“So, what is it, then?” You pull away, sitting back on your butt in the middle of the bed, needing a little space before you cave.
He climbs up into the bed, pushing you on your back, pinning you down.
“Fixer-” You start.
“Just listen, will you?” He asks, gently, but also strained.
You nod, letting him continue.
“You, cyar’ika… are mine. Only mine. You belong to me. The thought of any other man touching you, or even speaking to you…” You hear a low frustrated rumble in his throat. “If Scorch wasn’t my vod, I’d have ripped him apart.”
You didn’t know that Fixer feels this way about you, but it does something to your insides and goes straight to your warmth. Does he know how you feel about him? Surely, he does.
“Do you understand what I’m saying?” Fixer asks, lowly, his lips so close to yours.
You nod, losing yourself in those brown orbs and breathlessly murmur, “Yes.”
“Say it then.” Fixer whispers, even closer to lips. “I need to hear it.”
You think this might be the most he’s ever said in an entire night. And fuck, if they’re not the hottest words any man has ever said to you…
“I’m yours.” You bite your lip, trying to squeeze your legs together for some sort of release. “I belong to you, Fixer.”
“That’s right.” He smiles, softly. “Good girl.”
Unable to hold back any longer, you reach up, crushing your lips to his. He groans loudly against your mouth, pressing himself against you, making you feel just how hard he is. All from hearing you tell him you belong to him.
“You like hearing that you belong to me?” He hums.
You nod, whimpering as he grinds his hardened cock against your clothed core. “Y-yes.”
“Good.” He whispers before, pulling away to pull your shorts down, dropping them to the floor behind him.
“Clothes off-” You gasp as he grips your thighs.
Fixer chuckles, getting up off the bed quickly. “Yes, ma’am.”
As you watch him drop his clothes with yours, you sit up to pull your silky tank top off, tossing it with the rest. He takes in your naked form and groans, gripping his cock, already dripping precum.
You start back toward him, eager to get your mouth on him, but he pushes you back again and then, to your surprise, flips you over onto your stomach, pulling you up on your knees and then pressing your face down so that your ass is up.
You think he’s gonna push his cock into you, unable to wait any longer, but he surprises you once again, by licking a long stripe up your drenched folds.
“Oh, Fuck… Fix…” You groan, reaching above you to grip the comforter, just as he was doing earlier.
“Taste so good, sweetheart.” He murmurs against your cunt. “Like always.”
You whimper softly, almost pathetically, when he continues licking into you, his strong fingers, pressing against your clit and rubbing expertly, as always.
“So wet.” He teases.
“So talkative.” You tease back, just happy to hear him talking.
He places a swift smack to your back cheek and you gasp sharply into the room. He rubs the spot where he spanked you and then kisses it before returning back to your soaked pussy.
Your moans fill the room as he continues to work your cunt, getting you nice and soaked for his cock, soon you hope. You want so desperately to be filled by him again. It feels like it’s been too long.
Twenty-six days. But who’s counting?
When he reaches his fingers into you, you feel like you’re about to come right then. It’s been days since you even touched yourself, and you’re pretty sure Fixer can tell.
He chuckles breathlessly. “So needy for me.”
“Mmhmm.” You groan, burying your whimpers into the covers.
“So fucking tight… Can’t wait to sink my cock into you.” He rambles.
You’ve always been accepting that he was a man of few words, but tonight… something changed. Like some sort of switch inside of him, flipped the other way. He’s talking, quietly, and Maker, you love his voice. It’s so low, and so sensual, and goes straight to your warmth.
“Why… wait?” You bounce yourself on his fingers.
“Patience, cyar’ika… Or I’ll make you fuck your own fingers.” He threatens you.
You whine softly, looking back at him and he grins before burying his face in your cunt again, still thrusting his fingers into you, starting to tease that spongy part deep inside of you. The warm familiar feeling pools into you, spreading all the way to your toes, making them curl and before you know it, you’re cumming all over Fixer’s fingers and tongue, moaning into the mattress.
“Let me fucking hear you.” He reaches up to grab your hair, pulling so that your moans and wet sounds fill the entire room.
His thrusting fingers gently slow, before pulling out of you. You pant slightly, as you fall to the bed, rolling over to look up at him, smiling blissfully.
“Fuck me… please?” You whisper.
“I will, I promise.” He murmurs, laying next to you.
The look in his eyes is serious now, not playful like it was just moments ago.
“What is it?” You trace your gentle fingers over his chest, anxiously making lazy patterns.
“I’m afraid that I sounded overbearing earlier…” He stops your hand and brings it to his lips.
This is the softest, most domestic that he’s ever been with you, and you’re almost afraid to move, not wanting it to end.
“I didn’t think you did.” You assure him.
“I don’t want to like… own you.” He chuckles. “But… I guess what I’m trying to say is… I want people to know you- we belong to each other.”
Your chest tightens at his confession and you can’t help but reach up and kiss him. It’s different somehow. Like, all of your kisses before were that of passion or lust… this is… sweet… kind. Fixer sighs against your lips, full of content.
“Next time Scorch flirts with me, I’ll just punch him if you want?” You tease.
“Actually, yes please.” He laughs and you cross your leg over his thigh.
This is the first time you’ve ever heard him laugh fully and you try to commit the sound to memory, hoping that you get to hear it more.
“What made you come to this realization?” You ask.
“Oh, I always want to punch Scorch.” He smirks.
You playfully smack him in the chest, making him chuckle.
“I was on a mission… and I thought for sure we were going to die…” Fixer murmurs, making your stomach churn. “All I could think of was you. Your smile. Your laugh. Your kindness. The way you curl up next to me at night. The way you-”
You roll over on top of him, straddling him, grinding your wet folds over his still hard cock. “Keep going.”
“Fuck…” He groans, gripping your hips tightly. “The way that you cry at holofilms…”
You lift your hips, reaching under you and grabbing his cock, making him gasp.
“Th-the way y-you…” He struggles.
“Keep. Going.” You encourage him, smiling down at him as you line yourself up with his hardened length.
“Th-the way you have to stop to say hi to every loth cat-” He groans incredibly loud as you sink down onto him. “Fuck!”
His eyes roll back in his head as he tilts his head back slightly, making you smile. Clenching around him in a teasing manner, he lets out another string of curses. He fills you so perfectly, just like always. But tonight… it just feels like it means so much more. He feels the same way about you, that you do him.
“You’re gonna be the death of me, not a mission.” He grumbles.
“Yeah, but what a way to go, right?” You grin down at him, brightly.
“I’ll fucking say.” He starts to buck up into you and you push him back down, keeping your hands against his chest.
You start to lift up slightly, only to fall back down against him, making him actually whimper. It’s always music to your ears when you get that sound out of Fixer.
“Maker, Fix… you’re so hard.” You tell him, seduction clear in your tone and his hands fly up to yours on his chest, gripping your hands, creating more support.
He wants you to take over. And you’re happy to oblige. You start bouncing up and down on his cock, causing both of you to groan with need.
The sounds leaving the man underneath you deserve to go into some sort of auditory museum, they’re so fucking beautiful. He’s so beautiful.
“You like when I’m on top?” You ask him, breathlessly, squatting so you can glide up and down on his cock, easier.
“Stars, yes…” He pants. “So… tight.”
You feel the burn in your thighs but you’re able to ignore it, purely driven by the craving for this man. He must sense it though, because he provides support under you, gripping your ass, helping lift you up and down and you can’t help but smile. He winks up at you and it goes straight to your core. You can tell he’s getting closer with each thrust, though.
“Permission to take over?” He whispers.
“Granted, trooper.” You laugh.
He flips the two of you over, so that you’re on your back and starts driving into you.
Oh, he’s definitely welcome to take over.
“So fucking pretty… and perfect.” He groans in your ear, continuously slamming into you, getting the most perfect sounds out of you. “All mine.”
As he tells you that you’re his, his hips stutter only slightly, filling you up, painting your walls with himself. Normally, he’d start to pull away, but he just keeps fucking his cum into you, and honestly, it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. And then when he pulls out, you expect him to stop, but he doesn’t.
He travels down your body, latching his mouth to your cunt again and you nearly descend into another realm.
“Fuck…” You moan, still overstimulated from earlier.
He’s never done this before, cumming in you and then going down on you again. But you’re not complaining. His tongue feels way too good, but with the way that it's moving in you… it takes you a moment to realize he’s gathering up his cum as he rubs your clit. Before you can even say anything, another orgasm is ripped from your body, and he travels back up your body and taps your lips, clearly wanting you to open your mouth. Oh. You gladly open for him and he lets his cum slide into your mouth.
“Swallow for me, sweetheart.” He smirks.
Who are you to deny a dangerous commando? You do as you’re told, swallowing his cum, appreciating the taste of him like you normally do when you go down on him.
“Good girl.” He tells you again for the second time tonight, and then kisses you, proudly.
You both pant against each other, your chests heaving, as you try to come down. He pulls you up to the head of the bed, against the pillows, wrapping his arms around you.
You rest your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. You’ve always found it calming.
“Maybe I should join your squad…” You tease, only slightly.
“Absolutely not.” Fixer shakes his head as he traces patterns over your bare back.
“Why not?” You ask, looking up at him, confused.
“Because I wouldn’t be able to focus… I’d be too busy trying to make sure you were okay.” He smiles. “I like knowing you’re here… safe and sound.”
You suppose that makes sense… Even though, when he’s away, you don’t know if he’s safe.
“Can I tell you something?” You whisper, afraid to speak too loudly.
“Anything.” He kisses your forehead.
“Every time you go, you take a piece of me with you, Fix.” You admit.
“Can I tell you something?” He murmurs.
“Of course.” You answer, nervously.
“Every time I go, I leave my heart here with you.” He admits.
Warmth floods your veins. “Well, I promise to keep it safe.”
“I know you will.” He leans down to kiss you again.
You eventually fall asleep like that, holding each other with sweet promises of him returning to you and you keeping his heart safe and sound.
TAGS: @twistedstitcher27 @misogirl828 @rebel-finn @rexandechosandwich @madameminor @dumfanting @rain-on-kamino @corona-one @tecker @ladykatakuri @brynhildrmimi @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @zoeykallus @maulslittlemeowmeow @littlemousedroid @arctrooper69 @rexxdjarin @padawancat97 @hated-by-me @sleepingsun501 @quigonswife8 @idlenesses @redheadgirl @themcuwriter @ashotofspotchka @sunshinesdaydream @crosshairsimp73 @ariadnes-red-thread @rosmariner @heyitsaloy @starstofillmydream @high-ct5555 @echos-girlfriend @sleepywych @nekotaetae @justanothersadperson93 @brownstalebread @aconstructofamind @book-of-baba-fett @chopper-base @palliateclaw @501st-rexster @dead-poolz @nahoney22 @where-is-my-mind-tho @jediknightjana @erishimoon @witching3 @queen-of-many-fandoms @wizardofrozz
#rep comm fixer#delta squad fixer#delta squad fixer x reader#fixer x reader#rep comm fixer x reader#republic commando fixer
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Sev + "I'm going to give you five seconds to take that back."
Sev x gn!reader (no use of 'y/n' and no pronouns). Flirty (ish).
Word Count: 2,400
Warnings: discussions of medical concerns, references to missions, stimulant misuse, grandstanding, ill-planned bets, semi-flirtatious wrestling.
---
It had all started when you tried to talk your most recent set of charges into being more healthy.
Delta Squad had been a source of constant frustration for you since you were assigned to be their medic. Normally, commando squads weren’t overly concerned about having a medic on-board. However, Delta had a close call on a previous mission. One commando, Sev, had been in especially bad shape.
Some time in a bacta tank had fixed the worst of their injuries, but there were certain limits they shouldn’t push if they wanted to avoid a repeat. Sev needed to be particularly careful, since he had suffered damage to his ribs and many of the organs within them - including his heart.
Which was why you had been irretrievably furious when you found him downing a packet of stims.
“Are you trying to die?” you had demanded. “Because I know you’re not stupid, and those are the only possible reasons you would be using stims with damage to your heart. What were you thinking?”
“I was thinking that I have a mission to complete and I don’t have eight hours to sleep before we get there.”
Honestly, you could have expected that kind of answer, but the nonchalant tone Sev had used was what pushed you over the edge.
“And when they wear off? You know, since you took them three hours before we even break atmosphere?” You had shaken your head, clenching your jaw so tightly that the muscles ached. “If you had bothered to talk to me, I would have advised you to sleep for that time, then take half a stim pack when we arrive.”
“I don’t need some vorpan baar'ur telling me what to do,” he had spat. “As long as I can do my job, the GAR doesn’t worry about the little things. Including my health or my life.”
You didn’t understand the Mando’a, obviously, but that didn’t stop you from rolling your eyes at the drama of his caustic words.
“Apparently, having someone tell you what to do is exactly what you needI” you had countered. “Do you know what kind of shape you’ll be in after another dose of stims? Even I would be able to beat you in a wrestling match! Some use you’ll be to your brothers then.”
It was a bit too far, and you felt bad as silence fell in the small ship. You had worked with enough troopers to know that they prided themselves on loyalty to their brothers above all else. In your defense, though, you recognized the signs of someone who wouldn’t be talked out of their nihilism. By meeting him head-on using the parameters of life as he saw it, you had hoped to shake him out of his stubbornness.
It was only bad luck that it hadn’t worked. Sev’s expression had darkened and you prepared yourself for a threat or a cutting insult, but Scorch had laughed, breaking the tension.
“Sounds like a good, old-fashioned bet,” he had said, chuckling in a way that could only be described as ‘gleeful’.
Sev had scoffed and walked away without another word, but your luck ran out.
Delta Squad had gotten a call from General Jusik, alerting them that the leader of the Separatist-controlled planet had opted for a peace talk. As a gesture of good faith, the GAR was withdrawing the commando squads who had been set to invade.
“We’ve been redirected,” Boss announced when Jusik disconnected the call. The sergeant stepped out of the small cockpit where he had been navigating with Fixer. “We’re to touch down on a Republic-friendly planet in the next system and settle in. We’ll be backup if things go south, so stay ready to go. Get some sleep if you can.”
“Those of us who didn’t already take a packet of stims,” you had muttered when Sev went back to cleaning his blaster instead of heading for the bunks.
Unfortunately, your sarcasm would prove to be your undoing. Scorch perked up at your quiet admonishment, visibly brightening. “Hey, didn’t you say you could beat Sev in hand-to-hand when he’s using stims?”
“Yes,” you confirmed, holding eye contact with Scorch, but trying to watch Sev in your peripheral vision.
“I’m going to give you five seconds to take that back,” Sev growled. When you looked over, you saw that he very much was not focusing on his blaster anymore.
“I don’t think I will.” The way you lifted your chin was nothing short of antagonistic, but you were angry. Clarity of thought while angry had never been your forte. Despite that, you clocked the gray undertones in Sev’s face and the way his fingers were trembling slightly. “In fact, I think I could beat you now, whether or not you take another dose.”
“You’re on,” Sev told you, a challenge thick in his tone.
“Wait-” How you hadn’t seen this coming, you weren’t sure, but your stomach was sinking. “I didn’t mean I actually want to wrestle you. I’m just telling you, as a medical professional, that-”
“Hey, you already said you would,” Scorch reminded you. “Too late to go back on it now.”
“Knock it off, Six-Two. It isn’t too late for anything,” Fixer told him, turning around in the cockpit to face you all. Before you could thank him, he continued as he eyed you directly. “It’s actually a choice: wrestle Oh-Seven or admit that stims aren’t that bad.”
“They are that bad, though,” you insisted.
“If you’re going to wrestle on my ship, do it in the cargo bay,” Boss said over his shoulder. “I don’t want to explain broken equipment to the GAR.”
“This isn’t enough of a challenge to break anything,” Sev decreed. He watched you as he set aside his blaster and stood. “Cargo bay. Five minutes.”
It was overdramatic to specify a time and place on such a small ship, but it still made the pit of your stomach tighten. You took care to offer him an unimpressed face and a simple nod.
"This is gonna be fun!" Scorch said excitedly.
You strongly disagreed, but that wasn’t going to help. It was far too late for that. So you stifled your misgivings and made your way to the back of the ship.
Sev had stripped off his armor by the time you got there. That hadn’t been a concern, but you wondered if it should have been. There was nothing at all you could do against plastoid armor. However, much as you loathed to admit it even to yourself… you were almost as disadvantaged anyway. The sight of Sev’s muscles swelling and bulging under the tightness of his body glove was enough to make the ship feel like it was lurching through the galaxy.
You were wearing comfortable clothes, having refused to change into your lightly armored medic’s gear until you were closer to your eventual destination. You were comfortable and didn’t have to strip off any clothing, but that was almost a pity. It was starting to feel distinctly warm aboard the small ship…
“Ready?” Sev asked.
You nodded, resigned to being decimated by the fully-trained commando. He didn’t attack immediately, choosing to watch you instead. You circled warily, already closer than you liked. The cargo bay of the ship was reasonably big and, as promised, you weren’t going to break anything. That should keep Boss happy, but there still wasn’t a vast amount of space.
So you and Sev circled around, watching each other. You were focused on his chest: all of the hand-to-hand training the GAR had offered told you that motion was typically forecasted in the torso, so that was the best place to watch if you wanted to avoid being surprised.
When you occasionally snuck a glance at Sev, he was watching your face rather than your torso. At first, you wondered if you should be doing the same with him, but then you started to feel flustered rather than wary at the weight of his eyes.
That was when he pounced.
You managed to avoid the first lunge, but you weren’t expecting him to recover his balance as quickly as he did. In half a moment, Sev was upright once more and diving at you.
A strong arm hooked around your waist and you were falling, cushioned from the ground by Sev’s body, but the impact still knocked the air from your lungs. Sev flipped you over and you made your move, rolling quickly out from under him before he had time to close the distance between you.
You got to your feet - or, you started to. Sev’s hand closed around your ankle and pulled. It wasn’t enough to put you back on the floor, but it was enough to bring you heavily to your hands and knees. Since you were already in the proper position, you kicked out with your foot and felt a surge of victory when your heel connected.
And then you were horrified, turning around as you gave a loud gasp. “Sev! Are you okay? I’m so sorry-”
There was a small smudge of dirt on his forehead from your boot, but Sev’s grin flashed bright. “I’m fine. Keep going.”
And then he grabbed both of your ankles, pulling hard enough that your knees went out from under you and you landed on your stomach with a soft, “Oof!”
Sudden heat at your back warned that Sev was getting ready to pin you, so you rolled again. He seemed to expect the movement then, dropping onto you in mid-turn from your side to your back.
With a sudden, surging need to keep your freedom, you pulled back a fist. Your goal was Sev’s recently injured ribs, but you came to your senses before the blow came too close to landing. You were a medic, and every bit of training you had received covered how to prevent injuries, not cause them.
Sev didn’t know that, however, and he winced sharply. He curled into himself in an effort to protect his ribs - a motion that only put more pressure on them. The flash of pain across his face would have made you stop even if you hadn’t already decided to do so.
“Are you-?”
Before you could ask if he was hurt, he had reached down, snagged your wrists, and pressed them against the cold metal of the floor. You were pinned.
You were on your back with a commando pressing you into the floor, but you both… stopped. Your breathing was heavy and - with more than a little surprise - you noticed that Sev’s was, too. Of course, his ribs probably still hurt and you would have to check him for a boot-borne head injury, but you couldn’t help but wonder if he was feeling anything other than pain.
You definitely were.
The chilly bite of the floor at your back faded into the distance as you and Sev studied each other from closer than you had ever been. Sev always looked vaguely angry, but you had wondered if that was his natural expression. That seemed to be true: if you didn’t know him as well as you did, you would have taken his expression to be one of irritation and disdain. But there was softness in it, too. That was what left you feeling like you couldn’t get a full breath.
“Well, Sev, I’d say you won,” Boss remarked dryly.
The comment pulled you back into the moment and you realized that Boss, Fixer, and Scorch were all observing the scene. It felt vaguely ridiculous then, wondering what it would be like to kiss the man who currently had you pinned to the dirty floor. But as Sev released his grip and stood, you missed the warmth of him like it was something tangible.
To your surprise, though, Sev held a hand out to you in a silent offer to help you stand. You took it and he lifted you easily. The silence was thick.
You cleared your throat. “Well, I guess I was wrong. One stim pack isn’t enough for me to win a wrestling match. I still think-”
“Save it,” Sev ordered and you froze. No matter what you thought had changed between you, it wasn’t enough to save you from his sharp tongue. But when he spoke again, Sev’s voice was far more gentle. “It was closer than I thought it would be. Another few minutes and I would have probably lost. I’ll lay off the stims.”
“Aww, no rematch?” Scorch complained.
Fixer made a sharply derisive noise and left for the cockpit. “I’ll pilot us to the staging planet.”
“All of you, get some rest,” Boss ordered before he left as well.
Scorch lingered a moment, glancing between you and Sev. You were still standing close together, the tension palpable between you. Unlike most of your interactions, that tension was not actively hostile.
You were torn between wanting Scorch to leave so you and Sev could talk about what had just happened, and wanting him to stay so you didn’t have to. Slowly, like he was watching something interesting unfold before his eyes, Scorch turned and retreated to his bunk. Since the bunks were in the section just ahead of the cargo bay, Scorch was still in hearing range, but a sense of privacy settled thickly around you and Sev.
When you finally gathered the courage to look over, Sev was watching you. Neither of you spoke, and your mind raced in an effort to find the right words.
Your lips parted, though you didn’t have the slightest idea what you planned on saying. Fortunately, Sev spoke before you could say some muddled assortment of words that might mean nothing… or too much.
“We should sleep while we can,” he told you. After a moment, he added with a wry grin, “Some medic told me I need actual rest, not just stim packs.”
It was more familiar ground, and you relaxed enough to jibe, “What disappointing news.”
“Yeah,” Sev agreed. “But the delivery made it a little better.”
You could only shake your head as you followed him to the bunks.
---
Author's Note - I love Sev wayyyyy too much! I have written more fics for him than for any other member of Delta Squad. That being said, I'm going to focus on Scorch and Boss next since I haven't done much for them. If you have any great ideas for either one that you'd like to throw my way, feel free to comment, ask, or message!
Thanks for reading! You can find other works on my masterlist. As of a few days ago, I discontinued my taglist. You can find just fics on my side-blog, @wanderinginksplot-writes. (As soon as I work through my drafts on this blog, all fics will be posted there first and cross-posted here later.)
#star wars#star wars fanfiction#star wars republic commando#star wars legends#delta squad#republic commando#repcomm#delta squad sev#sev x reader#sev x you#reader insert#reader#gn!reader
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Overtime
It was just supposed to be a football game. But then Hangman took Syla up on her invitation to watch the Blue Angels perform at the Miramar air show. A month after meeting and facing the last home show of her career, the history making Naval Aviator invited Hangman to visit her in Pensacola. She didn't actually expect him to accept. Payback definitely wasn't happy.
A continuation of First and Goal. This got away from me at 5.1K words. No physical description of the reader, callsign is Syla (pronounced like Cilla) and she's a Florida State fan.
Cross-posted on Ao3.
-------------------------------------------------------
The humidity hit Jake in the face as he exited the Pensacola airport. His eyes darted up and then to the line of cars. “I’m under the Delta sign.”
“Okay, I’m pulling out of the cellphone lot,” Syla said. He heard her humming and felt his lip twitch. Over the month they’d been talking, he’d heard it many, many times, usually when she was focused on something. Once, when they’d done a video call while she was in Oregon, he’d asked her if she hummed while flying and was promptly flipped off. “I...think I see you.” The call disconnected as a blue convertible Mini Cooper stopped in front of him. Payback scowled, elbowing him out of the way as Syla got out and circled the car.
“Reuben!” she squealed. Jake rolled his eyes, grabbing the other man’s bag as he hugged Syla, lifting her off her feet. Payback hadn’t been thrilled to find out he wasn’t the only one who had requested leave to head down to Florida for the Blue Angels homecoming show. Hell, Syla had been surprised when Jake had quickly accepted her half-joking invitation.
Jake had gone to the show in Miramar. It was his first time seeing them since their flyover at his Academy graduation, which he’d only half paid attention to back then. The Blue Angels were good PR for the Navy but had never caught his attention - pilots stuck repeating the same maneuvers every time? Sounded almost as bad as being assigned to desk duty. He'd take dog fighting every time if given the choice between it and the flying equivalent of synchronized swimming. But, after going through flight school and some experience with formation flying, he had a new respect for the Angels.
The way Syla filled out her tight blue flight suit definitely didn’t hurt matters. Jake had managed to get close enough to watch the team march in a line to their jets and climb in, trading out their caps for helmets before taxiing and taking off in formation. For an hour, he watched them execute loops, inversions, pitches, and breaks. After the show, he’d joined the queue for her autograph and grinned at her surprised look. As she signed the team picture, he asked her about not wearing a g-suit that helped keep blood from pooling in the lower extremities and forced it toward the brain. From his estimation, they were pulling at least 7Gs at points.
“Can’t,” Syla had shrugged. “We have our right arm on our thigh for stability and to help with the 40-pound spring tensioned on the stick. Air bladders would inflate at the worst time and ruin the maneuver. ‘Sides, since we fly it constantly, we know when to tense to avoid G-LOC.” Sliding her aviators down her nose, the Blue Angel smirked and slid the picture across the table to him. “Good to see you again, Hangman.”
Her phone number was under her loopy signature.
“Hey,” Jake said when she turned her attention to him, eyebrow raised over her sunglasses. Crossing her arms over her chest, forcing her breasts higher into the tank top she wore, Syla cocked her hip.
“I have so many questions. First - what the hell is with the pornstache?” Grinning, Jake ran a hand over his mustache.
“Don’t like it?”
“You look like the other guy in your squad… um…” she snapped her fingers, glancing at Payback.
“Rooster.”
“Rooster! That’s right. He can pull off a mustache.”
“I make a mustache look good,” he chuckled, dropping the bags into the open trunk. Shaking her head, she stepped closer, wrapping her arms around his waist.
“Jury’s out. Also, people are gonna think you’re a Gator or Canes fan in that orange.”
“Hook ‘em, baby.” Over her head, Jake caught Payback’s eye roll.
“Alright,” Syla said, stepping out of his loose embrace and slamming the trunk closed. “Get in so we can go grab dinner. I’m starving.”
“Please tell me we’re getting some seafood,” Payback moaned, beelining for the front seat. Jake rolled his eyes, following Syla around the car and pulling open the door for her before ducking into the back seat. His knees pressed into her seat, and he shifted to try and get more comfortable.
The two aviators chatted while Syla pulled out of the airport and drove through Pensacola. It had been years since Jake had been back. Like many Naval aviators, his career had begun at a local flight school while stationed at NAS Whiting Field, just across the bridge and a couple of miles down I-10 in Milton. While he’d enjoyed his time at Annapolis during the Academy, it had been fun to cut loose and spend weekends on the white sand beaches, flirting with tourists and drinking at dive bars. But after he’d moved on to Intermediate Flight Training, he’d never looked back. North Florida had little appeal for him. If he had to be stationed in the state, he would go for the Keys.
“You good back there, Hangman?” Syla asked, pulling him from his musing. She’d twisted in her seat, strands of hair that had escaped her regulation bun framing her face.
“All good, just looking at how much it’s changed.” She smiled, turning back around when the light turned green.
After grabbing dinner by the beach at a local spot called The Oar House, the trio made their way to Syla’s place. It was a cute little white house with a red - “garnet,” she’d corrected - door. As another condition of his coming, Payback claimed the one guest bedroom while Jake was relegated to the couch.
It helped to know that Payback only had the bed for one night and would join him in sleeping in the living room when Syla’s parents arrived the next day.
So, while Payback went to bed early to call his kid, Jake and Syla hung out. At first, there had been some initial awkwardness, trying to navigate a friendship conducted mainly over the phone. It didn’t take long until Jake found himself itching to tuck her hair, free from the tight bun and damp from her shower, behind her ear.
“Okay, I have to know,” she said, setting her glass on the coffee table before facing him. Propping her elbow against the back of the couch, she buried a hand in her hair and smirked. “What’s with the mustache? You weren’t deployed, so it’s not a deployment ‘stache. Or is this like a normal thing for you?”
“Definitely not a normal thing for me,” he chuckled, setting his beer on the coffee table and turning to mirror her. At her cocked eyebrow, he shrugged. “Payback.”
“Are we talking Reuben or revenge for something?”
“A bit of both. He’s real protective of you and wasn’t happy to hear that we’ve been talking. Or that I was coming here.”
“Oh god, are you telling me you look like that because of me?” She let her head fall back at his shrug while taking a deep breath. The move pulled her sleep shirt tight against her chest, and he could see her pebbled nipples through the material. “I’m gonna kill him.”
“It’s fine.” And it was. It was worth it if this was the penalty for violating the bro code - as the rest of the Daggers had ruled when they found out about his contact with Syla.
“Your pretty face shouldn’t be sacrificed for his petty male ego.”
“You think I’m pretty?” Jake teased. Syla lowered her head and gave him an unimpressed look. With a huff, she ran her thumb over his mustache.
“When you don’t have a fuzzy caterpillar on your face.” Amusement sparkled in his green eyes when Syla raised hers from his mouth to meet his. Her fingers rasped on his stubble as they glided across his jaw. Jake watched, biting back a groan when she played with the hair on the nape of his neck. Gentle pressure guided him closer as her tongue darted to wet her lips. A smirk curved his mouth as his gaze narrowed to hers.
A throat cleared, and Syla jumped, her hand falling to her lap. Payback stood beside the television, arms crossed over his chest. “Am I interrupting something?” he asked.
“Absolutely,” Syla replied, even as pink dusted her cheeks. Payback’s eyes darted to Jake, who shrugged. “Oh no - this is not… If you have a problem with me talking to Jake, you’ll talk to me about it, Reuben.”
“Okay. I don’t like it. You don’t know Hangman.”
“Cool. Good to know. That’s part of why we’re talking - to get to know one another.” He groaned her name, running a hand down his face.
“He’s got a reputation in Miramar.” Jake flushed with embarrassment. Sure, he enjoyed a one-night stand, but he hadn’t had one in a while. Definitely not since he’d started talking to the pilot beside him.
“So you’re telling me he knows what he’s doing and can probably find the clit. That’s great to know.” Both men sputtered, and Syla laughed. “In case you haven’t noticed, Payback, I’m not the 22-year-old girl you met. And as much as I appreciate you looking out for me, I’m a pretty good judge of character. So if I want to talk to Jake, kiss him, and maybe have sex, that’s our decision.” Patting Jake’s shoulder, she stood and gave Payback a sweet smile. “And with that, gentlemen, I’m going to go to bed since I have work in the morning. You know, where I’m a history-making Naval aviator whose judgment is tested and proven every day that I’m in the air flying inches away from other aviators, where one small deviation could mean death for either of us. Night boys.”
The two men watched Syla walk to the hallway, pausing to pat Payback’s chest and closing her bedroom door.
Jake fell a little bit in love.
“Morning,” Jake said, his voice rough with sleep. Syla smiled and waved, continuing towards the kitchen where the coffee pot gurgled. Scrubbing a hand through his hair, he joined her, taking the mug she slid across the counter and leaning against the stove, scratching his bare chest.
“How’d you sleep?” she asked.
“Not the worst place I’ve bunked.”
“It’s a step above the carrier.” He smiled over the rim of his mug. He’d never dated a woman in the military and never would have even thought about pursuing another aviator. Sure, he enjoyed flirting with Phoenix to get a rise out of her, but their careers overlapped too much for him to ever think about pursuing anything. Plus, Rooster would kill him if he ever worked up the nerve to admit his feelings about his “best friend.”
But there was something comforting about talking with Syla. Over the last month, he’d enjoyed not having to explain things in his daily life. No explanation was needed when he rescheduled calls because he was doing late maneuvers. Honestly, she was the one doing the rescheduling more often than not. She was also the one who fell asleep when they were on the phone. He’d never admit it, but Jake usually stayed on the line for a few more minutes, listening to her soft breathing and half-heartedly hoping she’d wake before hanging up.
“What’s your day look like?” he asked. Syla frowned and stepped past him to look at the calendar hanging on the refrigerator.
“We’re briefing the show this morning and then going to a middle school. Not sure if we’re doing the interview there or if the camera crew is just getting footage. Then final dress rehearsal over the Gulf.” There was something sad in her eyes when she turned to meet his gaze.
“What?”
“I just…” To his surprise, tears gathered in her eyes as she looked up at the ceiling and swallowed. “Sorry, just kinda hitting me that this is it.” Setting his mug down, he opened his arms. Syla rested her head on his shoulder, palms flat on his chest. Jake's hand ran up the back of her flight suit, tugging her closer as he brushed his lips against her temple. When she lifted her head, he kissed her cheek. But when he tried to do it again, she turned to meet him.
Their first kiss was a sweet one. Syla’s hands drifted up his chest to wrap around the back of his neck and tug him down as she surged onto her toes. He steadied her with hands on her hips, gripping the blue fabric tightly as she licked into his mouth. A groan escaped him as she smiled. The mustache prickled against her skin.
“It’s too early for this.”
“Morning, Reuben,” Syla sighed, dropping back onto her heels and resting her forehead against Jake’s chin. Slowly, she pulled away and looked at her friend. “Sleep well?”
“Other than a nightmare, yeah.” Chuckling, she stepped out of Jake’s arms and grabbed her travel coffee mug.
“Duke is gonna pick me up so you can have my car for the day. I’ll be home around 5:30 or 6:00. My parent should be here around that time, too, so we’ll go out for dinner. I have to have an early night for the show tomorrow, but we can take two cars so you can have fun downtown.” The flight leader was happy to help her with a ride, seeing as he lived down the street.
“An early night sounds good to me,” Jake nodded.
“Great. Duke’s pulling up, so I’m headed out.” With a quick peck to both men’s cheeks, she left.
“You’re an ass,” Payback grumbled while opening the cabinets for a mug. Ignoring him, Jake returned to the couch and grabbed his cell phone, quickly pulling up their text thread.
Can confirm I know where the clit is
A few minutes later came her reply.
Seeing is believing
Syla woke early and pulled on her running gear. It was hard to sneak out of the house with the two aviators crashing in the living room, but she managed it. After slipping her earbuds in, she started her pre-show tradition of a five-mile run while mentally practicing the flight maneuvers. Hands clenched in front of her, she imagined Duke’s voice and positioned the stick and throttle. Deployed the smoke that allowed the crowd to follow them as they climbed. She would have the privilege of a sneak attack on the beach, buzzing the crowd who watched her wingmen fly ahead.
Even after three seasons, every show made her nervous. And performing in front of the hometown crowd, while amazing, brought its own level of pressure. North Florida was the home to a huge military population. These people saw them the most - they practiced over the Naval Aviation Museum twice weekly and signed autographs. Hell, there was a sign as you got into town that said ‘Home of the Blue Angels.’ Pensacola had the Blue Angels, Corry Station, and Whiting Field, where many aviation careers started. The Air Force had three bases just an hour up the road - Hurlburt Field, Duke Field, and Eglin. Eglin had its own place in military aviation history, as it was where the pilots of the Doolittle Raid - the US’s retaliation on Japan following Pearl Harbor, where modified bombers had launched from the USS Hornet with no fighters as backup - had trained. The Air Force had their own fighter and test wings stationed there, and the Army was training special forces.
Further out were the two bases in Panama City - the Naval Support Activity Panama City and Tyndall Air Force Base, which housed their own fighter wing. That wasn’t even considering all of the veterans in the area. Syla had briefly dated someone who worked for the Veteran’s Administration, who had told her that the Gulf Coast was one of the fastest-growing areas for vets.
So yeah, hometown shows made her nervous. And her dumb ass had invited a certain Lieutenant, who made her even more nervous. Who she outranked. As a Lieutenant Commander, she was responsible for ensuring they didn’t break any fraternization rules. And even though Jake wouldn’t be under her command - the Daggers were stationed at Miramar under TOPGUN but were not instructors - they might still get some looks.
Which was presuming that Jake even wanted something other than a fling. Panting, Syla stopped running and bent, wiping away the sweat on her brow. Even this early, the humidity was killer. “Fucking focus,” she ordered herself.
There was nothing like an airshow. From the moment Syla stepped onto the tarmac, the energy was electric. For her last home show, they’d picked the theme of Celebrating Women in Aviation, focusing on the Women Airforce Service Pilots (WASPS) that began in WWII when the US needed pilots. Women could join the military to ferry, test, and deliver planes for repair.
From the civilian aerobatic pilots to the Air Force’s Viper and F-35 demo teams and the explosive Tora Tora Tora reenactment, there was something for everyone. She joined her parents, Reuben, and Jake after the Angels’ morning briefing. While her parents and Reuben stayed in the tent, she and Jake did a quick walk around, pausing so she could sign autographs and take pictures. She was glad her sunglasses were on when a little girl traced over her embroidered wings and said she wanted to be a pilot, too. Jake’s fingers brushed hers as they walked, and she fought a smile.
And then it was show time. Syla forced herself to focus on the moment. Doing anything else would endanger the team and her aircraft. So, she focused on saluting her flight crew and doing her checks. She wasn’t part of the diamond take-off formation but would be doing a high G vertical climb into an inversion. And then she thought about Duke’s final order - “Have fun.”
So she did. She allowed herself to smile as she fought against gravity, admired the beautiful ocean she flew over, and laughed at the startled crowd as she executed the sneak pass.
And yes, she did hum while doing it.
Sunday was harder. Syla woke up early for her run and was surprised to find Jake awake in the kitchen, shirtless and wearing running shorts and sneakers. He joined her, her extra reflective belt wrapped around his bicep. It was still dark, their way lit by streetlights and the occasional passing car. Jake glanced over as she ran through the show, hands at her stomach moving the imaginary stick and throttle.
Everything for her last show needed to be perfect.
“You’ve got this,” he said when they turned back into her cul de sac. Feeling like a teenager sneaking around, she tugged him around the side of the house and pressed him against the siding. His hands wrapped around her hips, holding her tightly as her hands slid up his sweat-slicked skin to wrap around the back of his neck. It was still dark out, the sun not due to rise for another hour. If her neighbors looked out the glass door in their living room or someone drove past, they would easily be spotted. But that didn’t stop her from pressing against him, feeling his heat through her sports bra and running shorts.
Jake pressed teasing kisses to her forehead, nose, and cheek before Syla gripped his hair and kissed him hard. His hand slid to her ass, squeezing and tugging her closer. She could feel his cock through his jogging shorts and dug her nails into his skin to keep from touching him. Nothing in the world would make her jeopardize her career with a public indecency charge.
When his attention shifted to her neck, licking the salt from her skin, Syla forced herself to push against his shoulders and step back. His grip tightened, not letting her go too far. “Everything okay?” he asked. In the semi-darkness, she could barely make out his confused expression.
“I need to know,” she said, biting her kiss-swollen lower lip. “I know we’ve only known each other for a month, but am I pissing off one of my best friends for a fling?”
“A fling?”
“I outrank you, Jake. If there’s blowback, it’s gonna come back on me. Not only because of rank but because I’m a woman. I will always have Blue Angels in my bio, so I will always be held to the highest standard. So I have to know - is this just having fun? Or is this something we want to pursue? Because I’m fine either - ”
Jake’s lips silenced her, his tongue insistently licking into her mouth as he turned them to pin her against the siding with his hips. With his hands braced by her head, he pulled away, smirking when she chased his kiss. One knuckle traced from her temple and swept across her jaw before tilting her head up as he tutted her name. “You think I’d risk pissing off my entire squad for a fling? If I wanted that, I would have just waited for you to get to Miramar instead of coming out here, annoying Payback, and meeting your parents. This is my first vacation in years, and I wanted to spend time alone with you. If you want this to be a fling - ”
“I don’t.”
“Good. Cause I don’t either.” They stood there, smiling at one another for a long moment until they heard a dog bark. Shoving him away, Syla turned and waved at her neighbor as he stepped out of the house across the street, dressed for his own morning run. Taking Jake’s hand, she tugged him back towards the front door, enjoying how he pressed himself against her back as she unlocked it. “Just wait until we’re alone, and I’ll show you just how well I can find your clit,” he growled in her ear as she gripped the doorknob.
“Just out of curiosity,” she said, glancing at him over her shoulder. “Did you tell Reuben that you were staying for a week? Or does he think you’re flying out tonight, too?”
“Now, where would the fun be in telling him?” Jake asked. Syla laughed, turning in his embrace to pat his cheek.
“It’s your funeral, Hangman.” His grin was blinding as he leaned down to kiss her.
“What a hell of a reason to go.”
Emotion nearly choked her as Syla drove down Blue Angel Parkway toward the base. She’d left her parents to drive the other aviators in, wanting some time alone that morning. The squad had invited her guests to watch the last briefing of the season so they wouldn’t be too far behind. Reuben or Jake would be able to get her parents on base. While the air show gates didn’t open until 8:00AM, a few cars were already waiting at the Visitor Control building’s parking lot. After flashing her ID to the gate guard, she made her way to the hanger to quickly inspect her plane. Their flight mechanics were among the best in the world, and Syla trusted them with her life, but you could never be too careful. Once assured that everything was fine, she made her way to the briefing room, pausing to talk to some of the other early birds and to grab a shitty cup of coffee from the break room. Rather than take her seat, she took the opportunity to read the plaques that decorated the walls, running her finger over her name engraved on the list of pilots.
“Big day, Syla. You ready for it?” Duke asked, coming into the briefing room and standing beside her. She glanced up at him and rolled her lips together, swallowing hard against the lump in her throat.
“As I’ll ever be,” she replied hoarsely.
“One more flight, and then you’re back in the greens,” he chuckled, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and tugging her close.
“I look so much better in blue,” she smirked, glancing down at her flight suit. After three years, going back to a green suit that didn’t have her name and plane number embroidered on her chest, that had a different squadron patch, would be strange. This wasn’t the first time she’d left a squad, but it definitely was the hardest. Their team, from the flight and ground crew to the Marine pilots that flew Fat Albert, the C-130J that carried the crew show to show, spent so much time together. From January to November, they saw each other every day - on Thursdays, they flew out to the show location and returned to Pensacola on Mondays; Tuesdays and Wednesdays were practice days. For three years, Syla had celebrated birthdays, anniversaries, new babies, and graduations with these folks. She’d babysat for their kids and hung out at their houses. They had gotten her drunk to celebrate her promotion before dragging her to the beach and tossing her into the Gulf in her whites - she made sure that they also got drenched - and teased her relentlessly whenever she dated someone.
The other squad members slowly filed in, and Syla was subjected to brotherly teasing. When her guests arrived, she introduced Jake and Reuben by their callsigns. The looks her squad sent her when Hangman shook their hands were priceless - they’d seen his name pop up on her phone more than a few times. The corner of Jake’s eye twitched at every shake, making her wonder if they were squeezing his hand harder than necessary. Payback looked happy at the cooler welcome the other pilot got.
“Alright,” the flight leader said once everyone had taken their seat around the table, him at the head. Crew and her guests sat along the wall. “We’ll leave the sentimental stuff for the boat party later, but as you all know, this is Syla’s last flight with us. And while we’re excited to welcome Lieutenant Commander Reyes in a few months, she will have big shoes to fill. So we’ll be perfect today, not only for Syla but for our hometown crowd. I want the debrief to be short this afternoon so we can go celebrate another successful season and get some downtime. Now, conditions today allow for the high show…” Syla opened her folder and retrieved the aerial map of Pensacola as he read out the wind and view data. The tip of her pen traced the maneuvers they would go through, as he called them.
She could feel eyes on her as they pushed away from the table and did a chair flight, Duke’s comforting cadence helping her block out everything else. Her own eyes remained closed as they talked through the flight, visualizing and practicing the throttles and stick positions, where they would have pull on the stick, tensing to fight the Gs, her calls on the radio, turning to check the alignment of their synchronized ascent into the loop, deploying smoke - every second of the 45-minute show.
And when she opened her eyes, they caught on a pair of green ones that stared at her from across the room. The corner of Jake’s mouth twitched as he gave a curt nod. Beside him, her parents beamed. Payback sat back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest and grinned.
Syla couldn’t help the tears that fell as she taxied back into position. Even over her engine, she could hear the crowd cheering as they announced her name and thanked her for her years of flying with the Blues. As the canopy rose, she swiped at her face and took a deep breath.
It was over.
After three years, she was now returning to the fleet. She would be assigned a new Super Hornet, grey instead of bright blue, with her name and callsign painted below the canopy. The next few months would be spent reviewing tactical and weapons updates, and she’d have a few weeks to refresh her air combat skills before taking on her first TOPGUN class. She was pretty sure that she'd spend some time with the meatball, the machine that helped baby aviators learn the dimensions of the ship's flight line; she felt rusty even with over 600 carrier landings under her belt.
Thankfully, she was sure there was an active-duty pilot who would be more than happy to help her study.
“You good?” Syla looked up at her crew chief and nodded at the woman. Quickly, she handed over the helmet, realizing it would be one of the last times she wore it. Soon, she would be back in her garnet one with gold arrows - her nod to her alma mater. After smoothing down her hair, she put her cover back on and prepared to exit the cockpit.
Three years. Over 900 days on the road. Hundreds of hours in the air.
It was over.
A Week Later
Fanboy glanced at his phone, frowning at the text from Hangman. The Miami game was on a commercial break, so he quickly opened it and saw it was a video.
He recognized the place immediately - Florida State’s football stadium. Doak Campbell. Fucking Hangman was at the Miami-FSU game. Hangman panned the camera around the stadium, and Fanboy realized he was standing on the field. In the endzone. The announcer’s voice was a bit muffled but became clearer as Hangman refocused the camera on Syla.
“Callsign Syla made history as the first female aviator on the Blue Angels, carrying on the proud FSU tradition of excellence. Let’s give a loud welcome home to Syla!”
The crowd roared, chants of “USA” echoing as Syla held up her hands and waved before doing the tomahawk chop. In the background, he saw that she was being broadcast on the jumbotron. As it cut away, she held her hands up again. She brought her thumbs together to form the University of Miami ‘U’ symbol before dropping all but her middle fingers. The student section started a chant of ‘Fuck U’ as she laughed.
“Fuck Miami!” Syla grinned.
“Fuck Miami!” Hangman echoed, swinging the camera around to show himself flipping off the camera, that god-awful mustache still on his face. For once, he wasn’t wearing Texas gear but had swapped it out for a Seminoles cap and t-shirt.
Oh, Fanboy thought. He was definitely gonna have to deal with way more bro code violations once he got back. Especially after he forgot to turn off the recording before kissing Syla.
Fanboy debated forwarding it to the group chat but decided against it. Having a bit of blackmail was never a bad thing.
The group chat started popping off in the 4th quarter.
What the fuck is this? Payback fired off, sharing a picture of Hangman with his arm around Syla and their back to the field. Her hand rested on his stomach.
Damn, Rooster replied. Phoenix added a gif of Stephen Colbert eating popcorn.
Looks like fun, Bob added.
Fuck the Noles, Fanboy typed out.
Is no one bothered by this??? Payback demanded. The chat went silent until Hangman’s name popped up.
Syla here. Two things - 1) Fuck Miami, and 2) I’m begging you to let the man shave the fucking mustache. Facial hair is not my thing.
---------------------------------------------------
Note: I didn't expect to write a follow up to First and Goal, but I also didn't expect the engagement with it. Thank you to everyone who read it. A major thank you to @mayhemmanaged for helping talk me through this fic and reading a rough draft of it. And @dreamlandcreations for saying she wanted a part 2.
The North Florida panhandle has a huge military population. I recently moved away from the Gulf Coast, after my dad was stationed at Eglin AFB. That is where I first got to see a jet engine up close and see how beautiful the afterburner could be. It's where I went to my first stateside air show. I completed an internship at the VA in Pensacola, and was able to see the Blue Angels fly every week. Like Jake, I didn't really appreciate the panhandle until I left. There's nothing like shifting from pine trees to an ocean view as you cross the I-10 bridge, going from Whiting Field to Pensacola.
Like Syla, I'm a diehard Seminole, graduating from there a total of 4 times. I actually stole her flight leader's callsign, Duke, from a guy I went to high school and college with, who flies for the Air Force.
So long story short, this fic was inspired by aviation and Lieutenant Commander Amanda 'Stalin' Lee, the first female Blue Angel. Thanks for reading ❤️
Tagging those who reblogged and commented on First and Goal:
kmc1989; gigisimsonmars; starset21; the-slytherin-library-12; ssa-sadboi; fanficfandomlove; shanimallina87; myfaveficrecs; roosterforme; thefandomimagines; dreamlandcreations; topherwrites; roosteraloha; tgmreader; love-in-light; starlightmoon2020; clockworkballerina; bibissparkles; top-hhun; just-in-case-iloveyou; scarlettwidow19; themusingofagothicsoul; milani-marie; rooseresintg; lets-turn-and-burn; bellaireland1981; shanimallina87; sydthekid1518; gspenc; mimi-8793; novagreen04; fulla02reads; alldaysdreamers; atarmychick007; onceupona-happilyeverafter-love; rosiahills22
#hangman fic#hangman x reader#jake seresin x reader#Jake Seresin#jake hangman seresin#top gun#top gun fanfiction#top gun x female reader#First and Goal fic
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The One God Forbade
Chapter 1
Pairing - Captain Price X GN!Reader X Lieutenant Riley
MDNI 18+ PLEASE.
WORD COUNT: 6.3K
Summary: You survived an interrogation but don't remember anything except the pain you endured and Captain Price saving you. Once you recovered, you were left with more questions with seemingly no answer.
AUTHOR’S NOTE AT THE END!
WARNINGS/CWS/TWS: GRAPHIC SCENES(DETAILED GORE, there will be a warning and a spacer just for it so you can skip), Military terms that might be wrong, Drinking, Childhood trauma, mention of abuse, death and mentions of death, talks of scars, implied rape.
Spacers/Headers by: @mmadeinheavenn , @imlevis , @animatedglittergraphics-n-more , @wanwanparty
{(N/n) = nickname}
It was a surprise Kortac didn't sign you from the get go. You knew of a couple of their members, König and Horangi specifically, only by mere whispers. You were the new recruit on base. Anyone and everyone would kill to have your spot, a vacancy was opened and granted to you to join Task force 141. Nobody saw it coming, you'd always thought it was the best soldier from your squad who'd be nominated, but everyone including you was blindsided by the choice.
You were home, on leave for only a week after a grueling mission your platoon had to complete and after recovery. Intel was needed and special ops teams Alpha, Delta and ,your squad, Echo were tasked to gather it, eliminate all threats if faced and by any means get said intel. Other squads joked (some meant what they said) that you didn't belong in the army, but rather a mercenary group like Kortac. The lengths you'd take to accomplish a mission gave you that title. It was a switch, something even you can't control. What lays in your wake is the multiple sights of mangled and bloodied corpses, those whose faces were intact belonged to people you have never come across once in your life.
That mission made your attempts to sleep futile, it haunts you every night when you rest your head. You were separated from your team, trying to exfil but ended up amidst an ambush. Everyone knew how skilled a soldier you were, but never had taken you for the type to sacrifice yourself for the means of your fellow squadmates' safety. You'd make headway to a couple of your injured comrades, shooting at enemies who’d even think of taking a step forward. Dragging them back to the safety of the group, you’d left them to get first aid, hell you even threw your back up kit on top of one of the injured before running to the last man. The few before him received shots to their limbs, nothing that would render them dead, but the last man had more than just a shot.
Rodney was Echo team’s Field Team Leader(FTL) and had been by your side pulling the injured and returning fire on the enemies. That was when a stray IED happened to go off, you swore that a pebble triggered it but you didn't have the time to think about it. Luckily for the both of you, it wasn’t close to do deadly damage but it was enough for the building in front of you to shake and a piece of rubble had fallen onto Rodney’s leg as he was trying to get up after the explosion. You had been scraped by flyaway shrapnels but one happened to embed itself into your thigh, right above your knee. Seeing that he had it worse, you made it a priority to get that injured comrade out of the way first so you can focus on Rodney after. You’d almost — or hell quite literally — thrown the man to safety and dashed for Rodney, using the momentum, you attempted to kick the rubble off and thankfully it did. Placing a tourniquet on Rodney’s leg so he didn't bleed out.
You'd only manage to drag him halfway to the group, before a crazed hostile came charging at you with a knife. Stupid as it was to bring a knife to a gunfight in a literal sense, you reached for your pistol and raised it to shoot the hostile, hearing a click instead of a shot going off. An empty mag, you chuckled. Shouting for Rodney to crawl the rest of the way and yell for someone, you holstered the pistol to exchange for your trusty karambit. You've been in hand to hand combat for training but for some reason this was different. You found yourself on the ground quicker than ever, despite being top in your batch.
The man stood over you with a sinister look, with a grin stretching from ear to ear. “Another American added to my collection, I won’t kill you so soon. Not yet at least, we still need to know how you found this place. And dear little soldier, oh how much fun I’ll have torturing you and keeping you barely breathing.” He proceeded to plunge the knife into your side, somehow missing everything vital but you convinced yourself that it would be blood loss that kills you at this point. You’d rather die quiet than betray the military. Blacking out due to the shock, the last thing you heard Rodney yelling for the rest to fire at the man and not just stand there with their dicks in their hands. At last it was too late, the team had to exfil but not without calling it in and letting the team who was aiding us with the mission about the situation at hand. A rescue mission for a fellow soldier.
Neither you nor your team knew that the intel was for Task Force 141’s next deployment, you were the bait Laswell had deployed. It was to ensure that the ring leader didn’t take the situation seriously, a random military team out on patrol happened to stumble upon a measly little operational base they had out in the sandy town, a perfect bait. Bringing back the intel to the team at base, Laswell gave Price the details of your rescue, unbeknownst to you of course.
TORTURE SCENE AHEAD, AVOID IF YOU AREN’T COMFORTABLE WITH SUCH
YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED
You woke up to the sharp and pulsating pain in your side, vision blurred and arms shackled to a metal table, you remembered what happened. You braced yourself for the worse, nothing like good old torture. The next 8 hours felt like hell, from waterboarding, branding you with a metal rod that was heated to the point of it glowing bright orange, to nails being pulled starting from your toes then to your hands, you endured every second of torture being thrown at you. Sure it was horrible, but you kept your mouth shut by any means possible. Every time a nail was pulled ever so agonizingly slowly, you bit your lips to the point that blood dripped down your chin and that the pain was now numbed, you no longer felt it. You closed your eyes, counting every second.
1, 2, 3, 4- “How did you find this compound?” 9, 10. 30600. 1, 2, 3- “I know you can hear me!” 7, 8, 9, 10. 30610- Another slow pull of a nail, this time it was your right pinky toe, no nails on the right foot 8 hours, 35 minutes, 20 seconds into being kidnapped. Yeah they took a whole 5 minutes to torture your pinky toe for information.
1, 2, 3, 4, 5- the door to the room opens again, a different man enters. This time with a trolley with surgical tools. You could see a scalpel, clamps, retractors, suction, staples and energy systems, you could tell this man enjoys the torment he inflicts. With the orchestra of surgical tools laid out in front of him, he was the conductor who was gonna lead your screams into a melodious conforment of the perfect harmony, a symphony to his ears. 45950.
1, 2, 3, 4, you felt him cut open the top of your hand, using the clamps on the nerves and playing with them, all without anesthetics, you growled as your face contorted to the pain. Cauterizing the incision, “You know, I had enough sessions like this, I could get a medical license just from how talented and skill I am with my tools.” Deranged as he sounds, you kept counting. 50400. It is now 50401. You had enough when you felt him grab your belt buckle. That’s where it happened. You blacked out. The last that you remembered.
Back at base, Laswell called for the last mission briefing after Price gathered the boys and informed them of what was going on. After which Price and the few members of Task force 141 geared up. He led them onto the helo and they flew out to the sandy plains you were left at. 3 hours after the incident was called in.
Laswell had informed him of the prestigious yet silent soldier that was being considered for his team. He’d lost a recruit in an earlier deployment, one he took to heart. Like many from the past, another scar added, that lay permanent by his chest and the haunting that left him shaking and restless at night, another one failed by his very leadership. Making even the unshakeable captain wake in cold sweats and trembling and to his vices in the attempts to be grounded to earth once more. So to hear that he was getting a new member that was as or more skilled than the one before, meant that the military was willing to sacrifice yet another valuable asset if it meant that his team was complete from every angle. A well trained sniper, hardy in hand to hand, a versatile team player yet nothing more than your skills were known. Similar to his lieutenant, you were an enigma. Not even a drop of ink was placed about your past and how you came about the military. Your file had a picture, a battle hardened soldier who completed every mission with ease and precision of high caliber, but no other name besides (N/N). You hadn’t been rewarded with a callsign, no one knew enough about you to even give a title to your talents, unlike Soap or Ghost. Price read up on your previous missions, but to his disappointment (or amazement), every debrief on the details stated that no one saw how you executed. It was always done and over with by the time the rest came to you, and it happens within mere seconds. A regal display of crimson red, a mural of your skill assets that leaves even your FTLs in fear of ever being your enemy. However, No one was ready for what was to come. For you’d gain a title like no other, a prestige as high as the greatest artist known to man, the difference being that it came not from art. But from your ungodly fits to kill and survive, a display left out to strike fear in any person who wronged you.
Price and his team sat in the helo, adrenaline slowly creeping along their nerves as they awaited for the pilot's call to jump. “Hope we get there in time, wouldn't be good if we found ‘em KIA. Laswell seemed rather fond of the enigma.” Ghost briefly spoke, an utter breath that Price barely caught. Nodding in response, Price wanted to see what you were. How you handled the predicament you were in, knowing full well if it was one of his men, that they wouldn’t even think of breaking. Could he blame you? Not even your platoon had knowledge that you were against a group of skilled mercenaries guising as cartels selling American weapons on middle eastern soil. He’d seen what they’ve done to the soldiers before you, they never made it home and if they did, it was a closed casket ceremony.
Needless to say you were in desperate need of saving if you even want to think of coming out alive. Ghost reminds the rest that they aren’t to hope too highly of your chances, another tag and body bag might be amongst them on their return. A slim chance that you’d even be crawling out that hellscape. It was a bad omen that Price hated, he didn’t like the thought of a rescue being a failed attempt before it even began. Before he could even try to save the person. The helo landed miles away from the building, too many for the team’s liking. It meant time was wasted traversing the dunes, and time was not on their side.
They managed to reach the building on the 14th hour, Gaz situated at a high vantage point and taking out any guard that would alert the others and prevent the team’s entry while Price and the other two got closer. Price split the teams, Gaz with him and Soap with Ghost. Ghost and Soap would make the initial breach, having that Soap was their demolitions expert. Gaz made his way to the other side of the building with Price to flank and surprise any enemies with the possible off chance of stumbling into you during the sweep. Over the comms, he gave the signal. A blast shook the building, he’d hear a handful of footsteps rush towards the other two, giving it a second before kicking the shitty metal door open. Entering the 4 story building, they cleared the first floor with ease before coming across a walkie talkie on one of the now dead tangos. “Goddamn it! Kill whoever that was, we need to handle-” the person on the other end was cut off and without a second for Price to ponder what the situation was, more enemies came barrelling down the steps, managing to count 6 as they entered a room for cover before a gunfight ensued. Soap deployed a 9 banger - a flashbang that would go off 9 times back to back - a headbanger experience for the poor dead men walking. Using that as a distraction Gaz took out 3 enemies before Ghost and Price eliminated the remaining few.
Ghost and Soap rushed to the second floor while he and Gaz went to the third. ‘Faster’ echoed in the back of Price’s mind. The team only managed to clear 3 rooms when a gut wrenching cry and a shot going off not long after was heard. It came from the fourth floor, He waited for the two below them and got into formation. Leading his men into the unknown, they hurried up the flight of stairs. Looking down the dimly lit and putrid corridor stood 4 rooms, only one of which was closed, something wet leaked from its crack but the lighting made it hard to distinguish what it was. After clearing other rooms of hostiles, Price had Gaz stand guard by the stairs, Soap covering his and Ghost’s six. His clothed hand slowly reached the grimy steel knob, twisting and pushing it open to find that it was locked from the inside. You had to be there, surely. He tapped Soap and motioned for him to breach with a thermite. Bracing for the explosion, the thermite goes off rattling who stood by the door no doubt, using the initial explosion as a distraction, Price enters.
He’d heard of soldiers crawling away from death’s grip, but nothing he’d seen or heard would have prepared him for what he had just walked into. Before Ghost could turn to clear and call out on the comms, Price stopped him and the other two from entering. A war torn soldier wasn’t an unusual sight but the horrors he’d just laid his desensitized eyes on was enough to remind him of what he once feared back when he was a young recruit in the SAS. A trolley with surgical tools and a lone pistol stood at arms reach of a small figure wearing a familiar uniform, hands busy with what he could only assume was the soldier’s face, chains jingling as they continued with what they were doing all whilst embracing the sun’s warm grace. That wasn’t what shook him, a metal table typically used to interrogate people stood to the right of the room. The chains that held you down were broken, the spot where the chains were welded to the center of the table had an upwards dent - you ripped the chains off the table with sheer force.
A man in surgical garments sprawled on the table, innards now turned out for all to see. A spectacle made out of human intestine, organs pinned outside the man’s body by multiple scalpels that went through the metal and blood viciously splattered around his corpse. Price wished he could say that was it but the gruesome art went beyond just insides turned out. The man’s entire nervous system was intricately laid out around his organs, decorating the entire table in a mix of thin blue threads barely visible amongst the puddle of red. The nerves still connected together in a web, not severed in any section, the extreme precision to carry such a brutal butchering left Price speechless. The scene was as if it paid homage to the Blair Witch Project, or worse a page from a sacrificial ritual. Price could only hope that the man was dead when all of this was carried out.
Another, laid on the floor not too far between the man on the table and inches away from the door. A pistol in his mouth, brain matter laid out on the ground, his face frozen with a plea for mercy. That was what he was standing in, and what had seeped out the door crack. Yet another lay in front the soldier Price was facing, neck snapped and his dead body laid to rest sitting up right by the wall in front of the aforementioned soldier, a metal rod shoved into his mouth and the sharp end had protruded out his torso. Price took another step forward before he heard a whimper to the left most corner of the room, their target - the head honcho of the operation - sat bare and huddled. His clothes on the ground at arms reach yet the man was too afraid to take a step forward. As though he would meet the same fate as his men if he took even a breath of air.
“(N/n)? It’s Captain Price, Laswell sent Task Force 141 to rescue you.” Price spoke softly, not wanting to surprise you, unsure of the current mental state you were in. Especially after what was laid around you and the torture you went through. “Are you injured?-” You didn’t answer, instead opting to slowly turn. Price made the right call, the state you were in was dire. “Ghost, call for exfil ASAP, (N/n) is alive but in serious condition.” Price called out to his right hand man with urgency and a slight tremble in his voice.
Your eyes. He’d thought that when he first met Ghost, that his eyes were the epitome of cold and soulless. But somehow yours went beyond that, for a lack of better words. A frigid cold looms behind those dull and matte black pupils, reminding of the cold he once faced during a deployment in Russia during a winter’s snow storm, striking his very core cold. Bangs sticking to your bloodied face by sweat and grime from the hours of torture you endured. A chunk of your skin hanged off your face, a knife cut and what looks like one of the man’s attempts to rip the skin out and off your face. It started right above your eyebrow traveling down to your lips. He was hopeful that it was repairable, it wasn’t a wide injury, barely missing your eyes and narrows down where it ended in the middle of your upper lip, still connecting at both ends to your face by what looked like a thin fishing line. You were stitching your skin back to your face. Your hand had a butchered attempt to stitch a wound close with one hand, nail beds down to your knuckles had trails of dried up blood. Uniform stained a dark red, mixture of your injured comrades blood from the fight and yours, the side of your torso had a big patch of blood. Sleeves rolled up, bright red burn marks running down your entire forearm, the man before you had branded you with the very metal rod that was now embedded in him. On your other arm were 12 lines stitched into your skin, 8 weren’t freshly stitched in, leaving Price confused and curious as to what it was.
END OF TORTURE SCENE
Price could see the soldier mouthing something softly. His ears strained to hear the soft word, or numbers when he realizes that you were counting out by tens and adding to a bigger number before repeating. The hours you were torture. He slowly approaches you, calling out to you. It took a solid minute for you to realize what was going on. Signs of a soul return to your eyes, glossing over as soon as you hear your name. Arms slowly raised to surrender and it starts to tremble when before they were as still as though belonging to the world’s best brain surgeon. Tears drip down your cheeks, face still emotionless. You were dazed. The sound of the chopper’s propeller came to earshot, fresh sunshine scalding your back through the glassless window.
Gaz calls out to Price, “They’re here! Let’s go!” Price immediately takes off his shemagh and drapes it over your head, covering your face before standing to your left. He gave you a shot of morphine he had on hand to help with the pain. Grabbing your left arm, wrapping it over his shoulders, bending both of you and carried you bridal style as you were in no condition to walk - your toenails gone from the torture and the piece of shrapnel still in your thigh, he could only imagine the pain you were going through. He carried you out the room, ordering his team to escort the two of you to the safety of the chopper. Before he could descend the stairs, you spoke softly. “My karambit. Find it, I can’t lose it. I won’t leave without it.” The team shoots Price a confused look before turning to each other. “What are you waiting for? You heard the soldier. Quickly find it.” Price commands, he feels your breath starting to get labored, he hurries the guys and tells Gaz to follow him out.
The medics on board administered emergency first aid, shooting you with a dose of adrenaline to make sure you stay awake during the flight. They had laid you down on a stretcher. Not long after you, Price and Gaz enter the chopper, Ghost and Soap follow suit with your karambit in hand. Soap walks to your side, kneeling before he places your Karambit safely onto your chest and grabs your left hand to be placed on top of the knife. “Rest easy now (N/n), you and your karambit are safe.” Soap shot you a comforting smile as he spoke with a tone to reassure you.
Beeping. You hear the sound of a heart monitor beeping to the same rhythm as your heartbeat, however it was muffled. Eyes fluttering open, squinting due the harsh and glaring light that was directly over you. Consciousness returns to your still body. A body that didn’t feel like yours, sore all over and strapped down to the bed, limiting your movement. Your vision blurred, you attempted to analyze the room. Aside from the continuous beeping of the heart monitor, the fluorescent lights that had basically served as a flashbang buzzed like white noise. Reminding you of the time when you were living in that shitty college dormitory, but there wasn’t that stale air that was permeated by the pungent scent of body odor from athletes who freely roamed the halls. Instead, it was the smell of disinfectant that was greatly welcomed. The A/C hummed quietly, you soon realized it was a hospital or medical bay that you were in.
Something was off. How did you get from that dry and sweltering room that was stained with the smell of mold and bodily fluids to this clean environment. You scrapped at your foggy memory, who came? Was it the military who came to your rescue or did the fuckers who tortured you, who sold you off as a token and bargaining chip to a client? Panic creeps up your leg, feeling it coursing through your veins. You quietly looked for a way to get out of your restraints, not wanting anyone to hear you scheming away.
Your eyes spotted a paperclip that was left right on top of your cover, probably dropped from a clipboard. You started to shimmy under the tiny metal paperclip, it inches to your reach and soon you popped it into your mouth to bend it in a way that allowed you to lockpick the 4 locks that held your restraints against the bed. You hurried, taking off the restraints that were on your hands and started to work on your foot.
You only managed to free one foot when you heard someone walk into the section of the medical bay that housed you. Your heart starts beating aggressively quick, the sensation made it as though your heart was in your throat and actively trying to suffocate you. Before you were able to formulate a plan, someone was sliding the thin curtain aside. "They should be out cold, that wasn't an average dose of sedative Capt. Had to get Alex to hold 'em down with me and he just got back too." Scottish man but he wasn't alone, you glared at the curtain to gauge how big the Scot was. Standing at 6'2(1.88m), nothing you haven't encountered, a build fit for a soldier. You weren't gonna take your chances though.
You leaned to grab the flower vase that stood tall on the bedside table, readying your other hand with the paper clip to fling it at the man as hard as possible once you distracted him. The curtain pulls back and sure enough he was distracted talking to the other person accompanying him. You threw the pot straight at the Scottish man's face, catching him by surprise and stumbling onto the ground with his hand on his nose. The pot didn't break, if you weren't trying to escape and it was safe, you'd be laughing in the back of your mind. Immediately turning your attention to the other man who merely looked at his buddy on the ground groaning in pain. You took that as a free opportunity to get the man. You flicked the paperclip hoping to at least get it embedded into the side of his neck.
However, to your horror, he leaned back just in time to dodge the clip. It pierced the concrete wall next behind him. Before you were able to do anything, he turned to you and pinned you down against the bed. Your wrists in his hands and above your head, you tried to pull away but to no avail. You started to buck your body against his, trying to get him off. This only causes him to yell at his comrade, who's whining and rolling on the ground in pain. "Soap if you don't get up and help me pin their legs or hell, even get the doc, so help me I will ensure the lavys are nice and grody just for you to clean till next month." The man that you almost stabbed in the jugular with a goddamn paperclip has his body on your torso, just so you’d stop struggling, had an annoyed look similar to a dad reprimanding his son for breaking a glass and not bothering to help.
“It’s Captain Price- Calm down Echo 2, we aren’t going to hurt you. You're back at base and safe.” Captain Price? Price? You heard of his name. Rodney had mentioned that name before, something about a transfer. You stopped fighting back, as he mentioned you’re safe now and realized you nearly killed a higher up, you apologized. He slowly got up, wary that you’d try to pull something. Especially after that stunt. “You had woken up several times the past few days, manic on several occasions. We had Soap watch over you in case you woke up and chose to attack the Doc.”
“Permission to speak. How long was I out? And are my platoon mates safe?” You asked after Price gave you a nod. “A week, your body was weak from blood loss. The doctors helping you had stabilized you. Removing the shrapnel in your thigh, stitching the remaining skin that you hadn’t stitched back onto your face, treating your stab wound and the burn you had from the branding. Your platoon was brought back safely thanks to you Sergeant (N/n).” It came back to you. The ambush during exfil, dragging injured man back, Rodney, the counting, the questions, and you don't remember much after that. Funny how it all went down within 24 hours.
The doctor came in with a Soap who wasn’t too happy to open the curtain. Doc ran a couple of tests to make sure you were clear for rehab. Your recovery was a speedy one and rehab was smooth sailing. The platoon came to visit you, those you saved came to show their gratitude. Some silently cried as you laid in the comforts of your hospital bed. You were still trying to register what happened, how you got 3 more stitches on your left arm. You had 8 on your arm from your past, marking those who wronged you.
One belongs to your deadbeat dad who abused you and your mother when you were younger, he died mysteriously. All you recalled was the newscaster covering his death as a brutal and grotesque murder that the nation had witnessed in years. Your mother knew what happened but she never disclosed that information, not to the cops and especially not you. You had stitched a blood red thread into your arm.
Another was a friend who left you to die after a crash that nearly rendered you paralyzed, you remember crawling with only your arms trying to get help.
Six belonged to each member of a jock clique who trapped you in the college’s equipment shed and took turns abusing you in too many ways yet you didn’t remember how. All you could remember was limping away in your tattered clothes covered in bright purple bruises that covered your body and a permanent red line that went around your neck.
The last one belongs to a guy who was close to one of the jocks, he somehow had entered your dorm room and attacked you after coming home from a long study session in the library. A scar ran from the back of your right bicep down to its shoulder blade. What amazed you was that you never remember what happened after those traumatic moments. All you knew were they’d end up dead one way or another.
You ran your hand over the stitches, something about it is soothing to you. Last thing you remember was seeing Captain Price walking up to you, and the mangled bodies scattered around you. Before you could get lost in your thoughts, Rodney came to visit. “(N/n)? How you holding up?” He pushes the curtain aside with his crutch and sits on the chair sat beside your bed. “As good as I can get Echo 1. How’s the leg?” The two of you made small talk, he told you that the rubble had broken his leg and that the medical team had to place a metal rod in there to treat the issue. He also mentioned something about gifts being dropped off and placed in your cage. Shocking considering you weren’t close to the team, “You know, if it weren’t for the bandages covering your face, I wouldn't know what you’re thinking. But your eyes speak volumes, it was thanks to you that we got to come home safely. At the expense of your own safety. I don’t think any of us could show just how grateful we are and could never repay you for it.” you didn’t say much, purely unsure what needs to be said. You simply reached for his shoulder, resting your hand on it. “Rodney, it's my job as much as yours to keep the rest safe. The least I could've done.” Rodney looked up at you with great admiration.
“I came here to let you know something. All I can say is that I left a good word in for you.” You were confused by what he just said and was about to ask what he meant by ‘left a good word in’ when he got up. “The platoon is waiting for you to fully recover, they want to head to the bar. I know what you’re about to say, ‘It's fine FTL, I’ll sit it out’. Not this time Echo 2, we’ll be celebrating your return before we get some down time.”
About 2 weeks after the incident with Captain Price and Sergeant Soap, you were given the all clear to head back to cages. The stab wound was still limiting your range of movement but at least you weren’t bound to the hospital bed or the confines of the rehab room. Being able to wear your uniform felt good, however you had to stop by the base’s surplus store to buy more balaclavas considering the huge scar on your face. You weren’t one who loved being stared at or given attention for no reason. When you walked in the surplus store, the lady working the cashier stared at you the entire time. You didn't hesitate to grab a couple pairs of gloves while you're at it. You immediately wore one of the all black balaclavas, walking out with a new cap as well, it didn't hurt to add a cap to your wardrobe, especially since you didn't want to look like a clothed bald. You chuckled at the thought, now you don't have to worry about your hair not meeting the requirements, you could even grow it out if you wanted.
You made your way to the cages, finding the aforementioned gifts on yours. The platoon had gotten you new clothes like multiple thin long sleeves to wear under your t-shirts or uniforms, balaclavas, a bunch of hats. A lot of gifts for a second in command that hadn’t bonded with the team much despite being with them for years now. What caught your eyes was a trophy, you picked it up. It reads ‘Best 2IC of the year’. You felt eyes staring holes into your back, “You guys know that you can’t sneak up on me right?” you turned to see the platoon hiding by the doorway, they came charging in. They picked you up and started to toss you up into the air, clearly happy that you were back. They never once seemed to like you until now, you can’t deny it, it felt good to feel appreciated. But you’d never show it.
They let you shower and change out to something more comfortable. You had chosen to wear some cargo pants, one of the thin long sleeves under a windbreaker you owned, not forgetting the balaclava and cap you bought. Once you changed, they carried you out to one of the trucks Rodney drove and hopped in after you. The drive to the bar was chaotic, the boys were singing alongside the handful of ladies who braved war alongside you. Music blasting through the truck, you could barely hear your own thoughts. The truck halts to a stop, now at the infamous bar that every soldier from base would frequent, The Old West. They were known for their top shelf bourbon and scotch. The guys dragged you in, the bar had an oaky scent that was somehow comforting. You and the platoon had taken up the biggest table and since the bar offered food, you ordered some mozzarella sticks to share with them. After sitting and chatting with the platoon, Rodney bought everyone a beer to celebrate. A cheer was called for and it being a weekend, the bar soon became loud with everyone joining in to cheer you guys.
After a while, you needed a moment to yourself. You had made your way to the bar, sat on one of the bar stools and had ordered a shot of vodka and a glass of whiskey. You didn't realize it but you were shaking, you weren’t used to being in a ‘huge’ crowd. Thankfully you had sat at the end of the bar and somewhat away from the noise. That's when you spotted Captain Price. He was talking to the bartender and hadn’t noticed you, how could he especially with how you looked now. And you’d like for it to be that way, still feeling bad for nearly killing him. You down the vodka with ease, nothing you weren’t used to considering how it was one of your many vices that helped you forget about the atrocities that you had committed over the years. You pulled your phone out to scroll the news, blankly reading it and enjoyed the whiskey.
“Care for another soldier?” Somehow you didn’t see the captain saunter his way next to you. The bartender had placed 2 drinks in front of you, that was the talk that he had with the bartender. Not wanting to be rude, you humbly accepted the drink. “At ease soldier, I'm here to enjoy a drink just like everyone else.” He turns to you and shoots you a smile. You simply nod. It stayed that way for the remainder of the night, with the occasion of either of you calling the bartender over for a refill. It wasn't as uncomfortable or awkward as you thought it would be.
Rodney spots the two of you and comes to say hi, “Captain, sergeant. Hope y’alls enjoy yourselves as much as the rest of the bar.” he chuckles, arm around your shoulder and beer in his other hand. “Hope this one right here will do you good captain, it’ll be sad to see ‘em leave. But it's for a better cause. Anyways, (N/n) the rest wants to leave in a bit, thought to let you know!” Rodney walks back to the rest, albeit a little wobbly than you’d like. You turned to ask Price what Rodney was on about but he was already up and had paid. ”Drinks on my soldier, see you the next time we meet.”
So many questions, yet nobody answers them.
A/N: Raiga here! This is the first chapter of the TOGF series, heads up that this will predominantly focus on your rs with Price, I might change the way this is heading as I do have a couple ideas on how to carry this story. I want to preface that the dynamic is not going to be too romantic. All this while writing my first GN! oh so many first! so do give feedback as it is greatly appreciated. If you’d like to be a beta reader, shoot me a message as it would help with releasing each chapter faster.
The first chapter was mainly to give you an idea of the ‘mc’s’ behavior. Sorry if it’s much, most of it is based on my experiences. So if you happen to dislike it, I wouldn’t fault you. But I do hope you are able to enjoy the story! I’m also trying to avoid having the boys be OOC too much, I want it to feel more authentic as it can get if you were to fall in love with your captain despite it being forbidden.
Till then, that’s all from me! Raiga out.
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Taglist;
@thychuvaluswife @tiny-kasper
#cod mw2#cod mw2 fanfic#captain price#captain john price#john price#john price x reader#captain john price x reader#captain price x reader#captain price x you#simon riley#simon ghost riley#ghost simon riley#lieutenant simon riley#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader
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JD's Squad
A few notes on the beginning of John's squad for Soldier On - this is not a finished list; just what I have for now. The Current Cast is John Dory, Delta Dawn, Dickory, Chaz, Pete (Retired), Tresillo (new) but this is just beginning thoughts.
Suggestions are welcome!
John spends any leave that he has to leave base with one of his squad - usually Delta or Dickory - although in the later years, he does do some camping. In the last few years leading up to the explosion and incident, Delta's sister became a single mother. John has stayed there to help out sometimes.
If he is not with one of his squad, he will usually find a camping spot to stay in while doing the odd and end jobs for locals to pass the time and a cheap price.
For a while, John just stayed on base when his squad was on leave and didn't take it when offered but eventually Delta and Dickory forced him to go.
John lives very simply with very, very few possessions so he ends up just saving a fair bit of money. He's been in the military for probably over ten years now. There have been a few guys that have rotated through their squad. Pete retired and was eventually replaced with Tresillo (they don't share rank though, it's just the numbers).
Chaz is talented but a bit egotistical and can be difficult to work with. Most people do not like working with him. He definitely rubs John the wrong way and although John can usually tolerate him, they have fought before. John has broken Chaz's nose. Which drove him nuts because the guy is a bit vain.
No one expected John and Dickory to get along, but they are actually pretty close. Dickory is the shortest of the group but he's strong and crafty. And not to be underestimated. His parents were immigrants and so he carries a fairly heavy accent. He's got a younger brother, Hickory, who he is close with. Hickory wants to follow in his brother's footsteps but Dickory thinks his talents lie elsewhere.
Growly Pete, as he was known as, didn't talk much but was a great shot and an even better survivalist. John took to it with his outdoorsy nature and wasn't very offput by Pete's quiet nature, so Pete took the time to teach him. He retired a few years before the incident.
Tresillo is a fairly new soldier who was given a choice - jail or the military - and he won't ever tell you he made the wrong one. He doesn't have much in the way of family and was kind of unruly at first but he's got more discipline now and he likes his squad a lot. Doesn't love being treated like a kid but he kind of gets used to the younger brother treatment. Great dancer. Taught John and Dickory Spanish.
Even before Pete left, John and Delta kind of got the dad and mom tag, being the responsible ones. JD took care of his little brothers for years and was kind of used to it and Delta is a natural leader. The mom and dad jokes are mostly kept quiet and behind their backs.
In the incident, John was the one with by far the most severe injuries. Delta wasn't there at all and when she does hear the news, she does feel a little guilt for not being there. It's dumb and John would tell her that, but still.
Tresillo straight up blames himself. Period.
Everyone involved is extremely tight-lipped about what happened and they won't talk about it. Sometimes a little with one another but that is about it.
John becomes especially mindful and protective of youngsters. This may include both minors and young adults. This mostly comes from protecting Tresillo during the incident, who to John, is seen as barely an adult. (This is also a bit of a nod/projection to how my horse trusted and protected kids when we got her before she ever trusted adults with her own issues.)
Tresillo probably won't stay longer in the military than he has to. The incident might even give him an out. It's not that he doesn't like the military, but the incident does freak him out and after what happens to John... yeah. Part of it is some guilt, part of it is that he doesn't get along with a lot of other people and he kind of doesn't want to. John and their squad became the people he got along with, trusted, etc.
It takes a while for Tresillo to visit John after what happens but when he does, he might stick around. I don't know yet. He and Branch do become friends.
The first time Bruce sees John with Clampers, for a second he thinks John knocked some girl up. And John is just...she's like... three years old. It's becomes kind of a joke.
John may or may not punch Chaz again after leaving the military.
Floyd finds out about John entirely by accident and it's awkward and weird. He does get a little upset that no one told him before this. (He mostly communicates by letters and hardly uses a phone and is constantly traveling very busy with his growing career).
Delta ends up finishing her tour but something happens that leaves her having to take care of her niece, Claudia (aka Clampers).
That's all I got for now.
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—LOVING YOU IS EASY
frat!jake seresin x f!reader
dagger squad college!au
summary: it's delta chi casino night and your doubts and insecurities find a way to ruin your perfect mood. good thing jake seresin is there to pull you from the depths of your mind.
wc: 2.9k
warning(s): 18+, fem!reader, no y/n (reader goes by nickname ace), descriptions of anxiety and a panic attack, self deprecating thoughts, a lil angsty but mostly fluff and feelings!!
part of the loving you universe || also find it on ao3 here
𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊, 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃!
You can’t pinpoint the exact moment you fell in love with him. It could’ve been that day when he chased after you in the pouring rain to give you a piece of his heart. It could’ve been when he stole the last bottle of Mountain Dew from Bradley because he knew how much you liked them. You can’t pinpoint the exact moment you fell in love with him, but you knew that the ever growing feeling you had for the man was love.
When he broke through the walls you built around your heart, it didn’t take much for you to fall utterly and completely in love with him. Any defenses against him were useless because he somehow managed to wiggle his way through the barbed wire anyway.
No matter how much you tried to deny it, you were weak for Jake Seresin.
Your eyes flit around the room, taking in the slightly tipsy college students that sat around makeshift poker tables. It was Casino Night and Delta Chi was hosting the event. Everyone in attendance was dressed to the nines. Boys in their nicest button ups and slacks, girls in their best evening dresses, and the rest in the most dapper outfits they had. Most of the people in the room were from other fraternities and sororities making the only people you really knew to be your boyfriend, his friends, and yours.
God, you got butterflies just from thinking of the word. Boyfriend. Jake Seresin was your boyfriend. You weren’t getting used to that any time soon.
You hung off to the side, opting to be just a spectator for the night. Your friends clamored and booed just to poke fun, but they knew these things weren’t really your scene. You catch Jake’s eye from the other side of the room. The way his gaze softens when it meets yours sends a rush of overwhelming emotion through you. Your stomach erupts in a flurry of butterflies and your heart beat picks up its pace in your ribcage. Every time he looked at you felt like the first time he said I love you.
He gives you a lopsided smile that accentuates the dimple on his left cheek. You wiggle your fingers at him in a small wave to which he cockily winks back in response. You playfully roll your eyes before his attention is stolen from you by one of his fraternity brothers.
Leaning against the wall, you sigh, once again admiring your boyfriend from afar.
“He’s so hot.”
The sudden company of a girl you recognized from Sigma Nu startles you. You turn to see who she’s looking at and of course, she’s eyeing none other than Jake Seresin.
You hum in response, taking another sip from your cup.
“I mean, seriously. A guy like that… I’m surprised no one’s staked their claim on him yet. Then again, Jake Seresin could have anyone he wants.” She pauses then looks at you with eager eyes. “Do you think I should go talk to him?”
The elated state you found yourself in a moment earlier came crashing down, bringing you back to reality. She was right, Jake Seresin could have anyone he wants.
How you were able to catch the attention of a guy like him was beyond you. The two of you came from two different ends of the spectrum. You were a bookish, studious, chronically sarcastic know it all while he was fun, charismatic, and quite literally the life of every party.
This girl who was absolutely stunning and looked like a supermodel was asking you if she should talk to your boyfriend. You should’ve said no. You should’ve stood your ground, “staked your claim” as she had said and told her that Jake was taken. That he was yours. Instead a weak, “I don’t know,” tumbled from your lips and so did your resolve.
The Sigma Nu girl fluffed up her hair and pulled up her top to accentuate her breasts before standing taller and giving you a sultry grin. “Wish me luck.”
Your blood turns to ice, leaving your feet frozen to the floor. There’s a small voice in the back of your mind screaming at you to follow after her. To pull her back by her perfect hair and tell her to back off. Maybe that was a bit extreme, but you couldn’t help the unfamiliar feeling of jealousy that rushed over you. You and Jake have only been officially together for a few months, but hasn’t she seen the glances the two of you exchanged all night? Hasn’t she seen Jake lovingly wrapped around you at Delta Chi’s parties? Couldn’t she tell that Jake only had eyes for you?
You trusted him. You trusted him with all your heart. You knew Jake would never entertain the thought of another girl and yet watching the Sigma Nu saunter up to your boyfriend with a lustful gleam in her eye and ill intentions, you were struck with the thought that even if he did entertain the idea of being with other girls you wouldn’t blame him.
Seeing how easily she wormed her way perfectly between Jake and Javy and the rest of the group as she ever so charmingly striked up a conversation between their fraternity brothers made your stomach feel queasy. Jake didn’t spare her a second glance, even as she reached out to caress his arm. He moved away from her grasp and stepped to the side to create some space between them. The action should have filled you with relief. Instead, you felt like you were going to be sick.
She looked so perfect interacting with everyone. Not a single thing about her was awkward or out of place. She fit right in with the group and looked so right next to Jake. She was the type of person you’d imagine Jake dating. Someone who could keep up with his charm and wit. Someone who was just as social and outgoing as he is. Someone who was everything you weren’t. So no, you wouldn’t blame Jake for ever entertaining the idea of being with someone else. Had you been in his shoes, you’d probably want someone else too.
Someone who wasn’t so bland. Someone who didn’t get overwhelmed by crowds and easily sick from the taste of alcohol. Someone who could stay up and party all night. Someone who wouldn’t hold them back.
It was foolish of you to think you could make Jake happy. Sooner or later he was going to wake up and realize he could find someone good, someone better.
The room suddenly felt like a sauna, the air hot and heavy making it hard to breathe. Your vision blurred with tears that threatened to spill from your eyes. Everything around you sounded like it was underwater. It felt like you were too. Your limbs were too heavy to move. You felt like your lungs were going to burst from not inhaling any air. You hadn’t even noticed that Natasha and Bob were standing in front of you and leading you towards the double doors until the chill of the night air put out the fire on your cheeks.
You gasp the moment you step foot outside, breaching the surface feeling like you could breathe again.
“Breathe Ace.”
You follow the voice like a siren call. Tapping your fingers against your thigh, you count every breath, remembering to take note of your surroundings and bring yourself back to the present.
A moment passes before your breath goes back to normal and your vision is no longer clouded. You can see Nat in front of you with her hands on your shoulders and her forehead is crinkled in that way it gets when she’s worried.
You wrap your arms around yourself as if finally realizing you were standing outside in the middle of the night without your jacket.
Natasha gives you a second to recollect yourself and your thoughts, leading you by the hand to sit on the concrete steps of the meeting hall. The concrete feels like ice against your skin, sending another jolt of chills through your body.
You begin counting again when you feel yourself drifting off. You get to forty five before Nat breaks the silence.
“It’s been awhile since your last one of those, huh?”
You swallow harshly.
Bob comes back out with a bottle of water in his hand that he gently offers to you. You give him a weak smile and take it from him, haphazardly unscrewing the cap. It falls to the ground but you don’t have it in you to care as you take a large gulp of water. Bob takes a seat beside you with Nat on your other side.
Even after drinking three fourths of the bottle, somehow your throat still feels dry. Your mind goes back to the reason why you were out here in the first place and you almost hurl onto the sidewalk. Images of Jake and that chick from Sigma Nu fill your brain and you can’t help but feel sick all over again.
Bob gets up at the sight of your flushed skin. “I should go get Jake,” he stutters.
“No!” You shoot up to your feet immediately, startling Nat and Bob. Clearing your throat, you state again,“No, don’t get Jake. Please.”
Natasha and Bob eye each other warily before ultimately deciding to respect your wish.
Nat nods, rubbing soothing circles onto the skin of your arm. “Okay, we won’t get him.”
A loud thud from behind makes your heart jump.
You turn to see Jake clamoring through the doors in a state of dishevelment. When his eyes land on your form, he lets out a sigh of relief. His shoulders fall and he hurries down the steps to get to you.
You know what he’s gonna ask before the words even leave his lips. Facing your back to him, you wrap your arms around yourself and say, “I’m fine, Jake. You don’t have to worry.”
“I’m always worrying about you, sweetheart,” he admits, settling on the steps beside you where Bob had once been.
Natasha nods her head towards the double doors, beckoning Bob to follow and give you two a moment of privacy. She knew from the moment she saw you clam up in the meeting hall that it had to do with Jake and Miss Sigma Nu. The way your stare locked onto the two and didn’t break until her and Bob practically dragged you away was enough of a clue. She just hoped Jake hadn’t done anything stupid, otherwise he’d have to deal with her.
Silence between you and Jake was never uncommon, however it was also never this unsettling. Jake knew the second you disappeared from his view that something was wrong. You never left without telling Jake or anyone else first. After asking everyone if they’d seen where you went, he was thankful that Reuben caught Bob and Natasha ushering you outside.
Without a second thought, Jake was on autopilot, dropping everything to get to you. Not even the Sigma Nu who whined about where he was going mattered to him. All he could think about is you.
Jake was wracking his brain for any reason for you to rush out like that. Has he indirectly done something to upset you? Did he forget something important? Were you sick and needed to go home?
You sniffle and wipe at your nose with the back of your hand before facing your back towards him once more. He knew it was something much worse. He hated seeing you cry. After making you cry as many times as he did before you got together, he swore to always be there to wipe them away and kiss you better. But he couldn’t even do that now as you purposely hide yourself away from him.
“That’s the thing. You shouldn’t have to worry about me all the time. You shouldn’t have to constantly keep an eye on me or be conscious of the time because I hate staying up late. You shouldn’t have to sacrifice your time out because I get too anxious in crowded rooms. You shouldn’t have…” Another sob climbs its way up your throat. “You shouldn’t have to deal with me.”
Jake’s heart breaks at your confession and he’s desperate to understand where these thoughts are coming from. Just a moment earlier, you were smiling and laughing at his antics which is why your change in demeanor took him off guard. Despite wanting to beg you to tell him what was going on in that head of yours, he knew that you needed some time. He took your trembling hand in his, intertwining your fingers and softly stroking the skin of the back of your hand in the way he knew you loved.
He bites his tongue and patiently waits for you to open back up to him. Tremors from the soft breeze continue to make your body shake so he pulls off his suit jacket and drapes it around your shoulders.
You unconsciously snuggle into its warmth, breathing in the familiarity of Jake’s cologne before falling onto his shoulder and burying yourself into the crook of his neck.
“You deserve to be with someone who isn’t dragging you down all the time,” you voice into the skin of his neck.
Your words are muffled but he hears you all the same. “What? What’re you talking about?”
You shake your head, sniffing once more. “It’s just… that Sigma Nu girl that approached you earlier? She was talking to me before that. Saying something about how you could have anyone you want and all that stuff. Then she went up to talk to you–”
“And you didn’t stop her?” Jake asks with amusement and curiosity.
“No, well, I tried but I couldn’t get the words out. You know?”
Jake nods in agreement knowing exactly what you meant. “Then what happened?” He coaxes gently.
“Then I saw her with you and Javy and everyone else. I think I understood what she meant then about you having anyone you want. She just looked so perfect with you all, like she belonged there and you looked so good together that I couldn’t help but think that maybe you deserved someone like that. Someone who isn’t a burden. Someone who fits into your world better.”
He frowns, and holds you closer with his free arm. “You know I love you more than anything, right?” You remain silent so he repeats himself again. “Right?”
You hum.
“Then you should also know that you’re my world. You.” He pulls away for a moment to get a good look at your tear stained cheeks and wide eyes staring up at him. “I don’t care if she looked perfect or if she fit right in. I don’t care about any of that stuff. As for having anyone I want, I’ve already got the one I want right here. It’s you Ace. From the moment we met, it's always been you.”
“But–”
“You’re not dragging me down. Don’t you ever think that because you’re the one who’s keeping me afloat. I mean, seriously, I probably would’ve flunked out by now.” A dry laugh escapes him.
You nudge him in the ribs. “Hey, what did we say about self talk?”
He smiles down at you. “You see what I mean? You won’t even let me talk bad about myself so what makes you think I’ll let you get away with it?”
“I’m sorry,” you squeak. You’re feeling better already, but you still aren’t completely convinced.
“Don’t be sorry, just believe me will you?” Releasing his hold on your hand he tilts your chin upward so he can get a better look at you. “Loving you is not a burden. Loving you is…” He pauses for a moment, trying to find the perfect words to articulate how he feels about you. “Loving you is easy. I never thought I’d be one to fall in love but you made it so easy that I didn’t even realize I did until I almost ruined any chance I had with you.”
“Jake…” Your eyes are welling with tears again. Not from sadness, but rather from the overwhelming feeling of gratefulness and love for the man in front of you.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he gingerly cups your face in his hands, wiping at the tears on the apples of your cheeks. “Loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever had to do. I love you, Ace.”
Pressing forward, your lips land on his and he could taste the salt from your tears as they continue to fall but he doesn’t care. You try to pull away, but he chases your lips and brings you back to him.
You giggle at his eagerness but push him back softly by the chest. You had to say what you’ve been dying to say all night. You were afraid you were going to burst any second now if you didn’t. “Loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever had to do too, Jake. I love you.”
The smile that graces his features is brighter than all the stars in the night sky as he rests his forehead against yours.
“Easier than your statistics class?” He jokes.
You press another kiss to his lips with a smile. “Even easier than that.”
Learning to accept that you alone were enough and worthy of Jake’s love would take some time, but you knew with Jake by your side, he would make it all a little easier.
a/n: a special ty to @natrace beta reading <3 ty for ur love and support
a/n2: if u made it this far, ty for reading!! i'm trying to get back into the groove of writing starting with my favorite pair of jake and ace. as always the inbox is always open and i hope you enjoyed this short but sweet installment of the loving you... universe
add yourself to my taglist!
tgm taglist: @joaquinwhorres @harrycherrylove @smoothdogsgirl @t-nd-rfoot @dempy @ollyoxenfrees @potato-girl99981 @averyhotchner @2guysonascooter @loveforaugust @blue-aconite @fandom-life-12 @stiles-banshees @iamdannyday @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @bradshawseresinbabe @breezemood @emorychase @eli2447 @angelbabyange @finelytaylored @pono-pura-vida @hecate-steps-on-me @blueoorchid
#jake hangman seresin#jake seresin x reader#hangman x reader#jake seresin x f!reader#jake seresin x you#jake seresin x y/n#hangman x you#hangman x y/n#hangman x f!reader#jake seresin oneshot#hangman oneshot#frat!jake seresin x reader#college!au#hangman x ace 📚#loving you universe#demxters writing
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“Random Clone Headcannons p.1”
These I made instead of working on my WIP for some reason but I have no regrets!
My ideas here are all over the place but please enjoy!
If you see any you like and such I’m planning to turn a few of these into full length writings so let me know!
Clones x reader pairing! (Platonic!)
• You cant tell me that if You had longer hair that so many Vodes would keep hair ties on their wrists for you
• Wolffe is the reason you have a deadly eye roll and amazing smart comments
• I feel like if you gained his. Trust you and Crosshair would be deadly on the battlefield- like he’d do the thing where he’d steady his riffle on your shoulder
• Jesse and Hardcase would beg you to show them some moves with your lightsaber, and honestly they aren’t terrible
• Braiding Tup and/or Hunters hair for fun. That’s it just think about it.
• You absolutely begged Rex if you could help to bleach his hair- finally giving in and needing a touch up he agrees to let you help. You don’t know how it’s happened but bleach is literally everywhere
• You and a few others were so excited to help the Wolfpack paint the “Plo’s Bro’s” and were so proud to stand next to Wolffe as you showed Master Plo for the first time
• Lake days with the 501st- just imagine. This I think will be my next WIP
• To say that you weren’t the best wingman for your brothers was an understatement you were amazing- Hardcase wouldn’t be anywhere without you. Playing match maker is so fun for the Clones and seeing them embarrassed is even better
• Rex can sleep anywhere. You’ve found him in so many different places just slumped. It’s become a tradition now that if you see him you’ll curl up by his side and get some rest and vice-versa (cause if Rex falls asleep you know you should be too)
• In your defense how could you not take those loth kittens back to Coruscant with you? Fox was a wonderful babysitter as you figured out where they could go
• You introduced wrecker to markers and now you take turns coloring small doodles on each others arms. Wreckers gotten pretty good over the last few times, and it’s alway fun to see the huge clone in training with a sleeve of colorful doodles
• You, Boil, and Sinker have always talked about taking you to get your first tattoo and you couldn’t agree more- Wolffe has to be the mom and shut it down pretty fast but one day soon it will happen
• Tech will teach you all these strategies to different games knowing at when you keep practicing he’ll have some good competition
• He has regretted this decision ever since you beat him once and his brothers and yourself hang it over his head all the time
• Delta Squad loves having joint mission with you and your battalion- Scorch can count on something interesting going down and Boss gets more gray hairs by the second in all the situations he has to get his squad out of
• So so so many nicknames it’s insane. They vary from who it is with Cody and Wolffes battalion keeps it sweet and simple with kid, vod’ika and Cyare where as groups like the 501st, Delta Squad and the Corries have unusual and creative names like Scrappy, shorty, and others
• Cold nights and everyone’s having a huge sleepover in the barracks- sneaking in and never sleeping more soundly then you have before
Hmm guess I could go back to my WIP but if you want a Part. 2 I’d be happy to make one!
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Taglist: @arctrooper69 @thereforepizza
#star wars clone wars#clone wars#the clone boys#the clone wars#star wars#my writing#toska-writes#captain rex#clone boys#commander cody#commander wolffe#fives and echo#the bad batch#501st battalion#commander fox#wolffe pack#bad batch#sergeant hunter#delta squad#corrie guard
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It’s delta squad time!
May I request something for sev being comforted by the reader perhaps after a mission doesn’t go well or when he just is in a bad mood because he feels like he can’t live up to standards and the reader comforts him?
thank you 😊
Comfort
Summary: Sev has a bad day and goes to you for comfort.
Pairing: Clone Commando Sev x Reader
Word Count: 739
Warnings: None
Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni
A/N: I know I said no other stories today. But, turns out, my vacuum is dying, lol. So here you go. A bonus story! Yay!
Divider by Saradika
You know that there’s a problem the moment you come home.
The small house you share with Sev is dark and quiet, and you almost think that maybe he went out with his brothers, if not for the fact that his shoes are sitting neatly on the shoe rack.
Your lips turn down as you hang up your jacket and slide your shoes off to set them neatly next to his. It’s not like Sev, keeping the lights off and the house quiet. He likes making sure that the house feels warm and welcoming for you…and you do much the same for him when he’s been away for several days.
Concerned, you head deeper into the house, navigating the house by memory, and so don’t bother to turn on any of the lights yourself. He’s not in the living room, although the curtains are open allowing the evening sun to steam into the house.
Your lips turn down a little more, and you turn to head into your shared bedroom.
And there he is, sitting on the edge of the bed, with his back towards the door. You shuffle your feet against the ground, making enough noise as to not startle him, you know better than to spook him after all. “Sev?” Your voice is soft, “Can I turn on the light?”
“I’d rather you didn’t,”
You pause, “May I join you then?” You don’t move from the door though, not until you get his permission, “You look like you could use some company.”
He doesn’t say anything for long enough that you consider leaving him to his thoughts, but then his back straightens, “Yeah, cyar’ika. You can join me.”
Your eyebrows shoot up. Him calling you cyar’ika is more telling about his mental state than he probably suspects. Sev normally calls you Princess or Angel, sometimes he might call you mesh’la or cyare. But cyar’ika is reserved for the days when existing is just too hard for either of you.
You cross the room and circle the bed to sit next to him, reaching out and gently taking one of his hands in both of yours. You don’t say anything, you just lift his hand to your lips and press feather light kisses against the pads of his fingers.
You’re surprised when he pulls his hand away from your lips, and instead brings both of your hands to his lips. “Sev?”
“I don’t deserve you,” He murmurs against the soft, uncalloused, skin of your hand.
“I don’t think that’s for you to decide, love.” You shift closer to him and press yourself against his side, “What’s wrong, Sev? How can I help?” You lay your head on his shoulder and turn your head to press a light kiss there.
He’s quiet for a moment, “I…it was a really hard day, cyar’ika.”
“Can you talk about it?” You ask softly. He releases a shuddering breath, and you change your question, “Do you want to just lay down and cuddle with me for a bit?”
He glances at you, “I think I’d like that.” Sev admits quietly.
You gently extract your hands from his grip, and encourage him to lay down on the bed, and you immediately curl up next to him and pull his head to your chest, so that his ear is pressed right over your heart.
You card your fingers through his hair, and hum a wordless tune, a lullaby that your mother used to sing to you. You feel him relax under your gentle touch, and his arms snake around you to hug you tightly. “Will you talk to me, cyar’ika?”
You smile at the top of his head, “Today, at work-” You begin, your voice soft and soothing. And as you tell him about your day, he relaxes more and more, until his breathing evens out and he falls asleep on your chest.
You continue carding your fingers through his hair, and you know that he won’t remain asleep for long. He never does. And maybe, just maybe, when he wakes up he’ll feel up to talking.
You curl your arm tightly around him, and shift to press a light kiss against his temple. “Oh Sev,” You murmur, “I hope you know how much I love you.”
You’ll pull the full story out of him in the morning, when he’s feeling more like himself. But tonight? Tonight you will offer him whatever comfort he needs.
#star wars#tcw#clone commando sev x reader#sev x reader#star wars fanfiction#x reader fanfiction#answered asks
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Rescue
Pairing: delta squad x female reader (platonic), Sev x female reader (romantic)
Summary: Delta squad has to rescue you when you're taken while they're on a mission
Warning: Sev threatens to kill one of your captors, torture (not descriptive), mentions of slavery and sex work, language, that's it
A/n: I've never read any of the clone commando books so I apologize if I didn't get the characters right. I'm just kinda going off on what I've read from other people's fanfics
"Where is she?"
The Zygerrian laughs as he answers Sev's question. "You're too late. She's long gone by now. Probably been sold already and pleasuring one of my brothers as we speak." The Zygerrian laughs again but immediately stops when Sev punches him.
Sev pulls out his vibroblade and pulls the male by his fur as he holds the blade to his neck. "If you don't tell me where she or your cronies have gone I will slice your kriffin throat without hesitation." The Zygerrian spits in Sev's face and stares at him. "I'm not telling you shit. So go ahead and kill me. Your girl is gone forever."
Sev was about to tear him apart when Boss comes in. "What!?" Sev breathes heavily as he continues to hold the blade to the Zygerrian's neck while he waits for whatever Boss is going to say to him.
"Come take a breather. Let Scorch or Fixer take over." "I'm fine." Boss sighs and Sev hears him come up behind him. Boss bends down and whispers loud enough only for Sev to hear his words. "You're not in your right mind, brother. He's never going to talk if you keep this up." Boss was right. Sev needed to take a step back. Boss takes a step back as Sev straightens up and Sev places the blade in the Zygerrian's leg. The Zygerrian screams out in pain but Sev does nothing to lessen to pain. "Hold that for me, would you?"
Sev follows Boss out of the room and curses are thrown his way but both of them ignore their hostage. Sev takes off his helmet and sets it down on the table before pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.
The team had been on a mission so you stayed behind as Sev had said it was too dangerous and that you could get hurt. While it had been true Sev didn't think that the danger would still find you. He was dead wrong.
They had come back from the mission and found their ship torn apart. Sev instantly panicked and went to find you but turned up empty. They searched for you in the nearby woods to see if you were hiding but had no luck. Since then Sev had been going out of his mind as the team continued their search for you.
When they got word from an informant that there were slavers in the area they checked it out and found one of the Zygerrians. They managed to subdue him and brought him back to the abandoned building that they were using when they started looking for you.
Hours later and Sev was still not getting answers that he was looking for. Boss puts a hand on his shoulder and Sev looks up at his brother. "We'll get her back. I promise." Sev knew that Boss was only trying to help but right now nothing he could say was helping to reassure him.
Scorch and Fixer walk up to them. "Did he say anything?" Sev nodded his head. "No. He's not going to cooperate with us." Fixer cracks his knuckles together. "Don't worry. I'll make him talk." Fixer and Scorch walk to the room and lock the door behind them.
Soon Sev and Boss could hear screaming coming from the locked room but chose to ignore it. The Zygerrian chose to lay down in his bed and now has to pay. Now all Boss and Sev have to do is wait patiently.
Thirty minutes later Fixer and Scorch come out and Fixer heads for the sink. he takes off his gloves and cleans them off before washing his hands. Sev paces a little as he looks at his brothers. "well? did he say anything? give a location to where they're holding her?"
Scorch nods his head. "Yeah. Said that they were keeping her in a small place on the other side of the city. He also said that they'll have at least five to six people guarding the place and more in the building." Sev grabs his helmet. "Let's go." Boss sets a hand on his arm. "Hold on. We need a plan if we're going to rescue her. We can't go in blind."
"fuck the plan. I've waited long enough. I'm going to get her back with or without your help." Boss takes Sev aside. "You need to calm down. If we go in there blind we could end up getting hurt. Or worse. And I'm not even going to mention what could happen to her if we do." Sev stays quiet. He knew that Boss was right. If something happened to you Sev wouldn't be able to bare it. "Okay. Let's make a plan." Boss nods and the four of them make up a rescue plan.
You sat quietly on the bed that you had been placed on by the men that took you. When they first found you you hand been outside admiring the plants and taking pictures of them with your holopad to show Sev later and collecting data on them. When you saw them come out of the trees you ran inside and they came after you. You threw everything at them that could get in their way but they had eventually caught up to you. You tried every fighting technique that you had been taught by delta squad but the zygerrians caught you and subdued you.
They were able to tie your arms behind your back and they also placed something over your eyes so that you couldn't see their faces. Once they had you in their grasp the Zygerrians brought you to wherever you were now.
You could hear a couple over in the corner talking to each other and others outside the room. Then you hear footsteps come your way and you panicked. The Zygerrian touches you and you flinch away. He laughs at how scared you are.
The Zygerrian that touched you said something in his native language that you couldn't understand but you had a feeling it had to be about the way you flinched or something inappropriate. The others laugh and you sit far away from him as possible. Taking you from Delta squad had been their first mistake. Now, if you were harmed in any way, these men wouldn't stand a chance against them, especially with Sev on the team. You were his sarad (flower) and if another man even thought about looking your way Sev would have their head.
You continued to sit there when all of a sudden there was shouting coming from outside. What was happening? Whatever it was it raised suspicion with your captors. There was more screaming and shouting and you could hear the zygerrians scrambling to get their weapons.
You could hear the leader of the group giving orders in their language and then it was just the two of you. He walked over to you and grabbed your hair. You let out a yelp as he held you close to his face. "If you make a sound I'll kill you. Understand?" You nodded and he let go of you. You sat in the corner on the bed and prayed that whoever it was didn't kill you as well.
Sev took out another Zygerrian before joining his brothers. When they arrived at the building you were being held at it had gone smoothly in the beginning until one of the zygerrians came out and spotted them. Fixer took him out but soon more had been sent out at the arrival of the team.
They successfully made it inside but more and more zygerrians came at them. They really didn't want to give you up. "On your left!" Scorch took out another Zygerrian that was coming at him and joined Sev as they did their sweep. They looked in every room for you but so far came up empty. You had to be around here somewhere.
They joined Boss and Fixer on the next floor and saw that they had one of the zygerrians. "I'm asking you one last time: where is the girl?" Fixer held his blaster to his head as Boss stood face to face with him. The Zygerrian finally cracked at gave them their answer. "Two floors up. She's in the last room."
Boss nodded at Sev and Sev and Scorch ran up to the floor that you were being kept on. Sev was closer to you than ever now and once he has you back he won't be letting you go.
You heard shouting coming from outside followed by blasters going on. You became frightened and struggled a little against the rope that was keeping your arms bound behind your back. Whatever was about to happen you didn't want to be a part of.
The shouting was outside the door of the room and you could feel your heart racing. You could hear the leader of the group stand up from where he was sitting and his weapon being picked up.
The noise from outside stopped and the door slid open. "I'll kill her." The weapon he was holding was pointing your way and you silently listened. You were now afraid for your life and you didn't know if the person that showed up was friend or foe.
Whoever it was didn't care as they shot at the Zygerrian and he went down. You heard footsteps and you panicked as you tried to make yourself small. "Please. Don't hurt me." The person approached you and you could hear them laying down their weapon on the bed and the sound of a helmet coming off
The person touched your shoulder and you screamed. "It's me, mesh'la." You sat there for a moment as you took in his words. "Sev?" Sev takes your blindfold off and you let yourself adjust to the light. Once you could see clearly you saw Sev looking. "It's okay. I got you." You cried as Sev cut the rope and you threw yourself into his arms.
Sev held you close before pulling you away and placed a kiss on your lips. You were visibly shaking and Sev pulled away once again. He brushed your hair out of your face and held your face in his hands. "Are you okay, cyare?" Your lower lip trembles and more tears fall onto your face.
"Shhh. It's okay, my love. I got you mesh'la. I got you." Sev wipes your tears as the others wait for the two of you outside the room. He places a kiss on your forehead, cheeks, lips, and finally one last one on your nose. You giggle a little and Sev was happy to see you smile. "There's my girl." He picks you up and holds you in his arms as he carries you out of the room. As all of you walk out of the building you hold onto Sev and bury your face in his neck. You missed him and the scent of him.
That night you and Sev curl up together in his bunk. The two of you were inseparable since you had been rescued and you didn't mind one bit. You were happy to be back with your clone lover.
The two of you hold each other and as you close your eyes you let the lull of hyperspace pull you and Sev into a deep sleep.
Tagging: @techs-stitches @anxiouspineapple99 @sev-on-kamino @wings-and-beskar @moonlightwarriorqueen @cw80831 @sunshinesdaydream @523rdrebel @dystopicjumpsuit @deejadabbles @multi-fan-dom-madness @rexxdjarin @the-rain-on-kamino @the-bad-batch-baroness @sinfulsalutations @eternal-transcience @starrylothcat
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Theory:
Clone Force 99, Omega, and Emerie Karr are the 6 Null ARCs embryos that "died" from Republic Commando.
Note: This post will be connected to another theory post I'm writing about Palpatine's failures in cloning.
Proof:
1. CF99 refused Order 66. Crosshair shot Lt. Nolan. Emerie helped release Crosshair. We don't even need to talk about Omega.
Null ARCs are well known to be independent thinkers and resistant to command.
From Wookipedia:
When the Kaminoans began cloning, they produced twelve prototypes, designated as Null-class Advanced Recon Commandos. Their extreme physiological modifications killed half of the prototypes during gestation. The "enhancements" to the Fett genome handicapped the survivors with erratic behavior and an inclination toward disobedience, making their loyalties unpredictable. Kal Skirata, a Mandalorian warrior who had been brought to Kamino to assist in the training of a special unit, concurred with the Kaminoans' rationale behind "modified" troopers; an "unaltered" Jango Fett was not the ideal infantry soldier. Disappointed with the unsatisfactory results of their wayward creations, the Kaminoans deemed 12 of the first 100 prototypes complete failures and intended to kill them
They're also very loyal to those who are loyal to them.
Other regular commandos followed Order 66.
2. In Republic Commando, the Kaminoan scientist Orun Wa created the Null ARCs. This is what he said about them:
Highly intelligent, deviant, disturbed—and uncommandable.
In Season 1, Episode 1, Tech says this when AZI says they're defective clones:
We're more deviant than defective.
3. The living Null ARCs numbers and the "dead" Null ARC embryos' numbers.
N-5 ("Prudii")
N-6 ("Kom'rk")
N-7 ("Mereel")
N-10 ("Jaing")
N-11 ("Ordo")
N-12 ("A'den")
Missing are Ns 1-4, and Ns 8 & 9.
Clone Force 99s designations are likely CT-9901-9904. We know that Crosshair is CT-9904. They are Ns 1-4, respectively.
Omega is N-9. She's the last experimental clone Nala Se took for her experimental unit.
That leaves Emerie Karr as N-8.
4. Omega is a defective clone, and it has nothing to do with her being an unaltered clone.
Nala Se also says she's a defective clone to Tarkin. She specifically tells him that five genetically defective clones are all that remain. This excludes Echo. He wasn't genetically defective. This also excludes Emerie Karr. She's with Dr. Hemlock by this point in time.
If Omega is one of the Null ARCs, she wasn't created unaltered. She was created with accelerated aging like all the others.
Her accelerated aging is broken. She's not older than the rest of CF99. She's the same age.
I suspect she started out aging rapidly, like 99. That was Omega's genetic defect. She remembers everyone else in the tubes but being outside of them herself.
Omega was an experiment too. Nala Se figured out how to turn off accelerated aging to keep her from aging too fast.
This also mirrors Republic Commando. The Kaminoans at one point knew how to slow aging. Kina Ha is proof of that. She was engineered for long hyperspace journeys, but those never came to pass. That particular trait wasn't really needed anymore after that and was abandoned.
Slowing down the aging of clones isn't a good idea for the Kaminoans financially, after all. You want your buyers to keep buying.
(I also find it interesting that both Nala Se and Ko Sai had hidden underwater research labs).
All of Ko Sai's research was destroyed by Ordo (to Ko Sai's knowledge, anyway. They kept a copy). Nala Se's research would have been destroyed with Kamino, except a living copy remains. Omega.
Omega only appears unaltered because her broken genetic defect was fixed.
Nala Se theoretically knows how to slow/stop aging, and Omega is a genetic template for that.
5. Probably the flimsiest proof. Delta Squad exists in canon.
It's not out of the question to believe that Omega Squad and the Null ARCs could be pulled into canon as well.
I'm personally interested to see if Bo-Katan gathers any Legends Mandalorian clans. If any Clan Skirata members show up that could help this theory.
#tbb speculation#star wars speculation#tbb theory#star wars theory#star wars#the bad batch#the mandalorian#tbb spoilers#mandalorian spoilers#republic commando#repcomm
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25 Days of Life Day: Day 9 - Life Day Pranks with Delta Squad
Summary: You and Scorch play a prank on Boss, it doesn't go well.
Pairing: (Sorta) Delta Squad x gn!Reader
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI; Implied that they're all into the reader, Grumpy!Boss, Rude!Vau mentioned, slight angst
A/N: I KNOW this is SO late lol. BUT the urge to do a part two eventually is SO strong. Anyway, it's still the holiday season at least, and I'm going to take the course of the winter to do these so maybe it'll help with my seasonal depression? Idk anywayyyy here we go.
You and Scorch have spent all day wrapping the ship as a little prank just for Boss. Sev had said if you pranked him, him being Sev, he’d kill you. But he had slightly smiled when he said it, so you knew he wasn’t serious. You’re Sev’s only soft spot. But Boss… Boss is a hardass. You’ve never even seen the man smile.
“A little higher.” You call up to Scorch as he hovers over the ship with his jetpack.
“Got it, cyar’ika.” Scorch calls back down to you as he flies up a bit higher and tapes the final piece of wrapping paper over the top.
It was perhaps the greatest prank any squad has ever come up with. And you’ve seen the goofy pranks of the 501st. They’re pretty good… but this? Classic.
“Boss is gonna kill you, you know.” Sev’s deep voice purrs to you as Scorch lands.
You and Scorch glance at each other with a grin and both say, “Worth it.”
Sev just shakes his head and joins Fixer on the crates. You and Scorch attempt to find something else to keep you busy until Boss comes back from whatever he’s doing.
An hour later, Boss comes walking into the hangar, his helmet in one hand and looking down at the datapad in the other. And he nearly drops both when he looks up at the ship.
“HAPPY LIFE DAY, BOSS!” You grin.
“Take it down. Now.” Boss stares at you.
Your grin falters slightly and Sev notices. Nonetheless, you try to keep your cool.
“Oh, come on Sarge. It’s-” Scorch starts but Boss silences him with a glare.
“Defacing GAR property is your idea of a prank?” He stares down at you, angrily.
“I think if it’s able to be taken down, it doesn’t count as defacing, right?” You start, crossing your arms.
Honestly, he’s taking it worse than you expected, which is almost a little embarrassing. You’d expected him to just roll his eyes and shake his head. Dammit… Sev is going to give you such a hard time.
“Maybe if you spent as much time working on your medical skills as you do these silly pranks with Scorch, you’d-” Boss starts to fire off but Sev steps in between the two of you, backing his brother up.
“Go get something to eat, Boss. We’ll clean this up.” Sev mumbles and you look at him, wide-eyed.
You’ve never been yelled at by Boss before. In fact, this broodiness seems a little out of character even for him.
But still, you can’t help that your feelings are hurt. And you definitely can’t help the lump in your throat or the slight tremble of your bottom lip. You don’t notice the hard stare that Sev is giving the sergeant as you go and start to pull the wrap down off the ship. And you also don’t notice the disapproving shake of Fixer’s head as Boss walks past him.
See, what you don’t realize is all of these Delta lads really care for you in their own way. Especially Sev, who more than cares about you, but doesn’t know how to tell you.
“Lemme help, cyar’ika...” Sev murmurs as he ignites his jetpack and flies up to the top of the ship, ripping the wrapping paper down until it all falls over you, making you laugh.
He smiles down at you, bright teeth and all. Something you don’t see often. But he loves the sound of your laugh. They all do.
Fixer and Scorch come and scoop all of the paper and toss it into a bin across the hangar.
“Don’t let Boss’ grumpy ass get you down.” Sev tells you.
“You’re one to talk.” Scorch teases as he walks by.
Sev’s middle finger goes up, making Scorch crack up. You laugh with him, but then realize that you’ve seen Boss this grumpy before. When Vau chewed him out really bad and made him feel lesser than.
“Oh…” You murmur. “I’ll catch you guys at dinner. I gotta go do something.”
“Alright.” Sev nods, watching you walk briskly toward the barracks.
When you reach your barracks, the doors slide open and you find Boss standing over the desk by the window overlooking the Kaminoan Sea. He’s looking down at his data pad, but slightly lifts his head when the doors open, barely acknowledging you.
“Are you okay?” You approach him, slowly.
He grunts out a ‘yeah’ and you know you should leave it at that, that you shouldn’t meddle. He’s never been forthcoming with his emotions before, why would he now?
“Whatever Vau said to you today… doesn’t define you, Boss… You’re… a really great leader. I wouldn’t rather follow anyone else.” You look down at your feet. “I know he’s unnecessarily hard on you. But you’re better than him.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He murmurs.
When you look up, he’s turned around looking down at you. You go warm under his stare, probably from embarrassment from earlier.
You shrug, standing your ground, though. “What I said is still true.”
His eyebrows go up ever so slightly. You’ve made it weird, you realize that now.
“Anyway… I just… wanted to tell you that.” You murmur and start to turn to leave.
“I’m… sorry about earlier.” He tells you, making you pause to look at him again.
He’s looking at you with a softness, an almost sheepishness.
“Thanks.” You smile, softly.
He nods. “You’re a great medic… Wouldn’t rather have anyone else stitch me up.”
Your chest tightens at his kind words. Two times today he’s been uncharacteristic.
“Let’s eat.” You nod to the door.
He looks back at his holopad.
“Doctor’s orders.” You smile, making his chest tighten.
“Sure thing, Doc.” He smiles slightly for the first time since you’ve known him and you feel like it could be a Life Day miracle.
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