#Hunter Cruiser

[handsome-robot]

Matt and Nick Jackson have arrived and are CAUSING A RUCKUS!

[cevansbrat0007]

A Friend in the Dark Part II

Summary: After receiving an unexpected call from you in the middle of the night, Ari's not going to let anything stop him from getting to you. But will he make it in time? Takes place directly after the events in A Friend in the Dark: Part I.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, References to Home Invasion, Scared Reader, Pet Names, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Special thanks to my creative consultant, @curls-and-eyeliner, who helped me come up with the opening. Part my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

Ari Levinson’s P.O.V.

Although it feels like hours, it’s really only a matter of minutes before Ari finds himself pulling onto your street. Not wanting to call attention to himself, he immediately kills his headlights before throwing his truck into neutral, quietly gliding down the block. 

He already knows which home is yours – the one with the rose bushes out front. Stopping a couple houses down, the bounty hunter swiftly exits his vehicle. After triple-checking the gun in his waistband, he knows it’s time to make his way to you. 

Ari moves with lethal grace, his corded muscles tense and ready to strike should an enemy make the mistake of crossing his path. As he gets closer, he spots Milton’s cruiser parked a ways down the street.

Perfect.

The burly lawman tosses a brief glance over his shoulder, just to make sure he isn’t being followed – the last thing he needed was someone sneaking up behind him. A blow to the back of the head could be deadly, even for someone as big as him. 

He does a swift scan of your front yard, noting that nothing appears out of place. Holding his breath, Ari tunes his ears to the silence, quieting the sound of his own heartbeat as he wills his military instincts to take over. During his brief conversation with you, you’d said that the intruder had been at your back door.

Which meant that was exactly where he needed to be. Heaven help the fucker if he was dumb enough to still be there, scaring the shit out of his girl. 

He draws his gun and dispenses the safety, holding it low with both hands as he stealthily makes his way around the side of your house. It was time to confront whoever was out there, hiding in the dark like a coward. 

“Gotchu, motherfucker!” He barks, aiming his weapon in the air. 

Except there’s nobody there. 

Although he’s surprised, he remains on high alert. Keeping his head on a swivel, he slowly climbs the steps leading to your back porch. He takes a moment to examine the door, smoothing his fingers along the cracked, splintered wood. The frame itself is also bent and hopelessly warped.

It didn’t take an expert to see that someone had indeed been here at one point. Most likely trying to kick the damned thing down. The whole thing appeared to be hanging on by a thread as it was.

“Shit.” Ari hisses under his breath. Raking an agitated hand through his hair, he pulls out his phone and dials your number once again. “C’mon, baby. Answer the fucking phone for me.”

Why the fuck weren’t you picking up? Had the intruder managed to make their way inside some other way? Ice fills his veins at the prospect of someone holding you captive inside. Scaring you. Hurting you. 

If that something happened to you because he hadn’t gotten here fast enough, Ari would never be able to forgive himself. 

And just where the fuck was Milton? Out in the woods somewhere holding his dick?

At that moment, Ari makes a snap decision. He was determined to get into that house. Frankly, he’d already wasted enough time out here hemming and hawing as it was. Taking a step back and leveling the door with the most powerful kick he can muster, sending it flying open with a loud thunk. 

Taking no time to celebrate, the bounty hunter goes to make his way inside only to duck when he notices an object come flying at his head at the last second. Thankfully, it connects with the door frame instead of his skull.

Your P.O.V.

“Get the fuck out of my house!” You screech, swinging your bat wildly at the large figure that just tried to break their way into your home. “I’m crazy and I’ll kill you! Lord, help me, I’ll do it!” You continue swinging, attempting to keep the intruder at bay on your front porch until help arrives. 

“Wait – stop!” The intruder pleads, throwing up a hand in the dark as his weapon goes flying. 

“I’ve called the cops, you pig-fuckin’ bastard.” You spit, raising your Louisville Slugger high. They’re on their way and –”

“Goddamn it, baby!” Ari roars, scrambling away from the assault. “It’s me! I am the cops!”

That’s enough to knock the wind out of your sails almost immediately. Blood roaring in your ears, you belatedly realize that you’d almost just turned the very man who came to rescue you into a frickin’ vegetable. 

“Ari?” You whisper, finally allowing the bat to fall limply at your feet. “Oh…oh God.”

For a brief moment, all you can do is stare at each other. You, relieved to see him here. Him, relieved to see you unhurt. And it’s only as that feeling of relief begins to settle in is that you begin to shake. Covering your mouth with trembling hands, you watch the bounty hunter stand and collect his gun, before turning on the safety and tucking it back into the security of his jeans. 

“Hey there, sweetheart.” 

You don’t think. Don’t question. Instead you just launch yourself into his arms, praying that he’ll catch you.

Of course he does.

“Why the fuck didn’t you answer your phone?” He growls after a beat, pulling away to assess you for injuries. His large, warm hands make quick work of checking you out before gently cupping your face. “Huh? Why the fuck did you go quiet on me like that?”

You rest your smaller hands atop his as Ari brushes a feather-light kiss along your brow. His big body feels so tense beneath your touch. He’s wrapped so tightly, you’re almost certain he’s bound to go off at any moment. 

“I…” You swallow thickly as you will yourself to stop shaking. “I was trying to use the element of surprise. I took my phone with me but…when he started really trying to bust down the door I knew I had to do something, so I –”

“FREEZE!” A new voice yells, taking you both by surprise. Your bounty hunter immediately spins on his heel, pushing you behind him to protect you from view. 

Fucking Milton had finally arrived. A day late and a dollar short. 

“Jesus Christ, asshole.” Ari snarls, briefly raising his hands in the air long enough for the officer to recognize the fact that there was no discernable threat. “Where the hell have you been?”

“Got held up on the way here. I’ll, uh, tell you about it later, Levinson.” Is all he says, holstering his weapon. “You okay there, darlin?”

Later he would pull the lawman aside and let him know that someone had tried to hold him up. Make it difficult for him to get here as fast as the situation had warranted. It wasn’t quite suspicious, but still odd nevertheless. 

“She’s fine.” Ari answers on your behalf, circling a possessive arm around your waist. “Fine as can be, anyway.” He continues when you nod at his side. “Almost took my head off with a baseball bat before you got here.”

“Well, I reckon I wouldn’t expect anything less from one of The Creek’s champion softball players.” Milton responds with a tired grin, his hand coming up to massage the back of his neck. “How bad’s the damage to the door?”

“Eh…” Your bounty hunter attempts to shoo you inside with a guiding hand. “Whoever our guy is did a pretty good job damn near kicking the thing off the hinges. I just finished the job. I just wanna get her indoors so we can – wait.”

Ari stops cold, his entire body going stiff as if he’d only just realized something. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask, turning to face him, briefly halting his attempts to move you along. 

“You said you just got here?” You know the question is meant solely for Milton. 

“Yeah.” The officer responds, clearly perplexed by where Ari seems to be going with this. “Why?”

“Baby, you ain’t wearin’ nothing’ but a gown and slippers.” He murmurs, his lips hovering just above your ear. “Stop fightin’ me and go inside where it’s warm. Please.”

It’s an order, that much you can tell. But as much as you want to protest, you decide to do as you’re bid, leaving the two lawmen alone. 

Just this once.

“Good girl.” He praises you, still keeping his voice low even as his words warm your belly. “We’ll be along in a moment.”

Ari’s P.O.V.

“What’s up, Levinson?” Milton tries again once you’re safely out of earshot. 

“When I pulled in, there was a cruiser already parked halfway down the block. Assumed it was you and kept it moving.” 

“That’s awful strange.”

“I know.” Ari grunts, hands on his hips. “Did you call this out over the radio?”

“Well, yeah.” The officer shrugs as he wracks his brain for more details. “But nobody responded. Figured it would just be me and you and that would be enough.”

“Well, clearly someone else heard it.” Your bounty hunter snaps. “You didn’t see anyone when you pulled up? They weren’t still parked there?”

“No.” Milton scrubs a hand along his jaw. “I came the opposite way you did. Only saw your truck.” Turning on his flashlight he flashes it towards the woods beckoning along the edge of your property. “And did you see anyone trying to break-in when you got here?”

“No. But the damage was already done.”

“Think you chased ‘em off?”

“Maybe.” Ari murmurs, his tone rife with suspicion. “But I doubt it. Somethin’ tells me the fucker dipped before I even stepped foot on the lawn.” 

“Fucking. Awesome.” The officer blows out a tired breath. Turning off his flashlight, he lightly claps the other man on the shoulder. “Look. We ain’t gonna get anywhere with this shit tonight.”

“Yeah.” He drags out the word. “Yeah, I know.” God, he needed a fucking cigarette.

“It’s late. I still need to get her statement. We…we can pick this up in the morning.” 

With nothing else left to say, the confused and frustrated men head for your front porch. Regardless of wherever Milton stood on the subject, Ari vows to get to the bottom of this bullshit. 

But first he wanted – no, he needed – to see to you.

Your P.O.V.

It’s nearly 5:00am before Officer Milton walks out your front door, leaving you alone with the one man who had the power to keep you off balance. Right now the two of you are sitting in your kitchen, each sipping a mug of hot tea with an added splash of whiskey. 

Ari had been quiet for most of your conversation with the young officer, only interjecting where and when he felt it necessary. He’d also fetched you tissues when you started to cry, and even held your hand during the…more harrowing portion of your evening. 

“Thank you.” You tell him, your voice barely above a whisper when you finally break the silence. “For coming tonight.”

He wants to tell you that he’ll always come, whenever you call. But he can’t quite seem to summon up the words. So instead he simply settles on: “You’re welcome.”

“You…you don’t have to stay.”

“I know.” 

But Ari makes no move to get up. He’s not sure he’s capable of it. Not with you sitting here looking every inch the fragile little bird that you are. Now he knew that you, his woman, had two sides.

You were either his firebrand of a Duchess, or his sweet, soft little Bird. But what you didn’t know is that he was absolutely willing and wanting to keep you. Both of you. 

Clearing his throat, your bounty hunter leans back in his chair, his turbulent blue gaze clashing with yours. “You’re gonna need someone to fix that door.” His tone comes off a little more gruff than he intends.

With a sigh, you come to rest your head on your hand. “I’m afraid it’s too early for me to call the insurance company just yet.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

His response catches you completely off guard. You stare back at him with wide eyes, silently wondering how much the whiskey was talking. 

“Sweetheart.” Once again you find your hand encased in the warmth of his, squeezing gently. “It’s gonna take the insurance company days, if not weeks, to handle this. You and I both know you can’t go that long without a proper door.”

“But I still need to report it…” You protest, hating the fact that you can’t get your brain to work as fast as you would like. 

“So do that. But in the meantime, I’ve got a buddy who owes me a favor. I’ll get him and his boys out here and we’ll get you fixed up good and proper.” 

“I can’t afford that.” 

“Did anyone ask you to pay?” He responds, making it known that he had it in him to be just as stubborn as you. Releasing his grip, he scoots away from the table. Standing up, he picks up your mugs before depositing them in the sink. 

“Ari.” While you mean to sound firm, his name comes out more like a whine, making him smile. 

“How about you get on up to bed, hm?” He murmurs when he sees your head start to dip. Now that all that adrenaline had run its course, you were plum exhausted. “I’ll close up down here. Maybe find some tarp to put over that back door until we can get you the real thing.” 

“You’re so bossy.” 

“Hmph.” Ari grunts as he helps you stand. “Afraid it’ll only get worse the more I have to repeat myself.” 

Your sweet, yet incredibly stubborn lawman runs an affectionate hand over your curls. Unable to help yourself, you lean in, burying your face in his chest to inhale his scent. And even though part of you is waiting for him to push you away, you struggle not to melt on the spot when you feel him press a tender kiss on top of your head. 

“Off to bed with you, little Bird.” He rumbles after a minute, knowing this has already gone on longer than it should’ve. “Get a move-on, now.” 

You’re in such a haze that you don’t even bother to call him out over yet another stupid nickname. First Duchess and now this? You were gonna give this handsome jerk a piece of your mind after you got some sleep. Perhaps you’d threaten to peck his eyes out or something…

Leaning on him even as you plot, you don’t balk as he leads you toward the stairs. Nor do you complain when you feel a territorial hand settle on your hip as he guides you to the foot of your bedroom where he watches you climb into bed. And you decide to ignore the way your belly flutters when you hear him calling you his “good girl” one last time. 

END

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Killing Time: Prologue

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, includes violence, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: a job offer could be an escape from your old life, but the new one, may not hold freedom.

Characters: Kraven the Hunter, August Walker, Lloyd Hansen, James Conrad, God the Bounty Hunter, Court Gentry

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

“Yes, he’s here again,” your voice creaks as your hand shakes. “Please. I called yesterday…” And every other day for months. Almost a full year.

You peer out between the small space that divides curtain from window. The shadow looms, looking up at you. Your phone vibrates as the operator hems and haws on the other end.

“Are you sure it’s him?” She asks. They always doubt you. Report after report, phone call after phone call, and it’s always question, question, question. You sigh.

“Yes,” your voice peeks as you pull back and hide against the wall. “Yes, I know it’s him. He’s texting me.”

You don’t even need to check. It’s the same thing every time. Next, he’ll try to sneak in the front and be knocking at your apartment door.

“Well, ma’am, you say you’ve called before and we’ve sent a cruiser and we’ve filed reports. And this man keeps showing up, so what exactly do you want me to do now? I can’t issue you a safety order over the phone--”

“Excuse me?” You gasp. “Excuse me? Are you serious? I have an order already and much good it does me. I call you and I get accused of being dramatic and questioned. What I want is for someone to protect me.”

“Ma’am, don’t get abusive with me,” she warns. “Have you tried telling him to go away yourself?”

“Wow, wow,” you throw your hand out. “Really? Really? No, I never thought of it,” you say sarcastically, “is there someone else who can take me call? I really don’t feel safe.”

“If it makes you feel better, I can reroute an officer to you. Alright?” She speaks as if you’re a child. You’re too weak to argue anymore.

“Whatever,” you hang up.

You can’t do this anymore. You need to get out of here. Not that you didn’t think of it before but you can’t afford anything else. Your rent control is the only thing keeping you under a roof. You’ve already switched jobs, just to get away from him. There isn’t that much else up there.

You drag yourself through the shadows and sit on the bed. You exist in darkness. You don’t turn on the lights so he can’t see in. You keep the curtains shut. You only leave for work and always take a different exit, never the same route; not always the bus, not always the train.

And friends? What are those? Most of them took his side, said you were throwing around false accusations, and the others accused you of being obsessed. The single coworker you confided in told you to leave town. Wow, well, if you could afford that, you wouldn’t stay in this building with the grinding radiator and rattling fridge.

You look at your phone.

‘I see you.’ The message was sent while you were on the call with emergency services. Several more followed. ‘I just want to talk’; ‘you look so pretty’; ‘please, I love you’.

As you read each text, you can hear the last conversation you had with Jake. He’s a relic of your former friend group, the very reason for your dejection. It’s almost funny how the rest just cut ties but he won’t let go.

It all started with a kiss. A kiss and rejection. New Years Eve and the clock counted down. You didn’t expect him to turn and plant one on you and when you shoved him away, that dreamy look in his eyes turned to fury as you fled. New Year, New you, right?

The new you is scared and paranoid and tired. So, so tired.

You get up and move the chair in front of the door. Just in case. You retreat, keeping your phone close, and grab the extendable baton from the table. You sleep with both, if you can sleep. That night, you won’t.

You settle in on the couch. You don’t use the bedroom. You need an easy escape. You sit back against the cushions and scroll on your phone. It might be hopeless, but you trawl the job board and the apartment boards. You might find a nugget of gold in all the pebbles.

You sign into the job site and see the red dot in the corner. It’s always a marketing promo. ‘Recommending’ a job you don’t qualify for or an invitation for an MLM scheme. It’s a joke. You don’t understand how anyone ever gets a job but everyone seems to have a better one than you.

You tap the inbox to make the red dot go away. You hate it floating in the corner of your vision. Your thumb twitches and hovers over the screen as you read the subject line. Hm.

‘Caretaker Position: Relocation Required’.

Well, you don’t really have the experience for caretaking but the second part sounds intriguing. You hesitate. It’s too good to be true. You’re sure there will be a list of qualifications longer than your resume.

Tap.

You open up the message.

‘Hello,

We’ve reviewed your profile and determined you might be a match for this position.

New Applicants Welcome.

We are seeking an individual to undertake caretaking duties for a property. This role would include the following:

Lawn care

General cleaning and maintenance

Manual labour requiring lifting of up to 60lbs

24/7 tenancy within property (no rent for chosen candidate)

Subsidized relocation

Training on-site

If you are seeking a fresh start and to learn new skills which can take you into future roles in a custodial or caretaking capacity, this is the job for you. To apply, please submit brief profile and resume for consideration.

Applicants are subject to a background check.’

You bite down on the inside of your lip. It sounds interesting but you’re not sure you’re a good fit. It’s so general, too. Would you need to know how to deal with electrical issues? Your apartment sure has taught you a lot about dealing with broken utilities, but your formal training is lacking.

And it’s a big thing. You want to get out of here but it’s still daunting in comparison to your current predicament.

You tense as you hear footsteps in the hall. You brace yourself and lower the phone, staring at the door. The thumping on the other side makes you flinch. Your heart races.

“Baby, I know you’re awake. Please. I just wanna talk.” He keeps tapping. “If you just talked to me, we could figure this out.”

You shudder and look at your phone again. You stare at the big blue button; ‘Apply Now’.

“I forgive you. For lying about me. Everyone knows you were just upset. I’ll tell them all it was just a misunderstanding…” he begs as the door shakes in the frame, the chair knocking against the handle. All that stands between you and him are those hinges and that flimsy piece of furniture.

You press down on the button. It can’t get worse than this.

[simp2537]

𝓗𝓾𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓻

a/n: Y’all I say this with love, don’t make the Daddy thing weird. He’s literally her father whom she hasn’t gotten to spend a lot of time with over the last few years. In Hunter!readers mind she will always call him Daddy.

Word Count: 1093k

Trigger Warnings: child abuse, depression, war, war crimes, imprisonment, torture, abuse, predatory behavior, anxiety, nightmares, suicidal thoughts, death  gore, murder, teen pregnancy, drug abuse, alcohol addiction, just heavy themes all around

Chapter One

Rҽυɳιƚҽԃ

Y/n pulled away from her father as tears fell from her eyes. Charlie held onto his beloved daughter for he feared if he let go of his daughter she’d disappear. Charlie stared down at his daughter with a look of pure fondness. Ten years without keeping his daughter in his home for more then two weeks

Y/n looked so much different. Her once thin h/c h/t hair was now thick, healthy and strong. Her s/c skin that once had a childlike glow was gone, now her skin was a bit rougher but still a nice softness to it. Her e/c eyes once filled with the wonder of a child was gone, all that seemed to be left was a small glow of life. She was taller now, granted the last time Charlie had really seen his daughter she was ten.

Her body was stronger, much stronger than Charlie would ever think his fifteen year old daughter would have. Her body was toned, but still feminine. His daughter was beautiful and Charlie couldn’t help but smile knowing his daughter was such a looker. She was just different. So different the only way Charlie really knew this was his daughter was the very tiny scar on the side of her chin. 

Charlie traced it softly as Y/n stared up at her dad. Her eyes filled with tears but they didn’t fall anymore. Her father was older now, looked a little too tired for her liking. Still her dad looked good for his age. The police cruiser behind him was the same. Forks was the same. A storm started to brew above and Y/n let out a small laugh of joy. 

She moved away from her father a little and held her hand out as a few droplets hit her hand. At the academy the counsel had full control of the weather, unless magic training was in the works, or specifically training was underway. The rain always brought Y/n a certain about of calm. 

“God I missed the rain dad.” Y/n’s voice was barely above a whisper as she spoke. Charlie chuckled at his girl’s response as he place her bags in his car. Charlie couldn’t help but wonder why she had so many bags. After all surely she wouldn’t have lots of stuff in a boarding school. 

“You’ll never guess the surprise I have for you, for both of you.” Charlie said. Y/n who was still turned away from her dad felt confused. She heard a pair a clumsy footsteps and Y/n immediately recognized this footsteps. Y/n whipped around and her face lit up. 

Bella Swan, Y/n’s older sister who she hadn’t seen in ten years. Ten straight years due to there schedules never aligning together. Whenever Bella was at Charlie’s Y/n was at the academy. Whenever Y/n was spending her two weeks with Charlie Bella was with Renee. Renee, the name made Y/n shudder. 

Bella’s eyes widened and she dropped her bags. They fell to the floor with a light thud. The two sisters stared at each other for a moment, each frozen. Then Y/n rushed forward, her arms wrapped she tightly are Bella that Bella gasped. Y/n pulled Bella towards her as Bella wrapped her arms around her little sister. 

Bella hugged her sister, her little sister and her eyes were wider then anyone could ever see. Her little sister was taller then her by at least a few inches. She looked stronger, she looked matured, she looked powerful. Bella laughed her sister as tears fell from her face. Bella hurried her head in his sisters neck and took in a long breath.

She smelt her sisters rose shampoo, her sisters perfume was also rose maybe with a hint of vanilla. As Bella pulled away a little she stared at her sister. The sisters stared at each other each memorizing each others new face. Bella was pale, so pale if Y/n wasn’t her sister she’d wonder if Bella was sick. Bella’s chocolate brown eyes were filled with tears. 

The sisters pulled away from each other with breathless laughter. They pair reunited in another tight hug this time jumping up and down a little. Bella couldn’t be happier that she’d have someone in this dreadful town. Y/n couldn’t be happier so see her big sister. 

“Wh-what are you doing here!” Bella said her voice so different but so familiar.

“I graduated.” Y/n said with a big smile. Sure it wasn’t exactly a lie but not the full truth. The life of a hunter from the mortal realm was filled with lies. 

“What? You mean you graduated Northride Academy! That’s amazing!” Bella said with a happy tone but fear was laced in it. If Y/n had graduated then she wouldn’t go to school with her. Y/n felt the wave of fear mixed with happiness brown within Bella. Y/n quickly held her sisters hands with a confident smile. 

“I’m still going to school here in Forks though. The academy teaches more advanced classes of a bunch of topic but I still wanted to go to school.” Y/n said. Sure she sounded insane. A teen how finished school so early because she was so smart wanting to go back to school? Others would have a heart attack, but not Bella. 

Bella was thrilled her sister would be going to school with her. And since Y/n was a genius Bella knew Y/n would be in her grade.   The pair entered their dads cruiser with small smiles on their faces. Y/n sat in the back and stared out the windows as he dad and Bella had a conversation.

The tree faded into the town of Forks when Charlie’s voice entered Y/n’s ears. 

“Huh?” Y/n answered. Charlie shock his head gently at Y/n.

“I asked how we’re your friends, what’s there names? Aren and Damian?” Charlie said furrowing his brows.

“Aerion and Damon are great dad. They went back home too.” Y/n replied while leaning in between the two front seats. Charlie smiled at his youngest with a smile.

“They were all you’d ever talk about when you used to come home.”  Charlie amused. 

“Are they your boyfriends or something?” Bella mocked softly. Y/n gently hit her shoulder with a smirk.

“No, they just friends.” Y/n stated confidently. Bella laughed a bit and looked at Y/n.

“For now.” Bella replied with a small smile. Y/n scoffed and leaned back into her chair. Y/n stared out the window as her childhood home came into view. She gasped and pressed herself against the window. It was good to be home Y/n thought.

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[webslinger-holland]

Nearly Drowned | Hunter from The Bad Batch

Summary: Going down with the cruiser, Hunter saves you from nearly drowning.

Warning: spoilers from episode eleven, the title gives you a pretty straightforward warning, mentions of reader not having a pulse/heartbeat, our sergeant performs CPR to save a life, also...mutual pining and kissing

Pairing: Hunter x Fem!Reader

Type: Oneshot

Word Count: 1.3k words

It was a mistake to think you could make it into the cockpit before the cruiser crashed into the water. You had held on just a moment longer than anticipated, but once your grasp slipped, your body fell into the state of free fall.

The exact moment your body struck the water, all the air was knocked out of your lungs and replaced was frigid water. The waves quickly engulfed your entire body, roughly dragging you deeper with a force that couldn't be fought. You tried to resist the initial pull with arms failing desperately to bring yourself to the surface. But the fall also managed to steal a lot of your energy and you fought weakly against the water.

All that remained was a spike of fear; more water began filling your lungs until you couldn't breathe anymore. You felt yourself sinking deeper and deeper into the depths of the ocean, surrounded by the water's darkness.

At some point, your body stopped fighting against itself. You grew too weak to move your arms and legs. The soothing movement of the water lured your mind into the state of unconsciousness without your willingness. Your eyes grew heavy as you drifted deeper; your mind succumbing to the darkness just as your body was.

A mysterious arm had wrapped around her waistline and began tugging the body towards the surface of the water. The sergeant fought bravely against the water's clutches, straining to hold his breath for just a little longer. He needed to save her even if it was the last thing he did.

Just as Hunter broke through the surface of the water, the sergeant desperately began gasping for the oxygen to refill his lungs. He sputtered slightly as the waves lapped against him. He held her body tightly against his own, double checking to make sure her head was above the water. He treaded water with her in his arms.

It was an incredibly long swim back to the shoreline, especially when guiding an unconscious body alongside him. He had to have been at least half a mile out from the shore when the cruiser went down. He swam to the best of his ability.

Once Hunter's feet found the solid purchase of smooth sand, he quickly readjusted her body in his grasp. He held her up with both hands as the water line sank lower with each step. The waves helped encourage him to draw closer to the shore until he was basically crawling out of the water.

With great caution, Hunter lay the unconscious body onto the top of the sand. He hadn't even bothered to pull the both of them out of the water all of the way; the waves coming to gather around her shins, but never traveling past that point. He quickly turned her over until she lay on her backside.

After mindlessly ditching his helmet into the sand, Hunter quickly began undoing the vest that clung to her chest. He needed clear access to her chest if he was going to save her. Any regular person would have leaned down to press their ear against the unconscious person's chest to see if they were breathing or if their heart was beating. But Hunter didn't need to do that.

Hunter knew she wasn't breathing. It pained him even more when he couldn't hear her heartbeat.

Without thinking, Hunter went to open her mouth wide with two fingers. He pinched her nose shut and leaned down to press his mouth against hers. He breathed two puffs of air into her mouth, pulling away just a moment later.

With shaky hands, Hunter intertwined his hands together and centered them on her sternum. He began to administer chest compressions, counting them in his mind. He briefly glanced at her face with the hopes that she'd come back to him, but he only cursed under his breath at her motionless form.

After a number of compressions, Hunter had to give her more breaths of air. As his lips pressed against hers again, he tried to ignore how cold they felt. He breathed into her with a silent plea.

Drawing away, Hunter returned back o his spot beside her. His hands came to the center of her chest, continuing to do chest compressions with rough presses. He silently wondered if the skin beneath his hands would bruise.

"Come on. Come on," Hunter whispered more to himself than anything. He fought against the tears that threatened to fall from the corners of his eyes. "Come on, mesh'la. Don't leave me now," Hunter begged.

His hands moved skillfully with each compression; his lips molded against hers to introduce air back into her lungs. He squeezed his eyes shut to block out his own pain, pleading now more than ever for her to come back to him. His desperation grew with each passing second until...

A strong joint forced your body back into a conscious state of mind. You began coughing up water, which flowed out of your mouth freely. You weren't able to register the hands that grabbed you. and rolled you onto your side in order to help you expel the water from your throat. Those same hands began to brush the wet strands of hair from your face.

After coughing up the water in your lungs, you were slow to roll onto your back once again. Your throat burned badly and your chest was incredibly sore, which you imagined was from breathing in so much water. Once you were able to regain your composure, your eyes fluttered open and weakly took in some of your surroundings.

Carefully, you eased yourself into a sitting position with the help of those mysterious hands. You winced at the soreness you felt throughout your body. But all your worries disappeared as your eyes landed on the person who had saved you from the water's deadly clutches.

"H--Hunter?" Your words came out raspy and dry. You furrowed your eyebrows in slight confusion. "I--Is that you?"

He was certainly a sight to behold.

His hair was drenched from the waves with strands of hair clinging to his face. A few stay beads of water rolled down the length of his nose, dripping over the edge consistently. His chest heaved under his armor from the adrenaline that spiked through his veins.

All of the sudden, Hunter took your face into his hands and held you there tightly. He looked ever so deeply into your eyes, searching for any signs of pain or misery. But all he found was the exhaustion from nearly drowning.

"I--I'm fine," you tried to reassure him breathlessly. You gave a wave of the hand to dismiss his worry; your hands moving up to clasp his wrists with the intent of pulling them away from your face. But he didn't budge.

His lips didn't hesitate to capture yours in a needy manner. He stole your breath away, which was the second time that happened tonight. With bodies pressed together heatedly and lips moving a sync, the both of you breathed heavily against one another. His hands moving to circle around your waist and draw you into closer to him.

His mouth moved with such feverish desperation, claiming dominance over you. His tongue pressed between your parted lips, searching and exploring whatever he could reach. You moaned against him, which prompted him to pull away from you so that you were able to catch your breath.

Panting heavily to regain your stolen breath, you searched his eyes for some type of explanation to his sudden expression of love. His dark and heavy eyes eventually met yours; his shoulders heaving dramatically with his own breaths. He held your body close to his as if he was threatening the world to try to take you from him again. Because the world won't succeed.

"Don't...you...ever," Hunter pronounced each word carefully so that you'd hear him clearly. "Scare...me...like that...again."

The deepness from his voice and the threatening look in his eyes made you agree to his demand. You didn’t even want to think what would happen if you dare oppose him.

THAT WAS MY SHORT ONESHOT! HOPE YOU GUYS LIKED IT!

[badbatchsprincess]

Heated ~ pt. 1

Pt.1 ~ Pt.2 ~ Pt.3 ~ Pt.4 ~ Pt.5 ~ Pt.6 ~ Pt.7 ~ Pt.8 ~ Pt.9 ~ Pt.10 ~Pt.11 ~ Pt.12 ~ Pt.13 ~ Pt.14 ~ Pt.15 ~ Pt.16 ~ Pt.17 ~ Pt.18 ~ Pt.19 ~ Pt.20 ~ Pt.21 ~ Pt.22 ~ Pt.23 ~ Pt.24 ~ Pt.25

Masterlist

Summary: This is an ABO Bad batch!Poly x Omega Reader smut with a plot. This takes place as an AU before order 66. Y/N previously served under the 501st before being transferred to Special Forces 99. This is her adventure with these rowdy Alphas in a quickly changing universe.

THIS IS AN ABO AU ABOUT THE BAD BATCH (NO CANON OMEGA!) Due to the unfortunate situation of her name being Omega… Omega the child from the canon series is not going to be apart of this fanfic/porn with a plot. I feel obligated to put this warning in because it makes my skin crawl thinking anyone could make that mistake. 

No warnings for this, just world building... welcome lol.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

After approximately 90 rotations aboard the Marauder, give or take a few days, you were ready to disembark. 

Tech, of course, calculated the accurate amount of time, but you were running on inner planetary standard time. You were exhausted. Truly and totally exhausted. The battles along the outer rim were beginning to overtake every waking thought, and the war only seemed to be escalating. Even though you were just a medical technician, it seemed like you never had a moment to breathe.

The boys had been sent on one mission after another to the most backwater planets you’d never even heard of. In the beginning of working with Clone Force 99, you were thrilled. 

Tired of being on the front lines with Captain Rex and General Skywalker, you thought this would have been a cakewalk compared to tending to the 501st. (Or as you liked to call them, the most reckless GAR unit in history.) Boy, were you wrong…

Rex assigning you to Clone Force 99 had been one of the most challenging places you think a young medic like yourself could have gone. 

These men, in particular, were a unique kind of reckless, and they always seemed to end up in the craziest situations. 

That didn’t mean you didn’t come to grow fond of them, but as GAR procedure demands, they must return to Coruscant for their quarterly medical examinations, and you were relieved. 

While you didn’t particularly care for the bustle of the high-density planet, you could appreciate not being shot at, chased, or bombed at any given second.

The Marauder also didn’t offer the same level of comfort as the Venator Attack Cruisers you’d become accustomed to staying on for months at a time. But it’s alright, you’ve come to enjoy your time with special force 99. 

For a bunch of chaotic Alphas, they were pleasant company. 

Sergeant Hunter was the leader and a remarkable tracker. You couldn’t help but marvel at his heightened abilities; it was really interesting from a medical standpoint. Tech had the brain capacity of a supercomputer and his ex-arc trooper friend, Echo. You actually had known Echo from your early days serving under the 501st. 

It was nice having him around; he seemed to keep the peace and offered some much-needed familiarity. Then there was Wrecker, the sweetest man-child you’d ever met. He had a love for blowing things up, which you found hilarious, and finally, there was Crosshair. You never really knew where you stood with the man. Echo told you it’s because he’s not used to strangers hanging out with his brothers, but you weren’t quite sure. The Alpha was quiet and calculated. He didn’t miss a thing, not with his heightened reflexes. He never said much to you; he often operated in silence unless it was to piss off Hunter, which seemed to be more often than you realized. 

He, however, treated you indifferently. It was just odd for an Alpha to not acknowledge an Omega. Not to say you needed his attention, it was just different. You speculated it had to do with his genetic mutations; maybe he was too good at focusing on his objective. Omegas hardly phased him.

“You ready, Pip?” Wrecker gave your shoulders a gentle shake. 

You smiled at the nickname. “Yeah Wreck, ugh I just really want a real shower.” You sighed, getting a little impatient. 

The Marauder was waiting for landing clearance while you made quick work stowing away the last few stray supplies. You made notes of all the supplies that had been depleted, which was most of it. You shook your head; you’d be raiding the GAR supply facility before deployment for certain. 

“You and me both,” Hunter snorted and settled down in one of the chairs in the cockpit.

Poor guy, you realized, probably had the worst of it all. Living amongst five sweaty dirty men and one medic had his scent on overdrive. Not to mention the dulled pheromones. Being surrounded by so many alphas, the stench was probably awful for him. 

You, however, being an omega on the smaller side, couldn’t smell much, not with your implant which was due for replacement this quarter. Hunter never mentioned anything to you about smell. You just hoped it wasn’t too much for him with all of your implants thankfully. It never seemed like an issue for him. 

“We’re clear for landing,” Echo chirped from the copilot seat. Everyone came up to the front to strap into the jump seats. Crosshair brought your packed bag up with him and placed it gently under your feet before he took the seat next to you and strapped in. You thanked him, and he gave you a silent nod still chewing on his toothpick. 

Echo and Tech gently landed the Marauder in the GAR main hangar bay and finished up the last cross check before disembarking. Wrecker was kind and offered to carry your duffle filled with your civvies and toiletries. You thanked him and followed him out of the Marauder. Taking a deep breath of fresh air, you smiled at the feeling of real sun on your skin. 

Looking down the steps, you squealed, noticing all of the white and blue plastoid on the other side of the hangar bay. Running at full speed, you nearly tripped over your own feet, flinging yourself at Kix. 

He noticed you last minute and swooped you up into his arms, “Hey Tiny! I didn’t know you were on rotation already?” He picked you up and spun you around before putting you down. Your excitement to see your old unit was overwhelming; you couldn’t help but smile as more of your friends on the 501st ran over to give you a hug or a playful shove.

You missed the way Wrecker gawked at your reaction to the Regs. “Well, she certainly doesn’t do that with us,” Tech noted, watching you rub up against the alphas in a comforting manner, purring under their affection. 

“Fucking Regs,” Crosshair groused. 

Echo remembered how fond you are of the 501st. He remembered when you were a newbie just starting your medical field days bonding with General Tano as teens. He felt a little nostalgic watching you with his vod. He laughed remembering how Ahsoka would scent you before sending you out into the field. They loved you so much. 

Tech noted how comfortable you were with their touch and scenting. Something no one in their unit ever attempted with you. Of course, they were aware of your designation, but they tried their hardest to be respectful. Hunter had made it extremely clear no one was supposed to touch you unless necessary. It had been six months of your service on their unit, and no one has ever gotten this close with you except Wrecker, but it wasn’t anything like that. 

The alpha in Tech was a little upset by this. Why didn’t the omega feel comfortable with them? 

Hunter listened to the way you preened under their attention, and his chest pained a bit hearing your purrs. Was he… jealous? No. That’s his medic, that's all. He had read your file; you’d been with them for most of the war. Of course, that would make you closer. He could smell the happy pheromones you spread from where they were. You were happy with the 501st’s attention; it wasn’t something he knew you craved.

“I’m here for quarterlies,” you tapped your shoulder, “And I’m due for replacement.” You sighed. “Ahh,” Kix smirked, “Difficult enough dealing with us reg alphas huh? Gotta deal with defects now too huh? Got that implant working overtime.” 

You rolled your eyes and shoved him. 

A cough behind you caught your attention. You spun around to see your unit catching up, looking a little perturbed, especially Crosshair. He’s never warmed up to the Regs and didn’t particularly like you sharing your fond stories about them. You usually keep to yourself in his presence or else he’d get a little hostile. 

“Sarge,” Kix greeted with a head tilt. 

“Kix,” Hunter gave him a polite nod, “Captain.” He looked beyond you. 

You spun around, “Rex!” You ran at him, wrapping yourself around your old captain. “Hey kid,” he laughed, giving you a pat on the head looking down at you.

 “I’m older than you, Captain,” you rolled your eyes with a smile. 

“So you like to remind me,” he laughed, suddenly realizing how much he had missed you. 

You stepped back with a huge smile. Suddenly everything was starting to feel good again. 90 rotations didn’t seem so terrible anymore. You giggled as they all filed in demanding to know how you’ve been.

 “We’re heading to 79’s later,” Jesse smiled, “You gotta come Y/N. I wanna hear about your adventures to the outer rim.” 

“Especially me,” Fives trotted forwards shoving you playfully aside before embracing his brother Echo, “Vod!” He hugged Echo tight. Echo relaxed into his hug and gave him a curt smile. “How you doing?” Fives asked, wrapping his arm around Echo’s shoulder before walking off with him towards the barracks to no doubt catch up. 

“I got a replacement due,” you sighed, “I can’t drink but I’ll stop by for a bit to catch up!” 

They all seemed to light up at that, “See you there, kid!” Captain Rex gave you a nod and turned on his heel to get back to work and make sure the General’s Venator was getting proper maintenance. 

“C’mon, Pip,” Hunter was leading the others towards the medical campus for their quarterlies. 

You huffed, “Coming, Sarge.” 

“Pip?” You heard the others laugh a bit at your new nickname when you trailed off behind your new unit. Damn their long legs you were struggling to hold pace with them. 

Crosshair gave you an incredulous look watching you try to catch up. You gave it right back to him. 

“Miss your precious Regs?” He sneered. You didn’t miss the way Tech’s shoulders stiffened. Wrecker and Hunter pretended not to hear, but you knew they did. You suddenly missed having Echo as your defense. 

“What?” You looked at him. 

“You heard me,” he growled. 

“Of course I missed my old unit. I haven’t seen them in six standard months, Crosshair.” 

“That all?” He was cold. 

“What is that supposed to mean?” You stopped and crossed your arms forcing him to stop walking. 

Crosshair pointed his toothpick at you, “Throwing yourself at a bunch of alphas like a bitch in hea-”

 “Enough!” Hunter growled. 

Your cheeks burned red. How dare he. You looked to Wrecker and then Tech but the looks on their faces didn’t exactly show any support for you. Did they agree?…Maker. Wrecker lowered his gaze which surprised you the most. 

Crosshair never really said much to you besides if you asked him an immediate question about his health or an injury. He usually somewhat avoided you. But you never thought he disliked you, at least up until now. The disgust was obvious on his face. 

You just shook your head and continued stalking towards the medical campus, ignoring Hunter’s call. Your shore-leave was becoming more and more desirable by the second. You wanted space especially from Mr. dark and gloomy. 

Deciding you’ve had enough of them, you detoured for your department entrance leaving them to go into the main medical campus alone. You knew Tech had all of your reports stowed on his datapad records. They would survive without you at least for now. You thought you heard Wrecker whimper behind you, but the sound of ion engines priming drowned out the rest before you stepped inside the medic clinic. Fuck Crosshair. What a dickhead.

You shook your head knowing you had other things to focus on besides his stupid little attitude. 

Passing through multiple security clearances, you stepped into the sterile clinic’s main lobby. 

“Medic Y/L/N?” You heard a familiar soft voice. 

“Hi Layla.” You smiled sweetly at the nurse who you came to know during your training program. Being an omega, she opted to stay on base instead of venturing out into the battle fronts she was definitely more gentle mannered than yourself. You preferred some action and excitement. 

“In for your quarterly’s?”

"Yeah, and I need a new replacement implant," you muttered as you trailed behind Layla toward one of the deserted exam rooms. The clinical white walls felt suffocating, a stark contrast to the chaotic memories you shared here. You reminisced about your early days serving the GAR, where Layla and you tended to wounded soldiers and even brushed shoulders with the occasional Jedi. But that was before you were transferred to General Skywalker’s unit, thrust into the heart of battle and endless repairs for him and his Padawan. You missed the simplicity of those days, the camaraderie with Layla.

”How’s the 501st treating you?" Layla's voice broke through your reverie as she handed you a crumpled paper gown.

"I got transferred to Special Forces 99," you replied, shedding your uniform behind the flimsy curtain. "They’re a different breed, that's for sure."

"Clone Force 99?" Layla's eyebrows rose in curiosity.

“Yeah.” you confirmed, feeling a flicker of amusement at her reaction.

As Layla chewed on her pen, a mischievous glint danced in her eyes. "The Sergeant’s pretty hot."

Your cheeks flushed, and you nearly stumbled over your words before recovering. “Layla…” You gawked.

She giggled and sat down on her roller stool. "Don’t lie and say you’ve never thought about it."

Well, obviously you’ve thought about it. They’re all honestly pretty hot, but you’d never admit that out loud.

"Now where have you seen Hunter like that?" you giggled at her cheekiness.

"I watch the holonet streams every once in a while. Especially after the retrieval on Skako Minor, General Skywalker and Sergeant CT-9901 were all over the holonet for weeks," she mused. "An omega’s wet dream."

You screamed and threw your boot at her. You two looked at each other momentarily before bursting out into a fit of laughter. Man, you missed Layla. Honestly, you just missed having another girl to talk to. This was such a refresher from the overwhelming amount of Alpha.

You hopped up on the table, lying down, trying to get comfortable.

"What’s he like?" her tone shifted into mischief.

You hesitated, memories of Hunter flooding your mind. "He’s… different. Polite, I guess."

Layla raised an eyebrow, her expression demanding the truth. “Girl…” she slapped your shoulder, grabbing her scanner to document your entire system from head to toe.

"Well, I don’t know!" you put your hands up in defense. "He’s quite the gentleman. None of them so much as look, Layla, I swear."

She just looked at you with a raised brow while she continued her work, “Yeah right.”

"But…" you smirked, watching her work, "I do know the tattoos go to his feet…" you bit your lip.

Now it was her turn to choke. "You’re lying…" Her interest was piqued.

You shook your head. "Full skeleton all the way down his arm, ribs, thigh…"

You two sighed.

She finished her scan and input the data before sliding her roller chair right next to you. "Everywhere?"

You raised a brow. "Everywhere," you confirmed with a nod.

She put her hand over her chest in a dramatic manner before prepping the numbing agent for your implant.

You remembered the day you found out this information about your Sergeant. Up until this point, you’d only seen maybe an arm or some knuckles in your medical repairs, but this time Hunter had taken a pretty bad hit to his side and thigh. Multiple blaster wounds had torn him up, and Tech had helped him limp back to the ship before they both collapsed on the floor. You had flung yourself out of your bunk at the commotion only to realize what had happened.

Tech helped you tear off Hunter’s armor and helmet, trying to figure out where the wounds were. Luckily, they hadn’t gone through, and it was mostly just surface wounds, but you still had to cut through his blacks to get to it, leaving his entire left side exposed. He had growled at you, but Tech had set him straight. He was just in pain.

That’s when you realized his entire left side was tattooed like his face, all the way down to his feet. You mumbled a quick apology before starting your cleaning process and bacta application.

The wounds had healed up nicely, but he had to re-tattoo the fresh skin the next time they had shore-leave. You had also stowed away the information of how muscular he was. The man was truly a work of art.

A sharp jab snapped you out of your memories when Layla removed the old suppressor implant. You yelped when the new one went in, making you a bit dizzy with pain. You hissed when she retracted the mechanism.

"There we go," she beamed. "Good as new."

"Thanks, Layla," you said, sitting up, letting her bandage the small incision wound with a bacta patch. The soothing coldness was immediate. You sighed in relief as the pain dulled.

"I told Rex I’d be at 79’s later, if you want to come?" you offered, slipping from the table to give her a hug.

"As much as I’d love to play with the captain, I have so much work to catch up on for quarterly's. I better stay here," she sighed, pushing her chair back into place. "But you have fun, and enjoy your time off. Come back to visit if you get bored."

You giggled. "I will." And with that, she left you to change back into your uniform before leaving the medic’s clinic. The hangar bay was significantly more empty now as you made your way over to civilian transport. After exiting the security checkpoint, you made your way over to the clone transport. "Can you take me to residential?" you asked the officer in the pilot’s seat. He gave you a nod, and you settled back into the transport’s seats. With a sigh, you were finally starting to relax a bit. You knew the boys were probably already back at their barracks after their examinations, so you knew they wouldn’t be bothering you for at least a few rotations.

When you finally arrived to the GAR residential building you gave the driver a thanks before hoping out and skipping over to the front door. You couldn’t wait to get to your quarters and enjoy a long hot shower. Swiping your clearance card, you dashed into the elevator to your floor and into your room. It smelled like you needed to open a window but other then that is was just as you left it. Knowing you’d have to get some food delivered, you gave a dramatic sigh while kicking off your regulation boots. You went to unzip your uniform top when you heard the swish of clothing and a familiar scoff. 

You turned suddenly seeing Crosshair standing in your kitchen in his civvies looking tall and menacing. 

“Maker! Crosshair!” You put a hand on your chest, “You scared me!” 

“Sorry little one.” He didn’t sound sorry at all. 

You looked around suddenly remembering you’re in YOUR apartment. 

“What the hell are you doing here Crosshair?” You narrowed your gaze at him getting mad all over again. 

“Hunter is making me apologize for earlier.” He grumbled around his toothpick. 

You hummed, “How did you get in here?” 

He held up the Sergeant’s entry card. Of course… dammit Hunter.

“Here.” He slid your duffle across the floor to you. A peace offering. You were grateful for that at least. 

A deep pang in your shoulder made you grimace “Thanks.” You unzipped your uniform top leaving you in your bindings not caring if he looked. He didn’t seem phased anyways. The bacta patch stained red with your blood. He narrowed his eyes to the incision. You knelt down to your duffle and pulled out your field kit. You grabbed a dose of pain killer and brought the injector up to the wound site. You pressed the mechanism and the needle stabbed you quickly injecting the medicine. You rolled your shoulder and replaced the bacta patch seeing the wound turning to a simple line. Soon it would be gone in a few hours. 

“So?” You looked at the tall sniper. 

He lifted a brow. 

You crossed your arms, “Your apology?” 

He snorted and stood up straight before walking past you. 

“Sorry.” He mumbled before stepping back out into the hallway and disappearing. 

You sighed knowing that was all you’re going to get from the grumpy soldier. Whatever, you’d take it. 

~~~

The shower that followed was worth it. You had never felt so clean in your few years in this universe. The piping hot water cleansed you of three standard months of sweat, bomb residue, and blood. You scrubbed and scrubbed until your skin flared red before you stepped out of the shower to get ready. Throwing on your favorite civvies and some makeup, you quickly dried your hair before throwing on your regulation boots. Grabbing your com and a few credits. You practically skipped out of your apartment making a beeline for 79’s. You couldn’t wait to catch up with your old friends.

When you arrived, you heard an uproar of men yelling your name. You looked over to see Fives, Jesse, Kix, and the others wave you over. 

“Tiny!” You got tackled by Fives. He put you in a headlock and ruffled your hair despite your cries. You shoved him off of you knowing he must have scented you in the process. 

“Ugh! Fives you reek.” You scrunched your nose smelling the alpha on him it was stronger then usual.

“Sorry tiny.” He laughed rubbing the back of his neck, “We gotta get our implants replaced too.” 

You shook your head and plopped down in the booth next to Kix with a laugh. He shoved the snack plate in your face continuing his conversation with another soldier to his right. You were starving and started munching down on the mantell mix.

“Hope that wont be a problem kid.” Rex smiled at you. 

You just yanked your collar down to show them the patch, “All good captain.” 

That made them relax. The 501st is many things, but they were always chivalrous towards you. Being their favorite omega and all, they had always taken a very protective stance with you. None of them tried anything and they had always kept away the creeps. You were thankful for their protection. 

Your current hoard of alphas though, you didn’t really know where you stood with them. They kind of pretended like you weren’t there. You quickly realized they weren’t used to working with strangers, and an omega of all things. At first they treated you like a fragile little thing. Like they were worried they’d step on you. They couldn’t help but stare. You didn’t really blame them. Eventually it wore off and they seemed to become a bit more comfortable with your presence. Until it became normal. Except Crosshair, he never seemed to warm up to you and kept you at arms length. 

“So how’s your new unit?” Fives asked sounding a bit jealous. 

You giggled, “They’re.. nice.” 

They all looked at you. 

“What?” You shrunk under their looks. Even Rex stared. 

“Nice?” Jesse laughed. 

“That’s not exactly the word I’d use.” Rex raised a brow, “You’re okay, right kid?” 

You opened your mouth in shock, “Guys I’m okay. I swear.”

They visibly relaxed. 

“Look, it took some getting used to. I don’t think they’ve ever been around strangers before they’re very close. Clearly. Eventually they warmed up. Except the sniper. I think he might actually not like me.” 

Fives just scoffed, “It’s because your’e hot cyar’ika”

Jesse punched him in the stomach. Fives doubled over and everyone at the table grumbled at him. You just felt your cheeks burn up and you hid behind Kix’s shoulder. 

“Fives…” Rex sighed. 

“What?” He choked out, “I’m just saying. I don’t think those defects have been anywhere near a woman much less an omega. Aye!” He blocked Jesse’s punch again. 

“What omega?” You heard a gruff voice approach. 

It was Commander Wolffe and the pack still in uniform. Rex got up and clapped him on the shoulder getting him settled in. He placed his helmet on the table and peered over at you. 

“I don’t think we’ve met cyar’ika.” He grinned at you showing off his scar and grey iris. 

You felt your heart rate increase under his intense stare. You could tell this alpha was seasoned, first generation from the looks of him. You were certain that if you didn’t have your implant, you'd be keening for his attention. Instead, you submissively lowered your gaze and leaned into Kix a bit. He wrapped an arm around you and looked up at the Commander, saying, “This is Y/N; we call her Tiny.” He shook you playfully, adding, “She used to be our medic. Now she’s with the 99’s.”

Wolffe let out a low whistle. “The 99’s? Must be exciting. Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he said, extending a hand, which you took, giving it a good shake. His calloused fingers lingered a bit as he ran them over your soft knuckles.

Looking up at him from beneath your lashes, you said, “Nice to meet you, Commander,” giving him a polite smile.

He smiled back, clearly pleased with your attention. Oh, he liked you, you thought to yourself. He then gently released your hand and turned to his men. “Let’s get a round of drinks. We’re off for quarterly’s!”

His men let out a whooping shout, and the waitress took down their orders. The pack quickly became rowdy, opting for roughhousing with each other and the shinies. After a long while of dodging his gaze and eating the food Kix placed in front of you, you decided you needed a cold glass of water and squeezed out from under Kix’s arm. The stench of so many alphas was starting to become too much, even with the implant. You were praying they couldn’t smell the nervousness on you.

Walking up to the bar, the woman smiled at you. She recognized you, as you usually spent your time with the boys when you were off. She gave you a little wave and bounced over, asking what you wanted.

“Just water for me,” you smiled. She smiled back and went to fill up your glass.

“What’s a pretty little omega doing in a place like this?” a shiny walked up to you, placing himself uncomfortably close to your back. You turned, facing him square on. Despite all clones being created as alphas, this one was young and stupid. Your omega instincts told you he’d be a weak mate. You noticed the lack of markings and scratches on his armor. He’s barely seen anything, you realized.

“I’m here with my friends,” you replied curtly, taking the glass of ice water from the bartender with a nod. You went to move away, but he caught your arm in a tight grip. Not tight enough to hurt, but tight enough to assert his dominance and stop you from leaving. You just looked at his hand and then up to his face.

“I wasn’t done with you… omega,” he leered, leaning forward to run his nose closer to your scent glands. Your heart rate increased for all the wrong reasons. Fear started to creep up inside you the longer he had his hands on you. Now you wished Fives had scented you for real. 

“Why are you messing with my medic?” 

You stiffened. 

Hunter’s smokey voice cut through the music of the club making your entire spine tingle. Hunter had used his Alpha tone making you tremble in spot. The shiny suddenly looked up eyes going wide. He quickly released you and saluted Hunter.“Sorry Seargant. I didn’t know she was yours.” 

“Hmm” Hunter dismissed him and grabbed you by the same arm the shiny had just moments ago, except this time the touch didn’t feel dangerous. Instead it made your stomach flip. He’d never touched you unless it was for medical purposes. You couldn’t help the little preen inside you bubbling up. Alpha Protects. He lead you past the shiny and over to an empty booth in the back of the club. You could hear Layla’s voice ringing in your head. She’d be eating this up right now. You prayed your pheromones didn’t give you away.

He finally let you go when you reached the booth waiting for you to slide in. You immediately missed the warmth of his bare hand. You realized they were all in their civvies, well except tech, he still had his helmet near by. The rest of them slid into the booth following suit. 

“She’s smells like Regs.” Wrecker crinkled his nose. Between, Fives, Kix, and the shiny you knew you reeked.

“Sorry.” You mumbled taking a sip of your water still a little pissed with them.

“You okay pip?” Hunter asked looking you in the eyes. You suddenly shied away from his gaze looking down at his shirt collar nodding. His eyes were too intense. You usually didn’t have a problem, but you were still trebling from the effects of his voice lingering. 

“Did something happen?” Tech asked from around Hunter’s shoulder. 

“I’m alright. Just a dumb shiny.” You felt like you were being suffocated by their stares. 

They laughed a bit at that. 

“Okay, I can’t take it anymore.” Wrecker shoved you under his arm and rubbed his scent all over you. You coughed and sputtered trying to shove him away but it was no use. Crosshair rolled his eyes.

“Alright Wrecker enough.” Hunter sighed looking down at you drowning in alpha, “She’s covered.” 

“Ugh.” You tried to straightening out your hair and top a bit, “Easy next time big guy. I think every alpha for a mile can smell me now.” 

He just gleamed. You couldn’t help but be a bit grateful. It seems like everyone was due for an updated implant. The smells were getting to be out of control. No one would come near you now. Even the rough housing seemed to be a little aggressive than usual. They had asked you about the wolf pack but you just shrugged watching their rough housing turn into full on brawls.

The boys continued talking about something random that Tech had info dumped about and Wrecker of course was confused. You continued to sip on your ice water before you heard your name being called. You popped your head up from the booth to find Fives looking for you. You sighed and put your cup down. Part of you didn’t want to go back because of the attention the commander was giving you, but the other part of you wanted to spend some time with Rex and the boys. Damn these alphas. 

Opting to stay where you were, Fives and the boys decided to come over towards you. Knowing this was probably going to go badly, you shrunk into the booth. Hunter eyed you before he heard Crosshair snarl. A large group of Regs came trotting over to come socialize like a bunch of drunk pups. They all pulled up chairs and surrounded the booth with their rambunctiousness. 

“Where’d you go Tiny?” Jesse was sloshed. Leaning over Fives who was barely holding himself together. 

“Tiny, did you see the way the commander was looking at you?” Fives shoved Jesse off of him, “I think he’s trying to-” he jiggled his brows suggestively at you and you just shook your head and wanted to melt into the table. Please not this. Not with my commanding officer present. Not my very hot commanding officer present. You wanted to slap Layla why did she have to start putting these thoughts into your head. 

“Commander Wolffe?” Tech asked for clarification. 

Fives just nodded taking another big sip from his cup.

“Someone shoot me.” You covered your face you were too sober for this conversation. You could feel Crosshairs smirk from across the table.

“Awh pip.” Wrecker just grabbed you again and shook you around, “The Commander thinks you’re prettyyyy.” 

Fives and Jesse giggled. Hunter and the others just looked uncomfortable. Obviously they weren’t the most social, nor playful. This was just embarrassing. Your only comfort was Wrecker. He was always the nicest anyways. You just tucked yourself into his side forgetting his betrayal earlier. 

“The Commander wants to rut with Y/N?” Tech asked. 

“Maker.” You wanted to dissipate into thin air.

“Mhmm.” Jesse and Fives nodded with cheesy grins, “she gave him the eyes.” 

You scoffed, “I did not!” 

“Yeah you did!” Fives giggles. He then looked at Jesse and re-enacted the whole scene dramatically, “It’s nice to meet you commander.” He fluttered his eyelashes at Jesse and held his hand. You groaned and put your head down on the table. 

“I need a drink.” You whimpered not able to take the teasing.

“Is that wise?” Tech chimed in, “You just had your implant replaced. It’s advised to not drink for the first 24 hours or else it may be ineffective.” 

“Kriff.” You sighed. 

“And that’s my cue to come rescue Tiny.” Kix interjected and yanked you up from the booth taking you far away from this painfully awkward conversation. You thanked him profusely letting him guide you.

“You’re nervous when you’re sober.” He laughed walking over to the dance floor with you. 

“I’m nervous because of my Sergeant.” You whisper in his ear. He just gives you a questionable look. You laugh and shake your head, “A friend of mine said something today and I can’t get it out of my stupid omega head.” 

“Oh?” He raised a brow dancing to the beat. 

“Shut up.” You laughed praying Hunter couldn’t hear you over the yelling and music, “They also don’t like the “Regs,” you shook your head. 

“Well I know why.” He replied spinning you around. 

“Why?” You asked swaying to the beat. 

“Everyone was so mean to them growing up. Kids are horrible you know. But because they’re different they definitely dealt with a lot during training days.” Kix informed you. Suddenly everything made sense. Especially why Crosshair can’t seem to socialize with Regs to save his life. 

“Plus, the Captain decked the sniper on Skako Minor.” Kix said cheekily. 

You dropped your jaw, “Rex?” You couldn’t believe it. There’s no way level headed Rex lost it with Crosshair.

“Oh yeah.” He laughed, “They got into it while trying to find Echo.” 

“No way.” You couldn’t believe it. While dancing you peered over at the table to find the four 99’s watching you completely ignoring the drunk shenanigans from the 501st boys. The only one interacting was Echo. You could tell there was a part of him that missed his brothers. They continued to drink and talk amongst themselves while you and Kix danced on the floor. Some of the other 501st boys joined you before linking up with pretty omegas vying for their attention. Clearly their interests were else where.

You definitely didn’t miss the way the Commander seemed to be unable to take his eyes off of you from his chair. You chose to ignore him. 

An alpha like that could send you into heat with or without an implant. You however had a job to do, and being stuck in his bed for a week wouldn’t suffice. The mortification of even thinking about returning to the Marauder after that. You couldn’t even go there. Crosshair would literally never let you hear the end of it. He might shove you out of the airlock when you weren’t expecting it. 

Kix seemed to be reading your mind and elected to giggle. You slapped him on the arm and he feigned injury. Just then, you noticed the Commander stand and seemingly decide to come your way. Feeling there to flee, you quickly hugged Kix and made a dart for the door. Grabbing your comm you let the boys know you’d be returning to your apartment but to your dismay, Hunter replied…

“Don’t bother we just got special orders. We’re shipping out tonight.” He sounded tired. So much for shore-leave.

“Ugh.” You whined turning to the taxi waiting by the club entrance. You put your comm away in your pocket and fished around for a few credits ignoring the way the cool evening air chilled your skin.

“Something wrong Cyar’ika?” The gruff voice you were dreading came from behind you. Damn your omega tendencies. You turned keeping your eyes lowered. 

“Everything is alright Commander.” You replied sweetly, “I just got informed my break has been cut short. We ship out again tonight.” 

He sighed stepping forwards and placed his pointer finger under your chin to tilt your head up. You nearly whimpered looking into his scarred eye. Alpha’s strong. Alpha likes you. Alpha smells good. Really good. You wanted to whine when his eye zeroed in on yours. He wanted your eyes on him that was for certain. Maybe a breakout heat with the Commander wouldn’t be too bad…

“Well if you ever need anything you let me know, yeah?” The Commander smiled wolfishly at you and released you. You took a deep breath and took a step back and nodded your head. 

“Y/N?” You heard Tech’s call come to your rescue, “Do you need a ride?” 

You grabbed your comm and quickly responded with shaking hands, “Yeah that would be nice thank you Tech.” 

It wasn’t long until their speeder arrived and you turned back to the Commander who had no issue walking you over to your unit. You could tell by Hunter skeptical glance that he was trying to figure out the situation. The Commander passed you over to your men and have you a nod before putting his helmet back on and walking back into the club. 

“What was that about?” Hunter asked with a raised brow. 

“I really don’t want to talk about it.” You shook your head and practically dove into the speeder. 

“Did the Commander proposition you?” Tech asked pushing his glasses back up. 

You squeaked and hid in the backseat. 

“Stop bothering her.” Echo shook his head. Thank the maker for Echo. 

“It was a harmless question.” Tech justified, “As we were talking about his strange attentions earlier and Y/N’s even more unordinary response according to the Regs.” 

You looked out the window of the speeder at the endless city below, “I’m going to jump.” You half joked. 

“Tech please drop it.” Echo implored, “You’re making her uncomfortable… and me.” 

“It’s just biological responses.” Tech grumbled into his data pad, “Nothing to be embarrassed about.” 

You sighed. This was going to be another long mission, and then you were going to take it upon yourself to insure you got a vacation. Hopefully there was something Rex could do to get you some time off for real this time far away from all of these men. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

This part one, I'll be posting regularly to this story, I hope y'all enjoy!

[ak-vintage]

Quarry - Epilogue

Pairing: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) x f!reader

Summary: Din Djarin is on what he expects to be his last bounty hunt for Greef Karga. However, after capturing a wanted starship engineer who would rather go anywhere other than “home,” the Mandalorian is forced to reassess his priorities.

Your taste of freedom had been brief but glorious. Now you are a prisoner of the most infamous bounty hunter in the Outer Rim – it’s only a matter of time before he turns you in. There isn’t much you would not do to keep from being sent home, but as you find yourself growing closer to your captor and his strange little companion, you start to wonder whether escape is really what you want.

Set immediately following Chapter 13: The Jedi.

Chapter Tags & Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Reader is Mando's live-in starship engineer, second-person POV, no use of Y/N, minimal descriptors of reader character, angst, bittersweet-ness, so much love and fluff, SMUT - Din take this helmet off, thigh riding, oral sex (m receiving), P in V sex, reader on top, Din's dirty mouth, all the praise, cursing in Mando'a (I had to let these two go out with a bang, they would have rioted otherwise)

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Read on AO3

Your return to Nevarro was bittersweet in a way you hadn’t fully expected.

You hadn’t anticipated the swell of emotion you would feel at the sight of the coal-black sands and the rugged white architecture, a pang in your heart that reminded you of the relief of coming home. You hadn’t planned for the immediate ache of Grogu’s absence, always there but particularly poignant when you realized that you hadn’t thought you would be coming back here without him. You hadn’t thought to steel yourself against the rush of affection that washed over you as you said your goodbyes to Fennec and Boba, wishing for all the galaxy that they could stay even while you knew that they had their own priorities to look after back on Tatooine. The sensation had almost choked you when the former pulled you into an unexpected embrace, cradling the back of your head in her gloved palm in a way that reminded you painfully of your mother.

“Keep working on that right hook,” she murmured into your shoulder, arms tight as durasteel around you as you clung to her lean frame. “I expect you to give me a run for my money on the sparring mat the next time I see you.”

You hadn’t expected Greef Karga himself to greet you on the tarmac as you disembarked from the Firespray. The way his handsome, weathered face had gone from cheery to confused to mournful as he swept his gaze across Din, then Cara, then you in search of little green child and not finding one, the way he had immediately opened his mouth to ask only to be interrupted by a wave of Din’s hand.

“My quest is completed. He’s with his own kind.”

You imagined there might have been a time when those words would have been said with triumph or satisfaction, but instead they sounded flat and hollow as they crackled through the bounty hunter’s helmet.

Victory and loss. Comradery and loneliness. Homecoming and homesickness. You wondered how long this dichotomy would linger, how long it would be before you could experience one emotion without also being overwhelmed by its opposite. Would anything ever feel quite right again, now that Grogu was gone?

---

After dropping off her belongings at her apartment, Cara Dune took you both out to lunch at Ninda’s, the same cantina she had introduced you to before your departure for Tython. Din had protested, insisting that the two of you ought to be heading for the port office, but thankfully, the marshal had refused to take no for an answer. Now, bellies full of savory meat pies and mugs of ale, you could feel an air of anticipation settle over the table as Cara leaned back in her chair and asked the question that had lingered in the back of your mind since departing Gideon’s cruiser.

“So. What’s next?”

You glanced at Din, catching his gaze only briefly through his visor before he replied, “We’ll be moving on. There’s nothing left for me here now that my covert is gone, and we’re still out of a ship. I need to find work.”

“Plenty of work to be done here,” Cara retorted. “City’s growing every day. I could always use a deputy, and I’m sure we could find a spot for your girl somewhere. Not nearly enough people with your skills around here yet,” she continued, flashing you a smile. “You could be one of the first. Open your own shop. Karga would approve your business license in a heartbeat.”

You huffed a soft laugh. She was right, of course. You could do it if you wanted – start your own business. Perhaps you could repair broken hardware, design custom mods, restore vintage ships. You could probably even build them from scratch if you found a good parts supplier. It would be a good life, a stable life. Shipbuilding was a lucrative business, and you could be your own boss, something that had felt like a pipe dream during your years of servitude on Chardaan.

But one look at Din had you shaking your head and slipping your hand under the table to rest on his thigh, giving him a comforting squeeze. Your bounty hunter wasn’t ready for that kind of life just yet. You could feel it in the tightness of his muscles beneath your hand, could see it in the way he crossed his arms over his chest at the suggestion.

Someday, you thought that might be something he wanted, but for now, you could feel the itch to return to his nomadic life among the stars burning under his skin as if it were your own.

“That’s generous of you. But we can’t stay,” you said after a beat. “It’s not time for us to settle just yet.”

Cara accepted your response with moderate grace, ensuring that you each had her personal comm link code should you change your minds. She also informed you that Karga had offered to put you up in a temporary apartment for as long as you wished while you decided your next destination.

“It’s nothing special,” she quipped, passing Din a sleek, black keycard. “Just something he used to rent out to clients back in the day, when they wanted to do business in person. But it should have everything you need until you’re ready to move on.”

A swell of fondness rose up in your chest, making it difficult to swallow as you fought the urge to launch yourself across the table and wrap the other woman in a fierce hug.  Meanwhile, the Mandalorian appeared reluctant to accept. Slipping the keycard into his belt, he rasped, “You can tell Karga I’ll be paying him back.”

The marshal laughed, loud and brash. “He’d shoot you for even suggesting it.”

“It’s too much. I won’t be indebted to him like that.”

“Indebted?” Cara looked almost offended at the suggestion, dark eyes flashing sharply. “You know better than anybody what it means to take care of your own, right? Let Karga do the same.”

This response seemed to take Din aback; you watched his helmet cock to the side in confusion as he processed her words, as if it were the first time he had considered that others might be willing to show up for him whether there was something in it for them or not.

You wondered then if he knew how much he meant to people, if he knew how strongly others were drawn to him without any effort on his part. You wondered if he knew how his sense of honor, his generosity, his steadfastness all made him a natural leader. He was the type of person who inspired loyalty, whether he actively sought it or not. Such a thing was a rare gift.

Almost absently, your eyes dropped to his utility belt where the inactive hilt of the Darksaber hung limply against his armored thigh. Should he wish it, he could take up Bo-Katan’s mission – reunite his people. He would be a tremendous Mand’alor, and that sword would give him more legitimacy than if he had been born to it.

“Fine,” he replied, pulling you out of your musings. “Just this once. We won’t linger long anyway.”

Cara shrugged. “Like I said – it’s yours for as long as you want. Just promise you’ll stop in and say goodbye when the time comes, okay?”

---

The apartment was in the market district, a little one-bedroom unit on the fourth floor of a white-washed building edged in royal blue trim.

The first floor was taken up with a tidy little caf shop that you looked forward to patronizing, and both sides of the cozy cobblestone street were lined with market stalls shaded by colorful linen awnings, all varying shades of red, orange, and gold. In spite of the charming surroundings, the marshal’s assessment of the unit itself had been accurate – it wasn’t nearly as lavish as the inn you had stayed in the last time you were on Nevarro. However, after spending weeks in deep space, the full kitchen, running water refresher, and large bed felt downright luxurious even if it was a bit barebones.

“I wonder how many places like this Karga has across the city,” you mused, pacing the length of the living space. The place had been sparsely furnished in nondescript shades of gray – a charcoal sofa, a light gray leather armchair, a two-person dining table in an ashen wood with a shining steel surface. Not unwelcoming but decidedly devoid of personality.

Din cocked his helmet in thought, following close on your heels. “A few, I’m sure. He likes to be prepared.”

You hummed thoughtfully. You could see that; Karga struck you as the type of man who was accustomed to holding all the cards.

Setting aside thoughts of the magistrate for the moment, you turned to face your companion, taking in the Mandalorian in your first moment of true solitude in weeks. Even through the bulk of his armor and the impassivity of his helmet, you could sense his weariness. It draped across his broad shoulders like a cloak, his emotions nearly tangible to you after so many months in his company. How had you ever thought this man stoic?

Closing the narrow distance between you, you rested your palms against the cool, unyielding surface of his breastplate and gazed up into his visor. “How are you, ner kar’ta?” you asked earnestly.

Your question hung in the still, silent air for a moment before the bounty hunter slipped his hands casually around your waist and pulled you to him. “Hmm. I like it when you speak Mando’a,” he rasped, fingers kneading the curve of your hips through the coarse fabric of your boilersuit.

You grinned, leaning gently into his touch. “Yeah? I’ve been practicing my accent.”

“It’s really coming along,” Din replied with a nod. You could hear the smile in his voice, could picture the softness in his dark eyes as he gazed at you, and you felt a gentle flush rise in your cheeks.

“I’d love to learn more, if you’re willing. All the phrases I know at this point are just…expressions of affection.” You hit him with a pointed look, eyebrow arched, and he huffed a laugh.

“I’d be happy to teach you.”

“I look forward to our first lesson.” Drawing your lower lip between your teeth, you shuffled another inch closer and threaded your fingers into the folds of his cape. “Now. If you’re done dodging the question…”

Broad, heavy palms drifted lower then, pressing warmly, firmly into the muscles of your ass, and you struggled to keep your eyelids from drooping under the heat of his hands. “I don’t know what you mean.”

The arch of your eyebrow deepened, and you drew back slightly, as much as you could manage in the cage of his arms. “Din,” you said shortly.  

Silence stretched between you for a breath, the two of you simply staring at one another, tacitly waiting for the other to capitulate and change the subject. But you would not allow him to best you in this. Eventually, it was him that offered a soft, tentative confession.

“I’m…restless,” he admitted, breaking your gaze to stare down at his boots. “I don’t like the idea of just…sitting around. I’d rather keep moving.”

You nodded in understanding. “I get that. Trust me, I’m not very good at doing nothing, either. But let’s just…” You trailed off, searching for the right words. “Let’s just try. For a few days. Please.”

The Mandalorian glanced back up at you at that, and you could see your own face – the bags under your eyes, the chaotic strands of hair clinging to your forehead, the weary shine of your eyes – reflected back at you in his visor. Your clothes were rumpled, your scarf stained with sweat. You looked, if possible, even more exhausted than you felt.

“We’ve been running at lightspeed for weeks,” you continued. “I’m completely spent. And I would bet if you held still for more than a couple of seconds, you’d feel it, too.”

The shoulders beneath your hands stiffened at your words. “That’s the life I live,” he replied gruffly.

“That’s the life you’ve chosen to live,” you corrected immediately. “But right now, maybe for the first time, there’s no Guild Agent beating down your door, there’s no quarry to chase, there’s no covert to provide for.” Offering him a gentle smile, you slipped one hand up to cradle his beskar cheek. “You don’t have to be…the Mandalorian right now. Right now, you get to just be Din Djarin. And Din Djarin is a human man. Who needs food. And water. And sleep. Just like the rest of us.”

Din was quiet then, though you could swear you could hear the gears in his mind turning as he processed your words. You could sense the battle within him – who he had been before Grogu, before you at war with the man he had become in the time since. The old Din Djarin was a lone ranger, a rolling stone, a clan of one; rigid, impassive, uncompromising. His drive to keep moving, to keep working, to keep surviving had been as much a part of the core of him as his Creed.

Who was this new Din Djarin? You could feel the question even through the silence.

Taking pity on him, you gathered both of his hands in yours, pulling them from your body and instead pressing soft kisses to them, one for each ridge of knuckles hidden beneath thick leather. “Tell you what. Why don’t we get cleaned up, and then we can go downstairs and take a walk through the market? Replenish some of the supplies we lost, then go from there?”

After a moment’s hesitation, the bounty hunter nodded. “All right, cyare,” he agreed. Resignation colored his tone, and you felt your smile widen in triumph. “Go get the water started. I’ll join you in a minute.”

---

You hardly remembered stripping down to your skin as the shower heated up, could not recall leaving your dirty clothes crumpled in a pile in the corner of the ‘fresher as you climbed in and immediately dunked yourself under the stream of too-hot water. It was all done on autopilot, your body moving on inertia alone as your mind raced, echoing with Din’s words.

I’ll join you in a minute.

Join you.

In the ‘fresher? In the shower?

You had left the lights off just in case, though admittedly you weren’t certain it would do much to prevent you from seeing his face should he decide to climb in under the spray with you. There was a small window paned with thick, warped glass cut into the far wall, and late afternoon Nevarran sunlight filtered through it, leaving the room dim but hardly dark. Plenty to see by with hardly a squint.

As you scrambled into the stall, you draped your scarf around the shower door handle as a backup. Another just in case.

Lost in thought, you went through the motions of your routine. Unwinding your braid, soaking the long strands until they weighed heavily on your shoulders, fumbling for the anonymous bottle of generic shampoo that had come stocked with the unit. You kept your eyes on the wall of the stall in front of you, your back to the shower door, and you tried not to let your hands tremble.

It had been so long since Din had touched you, so long since he had bent you over the rickety bunk on Boba’s ship and sent you rocketing through the stars. So much had happened since then, and in the intervening time, there had been days where this side of you had felt so far away, so out of reach it felt almost alien. But no longer. Your skin prickled under the steaming spray, seemingly impervious to the heat of the water now that another heat had reawakened in your belly. It simmered there, a creature stretching and preening after a long slumber, a thing that only Din had ever managed to draw out of you.

You had never wanted anyone the way you wanted him, and that want burned so brightly you could feel the space between your thighs begin to throb at the mere suggestion that it might be satisfied.

Distantly, you heard the hiss of the ‘fresher door sliding open followed by the rhythmic thud of heavy boots. You swallowed thickly as the door slid shut again, as soft clinks joined the sound of rustling fabric. It was like…metal on tile.

Like beskar being peeled off of a flight suit and stacked neatly on the floor.

You pressed your palms to the cool wall of the shower stall, holding yourself steady as you felt your knees begin to tremble with nerves you could not control. You hadn’t even been this anxious the first time you had fucked him – on the contrary, that experience had left you soaring with confidence. What could possibly have you in such a state this time, you wondered?

A brief rush of cool air swept into the shower stall behind you, dissipating the thick cloak of steam that surrounded you and blooming goosebumps across your shoulder blades.

You said nothing, the only sound you made the deep, centering breath you drew as a pair of broad, tanned hands appeared over the swell of your hips. Before you could shiver away the sudden chill of the open stall, the door closed again, and a strong, masculine body pressed tight to your back. His heat bled into you instantly, and you could not stifle the moan that dripped from your mouth as you leaned back into his embrace.

“Shab. I’ve missed you, mesh’la,” Din murmured, voice low and coarse as he pressed his face into the bend of your neck. Against your damp skin, you felt a pair of pillowy lips caress you. You felt scratchy, uneven stubble – longer than the last time you had seen it – drag against your pulse point. You felt the tip of a prominent, aquiline nose tuck into the space behind your ear and breathe you in.

The Mandalorian had, once again, taken his helmet off. On instinct, your eyes fell closed.

“Din,” you gasped weakly, hand flying up to thread your fingers into his hair, holding him to you. Maker, he felt good against you, his skin hot and smooth, his kisses along your neck wet and sucking. The sensation had your knees softening beneath you, and you were grateful for your grip on the wall and his clutch on your hips keeping you on your feet.

“S’all right. You can open your eyes. Ni liser nu haaranovor teh gar tug'yc.” Hands drifting to your stomach, your ribcage, your breasts, Din pulled you deeper into his embrace. You could feel the thick, warm hardness of him pressed against the small of your back, the heavy weight of his balls soft against your ass. “I won’t hide from you anymore. I refuse.”

A whimper worked its way out of your throat at his words. “Y-You’re sure? I won’t l-look, I swear,” you panted, grinding the globes of your ass cheeks instinctually against his cock like a Loth-cat in heat.

The bounty hunter groaned, his fingers digging sharply into your flesh to keep you still, and the sound vibrated through your body like the roll of thunder. “I know you wouldn’t. My sweet girl. I’m sure.” Using his grip on you to spin you around, you quickly found yourself backed up against the shower wall. Still, your eyes remained squeezed tightly shut as he continued, “It can be…permissible show one’s face. Within the bonds of the riduurok.”

Riduurok. You knew that word. It meant –

Your eyes snapped open, and instantly, your field of vision was filled with nothing but him. Broad, tanned, freckled shoulders. Dark brown curls clinging to his forehead. Deep brown eyes, round and earnest and tender, brimming with love, burning with desire. Your beautiful bounty hunter, somehow even more breathtaking than you remembered.

“Marriage,” you translated breathlessly. “Riduurok is…marriage.”

Din nodded once. “Yes.”

A wave of emotion rose up in your throat, and you struggled to swallow. “We aren’t married.”

“No,” he conceded. “But my intentions have not changed. Have yours?”

You were shaking your head before he had even finished his question. “Of course not.” Your voice sounded tremulous, a bit frantic to your own ears. “I just… I couldn’t stand it if you regretted this. I don’t want you to look back at this tomorrow and not be able to put your helmet back on fast enough.”

A flash of guilt sparked in his dark eyes then, and his proud shoulders fell slightly as he dropped his gaze to the floor. You knew he was remembering that morning on Gideon’s cruiser, the disappointment on your face as he explained that taking his helmet off the day before had been an exception.

“I can’t bear to be the thing that drives you to break your Creed, over and over again.” Bringing your hands up to his face, you cradled his cheeks in your palms, savoring the feel of his beard against your skin, forcing him to meet your gaze. “So I need you to be certain. Is this what you want, ner kar’ta? To be like this…with me?”

Din cupped your face in return, the two of holding each other in mirrored poses under the steaming water. “With you and only you,” he promised. “Forever, cyare.”

And then his lips descended on yours, and you swallowed a moan as he gathered you into his arms and bore you back against the shower wall.

---

You got yourselves clean in fits and spurts, between long stretches of deep, wet kisses, fervent gropes, and tantalizing caresses. Din toyed with your breasts while you rinsed your hair, kneading them firmly, trapping your nipples between his fingers, teasing and plucking and tugging until they ached and you couldn’t stifle the needy whines in your throat. When it was his turn to wash himself, you pressed yourself along his back, reaching around his body to stroke his cock with one hand and cradle his balls with the other. You dodged rivulets of soap that streamed down his back as you pressed kisses to his spine, and he shivered beneath your touch. Hot and heavy in your hands, the tip of him leaked and dripped over your skin only for the slickness to immediately wash away under the rush of the showerhead.  

The moment the last of the soap bubbles had disappeared down the drain, the Mandalorian turned off the shower and threw open the stall door.

“Bed,” he growled. The sound reached deep inside you, tugging on your nerve endings and sending a rush of fresh wetness to the apex of your thighs. “Now.”

You paid no heed to the water you trailed behind you as you burst through the ‘fresher door and staggered into the single bedroom. Din was hot on your heels, crowding up behind you as you went so that by the time you reached the foot of the large bed, he needed less than a second to reach around you, snag ahold of the downy-white blankets that dressed it, and fling them onto the floor.

With a breathless laugh, you spun around, the backs of your calves hitting the mattress as you collapsed onto the bed. You reached for him the second your back hit the sheets, fingers scrabbling urgently over his smooth, wet skin, but there was no need; he went to you willingly, clambering atop you with little encouragement. The weight of him was grounding, the give of his belly and the corded strength of his limbs keeping you anchored to the moment.

“Cyar’ika.” The tender, lilting word vibrated against your skin, tripped down your nerves as his teeth dragged along your collarbone. Goosebumps broke out along your skin, and you arched into his touch, hands in his dripping curls tugging him down, down, down to the swell of your breasts. His stubble teased your skin there, making you squirm, pulling a little giggle from your throat, but the giggle quickly morphed into a moan as his lips locked around one of your nipples.  

“Din!” you panted. Your fingers tightened in his hair, pulling a groan from him, which he smothered against the pillow of your flesh. You could feel your clit swell and throb in time with the coaxing swipes of his tongue, your nipple now impossibly hard and pebbled in a way that had you squirming beneath him, begging for pressure, for friction, anything to soothe the ache that pulsed between your thighs. “Please. Need you.”

As always, it seemed that the Mandalorian knew your body better than you did. In an instant, he had slotted his knee between your legs, adjusting his weight so that he could press himself right up against the place where you needed him most.

“M’right here, sweet girl. Not going anywhere.”

Your hips moved without your direction, grinding into the delicious pressure the moment it arrived. Maker, the heft and the hardness of his thigh felt incredible against your swollen cunt, and though you had to work for it, it was giving you everything you needed as Din’s soft, sucking kisses traveled across your chest, to the hollow of your throat, to the vulnerable patch of skin beneath your ear where your pulse raced.

“Shab,” he groaned, pressing his forehead to yours, panting into your open mouth. “Can feel how bad you want it. You’re soaking me, mesh’la.”

You bit back a whimper, eyelids fluttering as you nodded. “You feel so good,” you assured him. “Always want you, always.”

Sealing his lips over yours, you felt your core tremble at the heat of his tongue, the plushness of his mouth, the force of his kiss. Against your hip, his cock pulsed and leaked, leaving hot, slick trails of precum across your skin, and you swore saliva pooled under your tongue at the sensation. You wanted to taste him, to feel the warmth and the weight of him in your mouth. You wanted to hear him groan and curse as the thick, broad head of him breached your throat, as your nose pressed into his dark curls. You wanted him to need – just as badly as you needed – and you wanted to be the one to make it happen.

Pressing your palms into his chest, wrenching your mouth away from his, you breathed, “Roll over. On your back.”

To your surprise, he obeyed in an instant, and for the first time, you felt a surge of gratefulness for the size of the bed. Such a move would never have been possible in the narrow bunk on the Razor Crest or in the dusty bounty cell on Boba’s Firespray. Scrambling over him, you nudged his legs further apart and kneeled on the mattress between them.

Lower lip trapped coquettishly between your teeth, you braced your hands on his thick thighs and leaned over him. Long, damp strands of your hair cascaded over your shoulders, the ends dancing over his stomach in a way that had the muscles there jumping. You paid them no heed, instead nuzzling the tip of your nose and the round of your cheek against the underside of his hard, flushed cock.

“Hold my hair back, ner kar’ta?” you asked softly as you dragged your tongue across his glistening head.

Din threw his head back with a grunt, broad hands sinking instantly into your hair. He fisted the locks back from your face, holding them close to the root, tugging at your scalp, and you whined at the bolt of white-hot lightning that licked down your spine at the gesture. You didn’t have it in you to tease him any more after that; pulling a deep breath in through your nose, you drew him into your mouth and began to suck.

“Haar’chak!”

The curse echoed through the empty apartment as you smothered your answering grin against his dense, dark curls. You loved him like this – impossibly hard, flushed and hot, heavy and pulsing and tasting of fresh, clean skin and slick, salty man. You loved the way his hips hitched upward, seeking more of your warmth, more of your wet, and you loved the way he stopped himself from pushing you too far, even if he clearly wanted to. You loved the grip of his hands on the back of your head, the way they grounded you to the moment. You even loved the ache in your jaw as you worked yourself over him, knowing you’d suffer much worse to hear him make those low, breathless little groans and know that you were the cause.

It was a privilege getting to watch a man like him fall apart at the seams. To be the one responsible? Just the thought had your racing heartbeat traveling from your chest to your cunt.

It didn’t take long for the fall to begin – didn’t take more than a handful of minutes to have the Mandalorian trembling beneath you, the muscles in his thighs clenching under your hands, his fingers tightening painfully around your hair as he attempted to anchor himself in the maelstrom. A premature thrill of victory coursed through you at the feeling, and you swallowed sloppily around the thickness of him once more before letting him spring from your mouth.

“Taste so good, Din,” you whimpered, dragging your tongue against his leaking tip to drink down another glistening pearl of precum.

A deep, rumbling sound gritted its way out from between his clenched teeth, and you glanced up to watch the tendons in his neck strain as he tried in vain to collect himself. “Can’t say stuff like that,” he panted. “This’ll be over before it even starts.”

You felt a wicked smirk curl your lips and lapped at him again, a teasing little kitten lick that had his hips flexing desperately in search of more. “I’m sure you’d make it up to me.”

With a shake of his head and a weak smile, the bounty hunter released his hold on your hair, letting it tumble back down around your shoulders. “Not happening, cyar’ika. Now get up here before I sit you on my cock myself.”

Stars. A rush of heat flooded your body at his words, an answering wetness dampening your inner thighs, and you scrambled gracelessly from your crouch between his knees. As it had been from the moment you met, you were at his mercy, though now you reveled in it, for you knew he was just as weak to you as you were to him.

His hands came up to cup your hips as you knelt over him, fingers digging deep enough to bruise as you dragged your dripping slit against the thick ridge of his cock – soaking him, making him moan, catching the plush tip of his head against your swollen, throbbing clit. But just as you had worked him up to desperation, you had done the same to yourself, and you found you could not bear to tease yourself for long. Reaching down between your legs, you wrapped your fingers around the base of him, gave him a couple firm strokes, and notched the tip of him against your entrance.

His name was a pitiful whine on the back of a sob as you sank down onto him, felt him stretch you, fill  you, somehow feeling deeper and thicker than ever before. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you realized this was the first time you had taken him without his fingers to prepare you first, and you could feel the difference – it felt as if he was splitting you open, carving you in two, hollowing out a place for himself deep inside your body, and your muscles trembled and quivered at the harsh demand. It stung, but Maker, did you hunger for it.

“Thaaaaat’s it,” Din growled, watching you with heavy-lidded, blown-pupil eyes. “Look at you. You’re so beautiful like this.”

“Fuck, it’s – it’s – Din. So much.” The pathway between your brain and your mouth seemed to have deteriorated, every word coming out quavering and half-slurred, but your lack of coherence only seemed to spur him on.

“S’okay, cyare. You can do it.” He nodded slowly, encouragingly, using his grip on you to coax a roll of your hips. “Puhoi bal pakod. Slow. Nice and steady.”

The shift of him inside you, the way he dragged against your walls had your jaw dropping open and your eyes falling shut. You needed more immediately. Before you could fully wrap you mind around what was happening, you found yourself rocking against him again, again, again – back and forth, up and down, rocking him deeper, faster into you, dragging your hard little clit against his pubic bone, digging your nails into his chest for support, moaning and gasping as you went.

Through your blurred vision and frayed awareness, you could sense the Mandalorian practically melting beneath you – head dropping back limply, sinking deeper into the now-damp mattress, hands ghosting lightly over your hips to your waist to your breasts to your ass to your thighs, all the while murmuring faint encouragements under his breath as you rode.

So good for me, keep going, mesh’la, take what you need from me, that’s it, just take it, it’s yours, don’t stop, don’t you fucking stop…

“Din!” You could feel it building at the base of your spine, could feel your muscles starting to coil in your abdomen. Gods, every time you came down on him, he pounded that soft, elusive spot inside you, making you shake, making you drip. Sweat glistening on your skin, you felt yourself become almost slippery under his hands, the exertion mixing with the dampness of the shower and leaving you shining in the late afternoon sun. Your hips and thighs burned, unused to the strain, but you couldn’t slow, couldn’t stop, couldn’t think of giving in now. You were so close – he was going to make you –

As though reading your mind, the bounty hunter rasped through gritted teeth, “You’re right there, aren’t you? Go on.” He nodded, eyes locked on yours, dark hair clinging to his forehead with his own sweat. “S’okay, I’ve got you, m’right here. Let it happen.”

It occurred to you then that he was watching you fall apart, that his gaze was making note of every facial expression, every bead of sweat, every clenched muscle that rippled across your body, as you were sure he had done so many times before. But just now, right here, was the first time you were getting to watch him. No helmet, no pitch-dark room, no blindfold – nothing stood in the way of you getting to watch the man you loved hold on to the ragged edges of his sanity while you took him for all he was worth. Even in the midst of your hunger and your need, your heart stuttered at the intimacy of it.

You could see each other – really and truly. Fuck, you loved him –

“Yes!” you gasped, seizing up around him. “Yes, yes, fuck, Din, I’m – ”

And then you were gone – flung over the edge of the precipice with a shout, bearing down on his cock as you trembled and throbbed and leaked more of your wetness all over his lap. It smeared under you, slicking the hair at the base of his shaft, gathering in the little creases at the joints of his legs.

Distantly, you could hear a long stream of curses in Mando’a spilling into the air. “Shabshabshabshab. That’s it, sweetheart, that’s it. Feel so good coming all over me like that, such a good girl.”

Every word sent a little spasm through you, delicate aftershocks tripping down your raw, ruined nerves and making you shiver. They left you feeling weak – muscles slack and bones wobbly in the aftermath of your pleasure. You wanted nothing more than to collapse onto the bed beside him in a spineless heap, but no. You refused to abandon him now, not when he was still so impossibly hard inside you, not when he was still smothering low-register grunts as he tried desperately not to flip you onto your back and take what he needed from you.

Instead, you gently slumped forward onto his chest, pressing your tits against his skin and threading your fingers into his hair. “Your turn, ner kar’ta,” you murmured breathlessly against the underside of his jaw. You sucked on the skin there briefly, tasting the salt of him on your tongue. “I’m all yours. Let me feel you cum.”

Your permission was all he needed. In the span of a heartbeat, Din shifted beneath you, bringing his feet up to press firmly into the surface of the mattress, dropping his hands to the globes of your ass, and using his newfound leverage to thrust up into you with a force you hadn’t prepared for. You let out a sharp, surprised yelp, and you could have sworn the bounty hunter laughed in response.

It didn’t take much after that – a few deep, quick, powerful thrusts from below, his big hands steadying you above him as you buried your face in his neck, and then his hips were stuttering, his cock was pulsing, and a bloom of warmth spilled deep inside you. Your name was on his lips as he came – your real name, one he rarely called you but that sounded so sweet on his lips you almost wished he would use it more often.

You felt the curve of his mouth on your brow as he came back down, the scruff of his beard and the bristles of his mustache catching in your hair as he pressed a weak kiss to your skin, and when you looked up at him with heavy-lidded eyes, you treasured the rare sight of his crooked, fucked-out smile. You weren’t sure you would ever get used to how beautiful your Mandalorian was, but you hoped that perhaps now, with his newfound resolution, you might actually have the opportunity to find out.

---

It was well after dark that first night before the two of you managed to make it down to the market for dinner. Only a small handful of vendors remained open, so you made do with a modest selection of fresh fruit and the last loaf of bread from a baker’s stall down the block. You ate your meager meal naked in bed, the sheets beneath you still cool and damp from your post-shower romp. Despite the lack of glamor, it was easily the most hedonistic moment of your life, and you felt certain you would remember it fondly even when you were old and gray.

The following week you spent in Karga’s loaned apartment was bittersweet. On the one hand, you and Din had never been closer, and your relationship flourished now that you finally had a moment to focus on one another without other competing priorities. You spent long hours lounging on the couch in the living room or curled up in bed together, talking and napping and touching as you pleased. You told him about your childhood on Chardaan, about your parents, about the bad deal that landed your grandfather in the debt of Orron Halcard’s father. You told him about the morning after your eighteenth birthday, the day Orron came to your home to call in the last of that debt. And you told him how you worked for seven years to pay it off, and when you went to him after the final day of your servitude, instead of signing the documents that would have released you from your indenture, Orron destroyed all record of your years of service and instead fitted you with a cortical tracker to keep you from running away.

In return, Din told you what little he remembered of his childhood on Aq Vetina. He told you of his years in the Fighting Corps on Concordia, of his time traveling with another Mandalorian – a man he referred to only as his “mentor,” for whom he served as an apprentice. He told you of finding the Nevarran covert, of the decades he had spent building up his reputation in the Outer Rim as a fierce, efficient bounty hunter, all the while nurturing the growth and prosperity of his hidden community with contributions from his earnings. And he confessed how lonely he had been, all those years making his way through the galaxy alone – that he had not even known he was lonely until Grogu came along.

And therein laid the “bitter” part. The absence of Grogu was like a physical thing – big and tender and painful and always present, no matter how much good food you discovered in town or how many different surfaces Din fucked you on around the apartment. You found yourself sinking hours into ruminating about him, wondering whether he and the Jedi had gotten to their destination safely, whether he was being properly cared for, whether he was happy. You wondered whether this Jedi had picked up on his love of frogs, whether he knew how much the boy liked to be held and carried and rocked to sleep. You wondered whether the Jedi laughed and played with him, whether he sang him songs or told him stories. When you found yourself in one of these moods, you had to reassure yourself that he would, he did, he was; otherwise you surely would have demanded that Din find where that strange man had taken your little boy and made him book transport there immediately.

As it was, you knew you could never ask such a thing of Din. He kept his feelings about the entire ordeal rather close to his chest, but he had shared enough for you to know that he was struggling, as well – perhaps even more than you. So you knew you could not tempt him. You didn’t know if he would have the strength to refuse you.

As one week on Nevarro became two, the both of you began to grow restless. Though neither of you broached the topic, you knew the time of your departure was imminent, as Din had slowly started to use portions of his reward money from Gideon to restock his arsenal of armaments, first aid supplies, and deep space-friendly foodstuffs. You chose to take your cue from him and spent a sunny afternoon replacing the small wardrobe you had lost in the Razor Crest’s destruction, as well as putting together a rudimentary toolkit, which you could take with you to job sites should the opportunity arise. By the end of the second week, it was clear that both of you were as prepared as you could be to venture out beyond the safe haven of Nevarran space once again.

It was late when you finally worked up the courage to ask the question, the two of you lounging in bed in nothing but your skin, the holoprojector running old episodes of Knights of the Old Republic softly in the background. Turning onto your side, you took in the sight of your Mandalorian in his most vulnerable state – bare and open-faced, eyes half-lidded and sleepy as he watched the holovid with lazy interest. Loathe to disrupt his peace, it took you a moment to swallow and say, “When we were on the Firespray…you mentioned wanting to try to find the remainder of your covert. To look for your armorer.”

Din glanced over at you, a single brow arching as he took in your anxious expression. “Yes. Is that still something you’re interested in?”

“Of course,” you were quick to assure him. “Your covert is your family, Din. If you want to look for them, I’ll help however I can.”

“And…what I said about wanting the seek the naur’alor’s blessing. For us.” He paused then, and you saw the moment he pieced it together – the reason you seemed so uncomfortable mentioning what he had said on the Firespray all those weeks ago. His brows drew up, concern coloring his dark gaze. “Is…that something you still want?”

You nodded. “I want to be your wife someday. Your riduur. And if getting her blessing means we could make that happen, when we’re ready, then yes, that’s something I want.”

The bounty hunter seemed to consider that for a moment, the deep wrinkles between his prominent brows growing even more pronounced as he thought. After a beat, he rolled over onto his side, his posture matching yours as he propped his head up on his fist. “The naur’alor is my Tribe’s spiritual leader,” he explained. “She is the keeper of our culture, the custodian of the Creed. Her word is law. Her blessing would give us…legitimacy. And it would grant you privileges as Mando’ad – protections that I can’t give you all on my own.”

Breaking his gaze, your eyes flicked to the wrinkled sheets between you. You could not bear to look at him as you gave voice to your next question – the fear that had swirled in the back of your mind since Din had first proposed this idea.

“And what if… What if she says no? What if she rejects me?”

A broad, tanned, calloused hand appeared under your chin, tucking his fingers under your jaw and urging you to look up at him once more. “To reject you would be to reject me,” he said earnestly. “Where you go, I go. We are bonded, cyare, in all but name.”

“But if she does. I can’t ask you to give up your culture – your people – for me, Din. I won’t do that to you.”

“You aren’t,” he insisted, caressing your jaw soothingly with the pad of his thumb. “She will understand. You and I are…unprecedented. But the naur’alor is wise. She is good. I can’t believe she would turn us away.”

The pure, unyielding faith in his voice made your heart clench in your chest. You wished you could trust the way he did, but if your time with Boba, Koska, and Bo-Katan had taught you anything at all, it was that there were clearly multiple interpretations of the tenants of the Creed. There was more than one approach to walking the Way, and it seemed that your bounty hunter had been raised among only the strictest of zealots.

The nagging feeling at the back of your mind that this armorer might be a more formidable challenge than Din expected simply would not leave you alone. You could only hope he was prepared for the possibility.

“Whatever she says, I want you to know that I’m with you,” you promised, laying your hand across the back of his, cupping him to you. “For as long as you want me, I’m all yours.”

He grinned then, a wry thing that curled the corners of his soft, plush lips. “I’ll always want you, gotabor’ika,” he murmured. “Darasuum. Forever.”

Emotion swelling in your chest, urging you forward, you kissed that grin with all the tenderness and love that threatened to spill from you at his devoted confession. In return, he cradled you like you were something precious, traced the seams of your lips with his tongue like you were something to be savored. You were flushed and thoroughly breathless by the time you managed to pull away.

“Okay then,” you breathed, tracing the tip of your nose along his to press your foreheads together. “Let’s go find your covert.”

---

Mando'a Translations:

ner kar'ta - my heart cyare - beloved shab - fuck mesh'la - beautiful Ni liser nu haaranovor teh gar tug'yc - roughly translated "I will not hide from you anymore" riduurok - a Mandalorian marriage agreement cyar'ika - darling, sweetheart haar'chak - damn it Puhoi bal pakod - literally translated "slow and easy" naur'alor - smith, craftsman, specifically a metalsmith that works with beskar. It's a title that's called out in the Kyr'tsad Mando'ad, a manifesto of the Death Watch and is later recognized in the book The Bounty Hunter's Code by Boba Fett. Given the Children of the Watch's connection to Death Watch, this felt like an appropriate formal title for the Armorer riduur - spouse, gender neutral term gotabor'ika - "little engineer" darasuum - forever

Notes:

For those of you who have been with me throughout this story, thank you. It means more to me than words can say. It's been a year and a half-long labor of love, and I'm so proud to have finished it. I plan to come back to these two in the future - maybe a string of connected oneshots - but until then, ret'urcye mhi.

[classicanalyzer]

LEGO Star Wars Rebuild The Galaxy Thoughts

"Nothing makes sense, and everything's mixed up, and that's okay. Things fall apart, but maybe they can come back together better than before." Sig Greebling

Rebuild The Galaxy is my favorite out of all the D+ LEGO SW specials. I really love the connections to LEGO and SW, including the previous LEGO SW shows, especially Freemaker Adventures. Michael Kramer did an amazing job with the soundtrack, Sig's and Yesi's themes were well-composed.

Part I

"For someone who spends all his time telling stories about heroes, you have no idea how to be one. Maybe that's why you like history so much. It's over and done, but your life isn't. There's so much ahead of you if you'd just try, but you're afraid." Dev Greebling

Sig Greebling is such a cool name. I really love how he's a literal in-universe SW fan, yet someone who actually wants to be normal despite his Force sensitivity. I find it funny he's a literal Nerf herder. I do emphasize of how he wanted to avoid all the expectations if people know he's Force-sensitive.

I love the reference to Wookiees originally being a part of RotJ before being replaced with Ewoks.

Fennesa is a cool-looking world. Yesi Scala is another cool name (I get reminded of Scala Ad Caleum from KH haha). It's too bad Sig's indecisiveness and inability to step out of his comfort zone translates to his social life, even his crush. The background painting showing the sunset is so beautiful.

I really like how the Ackbar Troopers are the Clones in this universe. They must have chosen Ackbar as the main host due to his skills since he was a skilled warrior and leader, but definitely also for the memes out of universe. I also love how Phase I was used because the Kaminionans designed the Phase I suit based on aquatic species like themselves and would fit the Mon Calamari Clones.

The fighting animation and choreography for Yesi's fight against the Ackbar Troopers are so well animated. I laughed seeing that one Ackbar Trooper shooting with two blasters. I can see why Sig likes Yesi. Also ooff, Yesi lost her father in this timeline to the Empire. You can feel the bleak state of this galaxy under this Empire. At least, Yesi's desire to fly among the stars and not live in a backwater world is still there. I like how Sig also mentioned how Rancors are actually misunderstood intelligent creatures.

Double ooff, Sig's brother is now Darth Devastator "Dev". At least we finally get our first on-screen appearance of Jedi Bob!

Part II

"Being a hero is easier when you don't know the cost...Sig, the Force doesn't work that way. The dark side is loud and obvious like a big, mean Gamorrean kicking you in the head over and over. But the light side, the light side of the Force is just a whisper in the back of your mind." Bobolian Afol "Jedi Bob"

Darth Rey as Dev's apprentice feels so wrong about the intentional nature of aspects of this new universe. Jedi Bob!...or rather Bobolian Afol lmao (I also love how the markings seem a bit faded which signals his age). I love this cynical Jedi who sucks at fighting but is amazing at the Force...which is what a true Jedi should specialize in.

FREEMAKER LORE! THE FORCE BUILDERS ARE BACK! I love seeing them once again and hearing Bob recap them feels cathartic.

Ewok Bounty Hunters is one thing but bounty hunter C-3PO channeling his Triple 0 and HK-47 vibes in a Naboo Royal Cruiser with gold plating feels so right yet so wrong in the best ways possible. Yesi really has a lot of baggage with her wanting to prove herself and redeem herself for accidentally getting a rebel base captured.

Mos Eisley Marina made me die on the inside lmao. Tatooine isn't boring anymore lmao. I do love how this is a nod to how the BoBF and Legends mention Tatooine being once covered with oceans before becoming a desert world.

Like father like son indeed, however, even Anakin wouldn't go that far to cheat. I do love how Luke and Anakin use the same Podracer. Poor Max Rebo.

I love how Maul in this galaxy is much more relaxed and happy. At least, in this galaxy, Maul gets to live his life without the tragedies in his main galaxy life.

I love the implication that Nubs is well-known in the main galaxy that Sig knows about him. I'm incredibly confident that Darth Hammerhead is Rusty. Even in another universe, nobody remembers his name lmao.

That brief Duel of the Fates theme playing when Darth Jar Jar appeared was so hype and chilling. His line goes unironically hard.

Part III

"I know you can't restore a galaxy once it's gone because I tried to restore my own, and I failed. In the galaxy I'm from, things were simpler. I was a Padawan on Alistan Nor, learning the secrets of Force Building. I'd heard rumors about the Cornerstone. The more I read, the more obsessed I became. Was it possible to remake an entire galaxy? I needed to know the truth. My Masters forbid me from searching for the Cornerstone, but I wasn't exactly good at following orders. There were so many rules. I just wanted to do things my own way. I thought I could control the Cornerstone. I never thought -- When I left that temple, everything was different. My galaxy was gone, Sig. And yours had just been born." Bobolian Afol "Jedi Bob"

We truly reached the pinnacle of miniaturized Death Star tech with the Dark Falcon lmao.

Darth Jar Jar definitely isn't dead and I love what little time we had with him.

I love the lights looking like the Binary Sun and the music playing as Luke looks towards them.

I love how Palpatine in this universe is a cynic who gave up on fighting. I like that fascinating take on this alternate Palpatine. The new Jedi Council (I like the faded and scratched markings similar to Jedi Bob signals their age and tiredness of a seemingly hopeless war) is insane with Jedi Vader (I love that this is a SW Infinities comic reference, it felt cathartic to see it realized in visual media), Dooku, Cad Bane, Jannah, Lobot, IG-88(?), and even Jabba. I really love that Jannah has more to do here including her actress returning to voice her.

Greedo being the Han of this universe was so funny. He even has the Rodian ears for his Slave I Firespray ship lmao.

I love how Yesi recreates the energy in TFA when she does smth incredibly insane with Greedo's ship. Sig saying I do feels like his and Yesi's "I know" moment. And a Star Trous mention. I also feel like Yesi's point of how you fix the mistake got to Jedi Bob and got to him into revealing the truth. I love how Grevious is one of the rebels in this universe.

Alistan Nor!!! THAT'S THE FORCE BUILDER WORLD AND IT WAS MENTIONED IN FREEMAKER ADVENTURES.

Damn, this Han really became just like his mentor in the old universe. A true scoundrel.

God that twist of the old universe never coming back is gut-wrenching...especially since Jedi Bob is the only survivor of his old universe. The story of Jedi Bob is beyond tragic. One simple curiosity into the cornerstone left him the only survivor. Spending all that time alone in the Temple to make sure it doesn't happen again...only for it to happen again. I also really love how the simple galaxy is represented by 4:3 aspect ratio and all LEGO figures are the classic yellow designs.

WHEN SERVO WAS DESTROYED, I FELT MY HEART BREAKING APART. God that was heartbreaking to see, just like many heroes before him in his stories, to save his friends Sig gave himself up.

Part IV

"The tales of my galaxy. The tales of people like Dev. My Dev. I don't wanna forget them. They matter." Sig Greebling

God the intro with the sad music and Servo shutting down just hurts me in ways I cannot comprehend. The collapsing logo really showcases we're in the endgame.

I love how Yoda is voiced by his Young Jedi Adventure VA in this show. It is heartbreaking to see Ian Han hate Yoda given the very first major LEGO SW special (The Padawan Menace was one of my first non-SW movie experiences in my childhood).

Even if Dev is mentally messed up, I really like how he came around to having a brother and want to be brothers. I like how Sig realizes this is all a fantasy of a galaxy he can never restore. He fights to save this galaxy now.

I'm happy Tico got to a substantial role in this show alongside Rey. Reusing the Nobody line toward Darth Rey was pretty cruel.

The space battle was shot very well and I love the designs of the Calamari Destroyers.

Dev's breakdown was pretty disturbing to see and how he took the rage and lack of happiness in his life to put his idea of "order" and to take control of his life. Especially how he sees himself as beyond redemption and the point of no return.

The quote I used for the introduction quote is beautifully anti-nihilist.

The fight is so well choreographed and so peak, especially when the brief moment the windows were destroyed and the energy shield was activated. The fact the Nerf herder stick came back to be a major turning point in the fight against Dev is great. It was heartbreaking and I got a bit misty-eyed to see Dev ultimately decide to remain evil.

My heart repaired itself as Servo was reconstructed. The old galaxy is gone but the stories will live on. And leave it for Servo to interrupt Sig and Yesi's tender moment haha.

The ending shot with the new crew really felt like the passing of the torch between the Freemaker Adventures to Rebuild the Galaxy. I hope we get to see the Freemaker cast, especially the Freemaker family on Alistan Nor.

Also, The Landolorian and Evil Grogu has been so hyped as the sequel hook alongside Darth Rey and Tico being in charge of the Empire.

This is such a great show and I can't wait to see more LEGO SW stories set in this universe.

I love the score by Kramer who is also responsible for Ninjago’s score (alongside Jay Vincent):

[lonewolflupe]

Battle Scars (One-Shot)

This was inspired by @fea-warriorheart's recent post. Seeing how Echo reacted to the medbay in 'Aftermath' TBB S1E01 (after the food fight), it's only reasonable to think he would have a hard time coping with the procedure to remove his biochip. And of course I had to add some Fives, since there was only one mention of him in three seasons of TBB. I'm not bitter about that at all

Summary: when Captain Rex brings the Bad Batch aboard a Venator-class cruiser to extract their biochips inside the ship's decommissioned medical facility, Echo has a hard time dealing with memories from his past (or in short: TBB Echo's POV on their biochip removals (TBB S1E07)) Rating: Teen and up Tags: light angst, light triggering of PTSD, emotional hurt/comfort, SFW Words: 821 Characters: CT-1409 Echo, CT-7567 Captain Rex, CT-9901 Hunter, CT-9902 Tech, CT-9903 Wrecker, Omega; mentions of: ARC-5555 Fives Read this one-shot here on AO3

“Is it supposed to take this long?” Echo asked with concern, turning towards Rex. Wrecker was still inside the surgical pod, and Echo was becoming restless. Not only did he fear for his brother’s well-being after the procedure and his prior rampage, but he dreaded the moment it was his turn. “I’m not sure. I’ve never been on this end of it,” Rex replied slowly, averting his puzzled gaze from Echo.

The machine hummed as Tech’s fingers slid over the console’s various buttons, before he exclaimed: “The procedure’s complete.” With a whirring sound, the surgical bed with Wrecker on top of it slid out of the illuminated tube. Omega walked over to Wrecker expectantly, but he wouldn’t wake.

A nauseating feeling took a hold on Echo. The air was pushed from his lungs, and it felt like an invisible grasp took a hold of his throat, tightening it, making it hard to breathe. His chest started heaving, his eyes darting around the medbay. The humming of the pod, the whirring of the machinery, the blue illumination of the tube, the flickering of the lights around them. It brought him back to a place where his body and his mind hadn’t been his own.

He was shaken from his thoughts when Omega firmly insisted she would stay at Wrecker’s side until he would wake up. Rex turned around from his conversation with Hunter, which had been lost on Echo, and when he did, he noticed Echo’s shaken state. His face softened, and after a moment of silence in which he contemplated his next move, he gestured towards the ARC trooper. “Echo, with me,” Rex shot at him, in an urgent yet kind way. Echo nodded sharply before following the Captain outside the medbay.

As soon as he made it outside the room, every ounce of restraint crumbled down. “Rex, I-I-I.. I’m not sure if I can do this,” he confessed with a shaky voice, his widened eyes darting around as he tried catching his breath. Rex put a hand on Echo’s arm, trying to ease him, to snap him out of his panicking state. “Echo, it will be okay,” he started, his voice slow and comforting. “I know this is hard, but it is way more dangerous to keep it inside your head.”

Echo opened his mouth to reply, but it took a moment before the words came out. “I-I’m not sure, Rex. I survived long enough with dangerous matter in my head.” A faint smile appeared on Rex’s face, but there was pain behind the Captain’s eyes. “I’ve seen what it does to our brothers. I am not ready to bury any more of them,” he said softly, almost in a whisper, before continuing: “Please, do it for Fives. We.. I owe it to him.”

Fives. Echo swallowed when Rex mentioned him. Focusing on his lost brother helped him distract his thoughts from the imminent procedure. Rex averted his gaze from Echo, lost in his own thoughts. “He figured it out and I wasn’t there to save him. I can’t bear to lose you too - not again. Please, Echo.” He was almost begging him, and when Rex looked back at him, Echo couldn’t help but notice the Captain’s vulnerability. It was only for a moment before Rex regained himself.

“I-I should have been there. I-” Echo stammered, until Rex interrupted him. “Echo, please. You couldn’t, so don’t let the guilt consume you. He’d understand. If we knew you were alive earlier, he.. He’d been first in line to get you out.”

The words hit him like an elevated speeder train. He tried swallowing the lump in his throat. “Alright, I.. I’ll do it for Fives,” he said at last, granting the Captain another sharp nod. Rex smiled at him whilst briefly patting his shoulder piece. “Good man. Thank you, Echo,” he said softly. Echo took a deep breath and walked back into the medbay to check on Wrecker. Rex lingered for a moment longer, leaning against the medbay’s doorpost. He took his helmet between his hands and turned it around, deeply lost in thoughts.

---

The surgical bed felt cold against the back of his head as Echo tried laying still. The bright, blue illumination of the tube shone on him ominously, as the pod was ready to devour him. His chest started heaving again, his hand clenched in a fist as his widened eyes darted around. He wasn’t sure if he could make it through this procedure.

Just when Tech was ready to inject him with anaesthesia, Rex appeared on his other side. “Echo, we’re right here. If anything happens, we’ll pull you out. Understood?” Trying to focus on Rex’s calming voice, Echo nodded hesitantly, his lips parted to let out shaky breaths. But he knew Rex was right; he had to pull through. He had to get that chip out. For Fives. So his brother’s death wouldn’t be in vain.

Echo taglist: @welcometo79s @covert1ntrovert

[yoitsjay]

Fireball

Pairings: Wrecker x Short Fem! Reader

Summary: you and Wrecker have a special bond, and nobody, not even the grand Admiral can say anything about it without a little bit of violence.

Warnings: tarkin being a creep and an asshole, sexual innuendos, angst, Wrecker is a sweetheart, tensionnn

Word count: 2,756

Thanks for the help @moomoog017

It wasn’t often when The Bad Batch was stationed on a Jedi cruiser, let alone Anakin Skywalker's Jedi cruiser, but Admiral Tarkin and the general wanted an update on a current mission of theirs, plus Ahsoka had to see her best friend in the whole wild world.

You had a day before the meeting, but as soon as The Marauder had landed you basically sprinted off said ship and towards the padawan who was waiting for you with a huge grin. “Soka!” A squeal left your lips as you embraced the younger girl tightly, both you and her letting out soft giggles as you whispered some unintelligible things before you pulled away and bowed to Anakin. “Master Skywalker, a pleasure as always.” You spoke up, deepening your voice and trying to be professional towards him, but the snort that Ahsoka let out made you laugh again.

Anakin chuckled and pulled you into a hug, ever since you had met Anakin and Ahsoka, you had become your own chaotic little trio, especially in the fighter jets, now that was a fun time.

“Fireball! Wait up!” Wrecker called out, a laugh laced in his words as he jogged after you, Hunter, Tech, cross and echo however, just walked towards you, Ahsoka and Anakin. Anakin patted your head before walking towards Hunter, shaking his hand in greeting as they shared some words that you weren’t really paying attention to.

Ahsoka grinned at you again, grabbing your hand gently. “You want a tour? some things have moved around since you last came here, Rex can show your boys to their barracks.” Ahsoka offered, noticing your cheeks burn red when she had called the bad batch ‘your boys’

Ahsoka gave you a look, but you simply swatted her shoulder with your other hand. “I’d love a tour.” You breathed out, turning to look at Wrecker with a bright grin. “I’ll come find you later for our sparring date!” You called out, before running off with Ahsoka.

You still felt like a child at heart, despite the fact that you were ruthless on the battlefield, cutting through droids like they were nothing but an inconvenience to you.

After the tour, Ahsoka had brought you around to the barracks where many of the reg’s were, as well as The Bad Batch. You walked inside, taking a look around before you spotted ‘your boys’ who were enjoying themselves in their designated little bunks, making fun of the shiney regs. You thanked Ahsoka again for the tour and she nodded before walking away whilst you headed towards the five boys, shooting crosshair a look when he spotted you.

“Quit teasing the babies Cross, unless you want to be treated like a baby again.” You joked, but even at your teasing words crosshair had shut his trap and backed up, no longer making fun of the reg like he had been previously.

You looked up at Wrecker, shooting him a wide grin. “I’m ready for our training sesh Wreck! let's go.” You spoke up, watching as he jumped off his bunk, landing on the ground beside you. “Hell yeah! I'll kick your butt!” He exclaimed, and you simply nudged him before heading to the training area that Ahsoka had shown you.

Thankfully it wasn’t too far of a walk from the barracks either so when you're done kicking wreckers ass he doesn’t have that far to limp. Soon, you and Wrecker were in your sparring stances. Your lightsabers and robe were off to the side in a neat little pile so you were standing in your regular clothes which consisted of a tighter pair of light tan pants with knee high brown leather boots.

Your top was just a simple tank top tucked underneath your pants, and over that you had a belt which had clips for your lightsabers, as well as a thigh harness where you would normally put holsters for blasters, but instead held a small credits pouch on one leg, and a ration pouch on the other. And finally, you had two bracers on each arm, made from the plastoid armor clones usually wore, painted with the bad batches colors, the numbers 99 on your right arm at the top of the bracer.

You didn’t wear a lot of armor, forgoing protection for flexibility, You were small, so less of a target anyway especially with how fast you were.

You cleared your throat, tightening your hands into fists as you stared at Wrecker, nodding. “You ready big guy?” You asked, a sly smirk playing across your lips. “Of course” Wrecker replied, before sprinting after you. You let out a soft squeak, sliding under his legs, grabbing his ankle as you slid under to try and trip him, but it didn’t work.

Instead you jumped backwards onto your hands, kicking your legs up just as he spun around. You managed to clock him in the jaw before he grabbed your ankle and tossed you into the mat tied onto the wall. You grunted but quickly recovered again, rolling your shoulders back as you charged at him this time, using the force to give you a boost up into the air above him, where you landed on his shoulders.

You wrapped your legs around his neck, squeezing slightly as you tried to force him to fall backwards so you could pin him. You did manage to get him to fall, but you didn’t predict that you would land on your back so hard, which forced you to release your hold on his neck.

Wrecker grunted, getting onto his knees as he gave you a quick look to make sure you were okay, and when you gave him a thumbs up he just grinned and grabbed your ankles before pulling you towards him. “No!” You squealed, trying to wiggle out of his grasp, managing to free your leg which you sent flying towards his face.

You landed a swift kick to his chest, having missed his face but again it was enough for him to let you go, so again you got to your feet. Wrecker recuperates quickly too, grabbing ahold of your arms before you could run away.

Wrecker then slammed you into the matt underneath him, pinning your arms behind your back as he pressed his weight onto your lower back. You felt his codpiece drag against your leg for a moment, a small gasp escaping your list, a blush rising to your cheeks as his chest pressed into your back. You close your eyes for a moment, before hearing the buzzer of the match being won. You quickly wriggled from his grip, sitting on the mat a couple feet away as you panted heavily.

There was an unrecognizable emotion on Wrecker’s face for a moment, but it quickly dissipated as he offered his hand to you. However you playfully slapped it away and you stood up on your own. “Another round?” You asked, but before Wrecker could agree your and the squad’s names were called down for the meeting in the briefing room. Wrecker groaned, but you simply shrugged before sliding your vest and robes back on, clipping your lightsabers to your belt.

On your way out of the room Wrecker lifted you up, placing you on his shoulders with a grin, you laughed, resting your hands on your thighs while his hands gripped your legs to keep you steady. When you reached the briefing room Wrecker helped you down, and you entered with the large man following close behind, Hunter and the other boys were already inside, talking with Rex while Ahsoka and Anakin talked with-

“Admiral Tarkin.” You snarked, catching everyone’s attention. Your distaste for the Admiral was very well known, especially after he said some choice words when you were still a padawan learning under Kit Fisto, though at the time he was only a general.

The Admiral turned to look at you, a slight scowl making its way onto his lips. “Commander Y/n.” He greeted, yet you grinned. “Ah ah! its General now Doll” You snarked, using the name he called you all those years ago. Tarkin rolled his eyes but said nothing else, turning to look at Anakin.

“Are we ready to start the meeting then?” He asked, and Anakin nodded. The meeting was boring, and filled with logistics you couldn’t really bother to pay attention about. However you felt Ahsoka nudge your arm, and you jolted slightly before looking up. “Hm? sorry could you repeat that?” You asked sheepishly, glancing over at Hunter who looked… angry?

You turned to look at Anakin, who was also frowning, but towards Admiral Tarkin. You looked at him finally, eyebrows furrowing as he spoke up. “I said- if you would even bother to pay attention- That you and your malformed squad can cover the ground assault.” He spat.

Almost immediately rage filled your veins, Ahsoka and Anakin specifically could feel the air around them stiffened as you raised your hand. Anakin’s eyes widened, looking away for a moment, shielding Ahsoka’s eyes as a bright flash flew from your hand and landed right into Tarkin’s eyes.

Time seemed to crash back into them after that, and as you lunged for Tarkin Wrecker managed to catch you, holding you like he would hold Lula in his arms. Despite your kicking and screaming he gripped you tightly.

Ahsoka looked around, taking a step closer to you and away from Tarkin as he sneered. “How dare you!” He exclaimed, but you were basically frothing at the mouth in anger. “No! you don’t get to speak to my squad like they’re just lowlifes!” You shouted, managing to wiggle from Wreckers arms, slipping past him and his brothers, landing a swift punch to Tarkin on top of the temporary flash blinding he just recieved.

You stood over him, hands balled into fists as you still seethed, but began to calm down, Anakin walked over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder. You flinched slightly, but relaxed when you realized it was him. “Let's go take a walk, come on.” He mattered to you, nodding to Hunter, silently telling him to busy himself and his squad while you face your punishment for punching the Admiral.

Anakin and Ahsoka helped you calm down for a couple minutes as you just walked. But soon you paused, turning to face them as tears streamed down your face. Ahsoka gasped softly, and Anakin just frowned even more. “He has no right to speak to any of the clones like that, let alone my family.” You growled, wiping away your tears as a sigh escaped your lips.

Anakin spoke up quickly as he stepped towards you, having to lean down a bit in order to speak to you without completely towering over you. “Listen, we all heard what Tarkin said, so the punishment you’ll end up getting probably won’t be that bad, you'll probably just get benched at the temple for a couple days to meditate and calm your emotions.” He explained, probably from experience.

You sighed, but nodded. “Yeah okay… i can do that.” You muttered, and walked with Ahsoka and Anakin back to the front deck to receive your punishment from the jedi temple. Of course with Ahsoka and Anakin having your backs the blow definitely was a bit lighter, but kind of deserved.

“Three days at the temple, no action and you have to help reorganize the library and holocron vault with Lady Maru. That is all… oh, and Y/n… im proud of you.” your old master, Kit Fisto’s voice carried through the room as he issued your punishment, you definitely didn’t expect him to give it, but the sting did hurt less coming from him.

“Thank you, Master.” You bowed, and when the transmission ended you groaned, turning to your fellow Jedi. “I better go find my men and let them know we have to make a trip to Coruscant.” You muttered, offering them both a sad smile as you walked away.

You let yourself wander the halls a bit before reaching the marauder where Anakin had told you they ended up. They were all sitting outside talking, probably discussing you. When they saw you walk towards them, Wrecker was the first to approach, laughing as he picked you up and squeezed you tight.

Your cheeks flushed, but you ignored that feeling and just grinned. “I wouldn’t let him talk that way about you guys.” You stated, getting set down once you had reached the rest of them. Echo sighed, and rolled his eyes before walking back into the marauder, ever the mom he was. Crosshair was just smirking, he even gave you a little thumbs up before he too went into the Marauder.

Hunter had his head in his hand, but underneath the palm of his gloved hand you could see the smile that graced his lips, and that only made your grin get bigger. Tech then stepped forward, glancing up at you from his datapad.

“Your actions were unexpected, and we did not know you had the power to blind… that will be useful… But the Admiral deserved that punch.” Tech told you, sparing you another glance as he just stood to the side of Hunter, who was now looking at you.

You offered the man a shrug, hearing the sigh that followed. “Well? what happened after?” Hunter asked, and your smile slowly faded as you thought about how to tell them. Your hesitancy only made Hunter more worried however.

“Don’t worry, it's nothing too severe… but I need a ride to the Jedi temple. Im on library and holocron duty for three days, and i have to meditate and calm my ‘center’ which is such horse crap-” you cut yourself off with a sigh, running a hand through your hair as you offered Hunter a reassuring smile. “You guys just continue the mission without me, I'll be fine.” You explained.

“It’s not that we’re worried about you, Fireball… were worried about the library.” Hunter jokes, patting your shoulder as you walk inside the Marauder with him and Wrecker, “Har har, you're so funny… not!” You huffed, taking your seat in the cockpit, hugging your legs to your chest as you smiled at Wrecker, who sent you a wink.

“I’ll always defend you guys, even if it gets me kicked out.” You huffed, looking out the window. Hunter snickered, as did crosshair. “We know.” Wrecker spoke up, reaching over to place his hand on your knee. You tried to hide the bashful expression that spread across your face, but Crosshair caught it before you could hide it, and he groaned audibly.

“Can you and Wrecker just kiss already? were done seeing you eye fuck each other.” He snarled.

Your and Wreckers eyes both widened, and at the same time you shouted “What?!” like Crosshair’s words were entirely false. The rest of the men in the ship gave you and Wrecker a deadpanned look, and Crosshair just slips his leg forward as you go to stand up, of course tripping over his leg and falling right into-

guess who’s arms-

Wreckers arms.

A soft gasp escapes your lips but is quickly silenced when your head is pushed down, and your lips meet Wreckers… though you don't bother pull away, and instead deepen the kiss just as Wreckers arms tighten around your waist before his hands slide down to your thighs, squeezing slight which drew out a soft whine…

You pulled back, and you stared into each other's eyes for a moment, before hearing Hunter clear his throat. “If you're gonna eat each other's faces, go get a room.” he teased, but he wasn't wrong. But before you could stand up, Wrecker did, holding you tightly in his arms. “Wait!” You squeaked, and Wrecker paused.

“if we uh- do this… none of you can say jack shit to anyone!” You shouted, glaring at Crosshair. “And uh- never on any republic base.” You added, hearing Wreckers chuckle. “Don’t worry mesh'la, if I fuck you ill do it in a place where nobody can hear how you scre-”

“Okay enough you two! Let's drop her off on Coruscant and you can do all that… grossness When we get back.” Echo interrupted quickly, and Wrecker set you down. “Yeah okay- cool-” you choked out, sitting back down in your chair, burying your face in your hands as you tried to rid yourself of the embarrassment, especially when Wrecker and Crosshair were laughing.

Oh boy… What have you gotten into?

➺

Tag List:

Wrecker:

All:

[i-dont-know-how-this-site-works]

lmao people are already hounding on Hunter for not hugging/comforting Crosshair as if Crosshair didn't order his troops to shoot down a child, didn't try to fry his fam with a whole ass star cruiser engine and didn't trick the batch into coming back to Kamino when he knew it was going to get bombarded soon.

Yes, Crosshair was under the control of the chip for two of those things and he does regret doing what he did, but that doesn't mean Hunter has to trust him fully and accept him back like nothing happened. There is hurt on both sides and it needs to be addressed, and since Hunter and Crosshair have the emotional intelligence of a freaking lamp post, the process of getting that trust back will be ugly.

Neither of them are comfortable with being emotionally vulnerable and neither are fully comfortable with physical affection, so no, there will not be hugging and crying and kisses and "I love yous", that's not who these people are. Wrecker? Oh yeah, totally. Echo? Sure. Omega? Absolutely? Hunter and Crosshair? Forget it.

Don't hound on characters for acting within the bounds of what's normal behaviour for them.

[armpirate]

Until You're Mine || Choi San | Ch. 8

MASTERLIST Previous || Next

Pairings: Mafia!San x fem!reader

Genre: smut, angst, fluff, obsession, mafia love

Warnings: dom!San, sub!reader, explicit language, mention of drug and guns, violence, rough sex.

Summary: San, a notorious and feared mafia boss, has always lived in the shadows of power and violence. When an ambush leaves him wounded and on the run, he finds refuge in an empty event hall. Inside, Y/n, a rising star in the world of event planning, is nursing her own wounds -a career on the line after a confrontation with a powerful client. The last thing she expects is for her night to take a dark turn when San stumbles into her life, bloodied and dangerous.

Despite the fear and uncertainty, Y/n can't turn away. She helps him clean up, binding more than just his wounds in the process. What begins as an intense, chance encounter spirals into a dangerous obsession. San, used to being the hunter, becomes fixated on the one woman who dared to help him, even in his darkest moment. Meanwhile, Y/n, caught in the mystery of that powerful man, finds herself tracking his every move, unable to shake the dangerous allure of his world.

Neither knows that their fascination with each other is mutual. In a city teeming with danger, power, and deceit, their secret obsessions will pull them deeper into a deadly game -one where love, power, and obsession intertwine, and nothing is as it seems.

Chapter duration: 13 minutes

The soft blue and red glow of the police cruiser lights flickered against the walls of Y/n's apartment, painting the disarray in alternating hues of urgency. Two officers moved methodically through the space, inspecting the ransacked remains of what had once been her sanctuary.

One of them, a woman in her mid-thirties with a stern yet understanding demeanor, approached Y/n where she stood near the kitchen, arms wrapped tightly around herself.

—Is there anything missing? Whoever came, they didn't just break into your place for fun —the officer said, jotting notes into her pad—. Not just random vandalism. When they do stuff like this, it's because they want to get something. But the most evident things were untouched. You know, the TV, your laptop...

—I don't know what it could be. I checked my room and nothing seems to be missing —Y/n murmured, her voice small, almost drowned out by the sound of her own heartbeat.

— Do you keep anything valuable here? Documents, jewelry, maybe?

—Nothing more than what most people have —she replied, faltering as her eyes darted toward the mess strewn across the living room floor—. And, like I said, none of that is missing.

The officer frowned, casting a glance at the broken lock on the front door.

—Whoever did this knew what they were doing. I don't want to scare you, but there are bands who come looking for something else that isn't... something to resell —her tone was dark, a hint of a scary reality for some people—. Have you seen something weird lately? Someone following you, or maybe a fight...?

Her mind immediately went to the black car that had been parked two buildings away from her apartment, but that she was still able to see every day she set foot outside. But she didn't say anything, she didn't even think of mentioning it. Why? It was a good question she couldn't answer.

—No. Nothing.

—Still, watch out for any signs that could mean you're in danger —she insisted—. A mark in your car, if you have one, that could keep you from driving, a mark on your door... Anything can work to prevent something worse —she let her know—. My advice? Get a security system installed as soon as possible. Alarms, cameras... everything that could help yourself to feel safer. It's the only way to keep safe in situations like this, and it kinda scares those people away.

Y/n nodded absently, her mind spiraling as she replayed the events leading up to this moment. Who would do this? And why?

As the officers prepared to leave, the woman handed Y/n a small card.

—We've got a list of vetted security companies. Give them a call. Don't wait too long.

Y/n took the card with trembling fingers, her gaze falling on the neatly printed text. A list of names and numbers greeted her, but one stood out among the others, bolded in sleek lettering: Echelon Security Services.

The officer gave a reassuring nod before stepping toward the door.

—If anything else comes to mind, don't hesitate to contact us.

Y/n nodded again, clutching the card tightly, the weight of it feeling heavier than it should. She stood motionless as the officers exited, the silence that followed pressing down on her chest like an invisible force.

Her eyes returned to the card, its black-and-gold logo glinting under the dim light. Something about the name sent a shiver down her spine, though she couldn't quite say why.

The next morning, sun streamed through Y/n's broken blinds, casting long, jagged shadows across her apartment. She sat at the kitchen counter, staring at the business card the officer had left her the night before. The words Echelon Security Services felt heavier than the paper they were printed on. Her hands trembled slightly as she picked up her phone and dialed the number.

There were many other options, but the fact that that company was somehow related to Obsidian Ventures, and San in consequence, gave her a strange feel of overprotection that she was sure no other company would give her.

After two rings, a calm, professional feminine voice answered.

—Echelon Security Services, how may I assist you?

—Hi, um... I need a security system installed —Y/n said, her voice tinged with exhaustion—. It's a bit urgent.

—Of course. We can dispatch a representative within the hour to assess your property and discuss the best options. Would that work for you?

—Yes, that would be great. Thank you.

The call ended quickly, leaving Y/n to pace her apartment, anxiety buzzing in her veins. As much as she didn't want to think too deeply about who broke into her place, her mind kept wandering... Who did it? And why? The remotely idea of Derek being behind it just to scare her made her breathe in deeply, trying to control the bubbling anger.

True to their promise, less than an hour later, a sharp knock sounded at her door.

When she opened it, a man in a neatly pressed navy suit stood before her, carrying a sleek black case. His expression was polite and professional, with a practiced smile that exuded reassurance.

—Good morning. I'm Mr. Gomez from Echelon Security Services. You called us about a security installation?

—Yes, come in —Y/n said, stepping aside to let him in.

Mr. Gomez walked into her apartment, his sharp eyes scanning the space with precision.

—May I take a quick look around to identify potential vulnerabilities?

—Sure.

As he moved through the apartment, he pointed out areas of concern with a tone that was warm yet impersonal.

—Your front door will need a reinforced lock to prevent forced entry. The windows are another weak point; we recommend contact sensors. And of course, we'll set up state-of-the-art systems: motion detectors, high-resolution cameras, and an alarm system that connects directly to our monitoring hub. It's the best in the industry.

Y/n nodded, her arms folded tightly across her chest.

—Anything to make this place feel normal again —she said softly, her voice shaky.

—Completely understandable, miss. We'll take care of everything. You'll feel safe again in no time.

Unbeknownst to Y/n, the man standing in her apartment wasn't just an ordinary technician. Mr. Gomez worked directly under San, and that visit was carefully orchestrated. Every word, every movement, was calculated.

By the evening, a team arrived to install the equipment. Cameras were placed in strategic locations -some of them being placed without Y/n being aware of it, or being told they were motion detectors-, everything she needed was quickly set up, and a sleek control panel installed by her front door.

—Everything is good to go —Mr. Gomez said as he handed her the manual—. If you have any issues, don't hesitate to call us.

As Y/n thanked him and closed the door behind him, she finally let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

Hours later, the apartment was silent except for the soft hum of her laptop. Y/n sat cross-legged on her bed, the bright light from the screen casting an eerie glow across her face. Her search bar blinked, waiting. Hesitation gripped her fingers as they hovered over the keys before she typed: San Choi Obsidian Ventures.

She hit "Enter," and a flood of results appeared.

There were articles detailing his meteoric rise in the corporate world, glowing reviews of his leadership, and photos from charity events and galas. Y/n clicked through each link, soaking in every detail, her heart beating faster with every piece of information.

San's face, confident and enigmatic, stared back at her from countless photos. He had a way of commanding attention, always perfectly poised, his sharp gaze piercing through the lens.

Her stomach twisted as she scrolled past an image of him with a group of high-profile businesspeople. She began looking deeper, her focus narrowing to his connections. Names, faces, dates... they were added to the growing web of information in her mind.

Hours passed, but she didn't stop. Her obsession only deepened when she stumbled across a recent post on a social media account linked to an upscale magazine. It was a photo from a glittering charity event: San in a tailored black suit, his hand resting lightly on the waist of a stunning woman.

The caption read:

"Power couple vibes! Obsidian's owner Choi San and the lovely Evelyn Parker spotted last night in the city."

Y/n froze, her chest tightening. Her fingers trembled as she zoomed in on the photo. Evelyn was tall and elegant, her figure draped in a flowing emerald gown that sparkled under the event lights. She was laughing, her gaze locked on San, her smile intimate and effortless.

Jealousy burned in Y/n's chest, sharp and unwelcome. She felt her breath hitch as her grip tightened on the laptop. Why did it bother her so much? Why did the sight of Evelyn leaning so close to him send a bitter taste to her tongue? The mere thought of that smile being answered back by San made her stomach twist, her frown deepened for no reason. The article was recent, which made her wonder whether San was ever really interested in her or her imagination made things up that had nothing to do with reality.

Without thinking, she saved the photo, the click of her mouse almost deafening in the quiet room. It sat there on her desktop, taunting her, as though Evelyn's laugh could echo through the image. For some reason, it didn't feel right to mix that picture with the few she had already saved of him.

She went even further, picking up her phone to look up Evelyn on social media and realize all of her accounts were public, quite oversharing for her taste. It was ironic: San was such an enigmatic and mysterious man, yet he always surrounded himself with overly public people.

Y/n snapped the laptop shut, but the image lingered in her mind, vivid and unshakable. The thoughts that evolved from it almost drove her crazy.

Her frustration boiled over. She shoved papers and books off her bed, pacing the room.

—What's going on with me —she muttered to herself. But the words felt hollow, even as she said them.

When she finally opened her laptop again, it was past midnight. The screen flickered to life, revealing the cluttered desktop: photos, articles, and notes she'd pieced together about San and his connections.

Yet, despite all the information she had, she felt no closer to understanding him. If anything, her obsession only made him more unreachable, more enigmatic. And, somehow, that kept drawing her even more to him.

As Y/n leaned back against the headboard, her gaze flickered to the saved photo of San and Evelyn again.

Her jaw clenched. If she was going to figure him out, she would have to do more than just watch from the shadows. She would have to step into his world, and make sure she wasn't left behind.

Meanwhile, among the darkness of his own room, San leaned back in his chair, his eyes fixed on a high-resolution screen displaying the live feeds from Y/n's apartment. His lips curled into a faint, satisfied smirk. His two screens were a reflection of all the control he had over her life: both in her workplace and her privacy, from that moment and on. And the best part was that she was the one who let him in.

He smirked satisfied, watching as Y/n moved through her apartment, blissfully unaware of his omnipresent gaze.

The city lights twinkled outside the floor-to-ceiling windows of San's penthouse, a sprawling view of endless possibilities. Yet his attention was fixed on the screen in front of him.

San sat in his leather chair, one hand cradling a crystal glass of whiskey, the other idly tapping the edge of his desk. The soft glow of multiple monitors illuminated his face, their flickering images reflecting in his dark, predatory eyes.

On the largest screen, a live feed from Y/n's apartment played in muted clarity. The angle captured her entire bedroom, where she sat on her bed, her laptop perched on her knees. Her brows were furrowed in focus, her fingers flying across the keyboard.

He couldn't see what she was working on, but her intensity fascinated him.

San swirled the whiskey in his glass, the faint clink of ice against crystal breaking the silence. His lips curled into a slow, calculating smirk as he watched her lean forward, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. The simple motion held his gaze, every detail of her body language feeding his growing obsession.

—What are you working so hard on, hmm? —he murmured to himself, his voice low and amused.

He leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking softly under his weight, and set the glass down. The feed continued uninterrupted, showing her shifting positions, her frustration evident as she ran a hand through her hair.

The predator in him delighted in her unknowing vulnerability. She had no idea she was under his watchful eye, that every moment of her solitude was laid bare before him.

San's gaze darkened as he took in the chaos of her apartment, a reminder of the recent break-in. The chaos bothered him -not because it affected her, but because it disrupted the pristine image of control he wanted to maintain.

Why didn't she pick it all up yet?

His fingers drummed against the desk, a subtle rhythm that mirrored the calculated thoughts running through his mind.

—If only you knew how fascinating you are... —he mused, his tone almost admiring.

Still, a flicker of possessiveness sparked in his chest. Her obsession wasn't his to control yet. Not entirely. And that wouldn't do.

San's eyes narrowed as Y/n suddenly stopped typing. She stared at the screen for a long moment before shutting her laptop with a soft thud. She leaned back against her pillows, her expression clouded with something between determination and frustration.

He tilted his head, studying her as though trying to decipher a puzzle.

—Soon, you'll realize you don't need to look elsewhere, Y/n. Everything you're searching for leads back to me. Soon you'll realize I'm everything you need.

The hunt was just beginning, and San was always patient when it came to his prey.

The ice in San's whiskey glass had melted, leaving the amber liquid undisturbed. He stared at the screen, captivated by the image of Y/n still lying in her bed. She was motionless, her face serene but distant, as though her thoughts were miles away.

Then she stirred.

San's brows furrowed as she sat up suddenly, her movements hurried. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, brushed her hair back, and walked toward the door.

The view shifted as she opened it, revealing a man standing in the hallway. San's body went rigid.

The man was tall, dressed casually, his posture relaxed but confident. He leaned against the doorframe, his hands shoved into his pockets, a slight smirk on his lips. San's jaw tightened as he watched the exchange.

Y/n folded her arms, clearly hesitant, but she didn't close the door. She stepped back, letting the man into her apartment.

San's fingers curled into a fist, his knuckles whitening as the stranger moved closer to Y/n. They were speaking, though the feed didn't capture sound. The man gestured toward her, his expression softening, almost pleading.

The moment the man reached out, lightly brushing Y/n's arm, something inside San snapped.

He leaned forward, his elbows resting on the desk, his eyes narrowed into slits. The proximity was unbearable to watch.

—Who the hell is he? —San muttered under his breath, his voice laced with venom— Y/n, don't let him touch you —he commanded, as if she was able to hear him.

The man's touch lingered a second too long before Y/n pulled away, her expression conflicted but not dismissive. She crossed her arms tighter, as though shielding herself. The man stepped closer, closing the space she'd tried to create.

San's lips curled into a snarl, his possessive streak flaring. The thought of someone else intruding into what he considered his domain was intolerable.

He grabbed his phone and typed a quick message to Wooyoung.

"Find out who was at her apartment tonight. I want everything on him. Now."

San's hand hovered over the desk as his fingers drummed with growing impatience. He picked up the phone again, adding another message.

"Come to my place immediately."

His gaze returned to the screen, his expression unreadable but dark. The man was still there, standing too close, his presence a glaring intrusion.

San downed the rest of his whiskey in one sharp motion, slamming the glass onto the desk. His smirk returned, cold and calculating.

—If he thinks he can take what's mine, he'll learn the hard way.

The live feed flickered slightly, but his focus never wavered. This was no longer just about control; this was personal. Nobody touched what was his and left without consequences. 

Taglist: @a-tiny-thing @brown88

https://www.wattpad.com/1509253426-until-you%27re-mine-choi-san-chapter-8

[captain-price-unofficially]

French helicopter cruiser Jeanne d'Arc (R97) off Hunter Island in the South Pacific. She could operate up to 10 helicopters of various types and was armed with 6 Exocet SSM launchers and 4 x 100mm guns

[photogirl894]

Just rewatched "Into the Breach" again and happened to catch a parallel to a scene all the way from "Return of the Jedi".

Bad Batch:

Crosshair: "They're about to jump."

Hunter: "Echo will come through. He just needs more time."

Return of the Jedi:

Admiral Ackbar: "We have no choice, General Calrissian. Our cruisers can't repel firepower of that magnitude."

Lando: "Han will have that shield down. We've gotta give him more time."

Both instances of people in a situation of impossible odds, relying on another person to help even their chances and believing they'll come through when others are in doubt. They hold onto that hope and trust in their friends because it's all they've got left.

Man, I love Star Wars parallels!! 😆

[wolveria]

What We Did on Felucia - Ch 4

Pairing: The Bad Batch x f!Reader

Series Warnings: Smut, dubcon, slow burn, sex pollen

Chapter Summary:

“Something else you wish to say?” “No, Master Yoda. Everything is included in the report.” “Sense more, I do.”

AO3

Between the medical droids and personnel (all Kaminoans, you realized, and of course that would make sense, most medical stations treated injured clones after all), you were soon cleared for duty.

You slowly dressed in a new pair of Jedi robes, these ones the standard fair for new knights. Your own specialized robes had been incinerated after they were stripped off your unconscious body, and after decontamination, nothing of the chemical remained. One of the Kaminoans informed you that even the sample they attempted to take from your skin had broken down too quickly to be useful. The Separatists had probably designed it that way so it would be more difficult to create an antiserum.

You were given a new comm device and told that the rest of your squad was cleared from medical, as well as for take-off from the station. After adding your signature to Hunter’s report, you boarded the Marauder in what was arguably going to be the most uncomfortable journey back to Kamino.

You wished you could say you weren’t a coward, and that you continued on as if everything was normal. But it wasn’t, so you didn’t, and you spent your time in the gunner’s seat, staring out at the blankness of hyperspace while you pretended to meditate.

The others let you be, for the most part. Wrecker and Echo asked how you were feeling (separately, of course), and Hunter came by with the occasional ration bar and unsubtle attempt to gauge how you were doing. Your responses were minimal and diplomatic, and not one of them bought it.

Tech and Crosshair remained scarce. Tech was often busy and distracted with maintaining the ship or working on a project, but his avoidance felt purposeful. Designed.

Crosshair’s absence felt like a heated point in an argument, one he was winning.

You only left to use the refresher, avoiding the bunks as if Wrecker had snuck another explosive onboard and tried to smuggle it under his pillow. You earned expectant looks when you did come out, at least from the others; Crosshair pretended you weren’t there, and you might have believed it if you didn’t sense every facet of his focus on your footsteps.

That wasn’t nearly as bad as Wrecker’s hopeful gaze slowly fading into hurt and disappointment.

The gunner’s seat was cramped and not meant for sleeping, but it was a long journey, and you couldn’t stay awake the entire time, exhaustion weighing you down. The first time you fell asleep, curled up and uncomfortable, you woke to a blanket covering you from the neck down, a cushion under your feet for support. Hunter’s familiar smell weaved into the fabric of the blanket, and you pulled it up to your face and closed your eyes.

Small indulgences would lead to disastrous outcomes. You knew this. It’s why you had to leave.

Once you landed on Kamino, the men didn’t stop you from departing for Coruscant—mainly because they didn’t know you were leaving. Like a literal coward in the literal night, you took a shuttle to a cruiser in orbit scheduled for the Inner Rim.

Your only obstacle had been Hunter’s attention after the Marauder touched down in the hanger bay. He caught you leaving the gunner chair after you sensed the ship was empty, and asked how you were doing. His gaze was a little too knowing at your answer that yes, you were fine. But when you said you just needed rest, he didn’t push it, and you left the planet within the hour.

The clone troopers on the cruiser sent curious glances your way, but they were cursory and mostly uninterested. You kept to yourself and silenced your comm when it beeped.

It had been a drizzling night when you left Kamino, but it was bright mid-morning when you landed on Coruscant. You thanked the gunship crew that took you directly from the cruiser to the Jedi Temple and prepared yourself for what came next. Striding through the golden halls wrapped you in a familiar warmth, but standing before the grand doors into the Council chambers made your stomach toss in a stormy sea.

You couldn’t remember the last time you were physically in the chamber, most times sending your reports to the database or attending meetings by holoprojector. If you could guess, the last time you were here was when the Council had assigned you to Kamino soon after the war started. You’d just earned the title of Master, and training a new army, even with the help of another Jedi and hired bounty hunters, had been a daunting task.

Your younger self could never have imagined it would lead you here.

With a signal you were unable to see or hear, the Jedi Temple Guards opened the massive double doors. Buttery sunlight spilled across your feet, trickling in from the windows that towered over your head. You took a deep breath and walked inside.

Not every member of the Council was there physically or by projection, but enough of them were that the nervousness stayed with you as you gave your debriefing. You repeated everything in Hunter’s report, neither deviating nor embellishing. You were glad you couldn’t sweat.

Some of the members had follow-up questions, such as the nature of the chemical, its intended purpose, and surprisingly, whether it could be replicated. You had to remind yourself they didn’t know what the chemical actually did, and you pleaded ignorance on all counts.

“That should be all we need,” Master Windu said from his regal seat, his expression stern but not unkind. “I think I speak for all of us when I say it’s good to see you made it through this trial intact.”

Intact. Right.

“Thank you, Master Windu.” You gave a small bow of your head. “I appreciate you taking the time to hear my report.”

And hopefully, this way, there was no reason for anyone to dig into the mission report any deeper.

“Something else you wish to say?”

You turned to Master Yoda, blinking, but the diminutive Jedi simply stared back, his face open and attentive.

“No, Master Yoda. Everything is included in the report.”

“Sense more, I do.”

You willed your heart to beat steadily, your face to remain blank. But this was the Council, and lying to them was as effective as trying to cheat a Hutt.

“I… will admit, it was a harrowing experience, for me and my troopers. I should have been better prepared for such an event.”

Master Kit Fisto spoke up, his tone kind even through the holoprojector.

“We have all fallen into the enemy’s trap, some more than others.” He cast a sideways glance at Master Kenobi who took the jab by rolling his eyes, and Master Fisto grinned toothily.

 “You did well,” Master Shaak Ti added from her own projected image; she was still on Kamino. “As did your men.”

“Yes, they did.” You met the eyes of the Council, your jittery nerves easing away. “Clone Force 99 conducted themselves admirably, as they always do, and I’m… I’m grateful to them. If they hadn’t acted so quickly, I would be a Separatist prisoner. Or worse.”

“Perhaps the first time in Republic history this particular squad has been said to conduct themselves admirably,” Master Kenobi chimed in with playful amusement, “but I too am grateful to them for your safe return. Anakin always spoke highly of them, so, perhaps I shouldn’t be surprised.”

Warmth spread through you, pleased to hear your men praised by others. They certainly deserved it, and you returned Master Kenobi’s smile.

Master Windu concluded the meeting as your mission report was the last item on the agenda. You almost made it past the inner chamber before Master Yoda somehow managed to get ahead of you, blocking your escape.

“A walk to soothe these old bones, I need. Accompany me, you will.”

At least he didn’t make it sound like a choice. Normally you would enjoy walking with the old master, but the way he’d watched you throughout the debriefing didn’t bode well for you.

You followed him into the lift, emerging onto the floor that led out into the gardens. The cool breeze tugged at the strands of your loose hair, a soothing touch that soothed your heated skin.

“Returned to the Temple, you have, even when not needed. Holoprojector easier, yes? Why are you here?”

Cutting straight to the point, then. At least you had no reason to wait now.

“This mission… took more out of me than I thought.” That was certainly true, so why did every word feel dishonest? The feeling only got worse as you finally voiced the reason you came to Coruscant. “I returned in hopes I could request a meditative retreat.”

“Hmm. Worked long you have, many missions without rest. Pushed yourself too far in your duties, perhaps.”

You swallowed hard and nodded.

“Approve of this time of restoration, I do.”

“Thank you, Master Yoda,” you said with genuine gratitude.

“Rest, yes, good rest.” His smile was bright, even a little impish. “Reflect on that which burdens the mind. Then you will find the serenity you seek, hmm?”

He added a small chuckle, and you returned a strained smile. The Grand Master had no idea how right he was, or perhaps he did, and you eventually dismissed yourself with the feeling that he sensed the weight of the choice you would have to make.

You only hoped he didn’t sense the reasons behind your doubt and conflict. Even Master Yoda would be shocked at the depraved depths you’d sunk, and how eager parts of you were to revisit those dark waters.

Meditation and rest brought you no closer to peace. Your comm was still silenced, and while you had messages when you logged onto a datapad, you read them but didn’t answer.

Each one was a pang in your chest. Hunter checking in, concerned when you didn’t answer your comm and he found you no longer on Kamino. Tech sending a short message updating you on the droid schematics that had been stolen from the Separatists, your reason for being on Felucia to begin with. Wrecker asking if you were okay and when you would be back. Echo giving you assurances that you could take your time, and the squad would be there when you returned.

There were no messages from Crosshair.

A week passed. The messages came less frequently until they stopped altogether. That was for the best. They would grow accustomed to your lack of presence, making the transition easier. They might even be relieved when you officially asked for a replacement to lead Clone Force 99 in your stead.

That’s what you told yourself, so why did you feel a jolt through your gut when you received a request for another Jedi to lead a mission as commanding officer?

You swallowed your reservations and anxiety and signed the form. Master Inaro would do a fine job leading your team, and your heightened emotions were a sign that you needed to remove yourself as their commander permanently. You had approved Hunter’s falsified report as a way to protect your men, but you couldn’t do it again. You were already compromised. Unfit to lead, no matter what Hunter said.

You wouldn’t allow yourself to linger on the loss of what you would never have again. Tech’s quick wit and curious mind. Wrecker’s large heart and sweet nature. Echo’s steadfast bravery despite everything he had endured. Crosshair’s scathing tongue and the teasing slant of his rare smiles. Hunter’s thoughtfulness and warmth even as he tried to maintain the distance of command.

It hurt. You were surprised at how much.

Days passed in what felt like a listless slump rather than restful meditation, the world around you dull and colorless until the day your datapad beeped. It was a copy of the mission report from Aldera. You stared at it for a long moment, and then tapped it open. If Hunter submitted a report this timely, it would be something worth reading.

The report hadn’t been completed by Hunter. Another Jedi’s name was listed, and attached to the mission report was a preliminary analysis of the events of the mission.

There was a third attachment, completed by the same Jedi: the death certificate of Master Inaro, and two critical injury reports for CT-9902 and CT-9904.

For the first time in the Bad Batch’s history, they had failed a mission.

Next Chapter

[the-l0st-lore]

*👯‍♂️* For the Clone Enthusiast *👯‍♂️*

A definitive list of ambience creators and their clone content to aid in your copin-AHEM writing, reading, drawing, daydreaming and make believing!! Here are some of my favorite audio tracks containing clone chatter/conversations.

(TLDR- Clone ambience videos are up top, clone wars era video game playthroughs without commentary are in the middle, and an index of supercuts containing all the scenes/lines of individual clones is at the bottom. Might look confusing if you’re on mobile but everything that’s underlined is in fact a hyperlink.)

[ ——🎧 Ambience 🎧—— ]

(Above) 79's with Clone Chatter

🧡 Clone Patrol with Chatter & Rain

🧡 Clone Foot Patrol with Chatter

____________________________________________

(Above) Clone War - (Combat / Droids / Clone Trooper Chatter / Vehicles / Radio Chatter)

💜 Venator Bridge: Combat (Clone Chatter / Engine Brown Noise / Space Battle)

💜 Venator Hangar (Engine Rumble Brown Noise / Clone Chatter/ Starfighters)

💜 Clone Sleeping Quarters - (Sleeping Clones / Barracks / Outpost / Clone Wars)

____________________________________________

(Above) Republic Gunship (engine white noise, radio chatter, rain, no music)

🧡 Republic Command Centre - (Felucia Nature, Deep Battle, Chatter)

🧡 Republic Attack Cruiser - (chatter, relaxing ship sounds, no music)

____________________________________________

(Above) Sleeping on the havac marauder - The Bad Batch Ambience // With occasional extracted dialogue

*I don’t feel comfortable posting someone’s face without their permission even if the profile is public and thus the ⭐️

[ ——🎮 Gameplay 🎮—— ]

While not technically ambience here are a few full gameplays of clone wars era video games with zero commentary and loads of voice acted clones:

1.) Star Wars: Battlefront 2 (2005) Full Campaign

2.) Star Wars: Republic Commando Remaster Full Game

3.) Star Wars: Clone Wars - Republic Heroes All Cutscenes (Full Game Movie) 1080p HD

[—🎬 Supercut Index 🎬—]

Is there a special copy paste man in your life? Use this small index to jump to supercuts of all your fave characters and scenes. *note that I've only included videos over a minute long but that the editors you will find below the index have an even more extensive library of characters. So if you don't see who you're looking for jump to one of the creators at the bottom.

Appo | Denal | Dogma | Hardcase | Hawk | Jesse | Kix | Rex | Tup

Cutup | Droidbait | Echo | Fives | Heavy

Boil | Cody | Oddball | Waxer

Boost | Comet | Sinker | Warthog | Wolffe

Crosshair | Echo | Hunter | Omega | Tech | Wrecker | 99 the OG

Rex's Underground:

Howzer | Nemec | Fireball

Coruscant Guard:

Fox | Hound

Misc Comandos:

Gregor | Scorch

Misc. Commanders:

Gree | Bly | Colt | "Fil" | Mayday

________________________________

Heroic Supercut Editors:

Revenge of Cinema | Journal of the Whills | Merrin

I have tried so many times to redo this link but it just won’t take so you should also check out Cardo over on YouTube (Clicking on Waxer, Boil or Bly’s links will get you over to their channel from this post!)