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toomanybandstocare · 1 year ago

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{How Cody Falls Asleep and What That Says About Him}

Program: Just how he falls asleep when he's deployed and when he has the luxury of being at home in your arms. Where feels safe and loved.

Pairing: Cody x GN! Reader

Genre: Fluff

Counselor Notes: After how many months??? I had it written out ... but I just didn't feel like posting it. Oopsies - well I had a shit week, so here's some comfort kind of.

Camp Resolute Masterlist

This man is out cold as soon as his head hits the pillow. As soon as his head sinks into the slightly plush pillow he snagged from your apartment, Cody completely relaxes and slips into a comfortable slumber.

He sleeps on his back with his armor stacked neatly by the corner of his bed closest to his head. One arm holds a pillow the blankets close to his chest as he trying to find a semblance of safety in the room that's supposed to be his escape from reality. But the bland durasteel walls always feel like they're closing in on him. The only exception is the inner wall his bed is against where photos of his friends and brothers are tapped close by.

Cody's a very light sleeper even though he falls asleep quickly. Unless it's his chronometer or someone familiar telling him to wake up, he jolts from his sleep if something unusual or alarming pulling him from his sleep.

Cody's ready to jump up and get going, he has to be with the nature of war. However, he much prefers to take his time in the mornings. He wants to ease into the day when he can. Either starting with a light workout or reading whatever fictional novel he can get his hands on.

His small travel trunk, that's supposed to hold datapads and supplies for himself, usually is filled mostly with all the books he collects on deployment. Carefully tucked in a corner surrounded by a blanket for padding, Cody has an analogue camera that he purchased on his first deployment. The first photo he took with it was of his batchmates when they were all on leave at the same time soon after.

When Cody's home on leave, everyone knows where to find him if they absolutely need him. Only in actually emergencies and not when Waxer reveals his lastest rescue tooka kitten to the 212th.

He'll pull you into his side when you spend the night together. Carefully tucking his chin on your head as one arm sneaks underneath your neck and the other rests across your middles. Loves to be the big spoon, because he can feel the two of you connect and slowly fall into your shared mundane routine once again.

Cannot stop himself from peppering you with soft, fleeting kisses. Across your shoulder where your sleep shirt slips off. Up your neck where he feels your pulse (his favorite spot since he can remind himself your alive and well and safe from everything wrong in the galaxy). From your jaw to your cheek bone to the crown of you head, until places a final lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth.

Your bodies always gravitate towards one another. Always tangled in a mess by the time the sun rises through the curtained window of your Coruscant apartment.

The first night he returns home, Cody always pulls out one of his comfy shirts and lays it out for you for bed. One of his favorite moments in the day is when he wakes up and trails his fingertips feather light against your pj shorts and rests his hand on the dip of your torso where his top bunches up. He carefully grasps it in his hand and pulls your closer into him.

You know he's had a rough deployment when you wake up and find his body tilted and covering yours. Partially laying on top of you and rests his head in the crook of your shoulder, it's as if Cody's trying to subconsciously shield you from any dangers lurking in the dark.

-> Cody is never able to fully able to relax unless he's in a space that he knows is completely his own or shared with a loved one. -> Always on the defensive as he tries to think about how to be ready to protect those around him. -> Cody is a selfish man who keeps it to himself in order not to endanger anyone. He makes small sacrifices when he knows it's absolutely safe to do so. That way he can experience a moment of normalcy and what life is like outside the war. -> He's a patient and understanding man. That's why he's never upset when a new tooka kiten roams around the command center on the Starship or when a set of his spare blacks go missing until he fins them in the laundry pile. Cody, of all people, knows the struggle of trying to start a life or moment of joy during such a turbulent time, and he won't be the one to deny his brothers or lover that.

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clonelyhours · 1 year ago

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Control

Pairing(s): Commander Cody x gn! reader

Tags/warnings: Jedi! reader, taunting, dom! reader, fluff

Word count: 1.1k

Being a commander in the war could be tough at times, but as a co-commander, some of the weight was lifted from your shoulders. You aided in Commander Cody's role in the war, except, it didn't feel like that at times.

Whenever you would attempt to give mission reports or orders to the men, Cody would talk over you and do it himself. It's not like you went to your master, Obi-Wan, and complained about it to him, as he thought you to be as childish as Anakin was. Complaining would only make it worse.

So one day, you decided to confront the clone about it. You'd finished with a briefing and were ready annoy him once you got him alone. "Cody, I need to talk to you, now."

Complying with your need, he went off to the side with you to have a private conversation. "What seems to be the problem, commander?"

Your crossed your arms and glared at him like your life depended on it. "Oh, we're going to play that game?"

Cody shrugged just before removing his helmet. "What game—"

"You need to stop talking over me at every briefing and mission report." You snapped. "I've put up with it for way too long and now I'm sick of you treating me the way you do."

"Listen kid." He rolled his eyes. "I wasn't bred in a lab only to share my position with someone. The men listen to me more than they do, you."

"First off, I'm chronologically like five years older than you." You crossed you arms. "So watch who you're calling a kid."

"Excuse me?" He looked at you in shock.

You hid your forming smirk and stepped closer to him, grabbing his chin with your thumb and index finger, forcing his eyes to meet with yours. "You heard me Cody, don't call me a kid anymore, and don't treat me like one. After all, I'm sure that my master wouldn't like to hear about this. Understood?"

"Y-Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes... commander." He lowered his voice.

Finally, you released the clone from your grip and turned your back on him. "You know Cody, you don't always have to be in control."

"Wait." He grabbed your wrist, stopping you from walking away. "What was that?"

"What was what?"

"The chin thing."

"You mean this?" You grabbed his chin once more and raised one of your eyebrows. "I uh... I dunno." A blush rose to your cheeks, his eyes locking with yours. "But.. I have to go, I-I'll see you around Cody." With that, you spun around and left the room in a record time. The clone now stared at the exit in which you had left, starstruck.

The next few days had been awkward between you and him. Master Kenobi did take note of that, but decided not to ask about it, as he had far more important things to worry about. Cody had improved in sharing the commanding spotlight with you, and sometimes, he'd just let you take control of everything.

But that was no fun. You began to miss the small arguments with your fellow commander.

Why?

Because that was an excuse to spend more time talking to him. Recently you had been so lost in your thoughts, that you hadn't been able to tell that he felt the same way too, only, he had it worse. The way that you had grabbed his chin and forced him to look at you had only made his desires grow. He was the one in control, and he wanted you to know that, but why had he given in to your demands? Why did he feel vulnerable whenever he caught your gaze from across the room, when he was just standing next to you?

Why did his heart do a flip whenever you talked to him?

As Cody tried to think of the answers to these questions, he subconsciously began walking to your quarters. Now he stood in front of your door in confusion, thinking about what he planned on saying. Once he finally gathered up the courage, he removed his helmet and knocked on your door.

When you opened it, your lips parted and then quickly closed, your eyes shifting down to the helmet tucked between his arm and hip.

"Can I talk to you?" He asked in such a soft tone, a tone that you'd never heard from him before. "Of course, come on in." You moved to the side. He stepped inside and awkwardly waited for you to close the door. You then went to sit on your bed, where you crossed one of your arms and began to pick at the dirt underneath your fingernails. "What's up Cody?"

"Sir- Commander-I mean..." he looked anywhere but at you, his eyes finally resting on your lightsaber which laid on your desk. "I-" he choked on his words, guilt suddenly washing over him. "I actually have to go."

"Sit down." You patted the empty spot besides you. Not wanting to disobey you, he did as told. "What's wrong Cody?" You hesitantly placed a hand on his shoulder in hope that he would relax. Instead, Cody nervously began to tap his fingers against his helmet and bounced his knee. "I..." he croaked. "I can't stop... thinking about you."

You could've sworn to the maker that you heart stopped beating. Slowly, you looked at Cody, trying to make sure you heard that right. "Y-you can't stop thinking about me?— I can't stop thinking about you."

His eyes instantly locked with yours, head shaking in disbelief. "Why? I'm... just a clone. I'm nothing special—"

"Don't say that." You hesitantly reached a hand towards his cheek. "You're special to me. You're important to me, Cody. You get on my nerves sometimes, but I still... I still like you."

The side of his face nuzzled into your touch, almost as if he were melting under the warmth of your hand. Your thumb grazed against the bottom of the jagged scar that curved around his eye, a frown on your face. "Why do you think that?"

Cody slowly leaned in closer to you, breath shallow. "I share the exact DNA with millions of men."

"But you're not all the same." You began to lean in too. "You're a commander, a leader... you take care of your men, you take care of my master and I... don't ever let anyone tell you that you're the exact same as every other clone— you're in control of the person you want to be, Cody."

You were right. He was in control of the person he wanted to be, of the decisions he made. He was in control of the question the spilled from his dried and chapped lips. "Can I kiss you, commander?"

"You may, commander."

And your lips met with one another's, molding perfectly together.

From now on, it would be the two of you in control of your future together.

#cody #commander cody #star wars tcw #star wars the clone wars #star wars #the clone wars #tcw #212th attack battalion #212th #ct 2224 #cody x you #cody x reader #x y/n #commander cody x reader #commander cody x you #fluff #commander Cody fluff #jedi reader

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ominouspuff · 9 months ago

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Kote’s House

Kote’s first house is a pathetic thing, and he is incurably proud of it. The twi’lek he purchased it from very evidently could not make up his mind what to do with a man that grinned while he haggled, but it was the first time Kote had haggled over a purchase of his very own. He had thoroughly enjoyed it.

The house is built for one being, and a compact being at that, but Kote doesn’t have much. Moving in is quick, and most of his efforts during the next few days after go into attempting ambitious repairs for things he doesn’t know the first thing about.

His plumbing is an issue, he knows. Something is getting blocked up. Somehow while trying to fix the kitchen tumbler, his fresher spout explodes.

He hadn’t kept his new house a secret from anyone by any means, but it is still surprising when Fox barges in through his jamming front door. He finds Kote on the floor in his cramped kitchen while the fresher rains water in the adjacent room, laughing so hard and so crippled with delight that he can’t get up.

He tries to explain how wonderful it is —

“I-I have to fix my plumbing on my own, vod—”

—but judging by Fox’s single raised eyebrow he knows it doesn’t translate.

Fox, it turns out, is moving into the neighborhood. Kote doesn’t ask about the house Fox already has — the house he has visited, which is very nice and fancy — or point out that Fox’s contract there cannot possibly be up, which begs the question of why he’s here in Kote’s neighborhood — except that Kote already knows the answer to that question. So he doesn’t ask.

Fox doesn’t show him any grace or forbearance, though.

“Don’t even know how to fix a damn pipe, front lining show-off—” His brother snarls, but it is muffled; his top half had to go down beneath the floor they’d pried up to get at the plumbing issue.

“So that’s what they had you doing all these years.” Kote says, because he really is in a criminally good mood. He barely ducks the foot-long pipe Fox throws at his head, feeling giddy.

He makes dinner that night in thanks. Fox stays, ostensibly because now that he’s fixed the fresher he intends to use it, because his new house isn’t hooked up properly yet to all the supply lines and power grids.

They choke on homemade tiingilar (vode-style; Kote can’t pretend at the real thing yet) so heavily spiced it’s got grit to it that sticks between the teeth. It’s disgusting, but Cody had bought fifteen different spices and while usually he likes to keep his approach to the unknown more cautious, more methodical, he couldn’t think of anything he wanted to do more than use them all at once for the first time.

Wolffe joins them not long after; brings a few others along by recommending the apartment he picks out, so that soon most of the complex is taken up by vode, Kote hears, but he doesn’t visit yet. Everyone’s too busy coming over to his house, it seems; filling up his kitchen and asking why he hasn’t fixed the trash disposal yet, why he doesn’t have a couch, doesn’t he know they’re all the rage among civilized folk?

Kote fixes the trash disposal with Rex, who is better at it than he is but says it’s only due to Skywalker’s influence on managing all things mechanical.

“How is Skywalker?” Kote asks, and gets more than he bargained for over the next hour. At first he’s a bit off-put, because he’s trying to get dinner sorted again and he’s not been very fond of Skywalker at the best of times, but Rex is snorting out a story and laughing and it’s contagious, so Kote just resigns himself and settles in to enjoy.

Skywalker has little ones, now. Obi-Wan is the only one that can get them to sleep. Ahsoka is distressed; she knows better, but every instinct in her is apparently in agony over the little ones’ inability to eat meat yet. She obsesses over nutrients in their diet — which, given what tiny natborn humans primarily ingest in the early stages, makes for some slightly awkward conversations.

Rex helps with dinner afterward, and they take turns being incredulous over natborn baby facts, shoving around one another in the tiny, uncomfortable kitchen.

“What’s your next project?” Rex asks at one point, glancing sidelong with a cheeky look, and Kote levels his vegetable knife at him (he’s got a vegetable knife. Specifically for vegetables. It’s a very new concept).

“I make everyone’s dinner on Tuangsdays.” He says. “I’m productive.”

Rex’s sharp-toothed grin turns thoughtful. “Yeah” He says. “Everyone loves coming here, you know. You could be the new 79’s.”

Kote knows. He plans and plots, and puts more work into researching recipes than he’s put into any research whatsoever in months. It feels a bit like coming out of a shore leave; his thoughts quicken and his excitement grows. He hunts down a market. He brings a bag. He shops, bargains, and returns victorious.

He sends out a few comms., and can’t help but shake his head and grin at how different the responses are.

What a marvelous idea, Cody. His general — ex-general — says.

Yus pls, Ahsoka sends back, with some sort of strange tooka vidclip that dances with wiggly gyrations Kote can only assume indicate excitement.

Where is your house, Anakin says, blunt and to the point, and Kote can appreciate that.

He sends the address. He cooks all day. The sun sets, and Fox and Wolffe arrive, already bickering, Rex trailing behind with a long-suffering look sent to Kote, begging commiseration.

“Ugh, don’t you ever stop smiling, now?” He gripes when Kote just grins at him.

“Nope,” Kote says, unrepentantly.

He leaves the soup on the stove, simmering, and takes his cup of caf to the window. He leans on it, breathing in cool air, and just listens — listens to the squabbling as Wolffe gets on Fox’s case for not washing Kote’s dishes correctly the last time they visited. Hears the soft thumps of Rex sneaking into the cramped room Kote has set aside for plants and the sole pet he has; a pastel goullian, fins swaying ever so gently, permanent scowl in place. Thinks he catches, distantly, the sound of his remaining three guests (Padme couldn’t attend, and had made him feel very awkward by how thoughtfully she apologized for it) plodding up the hill.

“Cody!” Ahsoka cries, coming into view and waving.

Kote’s cheeks have stopped aching from all the smiling he’s gotten used to, so it’s easy to let another through.

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awkward-tension-art · 7 months ago

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Clones as expectant fathers

I am an actual nero-cancer researcher. I have a job and a degree. And my ADHD brain saw sad military men and went “I want that one”

Clones: Rex, Wolffe, Fox, Cody and Fives

CW: pregnancy, the clones all have a ‘secret’ SO, They are expecting a baby, A little angsty with Fox, there's slight mentions of smut with Fives (if you squint), swearing, this is just supposed to be a good time, its not reader insert

Minors do not interact!

Rex

Terrified. Also overjoyed. But mostly terrified.

He’s a soldier. Captain of the 501st, the most….adventurous of the GAR. His chances of dying on the battlefield and leaving his SO behind are higher than the average clone

And now he may leave behind his child? His kid may grow up without a father

He gets nervous. Anxious and antsy, and it's very VERY easy for Anakin to figure out Rex isn’t entire OK

Rex doesn’t even need to tell Anakin.

Skywalker takes one look at him and just KNOWS.

“Congrats, Rex.” “...on what, sir?” “If it's a boy, name him after me.” “WHAT!?”

Ahsoka needs to be told and she’s more excited than Rex when she finds out.

“Come on Rex! Name them after me! The republic needs an Ahsoka jr!” “And if the baby is a boy?” “Don’t name them after skyguy, please!”

Most of the 501st don't know. Too many people knowing raises the chance of less accepting individuals knowing. And if that happens, Rex, his SO and his baby may be in danger.

It’s forbidden for the clones to have SO’s, not to mention babies. It could end with Rex being decommissioned or reconditioned if it was found out he had both

Rex will visit and help as much as he can every chance he gets. He feels terrible for leaving his SO for long stretches of time during the pregnancy.

He WANTS to be there…he just can’t. Not while the war was going on

Despite his terror, Rex is…overjoyed

He didn’t think children were possible for him. He knew it could happen, but he didn’t think HE would ever know this happiness

The first time he feels his baby move in his SO, he’d get this sweetest smile on his face. He’ll kiss the baby bump and just murmur words of love in mando’a

He falls head-over-heels in love all over again

As the due date approaches, Anakin asks an important question

“Captain, I need to know when your baby might be born.” “...why, sir?” “Because I need to know when to take extended leave.”

Anakin tells Padme, and she is beyond sweet. Even visits Rex’s SO and the two have a wonderful friendship

All in all, Rex is both excited and anxious. But having so much support from Anakin, Ahsoka and Padme (and his other brothers who find out much later) helps him a lot

Wolffe

More relaxed. And by relaxed I mean he hides his anxiety better. And it doesn’t exactly hit him as hard

Partly because Plo Koon and the entire Wolfpack knows about his relationship already.

So you bet your ass the pack celebrates when Wolffe tells them he's going to be a father

Plo Koon especially is excited

“How wonderful, new life being born during times of war” “I’m not naming my child after you, general Plo.” “Nonsense! The child will be a girl.”

During battle, Wolffe finds himself being protected by his brothers and General a tad more

At first he writes it off as a coincidence, but then Boost lets slip during a battle “You gotta get back to your little one!”

He gives his men a bit of a lecture. He’s not incapable of fighting or defending himself. He thinks the message gets across but Plo chimes in with, “Ah yes, the stern words of a father already!”

Wolffe would probably see his SO more frequently than Rex. Just because Plo would more than likely spend more time on Coruscant.

He’s definitely protective. As in, waking up in the middle of the night to check all the windows, protective. Keeping an arm around his SO, protective. Every symptom or sign of discomfort he calls a medical droid, protective.

He’s not stupid, he is well aware that by having an SO and a child on the way he's in violation of several rules. All of which, when broken, would have him decommissioned

But dammit, he's not letting that happen. Wolffe will be there for his SO and his baby, no matter what

Since he’s able to spend more time with his SO, he’s there to feel the first movements of his baby.

It sort of causes him to short-circuit for a second. It hits him that yes, this is a life that he and his SO both created. Out of love.

Wolffe makes a swear that he’s going to protect his baby at all costs

Grandpa Plo does as well, but the Wolfpack doesn’t know that

Fox (kinda angst)

First of all congratulations to the SO for actually managing to be Fox’s SO

They got to be something special for the head of Palpatine’s personal guard to break rules and regulations and find himself an SO

Speaking of Palpatine, congratulations to Fox! Your SO is now in even more danger!

No, seriously. Palpatine knows before Fox. No one knows how, but he knows.

And he absolutely will use Fox’s SO as leverage to keep him under control

And Fox knows this, so he behaves. More so than usual.

He’s not blind. Hes fiercely loyal to the republic, but one step out of line and the (very few) things he cares about will be killed

Which…is why Fox may come across as cold or uninterested when his SO informs him of their pregnancy

A part of him is terrified, he just won’t show it

He’s not going to be more affectionate or anything. He actually acts pretty normal. Which is standoffish.

Despite his…demeanor, he actually manages to be present for the entirety of the pregnancy. It helps being a Coruscant guard, which means he’s more present than all the other clones.

He’s not moving mountains or anything, but he’ll get snacks in the middle of the night in case of cravings

No one else knows about Fox and his SO. not even his own men. He refuses to tell anyone.

Its for his SO’s protection

But Palpatine, the sick fuck, slips some words to get Fox’s nerves into overdrive

“This war is taking such a toll. So many dead children…so many grief stricken parents” “Sir?” “Oh nothing. Just stating the fact that the loss of an innocent life, such as…a baby, is always a tragedy. Wouldn’t you agree, commander?”

He found himself walking home a bit faster that day and hugs his SO a little tighter that night

Fox cares, in his own way. He’s just beyond stressed and anxious. But you wouldn’t know. He hides it behind a mask.

It's actually Padme that finds out. And she feels somewhat bad for Fox. She thinks his anxiety comes from the fact that clones aren't allowed SO’s or children

Which, it is, but theres the added threat of fucking Palpatine.

She ends up getting him to tell her the truth and she swears to secrecy. Even offers to hire his SO as some sort of assistant, if only so Fox can be closer to his SO

Hear me out, he actually breaks down when he feels the baby move. He can’t fully handle it anymore and shuts down.

This is a baby. His baby. They're alive and already so loved.

Something in him clicks and he accepts Padme’s help.

His terror gets easier, ever so slightly. But he keeps his collected and calm front.

Cody

“General Kenobi-” “Ah! Commander Cody! Congratulations!”

goddamnit.exe

Cody is a tad more relaxed than Rex, but more tense than Wolffe

He knows Kenobi isn’t going to punish him or force him back to Kamino for decommissioning, he’s still a little on guard.

But, since Kenobi knows, Anakin does. So does Ahsoka. Which means Rex knows.

goddamnit2.exe

More people in the 501st know than in the 212th which gives him the biggest headache

Waxer knows though. Cody had to tell someone that wasn’t a sarcastic general

He does a good job hiding his worry though

Cody is able to spend about the same amount of time as Rex with his SO

He doesn’t feel as bad as Rex when it comes to the lack of presence he has during the pregnancy

It's war. It sucks and he’d prefer to be there for his SO, but he’d also prefer SO and child have freedom from the separatists

I will say, he is pretty attentive when he isn’t off in space.

Foot rubs, shoulders massages, helping with cravings

One thing Cody does is that he’ll wrap his arms under his SO’s baby bump and lift it slightly, giving his SO’s back some relief

He really loves to do this because his SO just melts

Hear me out, Cody gets giggly when he feels the baby move/kick the first time

His palm is on the bump and he feels that first little flutter against his hand

404 Commander Cody has his amygdala broken from joy. Reboot?

He’ll actually tell Kenobi about it because he’s so happy.

“That's wonderful Cody, but I still question one thing.” “What is it, sir?” “How you managed to get laid to begin with.”

Goddamnit3.exe

Fives

“Hey everyone! I’m gonna be a dad!”

Ecstatic is not a strong enough word

Also not subtle at all

There is a solid 3 hours until everyone in the 501st knows

He’s told Echo before the first hour. Rex knew within 2 hours.

Fives is BEYOND over the moon

He gets this small smile on his face that just doesn’t go away

Whenever he’s not with his SO, he definitely calls them every day. He wants updates on the little one

Also, seeing his SO with a baby bump? Unlocks something inside his brain.

Fives is incredibly horny when he’s with his SO. He’ll be rubbing their middle and getting a puppy dog look in his eye.

Only if his SO is in the mood of course! He’d never try and be forceful

He’s probably the clone that takes the distance the hardest. He debates taking a ship and making a run for Coruscant on more than one occasion.

In the end he settles to ask Anakin for extended leave.

Anakin is also extremely happy for Fives. Like with Rex, he makes a “name the baby after me” joke

Fives brings that up to his SO and nearly gets smacked. He also makes a “Fives jr.” joke and actually does get smacked.

When Fives feels the baby kick, he gets high on happiness. Actual mumbling incoherent words of love and affection in Mando’a

Lots and lots of “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum”

He also gets very VERY affectionate with his SO

Kisses his SO’s face a lot. Even as a greeting, he’ll just start peppering their cheeks with pecks

Also probably the only one ballsy enough to ASK his general for extended leave

“Excuse me, general Skywalker? I’ll need to take leave at this date.” “Oh, yea sure. You know what? That seems like a good time for all the men to take a break. Thanks, Fives.”

He’s also probably the only one ballsy enough to actually take his new born baby onto a fucking battleship to introduce everyone.

“This is your uncle Rex. This is your uncle Echo and your uncle Tup. That's your auntie Ahsoka!” “Fives what the FUCK are you doing?!” “Introducing the family, captain.”

#the clone wars x reader #captain rex x reader #commander wolffe #Commander Wolffe x reader #captain rex #commander fox #commander fox x reader #commander cody #commander cody x reader #arc trooper fives #fives x reader #star wars the clone wars #star wars headcanons #tw pregnancy #fluff #headcanons #tcw x reader

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deserthusbands · 5 months ago

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cody, after having watched it for a good few minutes as he and obi-wan debrief, finally brushes a stray hair from obi-wan's face: you're a bit of a mess, general.

obi-wan, chuckling fondly: thank you, my dear. i suppose i am.. yet here you are acting as though you aren't all scratched up.

anakin, watching from a distance: ugh..

#commander cody #star wars the clone wars #obi wan kenobi #codywan #obi wan x cody #incorrect quotes #codywan incorrect quotes #anakin is icked out #nobody will believe him #he has connected the dots #anakin #anakin skywalker #step dad cody core #post battle codywan fluff is absolute peak !!#wrote this up at 3:34am please bear with me

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spiderbae2319 · 1 year ago

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Ok so Obi-Wan is a total badass. Fought countless adversaries, was a high general of the GAR, and laid out Vader TWICE.

But when it’s him and Cody? He’s Cody’s babyboy.

He shoulders so much that he needs someone who can take care of HIM for a change. Someone who puts him first, because he certainly won’t do that for himself.

And Cody, who’s never been allowed to have anything for himself, needs someone to love and cherish. Someone to protect, finally something that’s just HIS.

And that’s why they’re a perfect match, they’re everything the other could ever want or need.

#commander cody #obi wan kenobi #clone headcanons #the clone wars #clone wars #codywan #cody x obi wan #fluff #otp #made for each other

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itzshrike · 7 months ago

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Okay okay we already got tales of the Jedi and are getting tales of the empire but are we forgetting something? 🤨

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catboydogma · 3 months ago

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stuck in your sun/blinded just a little

codywan week 2024 sol master list (solsterlist)

@codywanweek 2024 day 6 prompts, sol edition: crèche master obi-wan, quiet love, touch starved

notes: title from rollin', rollin', rollin' (b.) by margot & the nuclear so and so's

wc: 1,529

cross-posted to ao3

Obi-Wan was teaching a class in the salles when Cody got in. He was fresh off a debrief with the High Council and Fox, still in his dress greys with his cap tucked under one arm. The halls of the Temple were quiet at this time of day. Most were at midmeal or otherwise engaged. After two years of sporadic berthing at the Temple in between engagements, Cody had gotten used to its rhythms and the ways of its inhabitants—now both troopers and Jedi.

Cody suspected that this particular generation—class—crèche—of Initiates would grow to be right terrors in combat. Fox had told him that Kenobi was wasted at the Temple after catching the tail end of one of his sparring sessions—Cody disagreed. A good trainer made all the difference between life and death. And it was clear that this was where Obi-Wan truly shone. He loved to teach, to heap praise upon the younglings while nipping bad habits in the bud and reinforcing ones that would save their lives years into the future.

“I don’t suppose you would mind assisting in our next demonstration, Commander?” Obi-Wan called across the salle, flicking his hair out of his eyes with a shake of his head. A roguish wink caught Cody nearly tripping over his own boots as he crossed the mats. Little heads bobbed in his direction as the Initiates and young Padawans gave him bows of greeting and Cody nodded back to them in return.

He had to be a familiar sight in the back of Obi-Wan’s classes by now. Cody tried not to linger on that thought as it crossed his mind.

“Midmeal after this on me for your cooperation,” Obi-Wan said. He clasped Cody’s hand in a more familiar greeting. His teeth gleamed against his beard in a quick but fond smile that made Cody’s heart feel like it was rattling in the cage of his ribs.

This was just unfair.

“Bribery of military personnel is a serious offence, Crèche Master.” Cody only just barely caught the corner of his mouth as it tried to twitch upwards.

“Oh, no,” Obi-Wan said with entirely too much severity. Cheeky bastard. “What slanderous accusations against my good name. Bribery? My dear, consider this a token of my… esteem.”

Aha. Right. Cody gave Obi-Wan a wry look at that. He had been holding Obi-Wan’s hand for too long. Maybe. It was hard to say. It would be strange to pull away now. Or it would be strange to linger even further. He settled on a compromise and gave Obi-Wan’s a light squeeze before dropping his hand.

“As promised—” Obi-Wan gave his class an indulgent look and Cody realized just what he had gotten into with a dawning sense of horror. “—we’ll be finishing up this lesson with one on how to block an opponent going for a grapple, especially one focused on disarming you.”

Obi-Wan liked to keep his terrors in line by promising little extracurricular treats at the ends of his lessons, contingent on “reasonable behaviour” and timeliness. Hand-to-hand was popular but so were a variety of other random but entertaining lessons—knitting, fleecing a table in Sabacc, parlor tricks with cards and dice, making the perfect batch of tiny papple tarts.

“Just a basic disarm will do,” Obi-Wan said to him, voice quieter now that he wasn’t projecting it across the room. “We’ll show them a successful one, and then I’ll counter you on the second try, if that’s alright by you.”

“It’s a sound plan.” Cody nodded and took a ready position: shoulders angled towards Obi-Wan, hands loosely curled into fists guarding his face and the sides of his head, feet planted wide.

Obi-Wan sank into the basic ready stance for Soresu with one open palm extended towards Cody. His lightsaber hilt gleamed in his other hand, turned off for the time being. “In your own time, darling.”

Just a quick grapple with the most handsome Jedi on Coruscant. Not a problem at all. Cody tipped his head in a nod and lunged. A palm strike to Obi-Wan’s wrist knocked his guard wide open. The Jedi shifted to react and brought his saber hilt forward as if to strike Cody—in a real spar it would be on—and Cody easily caught his shoulder and forearm in a lock. A quick twist and Obi-Wan’s hand spasmed open—his lightsaber hilt fell to the padded floor of the salle.

“Well done,” Obi-Wan said. He sounded inordinately pleased—and strangely out of breath. Cody watched the column of his stubbled throat move as he spoke. This close, he could smell Obi-Wan’s lightly spiced aftershave and a faint undercurrent of the sweat he’d worked up over the course of the class. They were pressed body to body in a way that had every inch of Cody’s skin itching with something unnamable. He wanted to get impossibly closer. He wanted to let Obi-Wan wrestle him down to the mats and press him into the ground with his own body weight. He wanted—

“I’m sure you’ve already thought of ten ways to get out of this,” Cody replied. “Again?”

“If you don’t mind,” Obi-Wan said. They disengaged and Obi-Wan raised his voice again to address the class of younglings. “That is one of many ways an opponent might try to disarm you or take your lightsaber out of play. In some scenarios, a simple Force pull can get it back into your hand. In others, it’s best not to let go of your ‘saber in the first place. We’ll go full speed for a counter, then half, then walk you through each step before you get to try it yourselves.”

At a nod, Cody settled back into his ready position and bounced lightly on the balls of his feet to keep limber before springing forward. This time Obi-Wan moved with Cody’s initial blow and lowered his shoulder against Cody’s lock. With the angle all off, Cody couldn’t get the right leverage and Obi-Wan easily broke free without losing his lightsaber.

They did this again. And again. And again. Each time Cody had to grit his teeth against the confused sensations thrilling through his chest, the way the pressure and warmth of Obi-Wan’s touch made his nerves fire strangely. They were both sweaty by the time the class was over and Cody had shed his dress jacket for the freedom and relative coolness of his undershirt. Obi-Wan’s only concession to the exertion had been loosening the collar of his tunics and removing his uppermost tabards.

Cody tried his best to keep his eyes from gravitating to the slice of collarbone and curly auburn chest hair that peeked through the open gape of Obi-Wan’s tunics, but even he had his limits. There was more red there and in his beard than in his hair. A little more gray, too.

“—in the Temple for long?” Obi-Wan asked, tossing his hand wraps into his bag.

It took gargantuan effort for Cody to tear his eyes away from ogling Obi-Wan’s chest—Prime’s sake, pull yourself together, man warred with could fit in my hand bet his skin tastes… in his head.

“Only, I feel rather guilty about coercing you into a workout and then strongarming you into midmeal with me right after. Would you like to come back to my quarters for a quick shower, or at least a glass of water…?” Obi-Wan slid Cody a sly glance from under his eyelashes.

Cheeky bastard.

“I thought the accusations of coercion were slander and libel against your good name,” Cody replied. “I don’t mind it. I wouldn’t have come if I hadn’t wanted to help out—it’s good. To be a part of the classes,” he hastily tacked on.

Obi-Wan pressed the palm of his hand to Cody’s cheek in silent thanks. A smile lit his eyes with warmth and deepened the crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes. “In that case, I appreciate your thoughtfulness and foresight. My dashing Commander.”

Cody swallowed, mouth suddenly dry. “Not a problem—Obi-Wan.” He leaned his face into the touch despite himself and his skin finally settled. The warmth of Obi-Wan’s skin and roughness of his callouses almost felt familiar in a strange way. Being Marshal Commander of the Third Systems Army and the most elite infantry company in the GAR took its toll. Even if Cody never acknowledged it. If he never admitted to it, then it wasn’t happening to him. Simple enough. He maintained a professional distance from his subordinates at all times—others could be lax in their discipline, but not Cody. Never Cody.

But Obi-Wan was not in the GAR chain of command. He wasn’t quite a civilian, either, and so still intimately connected to the war effort and the lives of Cody and his vod’e.

So he allowed Obi-Wan to pick up his cap and carry Cody’s overnight duffle for him, and he allowed Obi-Wan to sling an arm across his shoulders in a haphazard, warmly affectionate way that Cody so rarely got. He allowed himself to bask in Obi-Wan’s touch and attentions, and—just as good—allowed himself to touch back.

#a heat rash in the shape of the show me state #codywan #commander cody #obi-wan kenobi #the jedi order #the jedi temple #tcw #tcw fanfic #codywanweek2024 #codywan week 2024 #quiet love #touch starved #hurt/comfort #(mild)#fluff

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raphaerolo · 5 months ago

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Last Line Challenge

I'm pretty sure there were rules to this but i forget the specifics and anyway i got tagged by @lothcatthree :)

It's actually been a bit since i've written or drawn, like a couple days, and i can't remember which i did last so i'll just dump two entirely unrelated wips here to optimize the whiplash

First of all: Hockeyyyyy au

I love bloody hockey obi wan i think it's a good look and i love this au, it will not leave my head. I'm still messing with the colours and I believe my last line was the blood on his jersey ❤️

Second of all: writinggg 😅, which happens to be some codywan fluff from one of my wips. I think i might've worked on this after the drawing

Obi-wan’s hands lingered on his face, brushing the cold droplets left by snow away, absently exploring. Cody was silent, not able to think of a single thing to say with obi wan so close to him. His breath hitched when he brushed his thumb against his bottom lip. Even that light touch sent his head spinning and tilted the world on its axis — cody couldnt think straight.

“Cody, can I…?” Obi-Wan breathed.

“I dont know, can you?” He murmured before instantly regretting his entire life and wanting to scream at himself for that remark- just shut up and say yes, hes literally offering—

Obi-Wan laughed, so undeniably him, that it brought cody out of his mental spiral. “May I?”

“If you must.”

“I think I might just,” he murmured before closing the

This is legit where i left it lol

Tagging @lightasthesun @snowywinterevenings @anxiousotters and anyone else who wants to play and if you remember the rules that could be helpful

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kometqh · 6 months ago

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐝

Viscount!Captain Rex x Maid!F!Reader Pt. 2, Pt.3, Pt.4 The Viscount is a renowned bachelor, known for his kindness, his wits and his charm. Ladies from across the planet swoon over him, visit him, are denied by him. He is a respectable, well-known man. What nobody seems to know is his knack for venturing out into the night, returning home with treasures, jewels, drinks, and most of all, ladies of the night. What does one do when they are caught red-handed, by none other than a lowly maid? Word Count:3,474 Warnings: Descriptions of sexual activity, minor swearing, also halfway unedited (will work on that). If I missed anything (pls im not good with tags) please let me know! ^^ A/N: This Rex fanfic idea took over my brain and I already have the whole story planned out and I'm in love <33

The evening burned so hot; the arid August air grazed through your lungs like gravel. The usually rackety crickets were unusually quiet, except for the occasional croak. The steady drip, drip, drip of water filled the still evening. And then, as your hands wrenched the dirty water from the rag, a hushed groan trickled from around the corner. It was quickly suppressed, but you had heard it. Slowly, you stood up from your crouched position, you abandoned the rug on the concrete. As far as you were aware, all the residents of the Viscounts’ manor were asleep. You took a step forward, craning your head in the direction of where the sound came from. Nothing. Just the occasional hum of crickets and your steady breathing.

With a few more steps forward, your heart leaped to your throat. It wasn’t nothing. Someone was there. Hidden behind the arched wall and doorway that separated the manor from the extensive, plush green, mile-long fields. Were they intruders? But the manor was so far out into the countryside. It would take hours to get there by carriage, never mind by foot. Who would bother going that far? But it was a possibility. An unlikely one, but still a possibility.

The grass was soft beneath your bare feet, cold and tickling as you inched closer and closer. Your thoughts were racing, and your heart was punching vigorously on your ribcage. What were you going to do, if they were in fact, intruders?

As you reached the wooden doorway you noticed it was slightly ajar. Enough to fit an arm through it, enough to not be seen by anyone unless they were standing directly in it, watching. The wood was harsh against your palm as you leaned against it, scraping warningly on your fingertips.

Your heart dropped. Your throat dried. Your breath hitched in your throat as you looked up.

Breathy, desperate muffled moans, the ruffle of expensive silks and fine cotton, the rhythmic sound of skin against skin. It felt as though a bucket of cold water had been splashed in your face. This… You’d been hired as a House Maid. Previously you had worked in a number of different roles, so you had seen all the different kinds of dirty and awful in homes and manors alike. This wasn’t one of them. This was a situation you found yourself stunned at. Confused at. What were they doing?

The woman’s hair covered their faces, lending them some privacy in such an intimate, and yet such vulgar moment. Who were they? Servants? No. The clothing was too expensive, this place too hidden. All you knew was that this was deliberate. Whether you were meant to find them was a coincidence or not, you weren’t sure.

Unexpectedly, the woman leaned her head back. Her lips, coloured some finest shade of red, gaped openly at the sky above. You didn’t recognise her. But the male who had trapped her against the wall – you knew his face all too well.

He was your employer.

The Viscount.

A light gasp escaped you, realisation crashing into you like a carriage into a boulder. His head snapped in your direction.

Surprise gleamed in his eyes, but he continued his ministrations, his gaze locked onto you. As if he had casted a spell, you found yourself unable to move. Your feet were cemented to the ground, your lungs still as you held your breath. You were a mere statue, your gaze forever stuck on the pair before you. There was a glint of a warning in his irises, as if he was daring you to make a sound, daring you to interrupt him.

Your gaze wavered, straying to glance at the darkness behind.

The amber glow of a nearby lamp was the only source of light, the only thing that allowed you to comprehend what was truly happening. It flickered with each gentle breeze that passed, swaying alluringly on the burning wick. It burned warm, so warm you could almost feel the scalding, waxy trail of it across your skin. The fields behind were pushed away into the background, swallowed in complete and utter darkness, the forests looming in the far distance like a shadow. Whatever was lurking out there would have been a more welcome disturbance than what you were witnessing up close. You felt like a meagre, frightened insect tangled up and struggling in a sticky web you had no business soaring into.

The Viscounts’ voice snapped your attention back to him. No, it commanded you.

“Look at me.” He rasped out, and for a moment you faltered. You weren’t sure whether the command was directed at you, or the mystery woman. Were you beginning to get caught up in a fantasy you had no right to dream?

With another moan, she gripped the Viscount’s face, pulling it towards her. “Kiss me.” She uttered, looking up at him through a fan of thick, dark eyelashes. He was quick to oblige, leaning forward, pressing his lips against hers. His gaze slowly abandoned you, and so did the spell with it. Your feet no longer felt stuck, your hands no longer felt ice cold, and your breaths no longer felt suppressed.

Like a fawn, you scurried away, bunching your skirts in your hand. Your feet carried you as fast and as quiet as they could. Your sight landed on the wooden bucket you had abandoned, and with one hand, you reached for it. You couldn’t leave any traces behind. You couldn’t risk losing your job.

“What was I thinking?” You muttered to yourself as you entered the manor again, heading straight for the kitchens. How long had you spent staring and gaping at them? Surely long enough for the images to replay vividly in your mind, long enough for all the floors to dry up. The tiles sparkled like thousands of miniscule diamonds under the low glow of candles. Vases of ruby pink and white, carefully picked out roses littered the hallways, spaced exactly five metres apart until they stopped just before the kitchens.

One hand reached for the door, pushing on it with vigour.

In your hurry, you forgot one thing.

The doors creaked and protested loudly, the sound bouncing off the walls. You flinched, gripping the doors. You stopped them from moving, and warily glanced over your shoulder. Not a living soul in sight.

“Thank the lord.” You whispered, and silently slipped through the small space.

The door closed behind you with a soft thump, and you allowed yourself to take a deep breath. Through the nose, into the chest. You counted to three, holding your breath, before slowly exhaling. You repeated the motion as you emptied the bucket and hung the rags to dry. You continued it as you made your way to your small, closet-sized bedroom. Your steps were small, timid as you feared of walking past someone, anyone. Fear prickled at your skin; every sound of the manor caused goosebumps to flare up on your skin like a rash.

You couldn’t feel more relieved when the small, wooden door came into view. Gently, you twisted the doorknob, letting yourself in.

You let it stay open, just long enough to light a single candle.

The flame flickered as it grew, warmth extending from the wick to your fingertips. It engulfed the room in a fading orange glow as you closed and locked the door. The only sound in the room was your deep inhales and exhales, and the light creak of your bed as it dipped under your weight.

Your heart was pounding, blood thrumming deafeningly in your skull. Your stomach twisted in an unfamiliar knot, and a burning sensation settled at your core long ago. Your thoughts were quiet, replaying the sight like a melody on a gramophone.

You had stood there long enough to imprint the sight into your memory.

You could recount every second of the encounter, every drawn-out breath, every sound a scullery maid like you shouldn’t hear, as if you were a sinner in church.

“I’ll be lucky if I still have a job and a roof over my head in the morning.” You muttered to yourself as you stood up, readying for bed. You had a long day ahead tomorrow, to be sure.

But as you lay under the duvet, your mind couldn’t stop replaying the memory.

Those golden, dangerous eyes.

Morning rolled around faster than you had expected, your eyes snapping open when someone knocked loudly on your door. You scurried out of your bed, wrapping a stray blanket over your chest.

“Coming!” You shouted, searching for your shoes. You searched under your bed, and next to your small closet. They were nowhere to be found.

Two more knocks, and you moved towards the door. Screw it, you’d find your shoes later.

As the lock turned and the hinges swung, you were greeted with a surprising sight. The Housekeeper was at your door.

“Mrs Opal? What can I do for you?” You had asked, fighting hard to keep your surprise at bay.

The woman scorned you with a glare, her lips drawn into a thin line. She looked you up and down, her hands neatly folded behind her back. After a silent moment, she spoke up.

“The Viscount has requested your presence in his study… He says there is a matter he must discuss with you. Get dressed and make your way to the First Floor.” She said promptly, walking away before you had a chance to even think of a response. Confusion was clear on your features as you peered out, watching the Housekeeper disappear round the corner.

What did the Viscount himself want to do with you?

You shook your head, mumbling profanities under your breath. The door closed with a loud thud behind you as you began searching for your neatest piece of clothing. The best you could do was the violet petticoat given to every member of staff. Working as fast as you could, with practiced, experienced hands, you were dressed within minutes.

As your hand landed on the doorknob, your stomach churned. What could be so strangely important that the Viscount wished to speak to you?

Your footsteps were light and hurried as you made your way through the hallways, your voice soft as you greeted the other members of staff. The kitchens were already busy, with cooks and maids scrambling about to deliver breakfast to the family.

The footmen were at their stations, nodding lightly to you as you passed each one by. The rows of ruby pink and creamy white roses were a welcome sight, and a sense of calm washed over you. Whatever it was, it couldn’t have been so bad. Maybe, possibly, you were about to receive the opportunity of a lifetime.

Your thoughts didn’t stray even as you made your way up the stairwell, the soft thud of your footsteps the only sound coming from the lower floors.

And, as you reached the first floor, you were greeted with the sight of the Housekeeper and the Steward moving animatedly, deep in discussion. They seemed to be… Aggravated. No, perhaps quarrelling.

They stopped as you approached slowly, your hands entwined together at your front.

“There you are. You look presentable.” Was the highest appraisal Mrs Opal could lend out. You gave a curt nod, thanking her quietly. The steward remained silent; his bird brown eyes trained on you. “Now follow us. The Viscount shouldn’t be made to wait.” She continued, leading you down the hallways. More light flooded the upper floor, and you couldn’t help but admire the view of the windows from afar. The ground floor and basements lacked natural light or windows, and it was more common for you to be scrubbing something during daylight hours.

Mrs Opal and the Steward exchanged no more words in your presence, choosing to remain distant and silent. Their footsteps remained as light as a phantom’s, almost floating on the soft, teal carpet. They served their purpose; chilling you to the bone with anticipation and uneasiness.

The air felt cleaner up here, you noted. More windows had been opened, allowing fresh, countryside air to waft in. Along with it came the harmonious chirps of songbirds and insects alike. You rubbed the material of your skirt between your fingers, doing your best to wipe any sweat off as the doors to the Viscount’s study came into view. As the three of you came to a stop, Mrs Opal and the Steward exchanged glances, before turning to you. This time, the Steward spoke up

“When in the presence of the Viscount, you do not speak unless spoken to. You do not look at him, unless you are requested to do so. You do not sit unless you are permitted to. And last of all, we refer to the Viscount as ‘Lord’. Are we clear?” His voice was like a nail under a tool, sharp and unrelenting as he hammered the rules into your skull.

“Yessir.” You answered quietly, not looking up.

“Wonderful.” He responded, and inched closer to the door. He raised a gloved fist to the door, and knocked three, distinct and perfected knocks, as if the rhythm and consistency of a knock varied from situation to situation. The doors opened before him, the hinges silent, unlike the ones on the ground floor.

“Come in.” A soft voice instructed, and the three of you walked in in a single file. The Steward led at the front, Mrs Opal stationed in the middle, and you at the end. The doors were closed behind your figure, and you failed to hide your jitteriness as you jumped slightly. However, you did succeed in supressing the urge to look back. Your head remained tilted downwards, your sight focused on the diamond-patterned carpet beneath your feet. A short-lived relief surged through you as you remembered; you had lost your shoes. You were essentially barefoot on the Viscount’s expensive carpet. The morning had already had a rocky start, what was next?

“This is the House Maid you requested to see, my Lord. Is there anything else you need, my Lord?” The Stewards’ voice softened, his stern posture shrinking under the gaze of the Viscount.

He must have whispered or something, as you were caught by surprise when both the Steward and Mrs Opal stuttered in confusion, and you once again had to fight the urge to look up.

“Must I repeat myself?” The Viscount asked, his voice deep and gravelly. Someone must have had an early morning, you thought to yourself.

The Steward shook his head, gesturing for Mrs Opal to follow him.

The doors opened, the sound of a few pairs of footsteps retreating reached you, before they swung again.

Your heart thrummed in your chest, flapping wildly like the wings of a hummingbird. Were the two of you alone? If so… Why?

You swallowed the forming lump in your throat, rubbing the pads of your thumbs on the cotton material of your skirt. Why was he so quiet? Were you meant to look up? No. The Steward – you really should have asked for his name – was stern on telling you to avoid doing so.

So what was the Viscount waiting for?

“You may look up, little one.” His voice was coarse, finer than the most miniscule, smoothest grains of sand on Tattooine. Heat rushed to your face, and you questioned whether it was from the uneasiness you felt or embarrassment. As your eyes met his, recognition rushed through you.

Those golden eyes. Stern, solid and unrelenting. And yet… There was something else. Something you couldn’t quite decipher as your heart leaped into your throat.

“Recognise me?” He asked softly, his voice just barely above a whisper.

Should you lie? Should you be truthful? Which option would ensure you’d keep your job?

A soft laugh bubbled in his chest. Your gaze wavered, and you found solace in focusing on the cedarwood desk separating him from you. You decided on the latter.

“Y- Yes, my Lord. You’re the Viscount, my e- employer.” You stuttered out softly, wincing as you seemed to be doing everything but looking confident and calm. Surely, this was some cruel joke. You were sure you had dreamed up the events of last night after collapsing into your bed from exhaustion. It couldn’t be true. It couldn’t be real.

You allowed yourself to look up at him once more, and your chest tightened at his expression.

He seemed to be amused by all this.

“Let us not beat around the bush, and get straight to the point. I know what you saw, little one. But do you know what’ll happen to you now?” He questioned once more, challenging you to look away. He was relaxed and yet domineering, confident, his form leaning against the chair, his legs spread wide open. He was the one with all the power here, as much as you wished he wasn’t.

You took in a deep, shaky breath before replying.

“I’ll be removed from my position as House Maid immediately, my Lord.” Your voice was steady as you maintained eye contact, your breathing method calming you down.

He remained quiet, observing you like a hawk watching its next meal. His thumb caressed the plush softness of his bottom lip in slow, circular motions.

“If I may be dismissed, my Lord, I shall go and pack my belongings.” You tried again, before you paused. You broke Rule Number One. Do not speak unless spoken to. The Viscount betrayed none of his thoughts at your mishap, though he quirked a curious brow at you.

But what did it matter if you were about to lose your job anyway? And with that, you went against your better judgement once more.

“If I’m honest, though, you shouldn’t be so… Intimate with a strange woman at late hours of the night in your back garden, my Lord. At that point you are begging to be caught. So, technically speaking, it is not my fault,” You paused, pursing your lips, “If it were any other servant, the whole manor would know by now.”

Kriff. What were you thinking?

He gave a soft hum in response, his posture straightening up.

“You dare speak to your employer so… Callously?” He questioned, but you didn’t grace him with another smart-ass response. You had dug yourself a deep enough grave already, you might as well forget your headstone.

“To ease your confusion, I wasn’t aware that any servant would be working at such late hours of the night. I also own this manor, and do you know what the word ‘own’ means?” He questioned, quirking a brow at you, again. “It means it belongs to me, it means I can do as I please, with whomever I please, wherever I please. Does that aid you in your confusion?” He rounded his desk, his footsteps light and calculated right until his chest was inches from yours, his figure towering over you. Your breathing stopped completely, your eyes almost bulging out from their sockets as your heart raced faster than a horse. You had royally, majorly pissed him off, haven’t you?

Unexpectedly, a soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips. The crease between his brow eased up, and for once, the Viscount looked relaxed.

“I admire your confidence, little one. No one has ever spoken to me so… Plainly. Rudely, even. But I’d reign it in a little, for future reference. I’m not going to dispose of you, no.” He whispered, searching your eyes with his own, as if there was a lost treasure buried deep within the vibrant colours of your irises.

“You’re… Not?” You asked again, swallowing harshly. Clearly he wasn’t too bothered by your obvious disregard for the rules he imposed on the servants.

He shook his head, still smiling down at you.

“No. I’m instead promoting you. You’ll work as my personal servant, after all, I can’t have you be free to gossip about my nightly endeavours to anyone. Wouldn’t you agree, little one?” He cocked his head to the side, eyeing you up and down.

Heat rushed over your face like a flame, burning and scalding until you were left as nothing but ashes. Why was he so relaxed? So calm? What was going on?

You blinked once, then twice, before remembering to breathe. His scent flooded your senses, until all that you could think of and feel was the Viscount himself. He smelled like a warm, wet spring day, of pine needles and steady streams of water. Was this man anything but perfect?

His fingers gently cupped your chin, tilting your head upwards until he had your entire attention focused on him.

“What do you think?” He inquired again, dissatisfied with your lack of response.

You fought your way out of his touch, shaking your head.

“W- What?”

Tags: @actuallybarb <33

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toomanybandstocare · 1 year ago

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okay okay okay!! 🎉 you said send as many as i like so here we go- no pressure of course!!

polaroid album + sneaking around + midsummer dance - all of them centred around around reader x cody and a forbidden workplace romance ? only if you’re comfortable with it !! 💛

.𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓.𖥔 ݁ ˖ - Sneaking Around

Drabble for a character x reader of your request. @obixwan requested a forbidden work romance with Cody. I hope you enjoy, and thank you so much for sending in this request!

Pairing: Modern, CEO! Cody x Modern, GN! Reader

Genre: Fluff

Length: 1537w

Warnings: Light alcohol (reference, setting at a bar's private room, a single sip), Cody can't keep his hands to himself, Couple of cusses

Counselor Notes: Okay, it's not smutty or anything like that. But I just really needed some comfort after at the day at work I had. As I think about this pairing more, I think Cody would definitely be more focused on Reader's wellbeing and put his needs aside. The two of them deal with all the craziness and frustration that comes with being top in the business world, but when the two of them finally come together and let go of it - the world just melts away and they have each other. I also just know this man's love language is physical touch, but I don't think he actually realizes it. He just needs to be touching you in some sort of way.

Accompanying Midsummer Dance & Polaroid Album

-> Celebration Announcement Post <- -> Celebration Masterlist <- -> Camp Resolute Masterlist <-

Your dress shoes click against the cracked pavement as rain drops begin to splat alongside each step you take. Echoes of board member complaints ricochet inside your skull which cause your heart to pound against your chest. Every breath you force into your lungs struggles to ease the frustration that flames through your body.

Bodies lightly jostle you in the sidewalk’s crowd as the evening bustle floods the street right at five o’clock on the dot. Everyone’s eager to end the work day by either rushing home and forgetting about the day or joining friends for dinner at the latest restaurant featured in the press. Normally, you’d join the first group after an unsuccessful business deal, but Friday nights are reserved for drinks at your favorite speakeasy.

Feeling one rain drop followed by several others landing hard on your blazer’s shoulder, you curse under your breath and rush to the well-worn, creaky pub’s entrance. The sight of a faded and chipped wooden sign with 79s in swirling calligraphy causes your shoulders to relax. Your hands grasp the door’s handle, and you carefully slip into the pub with a breath of relief. As soon as you close the door behind and take one step into the barroom, a warmth envelopes you from the blazing fireplace on the side of the room. Rickety tables with clusters of upholstered chairs around them creates a small maze on the floor of the bar’s dining area. On the opposite side, a wooden bar lines the length of the old building until it hits the back corner where a faint light illuminates the stained glass windows of the private room.

“He’s already here,” Dex gruffly answers the same question that rests on the tip of your tongue every week. Sparing a moment from the crowd of loose ties and business suits, Dex flashes you a knowing smile and nods back to the private room.

“Put on my tab this time, would you?” you call over your shoulder as you push through the crowd of exhausted business people.

“I’m afraid you should have gotten here first if you wanted that,” Dex cackles as he turns to address the rush of patrons.

Your cheek twitches. Not even a single word in, and it seems like he’s looking to add to all the frustration weighing down on you. Taking purposeful strides, you narrowly weave between patrons and quickly reach the private room. Without a pause, you push the door open and shut it closed behind you.

“Unbelievable,” you hiss as you flick the lock. “You paid last week. We have a deal”. Dropping your bag onto the end of the leather booth seat, you don’t even think about the heated words that fall from your mouth.

“Two things,” Cody’s smooth voice warms the small room. His careful gaze watches as you try to take off your blazer in a hurry, and he slips out of the booth to stand behind you. He rests his hands on your shoulders to stop your hasty movements as his lips rest against the shell of your ear.

“One, I heard about the Becker deal. Poor decision on their end, but at least your portfolio won’t take a hit from adding them to your clientele,” Cody murmurs before he presses a lingering kiss to the crown of your head. His heart swells as he feels you slowly relax and lean against his chest slightly.

“Two, I wanted to do something nice for you after a shitty day, mesh’la”. Cody’s fingertips softly run along your shoulders and over them to slip under the collar of your blazer. A smile tugs at his lips as he feels you shiver under his touch.

Taking a slight step back, Cody helps you with your blazer. After he neatly places your folded jacket over your bag, Cody’s hands find their home on your hips. Concern sparks through him as you fall quiet and let him turn you to face him. “I know leaving everything we deal with at the door is impossible, especially with our work phones ringing every five minutes, but our relationship is not a transaction,” Cody softly reminds you. He moves one hand up to gently cup your jaw and make you meet his caring expression.

You purse your lips. The overwhelming whirlwind of emotion coursing through you urges you to bite back. When you open your mouth to argue, the words escape you as Cody raises one eyebrow. “This is one of the few times you will ever hear me say you’re right,” you mutter with resignation and fall into his chest. Fatigue from the week’s looming deadline finally sinking into your aching bones. Wrapping your arms around his waist, you take a deep breath. The comforting scent of the old bar and Cody’s warm, spice cologne wash away the last of the thoughts gnawing at the back of your mind. Cody’s chest rumbles with laughter, and you hum. “How was your week?” you quietly ask.

“Don’t get me started on Drake,” Cody mutters. He tucks his face into the crook of your neck and places teasing kisses up your neck with a groan. “I would much rather focus on the time I have with you than sharing the details of his fuck up that almost cost us the pitch”.

You sigh and push at Cody. Not having to utter another word, the two of you tumble into your Friday night tradition as you fall into the booth like you do every week. A glass of your favorite drink waits by Cody’s glass of whiskey on the table as the two of you settle into the worn leather cushions. Tucking yourself into Cody’s side, your fingertips trail over his no slightly wrinkle white button up shirt. “What if we went on a vacation? After this week, we both could use some time away from prying eyes and press. We could hide away at my beach house” you muse lightly. Your gaze follows Cody’s arm as he reaches for his glass, and you notice he has his sleeves rolled up, showing off the toned muscles of his arm.

Cody wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you as close as possible. A chuckle falls from his lips as he catches you eyeing him. “I somehow think that would lead to trouble, especially if it has anything to do with a trip to your beach house,” Cody’s voice drops to a low, teasing murmur. Taking a sip of his drink, the cool whiskey coats his tongue. A man of composure and control, Cody only ever orders a whiskey on the rocks after a week that has him actually considering retiring early. The warmth that flows through his body eases the stinging worries from the weight of the work week. Yet, nothing compares when Cody looks down and meets your tired expression. The yellow light shining down from the green glass, overhead lamp envelopes you in a glow that highlights your eyes.

Regardless of how long the two of you have gone without seeing each other or the type of week you’ve had, the pair of you melt into each other’s embrace the minute you stumble into the old fashioned barroom. There’s not a single moment where Cody wishes he did something different. Even if it meant he didn’t have to be at the beck and call of shareholders, Cody would choose the same every time because it let him meet you. Taking his free hand, Cody runs a finger over your cheek softly and then opens his palm to let you lean into his touch. His heart stutters as you peer up through your lashes. “I think some time off sounds perfect,” Cody whispers. His voice nearly wavers, almost afraid if he were to speak any louder the moment would shatter. That he would wake up in a cold sweat, alone in his bedroom, and this would only be a dream.

But it wasn’t. You turn your head and press a featherlight kiss to his palm before looking up at him again. “You deserve some time to decompress and enjoy life. And I’d like to be there with you, if you’d have me. Either way, you need to take care of yourself. I also know for a fact that your admin team needs a week to prepare for the pitch to turn into a project, it’s the chance you’ll have to step away before the project wraps,” you softly implore. You sit up and run a hand through Cody’s hair pulling a grateful moan from his plush lips. Watching him slowly sink into the booth and slowly nod, you bite back a smile. The two of you working non-stop has left little time for anything else, and the slightly sunken bags underneath Cody’s eyes have you worried.

“Where do you want to go?” Cody asks with a lazy smirk. Pride blooms as your cheeks flush with excitement, and Cody peers up through his lashes as he listens to your destination suggestions. Thoughts of breakfast in bed after a night tangled together with needy touches or skinny dipping at your private beach already have him looking forward to putting in his time off.

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