#julien ferrel

[empire-at-war]

KINKTOBER DAY 25

kink of the day: Uniform

additional kinks/warnings: dirty, messy sex

characters: Vic and Julien :)

A/N: yes, I occasionally ship my own OCs with each other. These two are bitter exes who still think about each other a lot, apparently.

here’s some amazing art of these two idiots on Nar Shaddaa

***

Right off the top of his head Vic could tell several stories in which thinking with his dick had gotten him in big trouble. He'd gotten shot once, stabbed and beaten up several times, and one time he had ruined a marriage and an intergalactic trade agreement, all because of one, amazing blowjob in an elevator, but none of those incidents could even begin to compare to the mistake he was about to make right now.

“That wasn't part of our deal.” Julien's voice was steady, but he didn't LOOK steady. More importantly, Vic realized he hadn't said 'no'. “Deals change.”

Julien retreated back to his stupid desk and turned his back on Vic. He was clearly stalling, busying himself with taking off the white gloves that went with his immaculate dress uniform. “I just.... I can't.” He didn't seem able to elaborate. His shoulders were tight with tension. Vic was strangely calm. He always was, once he had reached a decision. A few long strides closed the gap between them. Granted, this was the worst decision he had ever made. The absolute worst. But Vic had never been one to half-ass things. “Vic...”

Part of him knew that he should leave right now, before he went too far and there was no going back. He knew this, but instead of taking a step back, instead of punching Julien in the face as he had imagined himself doing so often, he grabbed a fistful of the immaculate white fabric and pulled the bastard in for a kiss.

The beard was new. It was surprisingly soft against his cheek. Vic had expected some resistance, some protest at least, but the lips under his parted eagerly for him, or perhaps desperately would be the better way to describe it.

The soft little moan that escaped Julien's lips definitely sounded desperate. He had closed his eyes, and only when Vic loosened his grip and released his jacket, did he open them again. Had they always been this green? Julien was panting, lips red and parted, face flushed a dark crimson, but he still didn't say 'no'. Vic let his hands run up and down the uniformed chest, stroking the brass and tracing the starched collar with his fingers. His hands were greasy, and left visible marks on the pristine fabric. He couldn't recall seeing Julien in a white uniform before, but he had to admit it looked good on him.

“You're getting my uniform dirty,” Julien complained, his voice a bit too shaky to have any authority.

“Looks like I am,” Vic laughed, leaning closer until he was only inches from the pale blonde hair on Julien's neck. The skin above the starched collar was sticky with sweat. Not one hair out of place on the admiral and his stupid imperial regulation haircut, but he actually shivered as Vic leaned closer. Damn. Last chance to step away and walk out now...

“You're going to get it all messy....” Julien's voice got even more shaky and thick with arousal. Vic could see the bulge starting to form in his uniform pants, and he knew for some reason that as soon as he touched it, he would have crossed some imaginary line. There would be no going back. “So? You always liked it when I made a mess on you.” Vic chuckled, sliding his hands lower to hook into the belt buckle. “Didn't you?”

“That's ridiculous. I don't want your dirty hands on my things,” Julien lied, the strict face he was trying to pull off failing as soon as Vic pushed his own pants down and took himself in hand, giving his cock a few long strokes. The expression on his face when he saw the piercing was very satisfying, Vic wasn't going to lie, he loved the way Julien's eyes widened and his mouth fell open. There was a little voice in the back of his head telling him that this didn't make sense. Julien should have seen him pierced before, shouldn't he? But he pushed that thought away and rubbed his cock against the pristine white fabric of Julien's pants, enjoying the way the admiral's ears turned red too.

Something was off about this, Vic could sense it, but he couldn't bring himself to think too much about it right now. This felt too good. He couldn't stop. He stroked himself faster and was consumed by the fantasy of finishing all over Julien's pretty uniform, the one he was so proud of, to cover the bastard in his cum and…. There was a loud noise, a beeping. That didn't make sense either. Wait. What was... Before Vic could finish jerking off, the blaring alarms of his ship tore him from his dreams. He sat up on his bed, cursing violently, before he jumped out of the bed and dragged himself to the bridge to deal with the situation, trying to ignore his throbbing cock and more importantly, what he had just seen in his dream. Whom he had just seen.

That bastard was just going to continue to make his life miserable, wasn't he? Even after all those years.

[empire-at-war]

For Vic: 25. how do they feel about where they are at in life?

If you had asked a few days ago, he would have said that he's doing fine. Everything's fine. He's just collected a fat bounty and that means he's actually not broke at the moment. Just had some repairs on his ship done. Actually thought about coming round to Nar Shaddaa and doing a few jobs for Tal, just to see Anne and Gida again.

Unfortunately you are asking today and...

He's currently sitting on the cantina floor. Very drunk. Having an existential crisis. Trying to decide if he should message Hel for a booty call or Zim for.... well, mostly for talking I guess. He definitely doesn't want to talk about Julien though. Why would he ever want to talk about that bastard.

[empire-at-war]

February Day 2

prompt: failed rescue attempt

character(s): Julien and Vic

A/N: I never finished the story of how Julien's kids got kidnapped and he hired Vic to get them back (it's been years at this point), so this is my chance to write a few scenes I had planned for them... here's some amazing art of these two idiots on Nar Shaddaa.

~~~

“I don't care how many there are. We have to go back!” Julien made an attempt to squeeze past the heavily armored bounty hunter and get to the door. Unfortunately the heavily armored bounty hunter had no intention of letting him through. He made one step to the left, efficiently blocking the ship's only exit.

“Vic! We have to go back, we almost had them!” Julien was aware that he was almost screaming, that his hands were balled into fists. He looked up at the helmet's dark visor and cursed the man he had hired to protect him. Cursed him for his cowardice. For his callousness. For wearing that fucking helmet so he couldn't even look him in the eye.

They could have saved his kids. They had been so close. So close. He had to go back, if there was even a chance that they were still out there.

Julien's face hardened when there was no reply or reaction, desperation making him bolder than he had ever thought possible. The blaster was in his hand before he knew what he was doing. Jaw clenched, he pointed it at Vic. “Get out of my way.”

Had he been able to think more clearly, Julien would have realized he didn't sound very threatening, with his voice shaking uncontrollably. Also, he would have probably realized that pointing a blaster at a heavily armed bounty hunter was a fucking stupid idea. Even if it was just Vic. Or especially since it was him?

Up until that point Vic hadn't moved from where he stood in the doorway. When he finally made a step towards him, Julien all but expect to be punched in the face. He knew he wouldn't be fast enough to dodge.

The bounty hunter lifted his hands to his helmet, took it off slowly. “It's too dangerous to go back.” He didn't sound angry, just... tired. Defeated? “You'll die.” There was an unreadable expression on the big man's face.

“Please. Vic.” Julien no longer cared that he was begging. He expected Vic to say something along the lines of "I can't let you get killed. If you're dead, I wont get paid.” What he didn't expect was the bounty hunter sighing and stepping aside to let him through.

“Fine. If you want to die, I won't stop you.”

.

First chapter of Ghosts from the Past can be found here.

[empire-at-war]

Whumptober drabble #12

I managed to get two classic Star Wars lines into this one. I feel so accomplished.

Vic and Julien - prompt #23: Bleeding Out

Vic cursed under his breath. His hands were working methodically to stem the flow of blood staining the imperial uniform, making a puddle on the floor. Deep down he knew his efforts were in vain, that a wound like this was usually fatal, but he just couldn't stop himself.

He looked up into the familiar face, even more pale than usual, still full of pain. The panic was gone now, had been replaced by something calm. They both knew.

A bloody hand reached out towards his helmet. “Take it off...” Julien said in a voice that was growing weaker by the second. “I want to see your face before I...”

You're not going to die, Vic wanted to say, but that would have been stupid and he didn't want his last words to Julien to be a lie. The bloody hand grasped his, squeezing the glove with barely any strength left.

Vic swallowed as he removed his helmet, trying to think of something to say. The smell of blood hit him as he breathed the unfiltered air, and Julien's laboured breathing was suddenly incredibly loud in his ears.

There was so much he wanted to say, and nothing that really mattered any more. “I...” He had to stop there, not trusting his own voice.

Julien had closed his eyes. “I know.” The idiot was smiling, despite the pain. 

[empire-at-war]

truth or lie for Julien

1. He sometimes cried when he was a kidbecause he was so lonely.

2. He has never kissed anyone in space.

[empire-at-war]

More random drabbles (1)

inspired by the

Random Plot Point Generator:

Whatever your character is unwilling to do, they might be willing to do after two six-packs and a fourth of gin.

featuring @lhunuial‘s Zilar and Julien, guest appearance by @kaosstar‘s Saselea

~~~

Julien was aware that he was blushing furiously as Saselea said goodnight to her lord. He couldn’t stop watching as they kissed passionately right in front of him. The way Zilar’s fingers brushed against her arm was a promise, the way he looked at her as they finally parted made all the blood from Julien's face rush somewhere else entirely.

She winked at them both as she went to bed, clearly amused by the way Julien was fidgeting in his seat. Why did she have to leave them already? Julien was almost 100% sure the evening would end in a disaster. He was far too drunk not to embarrass himself. And he was not nearly drunk enough not to care.

Julien tried not to look at the alien Sith, with whom he was now alone in the room, so he distracted himself with filling their glasses again. He was quite obviously sporting a hard-on, those damn uniform pants did nothing to hide it, and he was sure Zilar had noticed.

A soft touch against his knee made him jump. “Are you sure you want to stay?”

Wow. Zilar's voice was so smooth and his lips looked so tempting. Julien licked his own lips, remembering a different dinner party. Oh damn. He shouldn’t have thought of that kiss right now.

Zilar's white fingers brushed against his beard, pulling him back to the here and now.

“Yes, I'm sure.” His own voice sounded so high pitched. And quite drunk. “Quite sure. I mean, yes, I'm sure I can leave if that's what you want. I mean if you want to.....”

Thankfully Zilar decided to shut him up before he said anything more embarrassing. With his mouth. And the Empire be damned if he didn't still taste of Saselea.

[empire-at-war]

Somebody is having a really bad day on Nar Shaddaa.

[empire-at-war]

Ghosts from the Past 1/?

in which Vic gets a job offer from an old acquaintance

 ~~~

“Citizens of the Empire....” the leader of the Imperial squad began, but his voice could hardly be heard over the noise in the cantina, a myriad of alien species shouting over the blaring music. He was clearly not used to citizens who just downright ignored his arrival. A warning shot into the ceiling only turned a few heads and caused a few muted whispers of dissent.

“Damned Imps.”

The soldiers behind him began to get a little nervous, sensing the growing hostility in the cantina. They weren't exactly welcome here in the seedier parts of town, and they knew it.

“You there, freeze!” The squad leader shouted at a pair of drunkards having a fist fight behind the bar. They came to a stop. One of the two delinquents, a huge man in a worn-out jacket, had the other in a headlock, eyeing the dozen or so blasters pointed at him warily.

The officer squinted at the ruffian, checked a datapad, then lowered his weapon slowly.

“Are you the bounty hunter? Vic Greydon?”

The man swayed a bit, spitting out a mouthful of blood before he answered. “What if I am?”

“Then we are to inform you that a job is waiting for you at planetary high command.” His lips pursed in distaste, showing exactly what he thought of that fact. “Please follow us.”

“Do I have a choice?” The bounty hunter finally dropped the other guy who had passed out by now, casually putting his hand on his belt right next to his blaster. He seemed far less drunk than he had a few moments ago.

“There's a reward for your cooperation,” the squad leader assured him. He just wanted to get out of this dirty sinkhole as fast as possible and carry out imperial justice in a more civilized corner of this town.

A big grin appeared on the man's dirty, tattooed face and his hand dropped from his belt. “Why didn't you say so right away.” A lot of tension seemed to go out of the cantina's other patrons at his words. “Give me a second to get my stuff and we'll see what your boss wants from me, eh?”

~~~

About an hour later, Vic's good mood had soured considerably. He stood in the office of an Imperial Admiral, stone-cold sober by now, surrounded by the same squad that had picked him up earlier that night. He didn't bother to keep the cold anger he felt from creeping into his voice.

“I said, I'm not going to take a job from you.” He folded his arms in front of his chest. “There are plenty of hunters on this miserable rock. Don't see why you had to drag me all the way up here when you already knew my answer.”

Julien went on as if he hadn't heard him. “Twenty thousand. And a bonus if you can keep quiet about it.” His uniform was stained and crinkled, as if he had slept in it, but then he also looked as if he hadn't slept in a while.

“I said, I'm not going to work for you,” Vic repeated coldly. He swallowed the rest of his words. Telling Julien to go fuck himself wouldn't be terribly smart, no matter how satisfying it would be.

The admiral sighed and turned to his men. “Leave us.”

“Sir? With all due respect, do you think that's wise?”

“I said, leave us.” The squad leader was clearly worried that his presence was the only thing keeping the bounty hunter from punching his superior in the face, but he obeyed his orders, albeit reluctantly.

Now that the room was empty except for the two men, the silence between them became more and more uncomfortable with every second that passed. Finally Julien swallowed his pride and took a step forward.

“Okay. Listen. I'll pay you whatever you want,” he implored, no longer bothering to hide his nervous, shaking hands behind his back now that they were alone

“Not for twenty thousand. Not for forty. Not for all the credits on Nar Shaddaa.” Vic couldn't believe the words coming from his mouth.

“That doesn't sound like you at all.” Julien sighed and looked down at his hands. “From what I've heard, you could really use the money...”

Vic growled and closed the space between them, towering over the much smaller man. It wouldn't be worth the trouble he'd get if he actually punched an Imperial Admiral in the face. It would feel good though. Really fucking good.

Julien swallowed but he stood his ground, unblinking, determination warring with exhaustion on his face. “Sixty thousand.” He sounded desperate, and for a moment Vic wondered what it was that drove this bastard to seek out HIS help of all people.

“Please, Vic. I need your help.” There was something in his eyes that made Vic relent. That and the son of a Sith had been right. He could really use the credits right now.

“One hundred. Plus the bonus.” That was ridiculously high for a single bounty, and Vic fully expected the bastard to haggle over the price.

“One hundred thousand credits. We have an agreement.”

Vic found he already regretted his decision. “Who do you want dead?”

“It's not something like that.” The admiral slumped back into his chair, all strength gone out of him. “They have my kids, Vic.” His voice was barely a whisper. “They have my kids.”