#Cad Bane's hands | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sinisterexaggerator · 3 months ago

Note

May I offer you my Cad Bane masturbation fic in these trying times?

Cad Bane alone on his ship, lets his mind wander, to that soft mammalian skin and warmth, how easy it is to bit and mark with his teeth...

Trigger Happy

Pairing: Cad Bane x Cad Bane / Cad Bane x Cad Bane's hand? / Cad Bane x AFAB(Fem) Reader

(Screenshot by @renek-bane)

Word count: 4.2+

Warnings: Explicit. 18+ / NSFW for: Masturbation, hand jobs, autoerotic asphyxiation and belt play, choking, gagging, strangulation, double-duros dick, boners/erections, alien anatomy, self-lubrication, boy pussy (bussy?) touching oneself, xenophilia, mammal kink, and fantasies involving biting, blood, blow jobs, brat taming, pheromones, marking, PiV sex, and finally ... ejaculation.

I.E. Cad Bane masturbates to the thought of reader.

Cad Bane's casual ensemble inspired by @deepbluespace4's amazing artwork. What a perfect outfit to relax in.

[AO3]

***

The bone chilling, fathomless darkness of deep space could penetrate just about anyone both physically and mentally should you not have your head on straight before taking to the stars.

In the early days, Duros were some of the first spacefaring species, navigating across unknown territory with barely anything but the clothes on their backs and the stories they passed down, generation to generation. Bane thought it must have been unnerving, for there would be no one around to hear you scream if it came to that.

Of course, nowadays there was the convenience of hyperlanes and comm units built into ships. Perhaps help was never too far off, though he wouldn’t know anything about that, seeing as in his line of work he preferred to remain under the auspices of scrambled codes or encrypted frequencies.

Allies were few, far, and in between, trustworthy associates even fewer, and friends were nearly nonexistent, save for his little confidant, a droid. Droids could be programmed. Droids were loyal unless something interfered with their ones and zeroes. He did not have to worry that Todo might change his mind one day and stab him in that back for profit. That kind of behavior was reserved for those of flesh and blood, not precious alloys and electronic circuitry.

Yes, his was a lonely, boorish existence except the times when it was not. Had he cared to, his own stories would more than entertain a listening ear for hours on end, recounting his various misdeeds to propagate his legacy, for even he would not live forever, though possibly in the minds of man if he were lucky. He had already reached his own potential, and the only place to go from here was down.

There was the time he had held the senate hostage, negotiating his terms with the Chancellor himself. He had got away clean though his work had been cut out for him. Still, it was something to be proud of.

Then, there was the time he had stolen a Jedi Holocron for a dark lord of the Sith right beneath the nose of a dozen Jedi, not to mention the subsequent kidnapping of force-sensitive children, though the pay was more than commensurate for the job. Besides, he had no qualms with handing over a few younglings – it meant less goody two-shoes, lightsaber wielding bastards to deal with in the future. The fewer there were, the better it was for business, unless the business itself was killing Jedi, then he might as well have gone and karked himself.

There was an idea.

Bane initiated the sequence that would pull the Justifier from hyperspace into realspace, decelerating from lightspeed so that his starship could putter to a crawl. He scanned the parameter with sensitive detection equipment, the Duros some five parsecs from the nearest planet. He was alone out here, as was in his favor.

He relaxed, kicking one boot off as he placed his bare foot up on the console, finally allowing himself to breathe. His toes wriggled in a much-needed stretch as his vision adjusted to the sight before him. The blue of pseudomotion, the façade of the broadening and expansion of varying astronomical objects, it could be a bother on the eyes for when you just wanted to decompress. The stillness of the void was always a welcomed sight, no matter how daunting or disconcerting it could be if you allowed yourself to dwell on its reality.

One thing about space, is it is cold. Luckily for the Duros he had the foresight and the know-how to equip the Justifier with an internal heating system that rivaled the warmth of Tatooine should he require it. Nothing like basking on a rock when you couldn’t control your internal body temperature. He made up for that with his insulated suit in foreign atmospheres, yet here he could be at peace long enough to adorn simpler attire – it was nice to forgo the armor once in a while, and what better place than “home.”

Still, his scaled flesh bristled beneath his sparse linen tunic, subdued in coloration as per his usual, though soft to the touch and comfortable. It allowed his limbs more freedom of movement, as well as the absence of his gadgetry.

“Bane,” Todo cut in through the communications console, calling to his master from his place within the confines of the ship. “Why have we slowed down? Is everything all right?”

“Felt like it,” the hunter gruffly responded, not in the mood to answer any questions. At times like these, times when he wanted to be alone with himself, even the presence of a non-sentient with the ability to speak could be a nuisance. “Worry about de inventory. Figur’ out what we need te restock.”

“I was only asking. No need to be rude. I am at your service, after all,” the droid responded curtly, Bane accomplishing the task of getting him off his back, if only for the next few standard hours.

The Duros adjusted the angle of his hat, took the time to roll up each of his sleeves in turn, then activated the Justifer’s holomap to get a better idea on his position, a single wave of his hand and a pinching of his fingers easily manipulating the spherical planets in the nearby vicinity to his liking. He zoomed in on one in particular, roughly fifteen light-years away. It would take no time at all to reach with the aid of his hyperdrive, yet he chose to coast merrily along.

The current bounty he was after resided elsewhere, a dirtball in the Mid Rim Territories by the name of Aloxor. His potential score was last seen in the city of Tiquwe, a hotbed of criminal activity sheltering a plethora of pirates, though this planet, Inusagi, was in a quadrant not too far from his destination and home to a creature fairer than any other he had ever laid his eyes upon: you.

Inusagi was a planet rich in culture and art. It benefited by being in close proximity to other wealthy locales, such as Naboo. You were an avid collector of precious artifacts and priceless objects, a person of high class.

Bane let his mind wander for a spell. Human women were fodder for the imagination. There was something about their soft mammalian skin, the way it radiated warmth, a thing he often craved. Their breasts, two doughy prominences located on the upper ventral region of a female’s torso, serving as mammary glands to aid in the feeding of young, yet he could not help that he wanted to heft their weight in his hands. That thought only broached the surface of his musings.

Duros had no such features, including the small projections known as nipples by and large – they were unique to those descended from primates as far as Bane was aware, though he was sure there must be exceptions to the rule.

And then there was you.

You were a perfect specimen, putting the rest of your species to shame with a simple glance or a toss of your lustrous hair. Those lips - so full, lush, and sensuous - they had no business doing anything that wasn’t at the bidding of Bane himself, though he was always hard pressed to get the response he desired – one of willful obedience. Though, he had to hand it to you – a night with you was never dull.

Bane knew better than to expect anything less than mouthy backtalk. It was part of the game you liked to play. You always put up a fight just for the kark of it. You thought him egotistical, repugnant in a sense, and Bane had to earn his reward, though he thought the trouble was well worth it, and the ordeal itself added a little flavor to the whole affair.

Someone had stolen something of yours – you had paid him to get it back, and then some. From then on anytime he was in the neighborhood he had made sure to check-in. However, not this time. Unfortunately, he could not allow the trail to go cold, no matter how badly he may have wanted to pursue you. Taking a detour was not an option.

In any case, you were fickle, outspoken, brash by all definitions of the word. A brat for lack of a better label, one he had enjoyed breaking in like the proud wrangler of an untamed mare - a beast of burden that could take his cocks just as well as the load that came with them, though the longer he stayed away, the easier it was for you to forget your place – on your knees.

Bane groaned, a low and gravelly sound, accompanied by the slow dispersal of carbon dioxide from his lungs. His loins began to stir of their own volition, though it was his fault for lingering on the image of your face, your curvy body. One hand moved languidly, not in a hurry to address his needs as he had put them off for quite some time. He only knew it to be a necessity to keep his head clear, Bane gently cupping the bulge that had begun to form in the seat of his dark trousers.

The gathering of intel, the calculation of astronavigational coordinates, the hunt. All these things kept the Duros preoccupied, but there was no purpose in denying himself a bit of enjoyment since he had the opportunity, and there was no telling when he might get another chance.

Oh, to bathe in the delicious scent of your fragrant pheromones, to be able to bury his olfactory organs into the strands of your full mane - and your neck. You always left it so open, so defenseless, exposed to the elements, hair pulled away from its nape in an elaborate coif upon his visitations, for you knew – you knew what you were doing.

The hand that rested upon his lap was forced to move. Bane desired the friction, massaging the protrusion of his organs that had started to emerge from the slot of his groin. Hard-ons were practically unbearable when he was suited up, threatening to puncture the insulation of his suit only to be stopped by the sheer density of the material in its way.

At this juncture, Bane lounged, his phalli lengthening themselves by several inches, though he did not yet allow himself to fully surrender to the figurative brain that lived below. He slowed his breathing, focusing on the stars beyond the windscreen with heavy-lidded eyes. To give in too soon wouldn’t be as fun as nursing himself more leisurely.

His thoughts returned to the curvature of your throat, the smooth surface where he oftentimes found himself embedded to the hilt of his sharp canines. His carnivorous, predatory nature demanded he taste of the life-giving fluid that helped sustain you, sweeter than the most delectable vintage of Alderaanian wine, redder than the saber of a Sith, and warmer than the once tropical waters of his home planet, though a far distant memory for his kind.

The pungent aroma, the tangy savor, the way you feigned a struggle though the echoes of ecstasy that left your lips easily betrayed the depths of your true feelings. The sound alone, like a small animal caught in the jaws of a killer; you were prey, and he found himself more than once wholly immersed in your performance, the mere recollection causing Bane to emit another low-key lecherous moan from the bands of his vocal chords.

By now the ache beneath his outspread palm had increased to proportions that could not so simply be ignored. His gloves had long since been removed as they had no express function being on his person during the few hours he tried to unwind and loosen up. He dislodged himself long enough to unbuckle his gundark leather belt, undoing the fastener at his waist.

Bane continued his undressing by clasping the stop of his zipper between the vertices of one blue digit and his thumb, teeth separating in increments and ending at the base of the closure. The Duros had chosen to go commando within the safety of his ship, nothing currently preventing the spanning of his sex save two thin flaps of fabric he now parted by sliding his fingers beneath their paltry woven barrier.

The remembrance of your blood flowing from his mark, dripping along your tepid epidermis to course towards the swell of your perfect tits caused Bane to finally touch himself, one massive hand reaching, searching out his double-cocks as the tips of his stiffening members had pushed their way through his body’s opening. They were accompanied by a thick slick of lubrication that was natural for his ilk, Duros already ready and raring to go without the aid of another’s personal branding. The sheen was sticky yet clear, and pleasing to the tastebuds, or so he had heard.

Bane caressed the heads of his steadily growing erections with a thumb twice the size of any human’s, already a scant seepage trickling from the slit of one cock as he further stimulated himself, his personal reflections wandering back to the near flawless, photographic visual of you he kept secret within his mind’s sharp eye. Not only that, but your palatability, the texture of your skin – it was as if he had only left you yesterday.

Salty undertones mixed with seraphic sweetness, your feminine form honeyed as well as your words, beseeching him to dominate and deprive you of your meager willpower. You could not resist him once it began, once he had wormed his way into your ignoble desires, Bane easily capable of destroying your resolve with a sole act of endearment.

Perhaps it would be the almost indolent stroking of your cheek, or a rigid, authoritative grasp of your chin as he watched you imbibe the whole of his cock. The other might happen to be tended to by the firm flexing of your fist as you whined, spittle leaking and covering your orifice in an obscene veneer. It would cause the hunter to grace you with a sneer of paradoxical ridicule, for his carnal appetite for you was common knowledge.

With both cocks now fully engorged with green blood, Bane encapsulated the entirety of himself within the center of his palm. Elongated, reedy fingers cinched closed over his dual girths - they were more than a handful, but that had never stopped him before.

Bane duly pumped his dicks to the thought of your parted lips forming a ring around his ribs and crests, his own ridges gliding succinctly along by the calculated movements of his wrist. His organic lubricity aided him in gradually picking up the pace, the point of his tongue glossing the peaks of his fangs as he licked his top lip upon the way.

He rasped out a hiss between now gritted teeth, exhaling deeply as he applied thoughtful strokes, the underside of his fingers toying with his own oily effusion as he carefully teased himself. Who was to say how many times he had done this before?

Bane slouched deliberately in his highbacked captain’s chair, leg bending further as that one foot remained atop the nearest onboard computer terminal. His unoccupied hand took to digging into the muscle of his thigh, reminiscent of something you might do from your undoubted position on the ground as you clung to him.

Your nails often left scratches, or caused him to bleed. Under any normal circumstance drawing Bane’s own blood was a reason for a swift, merciless death, yet he found he enjoyed the pain, enjoyed watching your face contort in the throes of passion by doing nothing more than glutting yourself on all he had to give.

He didn’t have nails, or talons of any sort. He was not able to reproduce the same effect though his head leaned back against the headrest of his chair, his floppy hat giving way as it folded beneath him. His lascivious gesticulations intensified in fervor, recalling how as soon as you had guzzled your fill of his seed from one phallus, he had impaled you with another, sheathing himself in the velvety wetness of your throat to the cusp of your oropharynx until you had nearly choked.

You had complained verbally in the form of a lewd mewl between gasps for air, yet your chemical secretions told another story, the one of the ravenous hunger you had for the hunter whose cock was jammed inside your pretty mouth.

Bane’s nimble hand moved from where it rested upon his sinewy leg for his fingers to twist and manipulate the hidden seam of his tunic. Digits nestled into the groove, pushing the fabric apart into two halves as he fondled the firm pectorals of his own chest. His hips bucked in his chair in a measured rhythm as he drove the meat of his ass into the cushioning beneath him, his scales cool to the touch though all parts of him felt warm, if only an illusion.

He further divided the bits of cloth until they hung open, a sigh reverberating through a jagged exhalation. He indulged himself, fingers traipsing, gallivanting to-and-fro as they roamed the expanse of his abdomen in an almost loving gesture; a gift that no one else could give, for that meant he would be leaving himself assailable in the presence of another, and there was no excuse for that. None that could be forgiven should he wind up dead.

Hot and bothered was an understatement, Bane’s hold tightening on the shafts of his cocks as he compressed them together, repetitively sliding them back and forth between the curvature of his palm. His slick made it easy, semisoft pads moving upward to brush sensually perpendicular to his sternum, grazing the cleft between his pecs until he crossed his left clavicle, finally seizing his own throat between the crook of his thumb and forefinger.

The breathing apparatus, the tubes that prevented Jedi from crushing his windpipe into pulp or depriving him of oxygen, had in this rare instance been discarded. Bane’s dexterous, willowy extremities mimicked what the sensation might feel like, cutting off his flow of air as they skirted the span of his neck to sweep below the sharp angles of his jawline. They groped tightly, fingertips burying themselves snuggly in the tender place beneath his mandible, Bane baring his fangs as his lips once more separated, testing the limits of this new, perverse restriction upon himself.

Cad was well-versed in the source of his own pleasure, staying to either side of his esophagus so as not to irrevocably harm himself in the process. This type of thing, when on offer, was a compliment – a way to give or receive control to or from your partner. Bane liked to remain in control at all times. He would never allow anyone to put him in such a vulnerable position. No one except himself.

Strangulation so close to an orgasm could beget an almost euphoric effect, yet it also coincided with profound psychological implications, Bane taking on a role in the privacy of his own starship of one who was submissive, if only a façade. The fact he could easily end his own life should he go too far was at the forefront of his thoughts - too far, or not far enough for this particular example.

Still, he tried. His grip constricted more compactly around his throat as the fingers of the other hand clenched into a fist. The speed with which he wrested himself amplified, imagining the rapturous sounds of your muffled cries as he filled your belly with his sperm.

It should have been enough, this… fantasy. This total relinquishment of his defenses and the bitter taste of urgency influencing his ardency as his body crept closer and closer to climax, though something was lacking.

His chokehold released, both on himself and on his cocks. He hastily latched onto the buckle of his leather belt, yanking it through the loops as it cracked, the accessory moving faster than the speed of sound in the millisecond it took to remove so that it prompted the auditory breaking of the barrier. He was quick to strap it around his neck, shackling himself by refitting the buckle. He hurriedly tossed the free end around the head of his chair, pulling on the bit of material still slack in order to jerk his head backward, the increase of pressure more than he could have hoped for.

Once accomplished, he returned to work on himself, pulling the belt taut as he gagged to the thought of you nearly choking, though on the width and length of his foreign anatomy – foreign to you, a bitchy little human woman with a warm core, a burning fire that irradiated from your epicenter. Your body might as well be undergoing nuclear fusion deep within the interior of your nexus, comparable to only one thing in the galaxy that he could think of - a main sequence star.

To plunge himself into the plush ravine of your moist sex, for his cock to warm itself in the bowels of your cunt clenching around him as you greedily explored his body with your hands. All tongue and teeth, sultry fragrances and smolder, sweat clinging to your scorching hot skin as you bade him hither to the brink. And then there is the thing that pushes him over the edge – the way you shout his name to the rooftops, not caring who might hear, and it is just as well, for he would not have it any other way.

That single syllable thrown in with an exclamation, your fragile heart beating rapaciously behind its wall of ribs, red blood churning and coursing through every limb apparent in the pulsating of your arteries. Your excitement is palpable to Bane, and not just in the expression upon your face, but the glow, the expansion of your capillaries to his naked eye. The less pigment a sentient’s skin held, the easier it was to see them blush, and he relished when your cheeks went pink as you caterwauled like a Loth-cat in heat.

“Oh, Cad!”

He could hear it as clear as day, his first name ringing in his ears in your sing-song voice, followed by the wet squelching of your throbbing cunt as you came all over his spiney reptile dick.

No one ever dared to do that – call him by his forename. For you to have the guts for that was quite impressive. To his surprise he found he liked it, though he would make damn sure you did not make it habitual, keeping such things for the time you spent together in your boudoir.

Bane’s scales teemed, like being thrown out onto the terrain of Hoth with nothing on. His own cuspids bit down on his bottom lip, fingers grinding into the device around his neck as he wrenched it forward. His comprehensive, impeccable vision started to go black as he saw a flicker of light in the corners of his eyes. He sensed his own blood pressure dropping rapidly at the same time he rutted against the air as if you were physically present.

The daydream of splitting you apart until you couldn’t walk a straight line kept him at it, the flames in his belly having danced upward, starting from the floor of his testes, a reservoir of semen waiting to be discharged by the overwhelming culmination of all things considered in the here and now, not just figments of his eidetic memory. He pounded his dual cocks like there was no tomorrow, his breath coming out in throaty seethes, agitating his members to the point they were ready to blow like the active volcanoes of Mustafar.

In his enthusiasm and ill planning, Bane had not prepared for this. There was nowhere for his load to go, and it was too late now to contemplate the cleanup. It could wind up one of three places: his lap, the floor, or his ship’s console, though the latter sounded dangerous. With his last bit of coherent thought he dropped the strip of leather around his throat, instead taking up his hat from off his head before he pulled the trigger.

His vision partially returned, lungs filling with air, breath ragged and labored as his ejaculate spilled from both cocks in an asynchronous torrent accompanied by a fragmented wheeze, a disquieting, dissenting hisssss, and a displeased frown as the bowl of his bolero filled with his cold cum.

He fidgeted more than necessary, unhooking the buckle from around his neck and letting the damn thing fall to the floor. He held the base of his hat in the middle of his palm, chest rising and falling at intervals as he allowed his now empty hand to rest idly on his stomach.

He sighed an irritated sigh, gazing out at the stars once more, soon after regaining his equilibrium. To some, the speed of his recovery might be imposing, but in his line of work stamina in all respects was a boon.

After a moment of recuperation, red eyes glanced downward with a tilt of his head, Bane peering at the contents of what he had left behind with a scowl. He tsked, carefully setting his dusky bolero upon the floor so that he might lean back in his seat. It was a nice hat, that much was certain, but it’s not like he didn’t have plenty more where that came from.

---

Masterlist

Cad Bane Masterlist

#cad bane #cad bane x reader #cad bane x himself #cad bane x cad bane's hand #duros #star wars #star wars smut #clone wars

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caprisun89bakerstreet · 4 months ago

Text

How can I be guilty as sin?

Ch.1 - What if he’s written mine on my upper thigh only in my mind?

୨⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯. ༊*·˚‧ੈ₊˚ ೃ࿐ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯୧

Series summary: the 5 times you almost told Obi-Wan about your feelings for him and the 1 time it slipped out

୨⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯. ༊*·˚‧ੈ₊˚ ೃ࿐ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯୧

“You never kiss anyone.”

“You’ve never seen me kiss anyone.” He corrects you and you want to crash his speeder for saying that.

୨⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯. ༊*·˚‧ੈ₊˚ ೃ࿐ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯୧

Pairing: obi-wan kenobi x jedi f!reader

Wordcount: 5.0k (got out of hand oops)

Chapter summary: the council got a tip that Cad Bane will be at a bar on Coruscant tonight. You and Obi-wan are send to capture him but a few drinks in your feelings for him are distracting as you start to get jealous

Tags/trigger warnings: alcohol, being pulled closer by stranger but is quickly resolved, reader gets jealous, protective obi-wan, forbidden love, yearning

Notes: this is not exactly finished but i’m too lazy to go through this and edit it again. And i spend too much time searching up in-canon alcoholic beverages—the things one does for writing a fic. Nowhere near perfect but anyways enjoy~

You were sitting in the Archives, looking through all the information available about a certain bounty hunter. One you disliked. A lot. Because you’ve already met him one or twice, and Cad Bane wasn’t the type you were ecstatic about to meet again. The Jedi Council got a tip from their contacts that Cad Bane, someone they’ve been trying to capture for months now, would be at a bar here on Coruscant tonight. The Durasteel Den. And you were assigned to capture him. Spitting through his information you don’t learn much else to your credit. He’s a bounty hunter. What did surprise you however is that he had recently kidnapped children. But there weren’t any clues as to why. The thought made your stumach twist. But there was someone else coming with you on this mission.

“Did you find anything?” You suddenly hear a familiar voice and turn to Obi-Wan standing behind you. If you could’ve bottled the sound of the warmth in it, his accent and the way it spread tingles through you, you would’ve gotten drunk on it every night. It would be stronger than the finest corellian whiskey that’s for sure.

“He’s bad with children.” You wildly understated as you look back at the screen with a frown. “But not much we don’t know already. I doubt we’ll need to know about his ‘babysitting skills’ if we’re leaving tonight.” You said, and felt Obi-Wan lean over your shoulder to look at the screen. Blast, why did you always feel as if there was an overwhelming force trying to escape the carefully locked insides of your heart whenever he’s near? You try to not turn your head to the side. Though part of you wanted to, just because he’s so close and maybe if you were living in a different time you could feel his lips brush over—-

“Ah. He enjoys making things difficult.”

“And he doesn’t know when to quit apparantly”

The chuckle that came from Obi-Wan then was the light of your darkest days. He moves away from you and places a hand on your shoulder as he looks down to you.

“I have to attend a meeting in a few minutes. But I’ll meet you at the landing platform tonight.”

“Right, see you later. And good luck.” You add casually and Obi-Wan gives you a look.

“You’re unbelievable.” He tells you with an amused smirk and walks away. And you can’t stop the grin that’s spreading on your face.

It was finally getting dark outside. The Coruscant skyline was illuminated by all the speeder lights for the famous nightlife the city has to offer. Sometimes you wonder how there even was a Jedi Temple on the planet being covered by infrastructure of a giant city. The only living Force being that of the millions of beings rummaging through the streets. From high class dealers, senators and officials to the lowest class scum, villainy and those living of scraps. The unfairness of this Galaxy always made you feel a very strong sense of injustice. Grabbing your lightsaber from your desk, and clipping it to your belt, you make your way to the landing platform. You already see Obi-Wan waiting for you. He greets you with a smile.

“Look who finally decided to show up.” He teases, and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

“Hey I’m arriving at a perfectly reasonable time! But I also know how much you love to see me coming.” You tease back defensively and pat his arm gently as you walk past him to the speeder. You can’t see his grin as he shakes his head and follows you.

On your way to the Durasteel Den, you can’t get rid of the bad feeling in your stomach. Or maybe it was just because you were flying down the lower levels of Coruscant.

“Obi, Bane is smart, how do we know he’ll actually be there?” you ask then and glance at him.

Obi-Wan stays silent for a moment thinking about your words as he flies through the city. His brow furrow just slightly the way it always did when he was deep in thought.

“He’s smart, yes. But everyone let’s something slip sometimes. We can’t always be flawless.” He responds.

You give him a look. Because you were all too aware of Obi-Wan’s perfectionistic tendencies and how he beats himself up over every tiny single mistake.

“You know, that’s very ironic coming from you.” You tease him and can see the corner of his lips turn up. He glances at you.

“Oh so you think I am flawless?” He couldn’t help but tease back.

“No that’s not—“ you start but then shake your head and look away. “You know what i meant you kriffing nerfherder.”

He chuckles softly at your words and contiues to fly to the Durasteel Den. “Ofcours.” He awnsers then.

You try to ignore the fact you feel a little flustered. But you’re able to hide it. Like many feelings over the years. Because you weren’t supposed to feel like this as a Jedi. But maybe you did think he was flawless, was it that bad? You couldn’t help yourself and glanced at him again. With a look you only reserved for him, unknowingly. Though Anakin told you about it once. He could see the way you glanced at his former master whenever you thought he wasn’t looking.

Obi-Wan’s own faint blush was hidden by the darkness of the night- or rather covered by the different colored lights of the speeder-traffic.

Obi-Wan parked the speeder a block or two away as you continued to walk to the bar. Both of you putting the hoods of your robes up, you may not have been actually famous but you were both known around those who weren’t fond of Jedi. And unforutnately for you, that was almost a custom in the lower levels.

“Stay sharp, we don’t know if Bane has arrived yet but if he is, we can’t let him escape again.” Obi-Wan tells you as you approach the entrance.

“Hey, you know me, I’m observant.” You say smiling as you push through the door.

“Very.” He mumbles sarcastically rolling his eyes. You were observant, yes, but he also knew how easily distracted you’d get. But he wouldn’t admit to himself that the real reason he was sarcastic was because you somehow hadn’t noticed how his feelings for you were different from any other Jedi. Or friend. Or anyone for that matter. He forced the thought away as he walked in after you and saw you sit down at the bar. You had both agreed to split up, but to remain in sight. Since Bane would definetly recognize the both of you. He sat down a few chairs away from you as he glanced around the place. No sign of Bane. Yet. But there were many beings already. From all kinds of places in the galaxy, he presumed. Not knowing how long this night will be, Obi-Wan decided to order a drink.

You keep your hood over your head. You hated bars. They were crowded, loud and smelled awful. And too many different types of people were here, often with bad intentions. And the zabrak next to you was very clearly drunk as he swayed in his seat a little mumbling to himself. You couldn’t quite make out his words. But you also hadn’t noticed Cad Bane yet. He should be easy to spot if he was here. That damn blue alien, you think to yourself. You glance at Obi a few seats away from yours. The bar was curved which made it easy to glance to your right without obviously eyeing someone. But you shake your head when you watch a bartender give Obi-Wan a drink. Really? Already? Ofcours he would order himself a drink when we’ve been here for a minute. It wasn’t like he was alcoholic or anything, but the man did enjoy a drink every now and then. In your opinion, his choices of beverages were awful. He always enjoyed the strong stuff, like Avedame for example, though you shouldn’t be that surprised about that. The man drank black caff as if that’s how it’s supposed to be served. It worried you sometimes. Was it because of everything he’s gone through? Or was it just his terrible taste? Maybe both. You didn’t know. After a few minutes though you do order yourself a drink, Alderaanian ale. Mainly because it would’ve attracted too much attention if you didn’t. But you weren’t that opposed to one anyway.

After a while there was still no sign of Bane. And you grew incredibly bored. So bored you had ordered 3 drinks already, one of the 3 being Cortyg Brandy. After the first sip you decided you hated the taste of it and sticked to the Alderaanian stuff instead.

The bar had gotten more crowded, and you started to feel slightly hot after your second drink, so you pulled your hood down. You had noticed some dirty looks towards you, but managed to ignore them, you weren’t interested. Not that that mattered- you were on a mission. You did however have to tell some sleemo to piss off when he sat down next to you and placed a hand on your arm, and luckily he seemed drunk enough to oblige. Turning the glass on the counter of the bar trying to pass time, you glanced at Obi-Wan again. You weren’t sure how much drinks Obi-Wan had ordered. It was more than two. But you had lost count. Not that you were paying attention to him though, you had just noticed the bartender giving him his drinks. Is what you told yourself. No other reason. Though your glances became more frequent from the moment he had removed his own hood earlier. He was one of the nicer things to look at in this bar after all, you think as you take another sip of your drink and gaze at him. That moment you notice Obi-Wan looking directly at you. And you cringe at the thought of him knowing what you just thought of and look down at your practically empty drink. You’re a Jedi you can’t think about Obi-Wan like that. You know that. And have known that for a long time. Over the years your feelings for Obi-Wan hadn’t disappeared like you hoped they would. No. They only became stronger, more intens. Sometimes you wonder how you managed to even get knighted at all.

There was still no sign of that blast bounty hunter. Obi-Wan was starting to wonder if the information was even real as he tried to reach out to the Force and try to locate his presence. He didn’t. He did however, among all these different beings, with agendas he didn’t even want to know about, feel you. Your warmth. Your light and uplifting Force signature. Though it was a little off because of the drinks you’d had. Less obvious, but still impactful. Your tolerance was quite high, he knew that. But not as high as his. He supposed he’d build himself quite a tolerance for it over the years. Obi-Wan had spoken a few words with others, who looked approachable enough. But mainly open enough to give any information about Cad Bane if they had it. But he had no luck yet. And neither did you, he thinks as he watches you fumble with your 4th drink. He noticed you glancing his way quite a few times, but he didn’t think much of it. You were probably just bored and wanted to argue with him about something. He debated on just walking over to you, but decided against it when he had seen numerous shady beings walking around. They couldn’t risk exposing their cover. It would be too risky. So he ordered himself another Avedame.

After a while you almost wanted to just walk out and go home. It was no use, Bane was nowhere and he was never gonna show up anyway. But when you glanced at Obi-Wan again you noticed something. And it made your stumach twist in a way you hadn’t thought it could. There was a twilek woman suddenly sitting next to Obi-Wan. He didn’t seem too bothered by it. Obiwan was always the polite type, and rather good with words. Too good. And he was smart. And he always had those too witty comebacks of his that would drive you crazy. But the twilek was talking to him with a smile that screamed ‘I know you want me’. It makes your insides twist as you tighten your fingers around your drink. Obi-Wan smiled at her as they spoke. Though you told yourself he only smile because he was polite. But then the twilek’s hand was resting on his leg, as she moves closer to him too casually. She looks from his eyes to his lips and you quickly realize you want to vomit. So you glance back to Obi-Wan. And when you thought this couldn’t get any worse you see him lean in as he says something in her ear. You want to look away because you can’t physically sit here and watch Obi-Wan flirting with this twilek. It made you feel sick. But you couldn’t tear your eyes off of them as if afraid you’d miss something if you did. And you would have. You would’ve missed the way the girl wrapped her arms around his neck and oh so casually leaned into him when he placed his hand on her back. You weren’t the jealous type. You were never jealous. But oh how you could feel the Force around you start to change into enviousness. Grabbing your drink you finish it in one go. Why is Obi-Wan smiling at her? And why didn’t he hold you like that? Why was he so easily entranced by this twilek he didn’t even know, he’s never seen before, when you’ve been right there next to him for years? You thought that he cared about you, you know he did, you just thought that maybe he’d feel just a little more for you than this. You don’t even bother trying to hide your feelings in the force. You doubt he’d notice anyway since he’s so distracted by the woman. And before you knew it, her hands moved to hold his face and she pressed her lips against his. And you watch as Obi-Wan moves his hand to cradle her face as he kisses her back. Obi-Wan is kissing her. Obi-Wan is kissing someone that isn’t you. Disgust paints your features and you’re sure you’re about to be sick. And they’re not stopping. And besides disgust, jealousy and an enormous amount of envy, you feel something else. Your heart sinks to your stumach as you clench your jaw. Because you wish he’d kiss you like that… After a moment you stop the bartender and ask for an Avedame. Because you didn’t care about the taste right now, if anything it would be a good distraction. Obi-Wan had seemed to have found one…

After a minute or two you can’t take it anymore. They’ve been making out for two minutes at least and you’ve been forced to sit here and watch as Obi-Wan kisses someone he doesn’t even know when you’ve been dreaming of him kissing you for years. You hate him for it. Sometimes you hate being a Jedi. But you knew that if you weren’t, you never would’ve been brave to tell him anyway.. you finish your fifth drink of the night and it was one too many. Avedame really tasted awful. And you regret drinking it so quickly. But you notice the two nerfherder’s are finally done making out. The twilek caresses his face for a moment and you clench your jaw again. You watch as Obi-Wan says something to her and she pulls back and walks away. Obi-Wan turns back to the bar and looks at his drink before glancing at you. The force surrounding you feels like a haze of mixed feelings. Jealously, resentment, anger, hurt, remorse, insecurity, guilt all mixed up like a bottle of Corellian whiskey. You try not to drown in it. And it takes a moment for you to look away from him. Obi-Wan noticed. And for a few moments you look around the bar again, trying to get rid of your conflicted feelings. Until your eyes return to Obi’s seat. Which is empty. Why is it empty—where did he go? Oh. He must’ve followed that twilek somewhere else so they can—

“You seem distracted..” you hear a familiar voice beside you disrupt your thoughts and see obiwan sitting down next to you. You look down at your drink feeling a pit in your stomach.

“I’m not.” You say unable to hide the resentment in your voice. “You seem to be though.” You add bitterly.

He says silent for a moment, watching you swirl around your drink. “It’s that Avedame?” He asks then, slightly surprised.

“Possibly.” You mumble as you finish the last bit in one go. And cant help but wince. “I still don’t know why you like this—“ you start as you lean against the bar and look at the empty glass.

“Well i never-“

“Not that i have any idea of what you do like.” You hear yourself say before he could finish, your words slumbering together slightly because of the alcohol in your system.

But Obi-Wan is taken aback slightly. You were upset. He knew that. But why? Was this about the twilek girl he just kissed? Why would that interest you? He stays silent for a moment trying to pick a right way to respond because he suddenly felt bad. He decides that the truth would probably be best.

“You know me better than anyone.” You hear him say after a moment. He stated it rather simply. But you scoff and rueful smile crossed your lips. “I thought that too.”

Because you thought he’d never willingly kiss someone. You were foolish enough to hope that he’d one day kiss you of all people. But you always had wild fantasies. And apparently— unfortunatly this was one of them. The realization made you feel awfully heavy, even though you’ve known that dreaming of Obi-Wan being in love with you was foolish. He was the most devoted Jedi you’ve ever met. It couldn’t happen. But emotions were a fragile thing and hard to control.

Obi-Wan felt his stumach sink when he saw that rueful smile on your face. He’d upset you. He wasn’t sure why or how but he hated it. And he wished he could just turn you around to make you look at him, hold your face in his hands and let his thumbs trace every feature of yours. The thought made him realize he wanted to kiss you. Desperatly. Like so many times before. He needed to show you how he felt- but it goes against everything he believes in. And yet it was there. That feeling was always there somewhere, hidden away in his heart. A door which could only be opened by you. It was as if you’d stolen the key from him on one of those days where you were running away from him as a padawan because you’d stolen his lightsaber. Along with the key to his heart. And he hasn’t gotten rid of the yearning to know what it’d be like to remove the lock forever. He only felt more and more conflicted every time you’d greet him in the morning with that beautiful smile of yours, your uplifting presence and those eyes which would sweep him off his feet and he could drown him if he wasn’t being careful. Stars— he must’ve been a little more affected by his earlier drinks than he thought. Or simply by you.

“We should probably go—“ he said placing a hand gently on your upper arm because he couldn’t help himself.

“Can’t- have to wait for Bane.“ You say your head feeling slightly fuzzy as you move from your chair and start walking away. Away from Obi-Wan because you were too upset. You thought he would’ve chosen you. Like you would choose him if he asked.

“Hey wait—“ he said when you started walking- or rather stumbling away through the bar and he reached for your wrist.

“Let go Obi— Wan-“ your words slurred and you were getting annoyed as you look back at him.

“Listen we have to talk.” He said placing his hand on your arm again.

“Don’t wanna- talk.” You mumble as you turn around and away from him because the last person you wanted to talk to right now was Obi-Wan.

You hear him sigh as you move through a group of people. And faintly heard him call your name multiple times. You just needed to find Cad Bane and then you’d be able to go home. And sleep. And get rid of this headache you were suddenly getting.

“Sir have you seen a really ugly blue alien?” You ask a random person and the man turns around to look at you. “With an outstandingly big hat.” You add and and see a grin spreading on his face.

“Can’t say i have. What’s his name gorgeous? Maybe I’m able to help. But I’m more curious about your name.” The man said as he stepped closer and looked down at you. If you weren’t drunk, you would’ve spotted this red flag way earlier.

But when Obi-Wan finally spotted you he saw the man wrap his arm around your waist and pull you closer. And he felt his protective instincts rise in his chest. He hurried through the last group infront of him.

“Can you not— touch me-“ you say, clearly getting annoyed by this man but he seems to enjoy it.

“Don’t worry gorgeous, I’ll make sure you won’t want to think about anything else” he said pulling you closer.

“Let her go.” Obi-Wan said with a warning tone, standing behind you.

“Oh i see you have more admirers” The man said and you realized how drunk he was by the awful smell of his breath.

“You heard her she doesn’t want you to touch her. Now let her go.” Obi-Wan said again, and he’s refraining himself from grabbing his lightsaber.

“Will you both just shut up and leave me alone?” You say annoyed, tired of this entire night while you actually have an important mission. Cad Bane. Capturing Cad Bane. That’s what this night was about. You push away from the man as much as you can, but stumble back against Obi. Who was surprised but immediatly steadied you and place a hand on your waist. Normally you would’ve felt butterflies at the action. Now you just felt more irritated.

“I don’t think she likes you, sleemo.” The man said when he noticed your irritated look. And obi’s brow furrowed.

“She’s with me. Go buy another drink.” He told him and he realized you were walking away again.

“I can handle my own problems-“ you mumble towards Obi and see the two men glaring at eachother.

“For force’sake just leave us alone, I’m not interested-“ you say, your words still slurring slightly as you try to get away from Obi-Wan. And he lets you.

“Oh I don’t think so gorgeous-“ the man said when he reached for you again. And before Obi-Wan stepped towards you, you use the Force to throw someone else’s drink towards his head and it shatters, hitting his temple. Which is now bleeding. Obi-Wan pauses in his step. You apparantly were able to handle this without stepping in.

“Kriff—“ the man whined as he looked at you.

“Not interested.” You tell him again and then walk away. Not wanting to be distracted or held up by having to deal with idiotic men.

Obi-Wan had warned the guy again to not follow and he seemed to have taken the hint when he noticed his lightsaber around his belt. Then he turns to catch up with you. But you’re walking through the entire bar it seems like. He barely managed to catch up with you almost tripping over multiple people.

“Would you please just stand still and wait—“ Obi-Wan said as he reached for your arm again.

“No I’m looking for Bane while you’re busy with many other irrelevant things-“ you say until Obi turns you around and manages to grasp your wrist.

“We’re not going to find Bane tonight, now if you would please just listen—“

“I am.” You say are you turn away again because you were determined to find him tonight and end his crimes.

Obi-Wan grew slightly annoyed with your stubborness and sighed deeply. He whirled you around again and placed both of his hands on your shoulders. Forcing you to look at him.

“Listen to me, Bane isn’t here. He’s not going to be. He managed to find out his location would be compromised to the Order by one of his newer contacts. So he isn’t here.” He told you. And you managed to digest half of the information he told you, but it was clear Bane wasn’t here. And you grow more annoyed for some reason.

“Great so all of this was for nothing.” You mumble crossing your arms.

“No it wasn’t, we now know he wouldn’t be here in the first place, otherwise we could’ve only guessed.” He replied.

You stay silent for a moment as Obi-Wan looks at you. He’s a bit worried about your state. But didn’t mention it yet.

“How do you know?” You ask him then as you look back at his eyes. Those damn eyes of his were clearer than the oceans of Kamino.

“The twilek woman told me. She’s been in contact with someone who works for Bane and knew he wouldn’t be here. But she wasn’t any more helpful.” He told you, and if you weren’t feeling so drunk you would’ve noticed the way his expression changed for a moment.

“I bet you’d beg to differ.” You say bluntly as i glare at him. And he sighs.

“It was necessary. I do not understand why you seem upset about me kissing her.” He said and you wish you could punch him for his stupidity.

“It was stupid.” You state annoyed.

“Stupid?” He questioned.

“You never kiss anyone.”

“You’ve never seen me kiss anyone.” He corrects you and you want to crash his speeder for saying that.

“Did it actually upset you?” He asked when you stayed silent for a moment, and you hate the way his voice sounded genuinely concerned.

“I don’t care who you kiss. I just want you to be careful.” You say then and look away from him. “There’s many way to get drugged.” You add. it was definitely not an excuse.

“Ofcours..” Obi-Wan replied as he still looked at you. “So there’s truly nothing else bothering you?”

You look back at him then. And you wanted to scream at him how you felt. For him to feel the way you do when you see him smiling at you, holding your hand so neither of you get lost in crowds or when you saw him kiss that twilek. But you manage to stay silent. He’s a Jedi. You are too. It could never happen. It would never happen, because he didn’t feel the same. And he never will, not after so many years.

“I hate Avedame.” You say with a straight face. Obi-Wan can’t help his soft sigh.

“You’re drunk.” He states simply.

“A little.” You admit. And he shakes his head.

“We should go. There’s no reason for us to stay here.” He said then. You stay silent for a moment.

“Fine.” You mumble softly and start walking out the bar. Trying to get rid of the thought of what would happen if you did stay here. If you made a move. If you leaned closer to him and caressed his face. If you’d just lean in and kiss him. But he didn’t feel the same. He never had. You hoped he did. That maybe one day he’d confess how he felt all these years, just like the way he had in your dreams. Sometimes you let yourself foolishly believe that they were visions. But after years of being close it led to nothing other than friendship. You are grateful for it, but you desperately wished it could be more. But even though you were sure he was the only one you were ever going to fall for, the only one to ever love as deeply as this, you knew he only saw you as his friend. It could never be more.

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cloned-eyes · 8 months ago

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Wrecker simp rambles

People be praising Hunter for being a dad and Crosshair for being a big brother while forgetting Wrecker was Omegas biggest supporter from day one. He saw this kid throw food at another clone for their sake and didn't hesitate to get up behind her all protective and later on threw hands for her (also because he likes it but he wasn't let someone intimidate a kid)

And even more important he was the first and only one being like this is a kid: she needs a place to sleep and some privacy. Like he not only provided her own private place on an already limited ship, no he made sure everything was soft and padded and made it cozy with fairy lights. He was the only one like yeah a kid shouldn't be sleeping in a pilot chair or bare ass none padded shuttle bunks. He also was like I'm sure this is a lot for her. Let me give her my emotional support plushie, since she'll need it more right now.

Also like when they crash landed in that moon. And he actively forced himself to stop outwardly panicking cuz yeah maybe don't tell the kid that they gonna die.

Through the whole show Wrecker was the one providing constant positive physical touch (hugs, shoulder rides etc), feedback (little high five during meeting cid) and little routines like getting mantel mix . Like sure it kinda is played off like a joke cuz haha wrecker likes food but broskies. Omega is a kid and a clone and at least on screen no one went out of their way to treat omega like well a child to that extent early on and give her some amount of actual normality.

Also like when Cad Bane kidnapped her Wrecker immediately was there to comfort her or tell Tech to watch it after the Zillo incident. Like hands down if someone deserves parent of the year it's Wrecker

#the bad batch #star wars #clone force 99 #Tbb wrecker #Eyes rambles #Yeah I'm a wrecker simp #But this man got treated dirty #In the whole show #Like bro I don't give a shit about Hunter being the dad #Wrecker carried omegas mental well being

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areyoufuckingcrazy · 15 days ago

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“Crossfire” pt.1

Commander Cody x Reader x Captain Rex

⸻

The Outer Rim. A nowhere planet with a forgettable name. A bar that stank of spilled liquor and dreams that died in the dust. The kind of place where no one asked questions and everyone had something to hide.

Perfect.

You stepped through the door, your boots leaving gritty impressions on the warped floorboards. The air inside was thick with smoke, body heat, and the sour scent of desperation. The music was low, sluggish. There was laughter—loud, drunk, desperate—and the unmistakable tension of blasters under tables.

You spotted them before they spotted you.

Kenobi. Clean robes despite the grime. Always did like to pretend he wasn’t in the gutter with the rest of you.

Skywalker. Brooding in the corner like he owned the galaxy.

Ahsoka. Sharp-eyed, too observant.

And then the clones.

Commander Cody, sitting at the bar, looking like he was trying to blend in but failing miserably. That rigid spine was a dead giveaway.

Captain Rex, by the sabacc table, helmet at his side, hand near his belt. He looked right at home in this kind of chaos.

And of course, they hadn’t noticed you yet. Not yet.

Their target sat in a booth at the far end, sweating bullets. A former Seppie bigshot gone rogue, data chip hidden in his belt, secrets worth a fleet. Everyone wanted him.

And you’d been paid a lot to make sure he didn’t leave this dump alive.

So you didn’t hesitate.

One clean shot between the eyes.

The bar froze. Then erupted.

Blasters were drawn, tables flipped, civilians ducked. The rogue Seppie’s lifeless body slumped in the booth as chaos swallowed the room.

You ducked a shot, returned fire, elbowed a low-level bounty hunter in the face (probably the idiot who’d been hired to extract the Seppie), and spun—only to feel the hard press of a stun round hit your shoulder. Your world blinked white.

⸻

You woke up cuffed, sitting across from the same bounty hunter you clocked earlier. He looked pissed, bleeding from his nose.

“You broke it,” he snarled.

“Yeah?” You smirked. “Want me to break the other half for symmetry?”

“Enough,” Cody growled from beside the shuttle door.

You turned your head lazily toward him. “Commander. Still as charming as ever.”

“And you’re still a pain in my shebs,” Rex muttered, arms folded as he leaned against the wall opposite you.

You gave him a wink. “Thought you liked that about me.”

Skywalker wasn’t as amused. “You just jeopardized months of intel.”

Kenobi, to his credit, looked more tired than angry. “Why did you kill him?”

You shrugged. “Because someone paid me to.”

“That’s your only reason?” Ahsoka asked, arms crossed.

“I’m a bounty hunter, kid. What did you expect—moral qualms?”

The shuttle rattled slightly as it took off. You leaned back in your restraints, smirking at the other bounty hunter who was still fuming.

“If you keep glaring at me like that, I’m gonna start thinking you like the pain,” you said.

“I’m gonna gut you.”

“You can try. They’ll probably stop you halfway through. Probably.”

⸻

When the shuttle touched down and they dragged you toward the brig, you kept up the banter, kept smiling through it. They threw you into a cell—right across from someone you hadn’t seen in a while.

Cad Bane.

He sat on the cot, arms folded, hat gone. He looked up slowly, red eyes gleaming.

“Well, well. Look who finally got caught.”

You leaned against the bars, grinning. “Still bitter I outshot you on Lothal?”

He gave a dry chuckle. “Nah. Just funny seein’ you in a cage. Guess even you couldn’t run forever.”

“I’m not running,” you said. “Just biding my time.”

Cad raised a brow. “That’s what they all say.”

From behind you, you heard Rex mutter to Cody, “This is going to be a long debrief.”

Cody replied, “We should’ve left her on Taris.”

You smirked. “You missed me, admit it.”

They didn’t answer—but you swore you saw the corner of Cody’s mouth twitch. Rex didn’t look away fast enough.

Yeah.

This wasn’t over.

⸻

The cell was cold. Imperial-grade, sterile, humming with the low sound of energy fields. The kind of place designed to keep people like you in line.

You sat on the bench, arms draped casually over your knees, studying your chipped nails while the other bounty hunter—Dren or Dray, whatever his karking name was—paced like a caged nexu.

He stopped in front of you. “When we get out of here—”

You cut him off without looking up. “You’re going to try to kill me. Yeah, yeah. You’ve said it five times already. Sixth time’s the charm?”

He growled low in his throat.

Cad Bane laughed from his cell. “If he doesn’t do it, I might.”

You smiled sweetly. “Aww, Bane. Missed me that much?”

He smirked. “Not as much as I missed your karkin’ messes.”

Before Dray could lunge, the door hissed open.

Commander Cody stepped in first, helmet off, expression carved from stone. Rex followed close behind, also helmetless, his eyes scanning the room like he expected you to pull a trick just for fun.

And oh, you wanted to.

“Let’s make this simple,” Cody said. “One at a time.”

He gestured to Dray, who sneered at you before being dragged out by two troopers.

⸻

They threw him into the chair, cuffed to the table. Skywalker stood near the door, arms crossed. Ahsoka leaned in the corner. Kenobi took a seat opposite him.

Cody and Rex remained silent but close.

“So,” Kenobi started, polite as ever. “Why were you sent after the separatist?”

Dray spat blood onto the floor. “Someone big. Black Sun, maybe. Zygerrians. Don’t know. Don’t care. I don’t ask.”

“But you were told to bring him back alive,” Ahsoka pressed.

Dray shrugged. “My job. Pretty sure hers was the opposite.” He jerked his chin toward the door.

Skywalker’s brow twitched. “And you didn’t think to stop her?”

“Have you tried stopping her?” Dray barked a bitter laugh. “She doesn’t stop until the job’s done.”

Kenobi exchanged a look with Cody. “And what do you think her goal really is?”

Dray smirked. “Chaos. She lives for it.”

⸻

They didn’t even bother dragging you. You walked.

Rex stayed close. His arm brushed yours once in the hallway. Neither of you said anything, but the contact lingered.

They sat you in the room, uncuffed your hands—but you didn’t miss the stun baton nearby.

Kenobi this time sat across from you. Ahsoka and Skywalker flanked the wall. Cody stood by the door. Rex leaned against the table, arms folded, watching you carefully.

“Who hired you?” Kenobi asked.

You shrugged. “Don’t know. Credits came clean. Dead drop. Professional middle-man.”

“What were your instructions?”

You smirked. “Make sure the Seppie doesn’t leave the bar alive. Job well done, I’d say.”

“You jeopardized months of intelligence,” Skywalker snapped.

You tilted your head, mock-innocent. “Aw. You poor things. Didn’t have a backup plan?”

Rex cut in, voice low. “Why take that job?”

“Because it paid better than babysitting cadets,” you replied, eyes locking with his.

Cody’s jaw tensed. “You knew we’d be there.”

You let the silence stretch.

Kenobi sighed. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”

You leaned forward, grin sharp. “I’ve always played dangerous. And the best part? I win.”

Cody stepped closer. “Not this time.”

You looked up at him. The air shifted. That heat. That damn history.

“You sure about that, Commander?”

He didn’t answer.

But he didn’t break eye contact either.

⸻

Later: In the Cells Again

“You’re going to get us all killed,” Dray snapped.

“Only you,” you replied sweetly.

“Keep talkin’,” Cad Bane drawled, “and I’ll kill ya both just to sleep in peace.”

You laughed. “You’re too old and slow, Bane.”

He smirked. “You sure? Maybe I’m just waitin’ for the right moment.”

You stood and leaned against the bars. “You want out, don’t you?”

Bane looked up slowly. “You plannin’ somethin’?”

“Maybe. But I’m gonna need you not to shoot me first.”

Dray scoffed. “You’re conspiring with him?”

You turned. “I’d rather get spaced with Bane than babysit you for another karking hour.”

“You’d die before we even got to the hangar.”

“I’d die after stabbing you in the eye,” you snapped.

“Enough!” Cody’s voice cracked through the corridor. “You’re all on thin ice.”

Rex followed behind him, eyes flicking between you and Cad Bane. “What are they whispering about?”

“Escape,” Bane said easily.

“Sabacc,” you said at the same time, deadpan.

Cody sighed. “Stars help me.”

You flashed him a grin. “Come on, Commander. You never did like me quiet.”

Cody stared at you, tired and tense. “You’re going to make this hell, aren’t you?”

You leaned in through the bars. “Only for you.”

Behind him, Rex didn’t laugh. But he looked away—like maybe he remembered too much.

And it wasn’t over.

Not by a long shot.

⸻

He came to your cell alone. Helmet under one arm, posture like durasteel—guarded, unreadable. But his eyes… they lingered.

“I don’t get you,” he said finally.

You arched a brow, leaning against the wall. “That’s the fun, isn’t it?”

“You could’ve walked a different path.”

“Couldn’t we all?”

He stepped closer to the bars, voice lower. “You’re good. You’ve always been good. But you waste it chasing the next high, the next payday.”

You met his eyes. “And you waste yours dying for a war you didn’t start.”

Silence crackled between you.

“You know I almost trusted you once?” he said, quieter now. “Back on Ryloth.”

You smiled sadly. “I trusted you too. That’s why it hurt.”

Cody’s jaw clenched. He stepped back.

“Good night,” he muttered.

But as he walked away, you whispered after him, “I liked you best when you didn’t follow orders.”

He paused. Just for a second.

And then he was gone.

⸻

Night cycle hummed over the Republic cruiser like a lullaby—dimmed lights, soft hums of systems in idle. Most troopers were off duty, leaving only the skeleton crew watching the prisoners. Which made it the perfect time.

You sat on the bench in your cell, silent, eyes cast down—but your mind was spinning like a rigged sabacc deck.

From the cell across the hall, Cad Bane shifted. “So. We doin’ this or not?”

You glanced up. “I’m in. As long as you don’t shoot me in the back.”

He chuckled darkly. “Only if you give me a reason.”

“You always find reasons.”

⸻

It started with a cough. A sound code—three stuttered bursts and a hum.

You shifted the small sharp sliver of metal you’d hidden in your boot sole. Slipped it into the lock of your cuffs. Click.

Bane did the same. Quick, smooth. Silent.

Then came the bang—explosive discharge from a faulty conduit Bane had rigged with the power from his bed frame over the past two nights.

Smoke filled the hall.

Guards shouted.

The cell shields dropped.

You were on your feet in seconds, vaulting out, slamming a stolen baton into a clone trooper’s head. Bane rolled beside you, gunning another down with a blaster stolen mid-scrap.

Dren/Dray, the other bounty hunter, stumbled into the hall behind you. “What the hell is going on?!”

“Keep up,” you snapped, firing at a control panel to unlock the main access hatch.

But he didn’t keep up.

He panicked.

He tripped the silent alarm.

And you watched, stunned, as he shot toward you in his confusion—blaster bolt nearly missing Bane, grazing your arm.

“You idiot,” you hissed.

Bane growled. “He’s gonna get us killed.”

You didn’t hesitate.

You turned and shot him point-blank in the chest.

Dren gasped, staggered, eyes wide. “You—”

“Should’ve stayed in your cage.”

He dropped. Dead weight. Smoke and blood.

Bane didn’t comment. Just nodded.

You both bolted.

⸻

Later—after the alarms died, after the blast doors sealed, after you slipped into a half-abandoned maintenance shaft and disappeared into the dark—Rex found you.

He always found you.

You were nursing your arm in an old hangar, steam hissing from busted pipes, blaster on your lap.

He didn’t raise his weapon. Just stood there. Watching.

“Was it worth it?” he asked.

“Surviving usually is.”

He took a few steps closer. His armor scraped the floor. His eyes, so damn tired, locked on yours.

“You didn’t have to kill him.”

You sighed. “He was going to blow the whole thing. He already tried to shoot me.”

“He was scared.”

“So was I.” You looked up. “I still am.”

That caught him off guard. He blinked. “You?”

You gave him a tired smile. “I’m not made of stone, Rex.”

He knelt in front of you, gaze softer now. “I know.”

Your hands brushed when he passed you a med patch. You didn’t move away.

“You could come back,” he said, voice so low you almost missed it.

“Come back to what?” you asked, searching his face. “The war? The orders? The cage?”

He didn’t answer.

But he didn’t stop looking.

And you didn’t stop hoping he’d say something that would make you stay.

Instead, you stood. Pulled your hood up.

“If you see Cody…” you started, then paused. “Tell him I liked the way he looked at me. Even when he hated it.”

You turned.

Rex didn’t stop you.

But his voice followed you, low and sure.

“You still owe me a drink.”

You didn’t turn back.

But your smile did.

⸻

The outer rim planet fell behind you in a smear of stars and scorched debris. The freighter Cad Bane had “borrowed” from some now-dead smuggler creaked through hyperspace like a dying animal, but it flew. That’s all you needed.

You leaned against the console, arms crossed, one leg kicked up. Bane was at the controls, hat tilted low, cigar smoldering at the edge of his teeth.

“You always bring the drama,” he muttered without looking at you.

You smirked. “You miss it.”

“Miss the pay. Not the company.”

“You’re full of shit.”

He chuckled. “And you’re still too loud for stealth work.”

You both knew it was banter. The real conversation sat thick between the lines.

You killed a Republic target. In front of the Republic. You got out. And now… now you were heading straight for the heart of it all.

“You sure about this client of yours?” Bane asked finally.

You looked out the viewport. “He pays well. Doesn’t ask too many questions.”

“Too many questions?” Bane repeated with a slow grin. “That’s usually my line.”

You didn’t answer.

⸻

The freighter touched down in a private bay tucked into the shadow of the Senate. No inspection. No questions. It was already cleared.

You didn’t ask how.

Bane didn’t follow. “I ain’t steppin’ foot back on this dirtball unless someone’s bleeding for it,” he muttered, lighting a fresh cigar.

“Suit yourself.”

He gave you one last look as you descended the ramp. “Watch your back, girl.”

You flashed him a smile over your shoulder. “Always do.”

The hangar door sealed shut behind you with a hiss like a final breath.

You weren’t escorted.

You didn’t need to be.

You knew the route—hallways hidden in plain sight, guarded only by shadows and silence. A turbolift opened to a private suite carved beneath the Senate tower. Cold. Ornate. Smelling faintly of incense and age.

He stood there waiting—Chancellor Palpatine.

A soft smile curved his lips. The kind of smile you should never trust.

“My dear,” he said warmly, stepping toward you, “I trust the target was… eliminated?”

You bowed your head slightly. “Clean shot. Left no trace.”

“I’m sure they saw it differently,” he murmured, amused. “Tell me—how did our Jedi friends take the loss?”

“They were angry. Confused. Lost the asset and control.”

Palpatine smiled wider. “Excellent.”

You said nothing.

He stepped closer, his eyes sharper now. “You’ve done well. But I must caution you, my dear—you’ve caught the attention of some very dangerous people. Commander Cody. Captain Rex. Jedi Skywalker…”

“I can handle them.”

He tilted his head. “I’m certain you think so.”

There was something about him—like he could peel the skin from your bones with just a glance.

He reached into his cloak and handed you a small black chip. “Your payment. And… a little something more.”

You took it, eyes narrowing. “What’s the bonus?”

“A new target,” he said softly. “But not yet. When the time comes, I will summon you.”

“And if I’m busy?”

His eyes gleamed like ice in the dark.

“You won’t be.”

You stepped back into the shadows of the Coruscant underworld, chip in hand, heart pounding. Not fear—no. Something worse.

Anticipation.

You’d just made a deal with the devil.

And he was wearing the face of the Republic.

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