#cfb2023

[221bshrlocked]

fatal dis|at|traction

Pairing: Hunter x AFAB!Reader

Words: 9774

Warnings: Unrequited feelings (in more ways than one). Touch-starved characters. Lots of sweet/dirty talk. Hunter likes to tease a lot. Oral Sex (female receiving). Fingering. Squirting. Just a bit of a knife kink (it's not everyone's cup of tea so it's a very short scene). Pentrative, Unprotected Sex (wrap it up folks). Creampie. Cuddling.

Summary: You have feelings for Tech who is now taken. Hunter notices your little predicament and decides to offer you a solution, one that you take enthusiastically. Little do you know that this could be the start of something new.

A/N: It's been a minute but I'm very thankful for the Life Day Gift Exchange by @cloneficgiftexchange because I finally managed to write something. This is for @intricatechaosofyou who gave a prompt after my own heart. I hope you enjoy this as much as I did writing it. Coincidentally, this also fits into one of the @clonexreaderbingo prompts I got which I am embarrsingly behind on.

With every little chuckle you heard from Phee, your heart beat in jealousy at not being Tech’s center of attention. You thought it wouldn’t be an issue in the beginning, assuming that Tech would remain uninterested in Phee’s flirtatious advances. But the more she hung out with the team, the more he warmed up to her subtle compliments and faint touches. Before you knew what was happening, he was hanging out with her whenever you and the batch had time off from the crazy missions Sid continued to send you on. 

Then she took you to Pabu and things really spiraled. Their time together increased each day and you barely got to see him. You couldn’t blame him really, or Phee. You just wished you had more time or perhaps been a bit more brave about your feelings towards him.

Another random laugh fills the afternoon air, this time from Tech, and you can’t help but stop what you’re doing and look at the two of them enjoying the preparation for Life Day. You look with longing at the man who managed to captivate your heart with a simple, random fact, and you sigh heavily at knowing that you’ll never really have a chance with him. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Hunter breaks your sad train of thought, and you turn around to look at him, silently praying that he didn’t just notice you staring at his brother. You pack the decoration boxes and look down to the ground, pretending you don’t understand what he’s talking about. 

“What?” You ask once, and when Hunter doesn’t respond right away, you glance at him quickly to try and gauge his reaction, hoping that you can fool him by acting as clueless as possible about his question. He stares at you silently, uncrossing his arms and heading towards you to help you out with the rest of the boxes.

“I- I’m not sure what you’re referring to, Sarge.” You say in passing as you make your way to the storehouse, already thinking of some lie to respond with in case he dragged this out. When you set down all the empty containers, you shut the door behind the two of you and head towards the center of the town. 

“Don’t do that…not with me.” Hunter breaks the silence after a while, stopping you in your tracks and waiting until you acknowledge him. You ring your fingers nervously, gulping down the nervousness that built up in your throat before facing him. There’s another fake reply at the tip of your tongue but before you can say anything, Hunter beats you to it, stopping you from embarrassing yourself any further. 

“Come on, you can’t lie to me.” He furrows his eyebrows, looking at the couple standing not too far from you before centering his attention back on you again.

“I’m not lying.” You’re more defensive than you’d like and Hunter sighs in irritation, shaking his head and taking those last few steps towards you. The last thing he wants to do is embarrass you but he knows this conversation won’t go anywhere unless you willingly open up to him. 

“Then why is your heart racing? I can practically feel you shaking. You’re not even looking at me.” Your palms grow sweaty the more he reveals those little details about you. 

“Talk to me.” You never thought you’d hear him plead for anything and when you finally look at him, you see a genuine, heartfelt expression on his face, one that makes you feel even more horrible about the predicament you found yourself in. 

“It’s not important, don’t- just don’t worry about it.” You wave your hand around and turn around to walk away from him, only to feel a strong hold wrap around your wrist and stop you from going anywhere else. 

“Tech is a genius, but he can be incredibly dense at times.” Hunter waits until you meet his eyes again before he whispers that last sentiment. The shock of the exclamation sends your heart racing, and your eyes widen in horror at the prospect of everyone else potentially knowing your feelings for Tech. 

“Wha- how…how did you know?”

“I know mesh’la, I know.” He loosens his grip a little, but doesn’t let you go completely, not wanting you to run away from him. The two of you stand in quietness for too long to your liking, and you give up on trying to pretend you don’t know what he’s talking about. 

You give up on trying to make it seem like you’re okay. 

“Is it that obvious?” The chuckle is self-deprecating, and you avoid looking into his hazel gray eyes, afraid you’d cry if he continues to give you that horribly sentimental expression. 

“Not to the others, although Echo guessed just as much a while back. But no, the others don’t know.” Hunter lets go of you then, but he doesn’t move away from you, wanting you to know that he’s here to help in whatever you’ll allow him to. 

“How did you find out?” You move away from the crowd slowly forming around the town square, wanting to have some privacy from prying eyes, from Wrecker and Omega. 

“I notice the way your eyes light up whenever he walks in the room, or goes on one of those rants about kriff knows what.” Anyone else would have laughed at you, but you feel at peace knowing that Hunter would never tease you about something like this. He was too kind to joke about such an intimate little secret. 

“Hmm.”

“And your heart beats like you’ve just run across the whole of Coruscant.” Hunter adds as he comes to a halt in front of the house you reserved for yourself when you first got to Pabu. 

“Ahh, that is extremely embarrassing.” You turn away from him as you respond, not wanting to be at the receiving end of whatever comment he was going to throw your way.

“It’s not…it’s natural to react that way when you have feelings towards someone.” You’re a little surprised by his explanation, mostly because you never thought he’d be the type to speak so sweetly about something as awkward as emotions. 

“Right.” You can’t help but smile when you see him shrug at you, and as you’re about to unlock your door, Hunter turns around and grabs the knob, preventing you from reaching for it, let alone turn around and get away from him. 

“You know what you need?” He asks, and you shiver at the sudden drop in his voice, wondering why he was suddenly becoming so friendly with you. 

“Please enlighten me, because this whole conversation hasn’t been humiliating enough as is.” You laugh in an attempt to diffuse the tension slowly building in between the two of you, but Hunter doesn’t crack a single smile, roaming his eyes down your neck and taking in a deep breath before meeting your gaze once more. 

“You need to get your mind off of him, just for a little while. Find a distraction…sometimes you have to stay busy so you don’t feel.” You’re too distracted by the proximity between his body and your own to dwell on the true meaning behind his words. 

“Yeah well, good thing we’re staying here. Helping rebuild the city will definitely take my mind off of him and…ugh, I guess make me focus less on seeing the two of them together.” Looking past him to the slowly busying town square, you completely miss the way he bites his lower lip as he studies you closely and shakes his head at your response. 

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Oh yeah, what do you mean th-” Turning your focus back to him, the words die in your throat when you finally notice the way he’s looking at you. You part your lips in a gasp, finding it difficult to breathe as Hunter leans into your space and groans his intentions against your jaw. 

“I mean…you need to get your mind off of him, and onto something else…perhaps someone else.” Your body freezes at the unexpected intimacy of the moment, and although you know you should push him away and tell him to forget whatever was happening, you tell yourself that this might just be what you need to forget about Tech. 

“I s-see.” Hunter’s hand reaches for your waist, holding you against him until he’s sure you’re accepting his advances. He smiles at you, his eyes twinkling with mischief that sends a zap of lightning down your spine. 

It was a warm day in Pabu, but having Hunter flush against your chest makes you even more heated, and you gulp down whatever nervousness was threatening to make itself known in the form of a rejection, allowing your fingers to dance along his forearm before you grab onto his shoulders for support. 

“W-what do you have in mind?” He gets even more bold then, wrapping his arm around your back and pulling you in until you nearly bump your forehead against his nose. 

“I think you know.” His voice is gravely, and it occurs to you then that he may have always had this deep baritone, but you just never truly appreciated it until now. 

“Humor me, Sarge.” You smirk right back at him, eyes dancing from his lips to his piercing gaze in preparation for what he’s about to say. 

“Well, you’ll first need to find someone willing to help you out, someone who knows all about distractions. Then, you take them somewhere private and…how should I put this, kindly ask them to fuck your brains out…take the edge off a little…and if you start thinking of him again, you get on your knees and have them dick you down real hard…till you can’t think straight.” His lips graze across the skin of your cheek, down to your neck, as he promises you the filthiest sentiments, and if you weren’t sure you knew the man standing in front of you was far beyond the average man, you would have asked him how he had you melting into his arms in such a small period of time. 

“Maker,” you nearly reach up to kiss him but then quickly remember that anyone can see you. Before you can push him away, Hunter nudges you harshly to get your attention again, not wanting you to get distracted by your surroundings or if anyone might hear what the two of you have in mind. 

“Hmm, I think your body agrees with me sweetheart. Why don’t you have that tired brain of yours catch up?” He nods at your head, tilting his head to the side as if he was asking you a silent question. 

“Do you…do you know someone that can do all of what you just said?” 

“You’re right in luck baby, I happen to be free for the next couple of hours.” Hunter responds right away, knowing that it would be extremely difficult to have you like this again. 

“Ahhh, t-that saves me from looking then.” You smile when he rests against you and nudges your nose with his own, aquiline one. 

“So, what do you want?” Again, his voice is smoother than honey, sending you spiraling in a matter of seconds out of anticipation. 

“I thought you…don’t be cruel, please.” You kiss the corner of his mouth, feeling the rough stubble across his sharp cheeks burn you in the sweetest way. Hunter turns his head far enough to finally tough his lips with your own, the kiss ending far too quickly to your liking but leaves you begging for more. 

“Never…never. I mean, how do you want it mesh’la? You want it slow, soft, sensual…” He slithers his hands across your body, leaving a trail of fire across your skin with each sweet touch he graces you with. 

“Or do you like it hard and fast…till you can’t scream anymore?” He digs his nails into your curves then grabbing and squeezing your ass until you nearly fall against him.

“Oh fuck…I- Hunter, please.”

“You’re a big girl, use your words and tell me what you want!” Hunter combs his hand into your hair, tugging on it harshly until you throw your head back and give him access to your neck. He descends down on you like a madman, nipping and sucking on the soft expanse of your skin until you’re panting in his embrace. 

“You want me to be sweet with you…or do you want to feel me with every step you take tomorrow?” He licks the bitemarks he’s left behind, chuckling to himself when he feels you shaking in his arms and practically begging him to fuck you right out in the open. 

“Please Hunter, be- be rough with me. As rough as you want.” You reach for the collar of his shirt, fisting it in your hands as if you were holding on for dear life. You should have known that as everything else, Hunter would easily take you down without breaking a sweat. 

“A girl after my own heart.” He chuckles then, the sweet sound shooting straight into your chest and making you wish he just pushed the door behind you open and took you somewhere more private. 

“I’ll take my time with you next time baby, worship every fucking inch of your body as you deserve. But tonight…tonight I’m going to teach you how to take me…please me…open up for me and take my cum like the good girl I know you are.” He kisses across your damp skin in between words, finding it difficult to continue holding back when he could practically smell your arousal the more he whispers into your ears. 

“I’m going to fuck you into the next galaxy sweetheart, till the only name your pretty little brain can remember is mine and mine alone.” Your heart beats so fast Hunter thinks you might pass out, but as you melt into his arms and pull him closer to you, he knows that you’re enjoying this as much as he was. 

“And believe me when I tell you, I’ll know if you’re thinking of him. So be a pretty little sweetheart and focus on me.” He moves away to take a better look at you, raising a curious eyebrow when he finds you completely lost in every touch and every sweet word he was gifting you with. 

“Yes,” you barely manage to breathe out, waiting for whatever he still has in stock for you. 

“Yes?” Hunter asks, his expression turning more serious when you open your eyes and look right into his own. There’s something so erotic about how much he can sense every little reaction you have to his advances, but he sets his thoughts aside long enough to hear you openly consent to him. 

“Yes, sergeant.” Those two words are music to his ears, and he steps away instantly, but not before making sure you can still stand on your own two feet. You snap out of your haze when you no longer feel the heat of his body against yours. 

“Good girl.” He grabs your hand and leads you away from your home, down the tiled pathway towards the quieter side of the island. 

“Where…where are you taking me?”

“Some place where you can scream my name without worrying about anyone hearing you.” He nearly stops in his tracks when he hears you moan in response to his words, but he knows that if he looks back now, he might never make it to his own place. If anything, the reaction he gets out of you makes him walk quicker, not caring for how you stumble several times as he continues towards the smaller, but more private homes at the bottom of the island. 

You can’t look away from him, and as you follow him blindly, you find yourself surprised at not wishing he was someone else. Maybe because you’ve always found him objectively handsome, all the clones were if you were being honest, or perhaps because you’ve always wondered what it would be like to be with someone like Hunter, someone who you knew would be so attuned to every sound and every muscle twitch you’d have that he’d know instantly how to please you. But the longer you dwell on it, the more you realize that you’re lucky to have someone like him pay you this much attention, or even be willing to give you this favor. 

Little did you know that while you were longing for Tech, Hunter was struggling to keep his own feelings at bay. He didn’t want to take advantage of you, far from it, but he figured that maybe, just maybe, if he showed you how much he cares for you, you’d look at him instead of his brother. 

He can feel your eyes on him, and his heart skips a beat at the prospect of finally having your attention. Hunter wants to ask you if you’re sure about this, but as he approaches his residence, he finds himself less willing to break the two of you out of whatever cloud you’ve fallen under, afraid that you’d change your mind and leave. 

The thought nearly breaks his heart, but as he slows down and unlocks his door, he feels your hands shaking even harder, and he knows then that he needs to give you an out because you may not be able to take it yourself. 

“Sweet girl, you’re trembling.” He turns around and cups your neck, forcing you to look into his eyes so you’re sure he doesn’t mind if you walk away from him. 

“If you’ve changed your mind…if- if you don’t want this anymore, we can stop. It’s- it’s okay.” The words sound less convincing to his ears, but he braces himself for the rejection he’s sure you’re about to give him. 

“No, Hunter please.” Your instant response sends a wave of relief and reluctance through his chest, and his eyes widen for a fraction of a second before they soften again, knowing that if you noticed his expression, you might push through just to not upset him. 

“I won’t have you against your will baby.” He leans over and kisses the small space in between your eyebrows, waiting until you relax against him before he pulls away and meets your gaze again. 

“I want this, Hunter. I- I want you. I’d be lying to myself if I said otherwise.” You tug at his forearms, wanting him to not shy away from you, perhaps even afraid that he’d change his mind and tell you to leave. Your nerves slowly rise again and Hunter must sense your spiraling thoughts because he pulls you into the small space and shuts the door behind you, pushing you against the wall and stepping impossibly close to you so you can only feel him. 

“Tell me what you need. Right this moment.” 

“Can you just...hold me for a minute? I- I need to feel your arms around me.” You barely manage to breathe out the request, not because you think he’ll laugh at it but because you find yourself having a difficult time thinking of a single coherent thought. 

“Sure thing ad’ika, come here.” Hunter slowly walks back to the small bed at the edge of the wall, sitting down on the soft surface of the covers before pulling you into his lap. You follow him quietly, finding it oddly soothing to have him in control of your actions rather than your own mind. You throw your arms around him and rest your head on his chest, willing yourself to relax as soon as you feel his hands roam across your back soothingly. 

“I want you to focus on my heartbeat.” You do as he says, moving your head down a little further so you can listen to his heart. If you’re shocked by how much faster it is, you say nothing and dwell on the fact that he may be just as nervous as you are. 

“Take deep breaths,” Hunter slides one hand underneath your shirt to test the waters, shutting his eyes and smiling to himself when your muscles relax deeper into him. 

“Nothing else matters, little one. Only you, and me…right here and now.” He reminds you one last time, massaging your back and turning his head every once in a while to kiss you. Hunter shuts his eyes to commit this moment to memory, unsure of whether he’ll ever get to have you like this again or not. He says nothing after, wanting to ensure that you have all the time you need before the two of you do anything. 

You’re not sure how long you spend in his arms but when you no longer feel nervous at being in his presence, you pull away and rest your hands on his chest, willing yourself to be brave enough to look into his eyes after experiencing such an intimate moment with him. 

“Feeling better?” He reaches for your chin and moves it up softly to take a better look at you. As soon as he looks into your eyes, he smiles at you, waiting until you return the expression before doing anything else. 

“Hmm.”

“Then why don’t you lay back for me.” He moves you off of him and studies you closely as you maneuver yourself around his bed. You’re less shy than before, that he’s sure of, but you do as he says more confidently, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by Hunter, and makes him imagine all that he can do to you. 

“You know, I- I always thought you had a soothing voice,” you break the silence reluctantly, biting your lower lip when you notice Hunter smirking at the unexpected sentiment. 

“Yeah?” He questions as he kneels on the bed and slowly crawls towards you. 

“Yes, but now…now I’m realizing it’s your presence.” You waver in your response, finding it difficult to think of anything when he’s looking at you like you’re his prey. 

“Tell me more.” Hunter demands, dancing his fingers across whatever skin he has access to and watching as goosebumps erupt across your body at the simple touches. 

“It’s in your touch, your- kriff, your movements…your gaze.” You arch your back when Hunter digs his nose at the space just above the edge of your pants and takes a long whiff of your scent. You think that if anyone else has done something so strange, you’d be turned off by it, but this was Hunter, and scenting was important to him, especially since he must have been getting awfully close to you because he liked what he could smell. 

“Glad to be of service,” he comments in passing, nudging your shirt up to get more access to the skin of your stomach. He kisses your navel, breathing you in with each new bit of flesh he came across. 

“Gods above,” you can’t take it anymore, reaching for his shoulder and trying to pull him closer to you so he could speed things up a bit. 

“No sweetheart, it’s only me.” He chuckles at the whine you send his way, looking up at you as he parts your thighs and makes space for himself in between. 

“You’re d-driving me insane Hunter.” Hunter doesn’t move an inch as you try to bring him closer. If anything, he slows down even more and takes both of your hands into his own, softly kissing the wrist of each one before bringing them above your head. 

“If you’re still coherent, then I’m not driving you insane enough.” He’s teasing you, and if you didn’t know better, you’d think he was pushing you to a point where you could do nothing but beg for him. So distracted with the patterns he’s drawing across your arms, you don’t realize where the other hand is reaching until you feel his grip tighten around your throat. 

“Ahh, please.” You arch your back, grabbing the sheets beneath you in an attempt to keep your hands where he asked you to. You want nothing more than to wrap your arms around him and surrender to his lips, but you knew better than to disobey his orders. Hunter was a strict man in the field, and you were positive he wasn’t any different in this context. If anything, he was probably even more severe now. At least you hoped he would be. 

“And remember baby, it’s ‘Sergeant’ for you. Got it?”

“Yes, sergeant.”

“Now, do me a favor and keep your hands there.” He taps twice on them, waiting until you nod in agreement before he sits back up and takes your wrecked form. He hoped you’d open up for him easily, but he never thought you’d be so needy, let alone greedy for him. 

“But how will you take my clothes off?” You pout at him, the expression making Hunter wish he could flip you over and fuck you into oblivion. But he knew you needed him to be soft tonight, even if you were adamant in making him get a little rough with you. 

“Let’s not spoil the fun.” He warns with a pinch to your hip, chuckling at the way you jump and your thighs unintentionally close around him. 

“A bit sensitive, aren’t we?” He rests one hand near your head as he leans down and kisses the corner of your mouth, waiting for you to breathe before touching your lips with his own. It’s a chaste kiss, yet it sends your heart leaping through the roof because of how unexpectedly tender it is. 

“I…haven’t done this in a while.” You whisper against his mouth, chasing him along when he begins to pull away again. 

“Shame,” it’s such a simple comment, and yet you feel a string of butterflies in your stomach at the implication behind it. The fact that you held Hunter’s focus when so many on the island were begging for it makes you wish he could have approached you sooner. 

“Hmmph,” the sound of your moan reaches your ear instantly, and you try to hide from Hunter out of embarrassment, but he doesn’t let you, moving down your body slowly and continuing to drive you mad with need for him. 

“Go on baby, moan for me.”

“What if s-someone hears?”

“Everyone’s in town for the celebrations,” he reaches down and unbutton your pants, looking straight into your eyes as he pulls the fabric down your legs and throws it behind him. You try to close your legs quickly, afraid he could smell how wet you are. But Hunter is much faster than you, and he prevents you from moving another muscle, looking down once at the dark patch on your panties before meeting your eyes again, silently letting you know that he could smell you long before this very moment. 

“No one’ll hear you, mesh’la. So beg all you want, you’re mine tonight.” He slips one finger beneath the edge of your panties, thumbing at the skin of your hips to get you to calm down a little before he does anything else. 

“Only tonight?” You don’t mean to ask this question, not now at least, but you figured you may as well see if this was a one-time thing or not. 

“Oh I don’t get to decide that, you do.” He surprises you with his answer, and the shock must be visible on your face because Hunter tilts his head to the side and stares at you until you realize you really were in control of what goes on between the two of you. 

“So if I- oh kriff, if I want you to fuck me every night…”

“Then ask me nicely.” He slips one hand underneath your shirt, raising it above your stomach to your chest and laying it across your sternum to feel your heartbeat. When you don’t respond right away, he slides his hand a little further and draws random patterns just below your breast. 

“Better yet, beg me sweetly…and I’ll give you my cock whenever you like.” He promises as he continues to edge you into submission, something that makes you wish you could yell at him about and thank him for. 

“T-thank you, sarge.” Your breathing becomes erratic the longer he touches you anywhere but where you want him, and just as you begin to give up hope, he removes his hands completely from your form and reaches behind him. 

“Do you trust me cyar’ika?” The question is asked with hesitance, and you’re not sure why he’s asking you this all of a sudden, but when you hear the sound of a clasp coming undone, you know why he’s being so serious. 

“You know I do.” It’s the first thing you said since he dragged you behind him where you aren’t practically shaking beneath him, and once he’s completely satisfied with your response, he pulls out the blade from its holster and flips it around. You’re enamored by the swift movement of the weapon as it dances in between his fingers, and the faster Hunter plays with the knife, the more difficult you find it to breathe. 

“Then look at me.” He demands as he stops swinging the knife around, and you obey him instantly, gulping excitedly as he leans over your body once again and places the sharp end of the knife at the top of your shirt, inches below your neck.  

“Don’t,” Hunter warns slowly, nicking small holes into your shirt until the article of clothing rips down the middle, “move,” his voice is somehow even more gravely than before, and you stop breathing altogether, not because you think he’ll hurt you but because you can’t help but feel turned on by how focused he is on you and how safe you feel with something so dangerous, “a muscle.” He continues to ruin your shirt and you can’t find it in yourself to care one bit, knowing that being at Hunter’s mercy was worth far more than any shirt you could own. When he completely separates both sides of the fabric, he slips the wide edge of the knife beneath the fabric and pushes it to the side before grabbing the other with his fingers and displaying your nude skin to his hungry eyes. 

You let out a deep breath and refuse to look anywhere else but his dilated pupils, clenching your thighs tightly at knowing that you were the reason behind such a dramatic reaction from him. 

“I can smell you, little one. Does this turn you on?” He finally looks away from your heaving chest to your eyes, and when he finds you already staring at him, he smiles to himself and places the knife down gently on the small table near his bed. You’re disappointed that he clearly won’t be using it anymore, and Hunter notices the small expression because he trails his fingers down your front and pinches one nipple to get your attention. 

“Use your words and tell me.” You arch into his rough ministrations, whispering your response and moaning for more. 

“Y-yes, it does.”

“I knew you’d be fun.” He soothes the heated skin of your breast, drawing small circles around one nipple just as he leans down and takes the other in between his teeth. You whine his name over and over again, and Hunter growls his approval against you, lapping up the bitemarks he left around your hardened peak before sucking harshly on it again. 

“Fuck, I do love how sensitive you are.” He manages to say right before diving for the other nipple and tasting your natural scent along with the soap you use to shower. 

“And how hard your nipples perk at the touch of my fingers.” He thinks you’re about to move one hand so he reaches quickly for it, gripping it tightly and keeping it against the bed while he leaves angry marks across your chest. 

“Ahh maker, please sergeant.” Your moans are becoming louder, and Hunter decides then and there that if you were going to scream for him, it should be his name falling from your lips, not his rank. The only warning you get before he descends down your body is his hand slipping underneath your panties and instantly pushing two fingers into your cunt. You’re dripping for him, and his thick fingers rub against your tight walls with an embarrassing ease. 

“Kriff, I know I asked you to call me that, but forget it.” Hunter looks into your eyes as he lets go of your wrist and grabs the back of your neck, not bothering to say anything else as he lunges for your mouth and swallows your moans. You part your thighs and your lips for him, not caring for any rule he’s given you as you throw your arms around his neck and pull him closer to you. He fingers you slowly, but as begin to clench tightly around him, Hunter can’t hold back anymore and he moves off of you with a wet smack before crawling down your body. You’re shocked by the sudden urgency of his movement, and as soon as you reach for his hair and tug on it, you feel his warm lips close around your clit and his tongue aggressively lap at the engorged bundle of nerves. 

“I want you to scream my name, mesh’la. Scream my name as you come on my tongue.” 

“Hu- ahhh g-gods!” You’re not aware of what you’re saying, and the harder Hunter thrusts his fingers into you, the quicker you feel your release coming along. 

“You smell…so sweet.” Hunter manages to breathe in between his assault on your pussy, and you let go of his hair to grab for the sheets beneath you, not wanting to hurt him by how hard you’d pull on his hair. 

“But you taste so much sweeter.” He feels his cock harden as the taste and scent of you fill his nostrils. Normally, he’d find it overwhelming to be surrounded by so many strong scents, but the more you gush for him, the more he wants to dive into you and make you soak him with your arousal. 

“Hunter, oh right there…please.” You reach for his hair again, but this time, you pull so hard that his red bandana comes off in your hand and reminds you to loosen your hold so as to not overwhelm him with too many sensations. 

“Sorry, I-” You try to apologize but the words trail off when Hunter looks up and shakes his head at you. 

“I don’t mind, sweet thing. Go on, pull as hard as you want.” He leans down and kisses the hand near his head, nipping at your thumb to let you know that he was feeling more than okay. 

“But won’t that-” You don’t want him to feel like he needs to do this for you, but Hunter distracts you again, rubbing at your clit with his thumb to get you to listen to him. 

“Please cyar’ika, let me feel you…everywhere.” Hunter begs you, pushing your thighs apart even more in an attempt to get you to do as he says. He doesn’t wait for a response then, descending down on you again with more passion than you thought him capable of in such a setting, and before you know it, he has you right at the edge with his expert hands and his enthusiastic mouth. You should have known that he’d know what you like quickly, but something about him being so attuned to your responses pushes you closer to your orgasm, and before you know it, you’re shutting your eyes and letting the flood of sensations overtake you. 

“Hmm fuck, that’s it.” You scratch at his scalp as you pull on his hair, the action driving Hunter nearly mad and making him grab at your stomach to keep you planted to his face. 

“Hunter…I- I’m co-” His harsh breathing and how hard he continues to lick at your clit is all you need to fall apart, and as soon as he coils his fingers inside you and rubs your tight walls, you come around him instantly, shaking violently beneath his firm body and screaming nonsense into the damp air of the room. It’s becoming nearly too much, and although you want him to stop, you can’t find it in yourself to push him away, a part of you sensing that he may need this as much as you. So you let him continue his assault on your cunt, and before you realize what’s about to happen, Hunter pulls away and watches as you soak his arms and his bed with your juices. He doesn't let up once, plunging his fingers into you so quickly that you manage to wet even his thighs. When he hears your heart beating impossibly rapidly against your chest, he slows down and removes his hand from you, pulling away and watching as your panties hide you from his eyes again. 

He waits until you look at him before he slowly sucks on each of his fingers, smirking to himself when you hide behind your arms and close your thighs immediately. 

“I changed my mind.” His voice is rough, and you’re not sure if it’s because he’s turned on or because he’s having a difficult time breathing just as you. Then the words settle in your remind and you move your hands away to take a better look at him. 

“W-what?” You don’t have time to grab him as he gets off the bed and reaches for his shirt, throwing it away as well before unzipping his pants and pulling them down his thighs and stepping out of them before kneeling on the bed again. 

“We can do rough later. Right now, I want to watch you come undone…slowly.” He grabs your ankles and pulls them apart, not caring for how blatant he’s being with his staring as he moves towards you again. 

“Fuck baby, you’re gushing for me.” His disbelief sends a shiver down your spine and you softly smack his thigh to get his attention away from your heated core. 

“Hunter, don’t- don’t say stuff like that.”

“And why shouldn’t I?” He narrows his eyes at you, daring you to say anything in disagreement. 

“It’s…embarrassing.” You manage to whisper out, only to have Hunter shamelessly wipe the wetness over your legs with his hand. 

“No, it’s fucking sexy mesh’la….and if I had known taking my shirt off would turn you on this much, I would have walked around naked since you came on board.” He reaches for your hand and you squeal suddenly when he tugs you harshly until you nearly smack his chest. Looking down at you, Hunter bites into his lower lips as he pulls the rest of your shirt away and throws it away, not bothering to push you back into bed when you rest your hands against his naked chest and feel his muscles flex and unflex. 

“Speaking of taking things off…” You try to grab your panties but Hunter stops you, shaking his head and bringing your hand back to his skin. 

“No, keep’em on.” 

“But-”

“These are mine now, and I want nothing more than to smell your cunt and my cum on them…when I take them.” Hunter nods down at the wet article of clothing as he swipes your hair away from your face and softly grazes your bruised lips. 

“Hmph, you’re a shy little thing aren’t you?” He wonders out loud when you turn away from and rest your forehead against his stomach, once again feeling a sense of pride wash over him at being the one to bring such a reaction out of you. 

“Do the honors.” He takes your hands and moves them down his rigid form, not missing the way your breath hitches when you feel the muscles on his stomach flutter at the soft touch of your palms. You don’t dare look up at him as you drag his boxers down his hips until his cock juts out from beneath the elastic. 

“Oh fuck me.” You stop what you’re doing as soon as you see the size of him, and Hunter uses your moment of distraction to his advantage, pushing you back into the bed and moving away to step out of his boxers before returning to you again. 

“Since you asked so nicely.” He remembers the biosheath and finds one in his drawer instantly, but before he can take it out, you take his wrist and bring it back to you. 

“Wait-” You stop him, unsure of what to say now that he was looking at you with such an unreadable expression. 

“You don’t have to- like I said, I haven’t done this in…in a while. And I’ve-” Your attempts to explain to him that you don’t have anything and that you wouldn’t mind it if he didn’t use a biosheath with you evaporate into thin air, and as you give up on trying to relay the message, Hunter shuts the drawer and lays on top of you. One look into his eyes gives you away and you turn from him to avoid whatever embarrassing words you’re sure he’s about to relay to you. 

“You want me to fill you with my seed, little one?” The question is asked in such a low voice that you nearly miss the playfulness in between. You refuse to acknowledge him, afraid of how much he’d drag this out if you told him outright that you wanted to feel him leak out of you. 

“You want me to fuck my cum deep inside your pretty little cunt?” He asks again, this time as he slips his hand in between your bodies and wraps his palm around his hard cock, lazily stroking his length while teasing your clothed clit with the tip of his dick. He goes on for too long, and when you can’t take it anymore, you moan in agreement, hoping that the outburst pushes him to finally, finally, fuck you. 

“O-ohh gods, please…please.” The way he cups himself and teases the both of you nearly sends you into overdrive, and just as you begin to give up hope, Hunter tugs aside your panties, and pushes his cock against your wet folds, giving you a taste of what’s to come. 

“Keep begging baby.”

“Please Hunter…I need you. I- I want you to come inside me, want to feel you all night long.” He was planning on making you cry for him, but the sound of your voice telling him everything he’s heard a thousand times in his dreams sends him reeling and before he can warn you, he pushes his cock into your slit, arms nearly giving out at finally feeling your cunt welcome him in. You arch your back as soon as you feel his thick, hard cock fill you, and although you should be embarrassed at how easily he slides into you, you don’t bother thinking about it, not when Hunter was finally giving you what you’ve been craving. 

“Kriffing hells, you feel so good mesh’la…so tight and hot for me.” He stops moving, the heat of your cunt making him nearly lose his mind and whatever bit of control left in him. 

“Hunter-” You don’t like the fact that he’s stopped pushing into you, but then he moves and you realize that maybe you needed a second to get used to him after all. 

“I know, love. I know, just a little bit more.” Hunter kisses your forehead, lips quivering at the thought of being too much for you to handle. He waits until you’re relaxed a little before he gives you more of his cock, and when you drag your nails across his arms and grab onto his shoulder, he stops again to soothe you. 

“You want to be a good girl for me, don’t you?” 

“Yes…oh maker yes.” Your voice breaks, making Hunter wish you weren’t so kriffing sensitive to him. 

“Then open up for me…take me.” He leaves a trail of wet kisses down your neck, licking and nipping at the taut skin in an attempt to distract you from whatever discomfort you were feeling. 

“Haa…ahh, you’re- so fucking hard.” Your words are unexpected, and Hunter fists his hands tightly into his pillows so he doesn’t do something he’d regret. He unintentionally thrusts the rest of his dick into your pussy, the action knocking the breath out of the both of you and sending a strike of pleasure down your spine.

“Only for you, sweetheart. O-only for you.” Hunter breathes against your chest, cursing at how much better you felt now than in his dreams. He could feel every inch of you squeeze him, and if it weren’t for the fact that you told him it’s been a while, Hunter would have begged to fuck you like he wanted. But it has been a while, and the last thing he wanted to do was to hurt you. When you wince at the slightest of movements, Hunter pulls back and studies you, carefully listening to your heartbeat and looking over you to see if you were too uncomfortable to do this now. 

“Are you okay?” He should be the one asking you this question, not the other way around, and even though a million compliments run through his mind, he barely manages to respond to your question. 

“Fuck, I’m more than okay.” He hisses out as you clench around him, and before he can let you know that he’s not reacting out of pain but of indescribable pleasure, you reach for his hair and tug him down, begging for him to do anything besides remaining still. 

“Then move…” You cross your legs behind his back to tempt him into moving against you, but Hunter remains impossibly still, resting his forehead against yours as he tries to tell you why he’s having a difficult time moving. 

“N-not yet, just let me feel you. Let me…feel all of you.” He hopes it’s enough for you to stop asking him to move, but he should have known better. 

“Is- is it too much?” Your shyness makes itself known again, and Hunter swears beneath his breath because he genuinely didn’t mean to come off so strained in his response. 

“No, it’s- you’re perfect.” It’s both everything he’s feeling and barely an explanation of what he’s reserved for you for so long, but he can’t find any other word to describe what he’s experiencing with you now. You’re about to ask him to keep talking when he finally listens to you and pulls out a little before thrusting back in. 

“Oh.” The simple word riles him up more than he cares to admit, and he sets a slow and sensual pace to calm himself down and give you what you desire. The small room fills with sounds of your harsh breathing and Hunter’s controlled growls, and before you know it, he’s hitting every inch of you in a way that makes you see stars. Then you look at him, and you find his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes shut tightly, and you just know that it’s because he wants to do more with you. 

“Hunter,” you call for him, soothing his back with your hands to let him know that you weren’t going anywhere. 

“Hmm?” His eyes flutter open instantly and you wonder if their color was always so intense and dark, or if this was just a product of what the two of you were doing. 

“Don’t h-hold back.” You cup his neck and pray to the maker that he listens to you.

“I already told you cyare, I want you to fall apart for me…nice and slow.” He pronounces each word with a soft push of his hips against you, and you know then that this would definitely not be the last time you sleep with him. It couldn’t be. 

“But I-”

“I want to commit you to memory. The way your heart skips a beat when I kiss your shoulders,” he leans closer against you and leaves a trail of wet kisses across your sternum to your shoulder, biting it playfully when he notices you trying to move along with him. 

“The way you bite your lips when I pinch with your nipples,” you throw your head back in ecstasy as he pinches your nipple and rolls it in between his thumb and his index finger. 

“The way your eyes shut when I sink my teeth into your skin,” Hunter takes one last look at the pleasure etched on your expression before taking the other hardened peak into his mouth, rolling his tongue around your nipple before biting down harshly just below the reddened skin. 

“The way your cunt clenches around my cock when I pull your hair,” you wrap your arms around his back and pull him flush against you when you feel him comb his fingers into the hair at the nape of your neck and pull harshly on it, the action letting you know that Hunter was most certainly capable of being rough with you, but was choosing to get your body used to his soft touch first. 

“And- fuck…ah fuck, the way your tight walls invite me in deeper when I play with your clit.” He lets go of your hair and slides his hand down your body, squeezing your hips and scratching along your thighs to leave his mark. As soon as you open your eyes and look at him, he begins to draw small circles around your clit, all the while picking up his pace just a little to get you closer to your climax. 

“I want it all baby,” he begs for you, roaming his eyes across your body to get his fill of you before he brings the two of you to the edge. You’re so sensitive from before, but something about having Hunter pay close attention to you makes you welcome whatever he has to offer you. 

“I- I’m close.” You manage to whisper to him as he continues to play with your body, and you realize the mistake you did in your claim when you hear him laugh and pause in his ministrations. 

“Already?” He doesn’t expect you to answer, but you whine his name and roll your hips around to get any form of friction. Hunter is distracted by the movement, and he resumes his attention to your clit, grunting with need when you reach down and scratch his stomach to urge him on. 

“D-don’t tease.”

“Never…never.” He responds immediately, thrusting into you with shallow pushes, already feeling the knot in his stomach slowly unwind the more he feels your heat pull him in. 

“I can feel your fucking heartbeat, can feel it singing for me the harder I fuck you.” Hunter cries out in a mixture of pain and pleasure, sitting up and moving the hand on his stomach down to your clit to get you to touch yourself.

“Please Hunter,” as soon as you start teasing your clit, Hunter grabs both of your hips and fucks into you with slow, languid movements, knowing that if he picks up the pace any further, he’d have you screaming so loud that the rest of the batch may actually hear you. 

“What do you want? Tell me.” There is a layer of sweat covering your body and making Hunter lose his mind. Your scent is more pronounced now that it has ever been, and he’s not sure if he’ll be able to interact with you normally now that he knew what you smelled like as you prayed for him to fuck you harder. 

“I want you to come with me.” Your request storms into Hunter’s mind, making him wish he could just tell you how he feels, how he’s felt for so long. 

“Kriff,” he throws his head back and looks at the ceiling, knowing that tonight would replay in his mind until you came to him and asked him to take you to bed again. 

“So close…so fucking close. Hunter, please…let me feel you come with me. Come inside me.” You grab one of his wrists in an attempt to remain grounded, and Hunter can’t help but whine at the desperation you were trusting him with. Never in his life did he think he’d have you so unabashedly wanton, but here you were, telling him that you wanted nothing more than to feel him come with you. 

“You’re killing me baby.” Hunter growls and looks down at where you’re joined, not caring for how crazed he must appear to you as his hair swings back and forth, and his face shines with sweat. 

“Oh-hhh f…fuck right there-” you scream into the darkening room, no longer able to hold back the pleasure from seizing you and showering you with a most beautiful distraction. 

“Mesh’la, I-” whatever he’s about to say is cut off by your lips as you pull him into you and mold your lips with his own. It’s a hungry kiss, and Hunter prays to the Force that you’re desperate for him out of necessity and not out of simple, physical attraction. He gives you what you want regardless, slipping his tongue into your mouth and surrendering himself to the pleasure just as your walls flutter around his cock and signal your orgasm. Feeling you tighten even harder around him is almost too much, and he doesn’t realize he’s thrusting so violently into you until you break the kiss and scream his name. He fucks into you without abandon, growling your name over and over again until he lets go and falls over the edge with you. You’re aware of how harshly you’re dragging your nails across his back, and before you can apologize for accidentally sending him into a sensory overload, Hunter is falling against you and sinking his teeth into your shoulders, shooting his cum so deep inside you that you feel the warmth of his seed spread across your body. Neither of you stop moving, wanting the other to reach absolute pleasure before you finally slow down. As you come down from your highs, you wonder if you should ask Hunter what he was going to say right before he came, but you get distracted by the way he begins to slowly move off of you. 

“No wait,” he’s about to move off of you when you throw your arms around his neck and keep him flush against you. You can almost feel his heartbeat sound against your chest, and you’re sure he can hear your own singing for him, but you pay no mind to it, instead focusing on the heat of his skin as it slides against yours. 

“Stay.” You ask once, hoping that he’d listen to you without wondering why you wanted to have him crush you with his weight. 

“Wrap your arms around me tightly.” He says after a while, and as soon as he knows you did as he said, he slips his hands beneath you and holds onto you as he rolls around. The action shifts his cock inside you, and both of you moan out in unison at the shock of oversensitivity that strikes across your spines. He is careful when he moves again, and once he’s comfortable on his back, he slides his hand up your body and grabs your neck. You pull back to look into his eyes, offering him a lazy smile before resting your cheek on his chest again. 

“Does this feel good?”

“I- I liked your weight on me…but yes, this is nice.” You decide not to lie to him, knowing that he may misunderstand your answer if you didn’t give him the whole truth. 

“Noted.” You can hear the smirk in his own voice and snuggle closer into him, not realizing that your playing with his hair until he nuzzles closer into your hands.

“Stay as long as you like, ad’ika.”

You make a mental note of asking him what all of those words mean later, but for now, you surrender to his embrace and the gentle touches he continued to grace you with. Neither of you say anything else as you relish the sweetness of the moment, and before long, you notice that Hunter’s heart was beating much faster than it should. You’ve been sitting without much movement for a long time, so you wonder briefly why his heart was threatening to leap out of his chest. The thought of being the reason behind such a reflex makes you think differently of Hunter, and you hope that your hunch is right or else you’ll end up making a fool out of yourself when you ask him to take you to bed again. 

Just thinking of doing this again with Hunter sends your spiraling and you unintentionally clench around him, but this time, you realize that he’s grown hard again. In fact, you could feel him pulsing inside of you, and you hope he doesn’t sense the shift in your body or else you’d have to explain to him why you were getting wet again. 

“Don’t forget our little agreement sweet girl. I told you I’d know if you were thinking of him.” Hunter breaks the silence suddenly, and you frown at the sentiment, not because it was far from the truth, but because Hunter thought you were thinking of Tech and not him. 

“I didn’t forget.” You pull away and pout at him, wanting him to see that you clearly weren’t lying to him. 

“Then what’s making your heart race so suddenly?” It’s the first time Hunter asks a question that he clearly doesn’t know the answer to, but when you look away from him and draw strange patterns over his chest, he knows instantly what it was you’re thinking about. 

“Interesting…” You roll your eyes at him, unable to hold back from giggling along with him when he cracks a smile and laughs at your obvious irritation. 

“H-Hunter,” you break the moment and gulp nervously when he meets your eyes and gives you his undivided attention. 

“Yes, mesh’la?” If there was ever a moment where Hunter was at his most peaceful, you think it may be this one. 

“Kiss me? Please?” You’re reluctant in your request, unsure of whether he’d draw the line here now that you weren’t actively trying to fuck each other. But as he’s done so many times in the past few hours, he surprises you with an answer that you’d later pinpoint as the first time you truly felt something deeper than attraction for him. 

“Never ask for what’s already yours, cyare.”

[the-bad-batch-baroness]

Dancing Lights

Wolf!Wolffe x Fem!Reader

Summary: During a mission on a frigid planet, you get lost in a blizzard and Wolffe becomes desperate to find you before you freeze to death. Once he does, he’s forced to reveal a secret part of himself in order to protect you from a territorial pack of wolves.

Pairing: Wolf!Wolffe x Fem!Reader

Characters: Wolffe, Plo Koon

Tags & Warnings: 18+, implied/referenced nudity with no descriptions, established relationship, hurt/comfort, light angst, suggestive themes, implied sexual content, violence, blood, injuries, reader doesn’t know she’s pregnant, protective!wolffe, snowed in, abandoned cabin, cuddling for warmth, Brother Bear/Balto type spiritual references, happy ending

Word Count: 12.7k

Author's Note: The terms "alpha" and "mate" are used in one part of the fic for a very specific purpose as a language marker (there are NO sexual, kink, or ABO implications). There’s also a distinctive speech pattern shift between Wolffe talking to the wolves and Wolffe talking to himself and the reader. This is intentional. The perspective shifts between the reader and Wolffe a lot, but the change is always separated by a paragraph break. As always, please enjoy 💚

@clonexreaderbingo Square: Smile

Wolffe frantically searches for you. One minute you’re walking behind him and the next minute you’re gone. He trudges through the piling snow, calling out your name, barely a whisper over the raging winds and whipping snow, but receives no response for his efforts. The battalion lost long-range communications soon after the blizzard started and you’re not answering on comms, so his only hope is to find you before the drifting snow claims you. He can’t lose you, not now.

Wolffe only dares to backtrack so far to look for you, or he might lose the battalion as its dark gray silhouettes slowly fade into the white tundra. Wolffe stares out into the nothingness and calls your name as loud as his voice will let him. Then he waits, hoping for a shred of your voice to make it back to him, but he hears nothing. Gritting his teeth, he turns on his heels and uses the backs of his men as wayfinders to trudge his way up to the front of the procession.

“General,” Wolffe shouts over the storm.

“Yes, commander?” Plo Koon asks as his snow covered parka blows wildly in the wind.

“We’ve lost one of the… men,” Wolffe says, pausing to consider whether he should name you as the lost soldier. He knows how Jedi feel about attachments, and he’s not in the mood for a lecture. “They appear to be lost in the storm.”

“Have you attempted to make contact?” Plo Koon asks.

“Yes, sir,” Wolffe answers. “Multiple times, sir, with no success.”

Plo Koon raises his hand to his face in thought. “That is a predicament.”

“Sir,” Wolffe begins in a serious tone, “with your permission, I want to go after them.”

“That would be ill-advised, commander,” Plo Koon answers. “The storm is getting worse and we must advance to the rendezvous point before we become buried in it ourselves.”

“But sir,” Wolffe argues. “We can’t afford to lose anymore men. Our numbers are dwindling as it is. We need to find them.”

Plo Koon crosses his arms and waits a moment to respond, reading Wolffe through the force like an open book. “Attachments are dangerous, commander. As lethal as this storm.”

Wolffe grimaces and shifts on his feet like a child getting caught in a lie. “I don’t believe in leaving men behind, sir.”

Plo Koon’s facial features soften and he places a gloved hand on Wolffe’s shoulder. “Neither do I, but you are needed here. Perhaps we can send a scout.”

The general is both right and wrong. Having their commander walk away in the middle of a stressful situation will reduce the battalion’s morale significantly. They have been marching to their next rendezvous point for days, and the blizzard is only making it more difficult. However, there is no way in the stars above that a mere scout will be able to find you in this storm. The scout is more likely to get himself lost. But Wolffe? He can find you, without a shred of doubt.

“With all due respect, sir,” Wolffe argues, clenching his fists together to hold his composure. “I am the most suited for this mission. You know this. I refuse to risk any more of my men dying in this storm and being buried unceremoniously under a pile of snow.”

Plo Koon considers Wolffe’s words and the conviction behind them, then sighs. “Very well.”

“Thank you, sir,” Wolffe says, finally releasing the breath he was holding in.

“However,” Plo Koon continues. “We cannot halt the convoy or render aid if you fail your mission. You will be on your own.”

“I understand,” Wolffe nods before turning to walk away.

“And Wolffe,” Plo Koon adds quickly. “Come back safely. Both of you.”

Wolffe doesn’t answer, but the sentiment shared between the two is unmistakable. He will bring you both back safely, or it’s the last thing he’ll do. Wolffe climbs up into the ATTE he’s been living in for the duration of this campaign and grabs his pack. He grabs everything he might need, including canteens, rations, medical supplies, an emergency blanket, and a spare set of blacks, as well as tossing out anything that he knows he won’t need. Traveling light is a must.

Before making his departure, Wolffe seeks out Sinker and temporarily puts him in charge of the battalion for the duration of his absence. Leaving the battalion in Sinker’s hands is an easy decision for Wolffe to make. The sergeant has been by his side since the beginning of the war, and has shown considerable aptitude and courage under distress. Wolffe knows that he is up for the challenge and has faith in him to lead the men to the rendezvous point mostly unscathed.

With everything in order, Wolffe hops down from the ATTE, his boots sinking deeply into the fresh fallen snow beneath. The wind is ripping and visibility is minimal, but Wolffe steels himself and sets out in the opposite direction of the battalion. After a few yards, he looks back. The gray silhouettes of the men and machines are gone. There’s no turning back now. He faces forward, picking his feet up and over the snow in a painstakingly slow process, but at least he’s moving.

As he trudges through the blizzard, snow begins sticking to his armor and weighing him down. He stops every so often to brush himself off, but it quickly becomes a useless effort. He grumbles to himself that of all the planets you had to get lost on, why did it have to be this one? He’s not angry, but he is scared; scared for you and for the little package you carry inside you unawares. Regardless of how he feels about the situation, he is determined to find you.

After a little while longer, he stops and stands still. The snow swirls around him, covering his visor and the gray markings on his armor. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply, calling on the senses lying dormant within him to come to the surface and aid him in his search. No human or comm system can find you in this storm, but maybe he can. Maybe the wolf inside him can. A spirit of a bygone era that speaks to his soul at night and shows him images of dancing lights.

Wolffe removes his helmet, a dangerous move in this type of weather. The temperature alone could kill him with frostbite, but he needs to feel the air around him. The cold nips at the tips of his ears and wind blows through his short hair without caution, leaving little bits of frost at the tips. With his eyes still closed, he breathes deeper, calming every nerve in his body until he can find your presence. If we can’t locate you like this, then he’ll be forced to make a drastic move.

Suddenly, it clicks like a strike of lightning. Whether it’s a feeling, a sense, or an intuition, he knows where he needs to go. He shakes the snow off his head and replaces his helmet, bristling as the cold snow melts down the back of his neck. But, he doesn’t have time to worry about his comfort at the moment. Every second he wastes thinking about himself is another second lost trying to find you. He turns and starts walking, letting his internal compass guide him to you.

As he continues forward, the storm lets up a little. He wonders if the change will be permanent or if it’s just a momentary lull. Again, he doesn’t have time to think about the logistics when you could already be dead and frozen, buried under a pile of snow. He shakes his head at the intrusive thoughts, then notices a ridgeline of trees in the distance. His stomach flips and his breath quickens. He knows you’re in there. You’re smart. Of course, you’d try to find shelter.

Wolffe moves as fast as he can through the piled snow towards the forest of trees. He senses that you are nearby. He stops at the edge of the wooded area and scans to the left and to the right, searching, listening, hoping, and praying that he’s not too late and that he can find you still alive. As he’s standing there, a shiver runs up his spine and he knows he needs to find you soon. If he can find you in this weather, so can they, and he’s not in the mood to deal with that.

He enters the tree line cautiously, then hears a sound in the distance that stills his heart. He doesn’t have much time to find you. Breaking out into his best sprint through the deep snow, he pulls on the trees and branches for leverage, making his movements faster as he frantically searches for you. You're close. He can feel it. He can smell it. His heart is beating out of his chest at the sound. They’re coming, a lot of them, and he doesn’t want to be here when they arrive.

Wolffe releases a heavy sigh of relief when he finally sees you, or rather, he sees your emergency shelter tied to a couple trees. You have the beacon on, but its light is barely visible against the white and gray landscape. The shelter is partially buried by the snow and Wolffe falls to his knees to dig you out. The wet snow seeps through his gloves, and the cold bites at his fingertips, but he doesn’t care. He continues digging until he finds the opening of the shelter.

Once he finds the entrance, he digs a bit deeper to make a little path for him to snake his body down and get into the shelter to get you out. When the path is wide enough for his body, he gets on his stomach and shimmies his way to where the zipper is. He pulls it open just enough to peek inside and no more. That’s when he sees you, curled up into a protective ball, covered in an emergency blanket, with a small heat lamp in the middle of the shelter to keep you warm.

“Cyare,” Wolffe calls gently as he opens the entrance wider and wiggles the upper half of his body into the tent. There’s barely enough room for him to crawl on his hands and knees.

You stir and make a small grunting noise.

Wolffe releases another sigh of relief, then rests his forehead against the cold canvas floor of the shelter. He thanks the stars you're still alive. Sadly, his brief moment of relief is quickly interrupted when he hears the sound in the distance again. They’re getting closer and he’s running out of time. He picks his head up and curses under his breath. He needs to get the both of you out of here now, or there will be trouble, and not the type he can easily deal with.

Wolffe stretches out his hand and tugs on your foot, trying to wake you from your sleep. “Cyare,” he calls a little louder.

You startle awake. The light from the tent-opening blinds you for a moment and the cold air nips at your exposed face. When your eyes finally adjust, you see Wolffe’s familiar bucket staring at you. “Wolffe?”

“It’s me,” he says.

“You found me!” you exclaim with excitement.

Wolffe wiggles the rest of his body into the small tent and pulls you into his arms the best he can, gently pressing you against his armored chest. He removes his bucket and rests his forehead against yours. “I found you.”

The sweet reunion is cut short when Wolffe hears the sound again, but this time, it’s not so distant. He jumps into action, releasing you and putting his bucket back on. “Pack up,” he orders. “We have to go. Now.”

You're shocked by the sudden urgency, but you follow Wolffe’s lead and begin rolling up the blanket. “What’s the hurry? The storm–”

“They’re coming,” Wolffe interrupts while stuffing all of the loose items into your pack.

“Who’s coming?” you ask in confusion. One minute you’re sleeping peacefully in your shelter as you wait out the storm and the next minute Wolffe is rushing you back out into the storm.

“We don’t have time for me to explain!” Wolffe snaps. He feels more afraid than he was before he found you.

You’re slightly offended by his harsh tone, but if you know anything about Wolffe, it’s that he doesn’t mess around, especially when it has to do with someone’s safety. You decide not to push the issue and hasten your pace to get things wrapped up. The good thing about emergency shelters is that they’re quick to assemble and even quicker to tear down. You both finish with the pack and you follow Wolffe outside of the shelter and break that down too.

Before you get in another word edgewise, Wolffe grabs your arm and pulls you along through the snow. His grip is tight and you struggle to keep up, feeling like your arm will rip out of its socket. “Wolffe, stop!” you shout while pulling on his arm with your free hand. “Let go!”

Wolffe ignores your struggle, believing that you’ll forgive him later for his roughness when you’re both safe. He doesn’t have the time to coddle you or explain why you need to run away as fast as you can. Your yelling doesn’t help his cause, but then again, they don’t need to hear you in order to find you. It’s already too late, Wolffe knows this, but he refuses to give up without at least trying to get you to safety. Even if he has to deal with it on his own, he needs you safe.

You continue to struggle against Wolffe’s grasp and fight him with each step as you demand an explanation from him. He doesn’t give you one. He doesn’t even turn around to look at you. He just keeps walking, not letting up on his brisk pace that has you panting in cold air that burns your lungs. Finally, in a last ditch effort, and to give your lungs and legs a break, you let your legs go slack and plop yourself down into the snow, jerking on Wolffe’s arm on the way down.

Wolffe stops and grunts in frustration. “We don’t have time for this!”

“Wolffe!” you yell through a panting breath while trying to get him to listen to you. “I can’t keep up. My legs. My lungs. It hurts.”

Wolffe lets go of your arm and paces in a circle as he thinks. “I need you to get up.”

“I told you, I can’t!” you argue. 

Wolffe kneels down on the snow in front of you and removes his bucket. He grabs both of your cheeks and forces you to look into his eyes. “I need you to get up. Now.”

His gloves feel cold on your skin and for a moment you see something flash across his eyes, something desperate that you’ve never seen in him before. But before you get to respond, you hear it. The sound of howling in the distance. You watch as Wolffe tilts his head to the side to peek around you and in an instant, you finally understand. How he heard them before you did, you may never know, but that sound is what Wolffe has been afraid of, the sound of wolves.

You find new strength in your fear and get to your feet, ready to start running again, but Wolffe doesn’t move with you. You turn to see him still kneeling in the snow, staring out through the trees at nothing. Your confusion turns into worry which then turns into a deeper fear. You step behind him and place your hand on his shoulder for reassurance. He places his hand atop yours and stands to his feet. He knows something you don’t, but you're too afraid to ask him what it is.

“It’s too late,” he says in a hushed tone.

“Too late?” you ask as your voice quivers. “Too late for what?”

Wolffe turns around and pulls you tight against him, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in the crook of your neck. His cold plastoid armor digs into your clothing. He can hear the fear in your voice and it breaks his heart. This is exactly what he was afraid of, what he didn’t want to happen. The scenario he’s played over and over in his mind since he started out on this mission, the one he so desperately wanted to avoid at all costs, is now inescapable.

Wolffe drags his lips up to your ear and whispers. “Do you trust me?”

You shiver as his hot breath ghosts against the cold shell of your ear. “Always,” you answer.

Wolffe pulls away and plants two firm hands on both of your shoulders. “I need you to listen to me and do everything I say. Understand?”

You look into his eyes and nod your head. “I understand.”

“Don’t move,” Wolffe orders. He shakes your shoulders, like he’s trying to ingrain it in your body. “Don’t move a single inch, no matter what happens.”

You're confused by the instructions, but you trust that Wolffe knows what he’s doing, so you go along with it. “I won’t move. I promise.”

Wolffe nods his head and gives you a small half-smile. “Good girl.”

You watch him carefully, studying his body language, the way he worries his lip and shifts his weight from leg to leg. You can’t help but notice the growing anxiety, so you bring your hand up to cup the side of his face to reassure him. You smooth your hand over his reddened cheek, your fabric glove catching on the rough bristles of the stubble growing in. Wolffe places his hand over yours and leans into the caress, then pulls it away from his face to kiss your palm.

“You know I love you, right?” Wolffe whispers against your hand.

You smile. “I know.”

Wolffe relishes in the simple and soft moment he’s allowed to have with you. He’s not sure what will happen, but he knows that at least in this moment, he has you. He found you, which is what he set out to do. Mission accomplished. But, the promise he made to the general before he left the battalion reverberates in his mind. He swore he would bring you both back safely, and that’s what he still intends to do, no matter the cost.

An eerie silence washes over the area. Every sound of nature is muted by the snow and what’s left in its wake is a hollow peace. However, that silence is pierced by howls and soft steps in the snow. Wolffe closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, then turns to face the oncoming enemy. He keeps one hand on you for reassurance, and the other in front of him for his own defense, not that it will do him any good. His blasters won’t help him here either, not against a full pack.

The wolves come into view and surround you and Wolffe in a circle. Their fur coats are light gray and white, perfect camouflage for this place they call home. If it weren’t for their golden eyes and black noses, you wouldn’t even be able to see them. Your breath hitches in your throat at their menacing presence. The wolves are large. Larger than you ever imagined from the books you’ve read, with the tips of their ears easily coming up to your hips. You swallow back your fear.

The pack circles around you and Wolffe, then comes to a stop. Wolffe holds his ground as he waits for their next move, but he doesn’t have to wait long. A large, older looking pure white wolf steps out from the circle. The alpha of the pack, Wolffe assumes. He knows what he needs to do, but even in the face of all of these wolves, he’s reluctant. Without an explanation, he’s not sure how you will react to what he’s about to do, but at this point he doesn’t have a choice.

To your surprise, Wolffe starts shucking off his armor, tossing it about haphazardly until he’s only left in his black bodysuit. You watch him with bewilderment, trying to understand why he’d take his armor off during a situation like this. He’ll freeze to death with so little coverage and be vulnerable to attack. You remember his words about not moving, but you want to reach out and touch him. He must be able to read your thoughts because he turns his head to look at you.

“Remember what I said?” Wolffe asks.

“No moving,” you answer. “But Wolffe–”

Wolffe puts a finger to your lips. “Trust me.”

You nod your head and kiss his finger, earning you a sly grin.

Wolffe turns to face the white wolf and you can’t believe what you’re seeing. Bright yellow lights emanate from Wolffe’s fingertips, his toes, his eyes, and his mouth. Wind blows by your head and swirls around him, obscuring everything but his silhouette. You watch as his body morphs into a smaller form and your breath is stolen in awe. He doesn’t make a sound, even as his body contorts into unfamiliar angles. The wind and light disappear and what’s left behind is a wolf.

“Wolffe?” you ask hesitantly, body shaking from what you just witnessed.

Wolffe cranes his neck around and looks back at you with a single, piercing, golden eye, the other eye is still cybernetic and the scar over it has morphed to fit his new facial figure.

“You’re a… wolf,” you stutter in shock.

You’re stunned. When Wolffe asked you to trust him, you weren’t expecting this. You stare at his new form, a man’s body traded in for dark gray fur across his face and ears that travels down his back, a lighter cream color across his belly and legs, and a black stripe down the middle of his back that stretches to the tip of his fluffy tail. He’s a wolf, there’s no mistake about it. You can’t help but admire his beauty, and also feel a level of terror at the teeth hidden in his mouth.

Quite the show, the Alpha says.

Wolffe turns his head back to look at the Alpha. Not great. Rusty.

The Alpha considers Wolffe for a moment, unsure of what to make of him. Your wolf-speak is less than to be desired.

Wolffe snorts. Been a time.

The Alpha is not impressed with Wolffe and circles around you both, sizing up the situation.

As the Alpha moves around you, you notice that it’s much larger than Wolffe, but it also seems much older. You’re not sure why, but that’s the impression you get. You can see multiple scars across his body, each one a proud win against another wolf, you suppose, just as the clones have scars from their battles. To you, everything is quiet. You can’t hear them communicating, but you watch their body language and hear their growls, which still doesn’t mean much to you.

Wolffe plants his paws firmly into the snow, ears pinned, and snarls. Back!

Easy, pup, the Alpha says as he makes a full circle back to where he started. I’m only observing.

Not pup, Wolffe growls.

No? the Alpha questions. Then what are you?

Alpha, Wolffe answers. Own pack.

The Alpha looks at Wolffe with intrigue. Oh? I would have never guessed. You’re rather small for an alpha.

Wolffe barks at the insult, baring his fangs in an intimidating display.

It works, well, at least on you it does. You flinch at the sudden loud noise.

The Alpha disregards it and looks past Wolffe to you. What is that? A hunting trophy?

Wolffe’s fur bristles at the insinuation and rumbles out a low protective growl. Mate.

Odd choice… the Alpha says as he continues to stare at you with mild interest. He decides to ignore you for the time being. Tell me, alpha, what are the laws that govern?

Wolffe cringes at the question. He knows the answer, it’s written somewhere in the DNA that entangles with his own, but his wolf-speak is poor and he can’t put the words together.

Has your tongue gone still? the Alpha goads. Trespassing in another pack’s territory is an offense punishable by death.

Wolffe retakes his defensive stance and bares his fangs.

The Alpha pauses for a moment before responding. However, I am feeling generous today, young alpha.

Wolffe’s ears twitch.

You have two choices, the Alpha offers. Join our pack at a lower rank and we’ll let your mate go free or give us your mate as tribute and you may go free. The choice is yours.

Wolffe snorts at the two bleak choices and decides to make his own third option. He raises his head and howls loudly towards the sky.

The sound is deafening and you cover your ears to try and muffle it. You’re not sure what they’re doing now, but the tension and uncertainty is making your skin crawl. The golden eyes that stare at you from around the forest make you feel small and afraid. You wish to be able to speak to Wolffe, to get any shred of reassurance that everything will be okay, but he hasn’t said a word to you. Your best guess is that he can’t talk to you, which is the only thing that makes sense right now.

Wolffe finishes his howl and waits for the response.

You want to fight? the Alpha asks. A bold move for one so young and stupid.

Not dumb, Wolffe replies. Protect mine.

The Alpha snorts, then stares into Wolffe’s eyes as he searches his soul. You have the spirit of ages within you, young alpha. My old eyes can still see. The Alpha pauses. I will respect your wishes. If you win, you and your mate will earn safe passage through our land, but if I win, you will join our pack and your mate will perish.

Wolffe takes a deep breath. He has too much to lose not to stay focused. Seal it. Sing the song.

The Alpha lifts his muzzle towards the sky and howls. Wolffe then joins in the howling, letting their wolf-songs mingle and intertwine in the sky like a binding contract.

Promise, Wolffe says. Mate not hurt.

You have my word, the Alpha says. Your mate will not be touched during our fight.

Wolffe nods and takes a fighting stance. The Alpha does the same.

You watch the two wolves with great anticipation as your legs tremble beneath you. You’re still unsure about what’s going on, but whatever it is, you trust Wolffe. At least, that’s what you keep telling yourself. That’s what he told you to do and that’s what you have to hold on to. You must have faith and believe that Wolffe will work things out and you can both go home soon. But waiting in silence, without knowing, is slowly killing your nerves. You want to run and escape.

Your thoughts are abruptly interrupted when Wolffe and the Alpha lunge towards each other, fangs bared. A gasp escapes your throat and you have to tell your trembling legs not to move, just like Wolffe told you. The two wolves collide, both going for each other’s necks. You watch in horror as tufts of gray and white fur are flung about into the air. The sounds of growling and snarling fill your ears as they tumble in the snow, one on top of the other and then vice versa.

The Alpha pins Wolffe to the ground and clamps his jaw around Wolffe’s shoulder, causing him to cry out in pain.

“Wolffe!” you yell and take an automatic step towards him, forgetting Wolffe’s order not to move.

A wolf on the sidelines catches your movement and lunges towards you. You scream and fall back onto the ground. Your cry alerts Wolffe and he snaps his head up. With strength unknown to him he kicks the Alpha off of him and leaves his fight to get to your side. He snarls at the wolf and nips at his legs, causing it to retreat back to the circle. Wolffe whips around and looks into your frightened eyes. He brings his nose to your face and gives your cheek a small, gentle lick.

As sweet as the gesture may seem to Wolffe, you wish you could feel anything other than fear.  There’s blood on Wolffe’s muzzle and blood on his fur, reminding you of what he is doing.

Wolffe turns his attention back to the Alpha and barks. Liar!

The immature actions of a young pup, the Alpha says. I assure you, he will be punished severely. The Alpha glares toward the younger wolf in his ranks and bares his fangs with a low growl. The younger wolf cowers back with his ears flattened and his tail between his legs. Shall we continue?

Wolffe agrees and the fight recommences as they both tumble through the snow once again. Nipping and biting at each other’s necks, legs, bellies, and backs. Wolffe gets in a few bites, but the Alpha is much bigger and stronger, yielding better results with his bites, which leaves Wolffe’s beautiful gray fur coat marred with blood. He pauses to catch his breath and looks back at you, his strength and reason to fight. Mustering what he can, Wolffe forces himself to continue.

The yelp Wolffe makes when the Alpha sinks his fangs into his neck is unbearable. All you can do is watch and pray to the Maker that Wolffe survives this. You don’t know what started the fight, you don’t know the rules, and you don’t know what will happen to you if Wolffe dies. You shake your head at the macabre thought and focus on Wolffe surviving. You wish you could help him. You wish you could do more than watch as he lies helpless and whimpering in the snow.

Wolffe is out of breath and running out of strength. For a wolf so young, his stamina isn’t at peak performance, but for someone who rarely uses his wolf form, it’s better than he thought it would be. He lays in the snow, chest heaving as he tries to breathe. The bites sting him like fire and slow him down. He’s not sure how much longer he’ll be able to last. He knew he didn’t stand a chance against a seasoned alpha. He may be the leader of the ‘Wolfpack’, but he’s no alpha.

You want to cry. You don’t know how long the fight has been going on, but you’re getting sick of it. You know you’re not supposed to move, but you can still speak. They can’t stop you from cheering him on. Whether he understands your words or not is a gamble you’re willing to take, because you can’t lose him like this. “Wolffe!” you yell. “Wolffe, get up!”

Through his pained haze, Wolffe can hear your voice calling out to him. The sweet sound of his mesh’la, warped by the fear caught in the back of your throat. He knows you’re trying to be strong for him and he finds it endearing. The need to protect you and to protect his unborn child, overrides his pain. He shifts his legs in the snow, trying to get back up, using your voice as a crutch to stand. He rocks himself onto his stomach and hoists himself up onto his shaky legs.

Will protect, Wolffe chokes out between pants as blood drips from his muzzle. Won’t lose. My mate. My pup.

The Alpha watches Wolffe carefully. His own white coat has been stained by blood. Some of it is his but most of it is from Wolffe. He finds the young alpha compelling. His protectiveness over his mate is rivaled by that of many an alpha and he admires him for his strong will. The Alpha can sense it strongly now, the spirit that resides in Wolffe. An ancient spirit from many generations before him. The one that chases the moon at night and howls with his brethren in chorus song.

The Alpha approaches Wolffe and bows. I concede to you, young alpha.

Wolffe heaves in a labored breath, his shaking legs about to buckle underneath him. He’s not sure if this is a trick, but according to the laws that govern, this means he wins.

The Alpha steps closer and Wolffe takes a cautious step back.

Your spirit, the Alpha begins to explain, it’s strong and powerful; ancient as the dancing lights that adorn the heavens. Don’t lose it.

Wolffe stares into the golden eyes of the Alpha and sees his truth. He bows to the Alpha, turns, and limps his way over to you.

You and your mate will have safe passage through our land, the Alpha exclaims to Wolffe and his own pack.

Wolffe turns back to look at the Alpha. Thank you.

And with that, the pack of wolves disappear into the trees as silently as they came. You stare with wide-eyes, then drop to the ground, your legs refusing to bear the load of your body any longer. You don’t know if you should cry, scream, or laugh. Regardless, you and Wolffe are safe, at least you hope you're safe. You startle for a moment when you feel Wolffe’s nose touch you. You look into his tired eyes, trying to read them as best as you can, but you understand nothing.

“Can you turn back?” you ask. “To a human?”

Too weak, he answers, but his voice won’t reach your ears.

You sigh when you get no response. With no way to communicate with Wolffe, you’re not sure what to do. You don’t know where you are and with no comms to contact the battalion, you’re on your own. You stretch out your hand to pet Wolffe’s head, but you recoil it when you get too close, scared he might not be who you think he is. Wolffe sees your hesitation and lifts his head into the palm of your hand, nuzzling it for comfort. You smile and scratch behind his ears.

Overcome with the emotion you are holding in, you throw your arms around Wolffe’s neck and bury your face in his soft fur. “You saved us. Thank you.”

Wolffe wants to melt into your embrace, but a snowflake landing on his nose reminds him of the other situation. Wolffe pulls out of your arms and starts pushing at his armor with his nose, piling it together. You tilt your head at his actions, but when you see the snow start to fall again, you get the idea. You stack Wolffe’s armor neatly and wrap a cord around it so you can tie it to your pack. Wolffe grabs his bag between his teeth and you grab yours, slinging it onto your back.

Wolffe starts limping forward and you walk closely behind him, following his lead through the forest. If anyone can get you home, it’s Wolffe. You soon reach the end of the forest and stare out into the wide advance of nothingness. The snow falls harder and the wind begins to howl. You shiver as the cold air breaches your layers of clothing. Wolffe turns around and stands behind you. He noses at his bucket tied to your pack and you wonder what he wants.

You put your pack down and carefully remove his bucket from the neatly tied package of armor, then hand it to Wolffe, unsure of what he could possibly want with it in that form. It’s not as if it will fit on his head.

If Wolffe could roll his eyes, he would, but instead he pushes his nose against the bucket so it goes back towards you.

You sigh and shake your head, still unsure of what he wants you to do with it.

Put it on! Wolffe growls as he drops his pack from his mouth.

His sudden outburst startles you. “I don’t know what you want me to do!” you snap at him.

Wolffe tries to calm himself. The language barrier is grating on him, so he takes the bucket in his mouth and places his front paws on your knees to gain some height, then haphazardly drops the bucket on top of your head. It sits crooked and looks funny from Wolffe’s vantage point, but it should get the point across.

“Oh,” you realize. “You want me to wear it.”

Wolffe nuzzles his nose against your hand as an affirmation.

You situate his bucket on your head, but it’s too big on you and bobbles around. You think you look ridiculous, but if this is what Wolffe wants then this is what you’re going to do. It’s probably to keep your face from freezing off in the cold, but it could have other uses as well and you just don’t know it.

“How do you see out of this thing?” you ask as you try to walk forward, but the HUD throws you off balance.

Wolffe can’t smile or laugh, but he snorts through his nostrils at your comment. He sees just fine out of it, but then again, it is made for him.

You watch Wolffe’s reaction to your comment and wonder. “Can you understand me?” you ask.

Wolffe nuzzles his nose against your hand again to answer your question.

“We can work with that,” you think out loud. “We need some way to communicate... How about for yes or no questions, touch your nose to my hand for yes and growl for no?”

Wolffe touches his nose to your hand in agreement.

“Well, that was easy,” you breathe.

Actually, none of this is easy. You're several klicks away from your battalion, out in the middle of a snowstorm with a small amount of supplies, and an injured Wolffe who seems to be stuck in a wolf’s body. At least, that’s what you gather from the fact that he is still a wolf and not a human. You don’t have any way to confirm that theory, but you can’t imagine that he would choose to stay a wolf if he had a choice. The words you speak in your mind surprise yourself and you sigh.

Wolffe can smell the storm coming and he nudges your back to push you forward, causing you to stumble.

“Hey!” you turn around and exclaim. “Just because you’re a wolf doesn’t mean you can’t have manners!”

Wolffe snorts, picks his pack back up, and limps past you.

You huff, then hoist your pack onto your back and follow after him.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been walking, but your legs are tired and your body is freezing. The blizzard began to rage not long after you left the forest, and you're both out in the thick of it without much protection. The wind whips around you and threatens to knock you over as it bites your skin through your clothing. Wolffe was smart with making you wear the helmet. There’s no way you would’ve been able to see without it and your ears would have fallen off already.

You have one hand holding the strap of your bag and the other holding onto Wolffe’s tail as he guides you forward through the storm. You don’t know where he’s leading you, but you trust him that it’s towards shelter. Well, that’s what you're hoping for anyway. He, at least, has fur and is made for this type of weather, but, you don’t have a fur coat to keep you warm and your two heavy legs sink further into the deep snow while his four lighter legs sit closer to the surface.

It doesn’t take much longer for you to start staggering, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Wolffe when his tail gets yanked. It hurts, but it’s better than losing you in the storm, so he bears it without complaint. It’s when you let go of his tail that he gets worried. He turns around and looks back to see you laying still in the snow. Panic washes over him and he limps back over to you. He knows that if you stay like this, you’ll get buried in the snow and he can’t let that happen.

Wolffe drops his pack and digs with his paws to get your head out of the snow. He pushes you with his nose to try and get you back up, but you don’t budge. He knows you’re still alive, he can hear your heartbeat, but you still won’t move. He digs around each side of your body as the snow continues to bury your limbs. He grabs onto your outer jacket with his teeth and pulls, but with the weight of the snow you're too heavy for him. He steps back to reassess the situation.

Wolffe paces beside you as he tries to think, then howls in frustration towards the gray sky. Get up, cyare, Wolffe pleads. Please, get up.

He noses at your face, but gets no reaction.

We’re so close, Wolffe says, trying to encourage you to keep moving, like you did for him during the fight, but his voice falls on deaf ears. You have to get up! That’s an order!

He still gets no response. Not even a stir from you.

Don’t make me do this, cyare, Wolffe growls.

He only has one option left and it makes him sick to his stomach. It’s the last thing he wants to do, and he hopes you will forgive him when this is all over, but he’ll do anything to keep you safe. To keep you both safe. He digs out your left arm that has been re-buried by the heavy falling snow and bites down hard.

You jerk at the searing pain in your arm.

The adrenaline in your body starts pumping and you're quickly awoken. You figure you must have fallen asleep since you’re laying in the snow. You look up through the HUD with half-lidded eyes and see Wolffe crouching in front of you, your arm in his mouth. He’s biting you. He’s eating you. You stare at your arm as blood begins to soak through your coat sleeve. You’re scared. Not of the storm, but of Wolffe. He has your arm in his mouth and you're afraid he’ll rip it off.

“Get off me!” you yell hoarsely, scrambling to get up out of the snow and away from him. “I’m not your dinner!”

Wolffe drops your arm before you hurt yourself. I’m sorry.

You stare at him and then your bloody arm in shock and disbelief. “You bit me!”

Regret washes over him at your reaction. I’m so sorry.

“Why?” you ask. You feel heartbroken and confused as to why Wolffe would bite you. Why he would intentionally hurt you. You don’t understand. All of those sweet promises he’s whispered in your ear during moments of passion slip away on the raging winds of the blizzard. He told you he’d never hurt you, but he did. He hurt you and you’re bleeding. “Why would you do that?”

Wolffe drops his tail between his legs and lays himself flat against the snow to seem less intimidating. He wishes he could explain, but he can’t. He never meant for you to misconstrued his intentions so far as to think he would attack you on purpose, or eat you. It’s the worst-case scenario, but he’d rather have you alive and hate him than have you dead and love him. You both need to keep moving, but he lets you settle down before making any more movements.

You lie in the snow as you let the adrenaline run its course. The snow starts to pile around you and in a moment of clarity, you understand why he bit you. If he didn’t wake you, then you would have been buried in the snow and froze to death. It doesn’t make the wound hurt any less, and you’ll never forget what it looked like to have your arm bleeding in his mouth, but you can push past your anger for the moment and move on. You can talk about it later when you’re both safe.

You make an attempt to push yourself up and out of the snow, but struggle. Wolffe gets up and places his muzzle under your other arm, trying to help lift you so you can stand. You get the picture and use him to pull yourself out of the snow. Once you’re up, you lean against Wolffe to help regain your balance before trekking on. Moving is a chore for both of you now. Between his wounds and limp and your frozen and tired body, it’s a miracle you’ve even gotten this far.

When you’re ready to get moving, you grab onto Wolffe’s tail. He picks up his pack, and once again guides you through the blizzard to shelter. It’s not much further before you see a dark shadow appear through the blinding snow. As you get closer, you see the outline of a cabin and breathe a sigh of relief. You knew Wolffe would find shelter, and you’re so thankful that he’s with you. If it weren’t for him, you’d still be back in the woods, waiting to be devoured by wolves.

You approach the cabin and Wolffe scratches at the wooden door, whining for you to open it. You pull the latch and Wolffe drops his pack and runs in before you to be sure it’s safe. The last thing you need is more danger or obnoxious critters. The cabin is dark and cold, but solid, and not too drafty. It will do just fine to wait out the rest of the blizzard. Wolffe circles back from his perimeter search and presses his nose into your hand to let you know it’s safe for you to enter.

With Wolffe’s nose-touch of approval, you pull the door shut against the merciless winds and latch it closed. You drop your pack down, pull out some glow sticks, and the small heat lamp you had in your tent. You crack the glow sticks and place them around the outer areas of the cabin to get some much needed light, then place the small heater in the middle of the room. It won’t throw enough heat for the entire cabin, but it will take the chill out of your bones for the time being.

Wolffe can see without the glow sticks, but he knows you can’t. As you settle in, he does a more thorough reconnaissance and assessment of your situation. There’s a fireplace, some chopped wood, an old table, some broken cabinets with no food in them, and a worn out rug in the middle of the floor. It’s not much, but it’s enough. More than enough, actually. Wolffe turns when he hears you strike a match to light the fireplace. The small fire casts a warm orange glow in the room.

Finally able to relax, you take Wolffe’s bucket off and place it on the table alongside his armor. You pull your coat and gloves off, and blow into your hands to warm them up. It will take a little for the fire to heat the entire cabin. You look over at Wolffe and see the blood dripping from his shoulder. You’re not sure how he’s still standing, but you need to get that wound taken care of before it becomes infected. You grab the medpack from your pack and walk over to the fire.

“Come here,” you call as you sit crisscross on the rug and pat the area next to you.

Wolffe, absolutely exhausted, slowly limps over and lies down on the carpet beside you. He places his muzzle on your left leg and you run a hand across his head. He closes his eyes. You gently move your hand down to touch the area where his shoulder is bleeding and he whines. You frown, then grab the bacta and start applying it. Wolffe kicks out his hind leg at the pain, but he stays still for you. Finally, you wrap the wound in bandages, then take care of the other bites.

Once you’re done with Wolffe’s wounds, you move onto your own. You pull the sleeve up on your left arm, and wince as the movement opens the scabs that are stuck to the fabric.

Wolffe picks his head up off your leg when he hears your pain. He looks for the source and sees the puncture marks of his teeth on your arm. His stomach drops. He gave you that wound. It’s his fault that you’re bleeding and he wishes he could fix it. If only he had the strength to change back, he could bandage your wound, instead of forcing you to do it yourself. In an effort to help, he leans forward and licks at your wound, but you recoil and reflexively whack his nose.

“Ow!” you exclaim. “That hurts!”

Wolffe whines and lowers his head to rest on the rug between his front legs. He didn’t mean to hurt you even more. He just wanted to help. I’m sorry, cyare.

You look at how sad he is and sigh. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I know you didn’t mean it.”

Wolffe remains still, but lifts his eyes to look up at you.

You meet his gaze and offer him a sad smile. You can never stay mad at Wolffe for long, even if he did bite you. Usually you like it when he bites you, but not when his teeth are as sharp as a vibro-blade. Besides, there’s no use in staying angry at him, not when he’s already saved your life three times in one day. You pat his head and give him a small scratch behind his ear, which seems to perk him up a little. “Good boy.”

Getting back to the task at hand, you apply the bacta to your wound and wrap it in a bandage. It’s not the best job you’ve ever done, but you did it with one hand, so you feel somewhat proud of yourself. Now that the wounds have been taken care of, you move onto food and water. You get up from the floor and rifle through Wolffe’s pack. You grab the canteens and rations from it, since you used your supply back in the forest, and sit back down next to Wolffe.

You reach out to hand one of the canteens to Wolffe, then stop when you remember he can’t drink out of it like a person. You sigh, stand back up, and walk over to the kitchen area past the old wooden table. There’s no food in the cabinets, but there has to be a bowl you can use, and it doesn’t take long for you to find one. You wipe it out with your shirt and bring it back to where you were sitting, then place it in front of Wolffe’s nose and pour the canteen of water into it.

Wolffe continues to lie on the floor, but picks his head up to lap at the water in the bowl. He didn’t realize how thirsty he was until the first droplets hit his tongue and he eagerly drinks the rest of the bowl, being careful not to spill any of the precious resource. When you try to refill the bowl with more water, Wolffe stops you. He doesn’t need it as much as you do, and if push comes to shove, it’s easier for him to go find water in his wolf form, than it is for you as a human.

Once you’ve had your fill of water, you open up the ration pack and toss one of the bars to Wolffe. He catches it mid-flight in his mouth and eats the entire bar in one bite. You’re a little surprised, but you’re not sure what you were expecting, considering the size of his mouth and what wolves actually eat for sustenance. You chuckle. “Well, those aren’t going to last long.”

When you try to give Wolffe another ration bar, he does the same thing he did with the canteen of water and declines it. He intentionally doesn’t catch it, and the second bar comically bounces off of his head and onto the ground. Wolffe gently picks the ration bar up in his mouth and drops it in your lap for you to eat. He can survive on the one ration bar for a while. It’s more important to him that you get your proper nutrients to help keep you and the little one healthy and safe.

You pick up the ration bar and cringe in disgust that it has some of his wolf-saliva on it. But, then again, it can’t be the worst bodily fluid of Wolffe’s you’ve ever put in your mouth, so you eat it without complaint and try not to think about it too much.

After you finish the ration bar, you and Wolffe sit in silence for a while and just listen to the crackling fire in front of you and the howling blizzard outside. It’s peaceful, in a sort of sense, and almost comforting. You look over at Wolffe and wonder if he’s fallen asleep. He has his front paws crossed with his head resting on top of them and his eyes are closed. You look back over at the fire and yawn, thinking it’s best for you to get some sleep as well. You’re exhausted.

You get up off the floor, walk over to the table, grab the blanket from your pack, and sit back down next to Wolffe. You look over at him and his eyes are open and staring at you. You shake your head at his alertness. Not much gets past him. You stretch your arms out over your head, then lay the blanket on your body. You rest your head on the hard floor, which quickly becomes uncomfortable, and you know you’ll wake up with a crick in your neck if you try to sleep like this.

You sit up and look at Wolffe, who is still watching you. “Can I…” you fidget with the edge of the blanket. “Can I lay on you?”

Wolffe picks his head up and beats his tail against the wooden floor.

You giggle at his response. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Wolffe changes his position and lies out flat on his side with his legs outstretched towards the fire. He doesn’t care what position he sleeps in, because his fur works as a buffer against even the hardest of surfaces. He’ll gladly be your pillow and he’s happy to oblige you. You're still his cyare, even when he’s in his wolf form. The wolf form changes nothing about how he feels about you or his devotion and duty to protect you. He may be in a wolf’s body, but his heart is his own.

You situate yourself between Wolffe’s legs and lay your head on his side, being careful not to disturb any of the bandages. His body is warm and his fur is soft. You can feel him breathing steadily as his chest rises and falls, and the sound of his heartbeat is so similar to his human form that when you close your eyes, you can imagine it’s him you’re laying against. You nuzzle your cheek against Wolffe’s soft fur and let yourself drift off to sleep, safe by his side.

When you wake up, you feel a slight chill and notice the fire has died down. You need to get up to put more logs on it to stay warm, but you don’t want to move. You lazily rub your face against Wolffe, but it doesn’t feel right. There’s no fur. You pick your head up and look at Wolffe, but he’s no longer a wolf, he’s human. He’s also completely naked. Realizing that he’s going to freeze to death being exposed like that, you lay your blanket on top of him and get up to rekindle the fire.

You're glad he’s back to normal. You weren’t sure how long he was going to be a wolf, or if he was ever going to change back into the man you know, but you feel relieved now. You carefully lift the blanket to check the bandages, and you can see his injuries better now without the fur, and they look good. Nothing is infected, but the bandage on his shoulder needs to be changed. You run your fingers through his hair, then warm yourself by the fire and wait for him to wake up.

It’s not much longer before Wolffe begins to stir and shift uncomfortably on the hard wooden floor. You smile as you hear the familiar grunt he makes when he wakes up from a good night’s sleep and you bask in the sound of the deep voice you love so much. You turn from the fire to look at him, and you see him try to push himself up from the floor and onto all fours. You scoot across the rug and gently push him back down before he reopens the wound on his shoulder.

“Cyare,” Wolffe says, his voice rough with sleep. He tries to touch his nose to you, but he misses by several inches, not realizing that he’s back to his human form.

“It’s me,” you giggle.

“You can understand me?” Wolffe asks in confusion.

“You’re you again,” you explain as you grab his hand and touch it to his face. “See? No fur.”

Wolffe grunts like he has a hangover and places a hand against his throbbing head. “Must have changed back in my sleep.”

“Yeah, about that…” you say, trying to segue into the obvious.

Wolffe slowly sits up, the blanket falling down around his waist. “It’s a long story.”

“We’ve got time,” you counter while sitting down next to him. “The blizzard hasn’t let up.”

Wolffe sighs. He knew this conversation was coming and he thought of several ways to explain it to you without it sounding like some bizarre folktale, but he’d rather not. “You won’t believe me.”

“Try me,” you say with folded arms.

A shiver runs up Wolffe’s spine and he realizes he’s naked. “Can I have my blacks first?”

“Oh, yes, of course,” you say before getting up and grabbing the spare set of blacks Wolffe put in his pack, then returning to hand them to him. “Sorry about that.”

Wolffe chuckles and grabs his blacks from your hands. “Nothing to be sorry about.”

Wolffe quickly puts his blacks on and melts into the comfort of the tight bodysuit against his bare skin. He sits back down next to you and immediately pulls you into his lap, your back against his chest, and wraps his arms around your stomach while burrowing his face in your neck. He peppers your neck with soft kisses, making you smile. His kisses become longer, more focused, and he trails them from your neck down to your shoulder as his hands creep under your shirt.

“Wolffe,” you say knowingly.

“Hm?” he mumbles into your neck.

“You’re stalling,” you say as you remove his hands from under your shirt.

Wolffe grunts at your perceptiveness. He really thought he could make you forget by working you up, but he was dead wrong. You want to know, and he knows you well enough that you won’t let it go until you have an answer. With a heavy sigh, he stops his attack of kisses and shuffles you around in his lap so you’re facing him. “Are you sure you want to know?”

“Yes,” you answer. “Tell me everything.”

Wolffe sighs and begins his recount of the events.

“It was near the beginning of the war. My first campaign after losing my battalion and my eye. I was at my lowest point back then.”

Your shoulders slump and eyes soften at his words.

“During the campaign I got separated from the battalion, on a world similar to this one, and I found myself cold and alone on the side of a snowy mountain, staring up at the night sky and waiting to die. Thought I was going to.”

You lean your head on his shoulder as you continue to listen.

“Then I saw these green and blue lights appear out of nowhere and dance across the black sky, right over my head. They were beautiful. As I stared up at the lights, I saw this white figure jumping down from them like it was a staircase or something. As it got closer, it kinda looked like a wolf, but it was see-through and wispy-like. I’d never seen something like that before.”

You chuckle at Wolffe’s descriptions.

“You find it funny, but I thought I was dying and seeing things. So, the wispy-wolf-looking thing came over to me, and I mean it stood right next to me, and started talking to me. It said I had a ‘strong heart’ and a ‘wise mind’, or something like that, and then it asked me if I wanted to live. I actually thought about saying no, but I ended up saying yes for whatever reason.”

You grab onto Wolffe tightly, and he rubs your back to soothe you.

“Then it spoke again and said it was an ancient wolf-spirit that travels across the night sky, waiting for someone worthy who can tether it back to the ground, or something like that. It didn’t make much sense to me, but I agreed. It was better than dying on that mountainside. Then that thing walked right inside of me and I nearly pissed myself.”

You snort.

“That was my first transformation into an actual wolf. Once I was in the wolf form, I could smell and see and sense all kinds of things. That’s how I found my way back to the battalion. The general was the only one who knew it was me, through the force I guess, and we never told anyone. It took a little to figure out how to transform back, but the wolf-spirit’s been inside me ever since.”

“You can’t get rid of it?” you ask. “Just out of curiosity.”

“Not that I know of,” Wolffe shrugs. “It’ll probably leave me when I die, and go back up into the dancing lights.”

“I guess that makes sense,” you say.

Wolffe tilts his head to the side. “It does?”

“Well, yeah,” you answer.

“So, you believe me?” Wolffe asks.

“Of course,” you say with a small laugh. “There’s no reason not to. Besides, there’s lots of things in this galaxy that we don’t know about, and wolf spirits now aren’t one of them.”

Wolffe gives you a crooked smile and places his forehead against yours. “I don’t deserve you.”

You lean into the embrace and sigh, but your happy moment is interrupted by your growling stomach.

“Hungry?” Wolffe asks.

“A little,” you answer while getting off his lap.

You walk over to the table and pull out the last package of rations from Wolffe’s pack. You open the package and put one of the bars in your mouth, then throw the other one to Wolffe. He catches it, but he doesn’t eat it.

“You can have mine,” Wolffe says.

You cross your arms. “You need to eat.”

“I can wait,” he says.

“You're injured,” you argue. “You need energy to recover.”

“I have reserves,” he retorts.

“Wolffe,” you huff. “I’m not arguing with you. Eat the bar.”

“I said, no,” he says sternly.

“Fine,” you say as you put your coat on. “Then I’ll go find you something to eat.”

Wolffe gets up from the floor and grabs your arm. “You’re not going anywhere.”

You give Wolffe an incredulous look, then yank your arm back. “What is your problem all of a sudden?”

“I’ll go out and find us some food,” he says.

“You’re injured!” you exclaim. “If you transform back into a wolf, you’re going to break open your wound!”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” he says.

“Well, I’m not,” you huff and start walking towards the cabin door.

Wolffe stands in front of it with his arms crossed. “You’re staying in this cabin and that’s an order.”

“Wolffe, I swear to the Maker, you can’t just pull rank on me whenever it suits you!” you exclaim.

“Too bad,” he says.

You fume and try to push past him. “Get out of my way!”

Wolffe groans. “Stop fighting me!”

“Stop telling me what to do!” you yell.

Wolffe grabs your shoulders and shakes you. “What do I have to do, huh?” he asks. “Tie you up?”

“Maybe,” you sneer.

“Why can’t you just listen to me?!” he exclaims.

“Because,” you begin, “you’re not making the best decision for the two of us!”

Wolffe’s patience snaps. “Only because I’m trying to make the best decision for the three of us!”

You pause, taken aback by his choice of words. “Three?”

Wolffe sighs and leans his head back against the door, kicking himself for saying the one thing he didn’t want to say.

“Wolffe,” you ask slowly. “What do you mean by three?”

Wolffe wipes his hand across his face and looks at your confused expression. “You’re pregnant.”

You gasp in shock. “What– How– When– How do you know that?”

Wolffe rubs the back of his neck. “It started out as more than a hunch, but when I transformed into a wolf, I knew for sure because I could hear its heartbeat.”

You place a hand on your stomach and stagger backwards, looking for a place to sit as you try to process this life-changing information.

Wolffe catches you and guides you to one of the chairs by the table. He kneels down in front of you and takes your hands in his. “I wasn’t going to say anything until you figured it out on your own. I’m sorry. It would’ve been difficult to explain.”

You stare at Wolffe, still in disbelief. “I’m pregnant?”

Wolffe nods his head. “Yeah.”

“I’m pregnant,” you say as you continue to stare at Wolffe.

Wolffe isn’t sure what to do, so he just stays still and waits for you to make the next move.

Suddenly, the lightbulb turns on in your head. “That’s why you gave me your rations and why you didn’t want me to leave.”

Wolffe lets his shoulders relax as you finally understand. “Exactly,” he sighs. “I was worried about the baby.”

You start to laugh and Wolffe raises his eyebrow in confusion. You throw your arms around Wolffe’s neck and squish yourself against him tightly. He pulls you from the chair to sit in his lap and holds you there for as long as you will let him. He rubs your back with his hands and soothes you with soft kisses along your neck.

“Will you let me take care of you now?” he whispers.

“Yeah,” you mumble.

Wolffe gives you one last big squeeze, then hoists you up to carry you over to the rug near the fire. He places you down gently on the rug and wraps you up in the blanket, then gives you a small kiss on the cheek. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Promise?” you ask.

“Promise,” he answers.

Wolffe removes his blacks, since it’s the only pair he has and he doesn’t want to ruin them, then hands them to you. “Here, they should smell like me now.”

You smile, take them from him, and breathe in his calming scent.

Wolffe leaves the cabin, making sure the door latches securely behind him, then transforms into a wolf so he can find some food. His shoulder wound still hurts, but he can walk on it without much of a limp now, which is fine for him. Even if it was broken, he would still go out and find you food. The urge to protect and provide is so much stronger now that he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that you’re carrying his child. He would do anything to keep you both safe.

Now that you’ve settled down and have time to think, you feel bad for being angry and argumentative with Wolffe. Everything he’s done for you since he first found you in the forest has been to protect you and the baby you didn’t even know about. You can’t even begin to imagine how difficult it has been for him to keep that secret for so many weeks. You’re body hasn’t changed, so it never even occurred to you that you could be pregnant, but he knew.

You wait diligently in front of the fire for Wolffe to return, wishing you had a data-pad to distract yourself with, or even a deck of cards, or anything. Waiting in the quiet is making you fidget out of boredom, and if you’re not careful, you’ll fidget your fingernails right off your fingers. You need something busy yourself with, so you scan around the cabin to try and find inspiration. Then you realize that whatever food Wolffe brings back with him is going to need to be cooked. Bingo.

You throw Wolffe’s top blacks over your head, so you don’t have to carry the blanket around, and you walk over to the kitchen portion of the room. You go through all of the broken cabinets and drawers until you find something to cook in. You have a fire, but throwing some dead carcass on an open flame makes your stomach churn. Eventually, you find a large pan hidden away in a corner. It’s a little dusty, but it’ll do. You clean it off, then set it near the fire to preheat.

Satisfied with your preparations, you sit back down onto the rug and continue to wait for Wolffe. Your wait isn’t much longer before Wolffe returns from his hunt, but then again, without a chronometer, you can’t tell how long he’s actually been gone. The latch on the cabin door opens, then closes abruptly, and you smile while stoking the fire. You hear him take a few steps into the cabin as the floor creaks beneath his weight, but the steps are followed by a loud thud.

You whip around to see Wolffe lying on the ground, his fresh kill next to him. You rush over to check and make sure he’s still breathing, and he is. Thank the Maker. His body is cold from exposure, which makes sense, but you notice his breathing is labored and he’s sweating. You put your hand to his forehead and it’s hot. He has a fever. You curse under your breath, and check under the bandage on his shoulder. It’s red around the edges, just what you were afraid of.

“Wolffe,” you say. “I need you to get up for me.”

Wolffe groans.

“Come on,” you say while putting his arm around your shoulder. “You’re too heavy for me. I need you to help me.”

Wolffe musters what he can and you do your best to drag him over to the rug by the fire. His body is cold, and you need to warm him up so he has a chance to fight the infection. You lay him down on the rug and work to get his blacks on. It’s a struggle, and you wish he would’ve stayed in his wolf form since it came with its own fur coat, but you guess it’s better if he can talk to you. You cover him with the blanket, then focus on cleaning and redressing his shoulder.

Once you get Wolffe situated, you turn your attention to the dead creature at the door. You're not completely sure how to turn it into dinner, so you just throw it into the pan next to the fire and hope for the best. It’s better than starving, but you wish you could make it into soup to help Wolffe. You think for a moment, then get an idea. You grab snow from outside and use it to fill the pan. Then take the electrolyte package from the medpack and dump it in the pan too.

You look at your concoction brewing by the fire and narrow your eyes. “That’s going to taste awful.”

“Mesh’la,” Wolffe calls in between pants.

You turn your attention away from the pan and back to Wolffe, then scoot over to him. “I’m here.”

“Sorry,” he breathes.

You smile and wipe his forehead with your sleeve. “Don’t be. You took good care of me, of us. Now it’s my turn.”

Wolffe doesn’t respond, but you know he would if he could. What’s important now is that he gets rest.

After a little while, you check on the weird soup you’re trying to make and see that the creature is thoroughly cooked, at least, you think it’s thoroughly cooked. You taste some of the ‘broth’ and you’re not impressed, but at least it has salt and nutrients in it. You scoop up the broth into one of the bowls you found and bring it over to Wolffe. You situate yourself behind him so he can sit up against you and you can help him drink it. He fights you on it, but you eventually win.

Once you’re both fed, you throw more logs on the fire and settle in on the rug next to Wolffe. He’s shivering from his fever, so you snuggle up to him to try and keep both of you warm. It’s not ideal for you, but you know Wolffe would try to give you the blanket and his blacks if he knew you were cold, and you can’t let him do that, not when he’s sick. With Wolffe heating your back and the fire heating your front, you let your mind slow down and drift off to sleep.

The next two rotations, you guess, are similar. Wolffe’s fever continues as he fights the shoulder infection and the blizzard still rages on outside. You wonder if it’ll ever stop. The only good thing about the cold is that you can leave the leftovers outside and defrost them by the fire when you need them. Lucky for you, Wolffe brought back a decent sized creature that you’ve been able to ration out. But, the food reserves are dwindling, and neither of you will survive on nothing.

Finally, on the third rotation, you think, Wolffe’s fever breaks and his infection looks much better. He continually apologizes to you for getting sick, but he knew that if he didn’t bring back food, and he fell ill, you both would have been in trouble. You, of course, tell him not to worry about it and that you’re glad he came back safely. He saved your life, again, and you couldn’t be more grateful. Actually, he saved both you and your baby’s life, which makes you love him even more.

Not long afterwards, you both notice a silence. It’s still dark outside, but there’s a certain sound missing. The sound of the howling winds. You walk over to the cabin door, with Wolffe right behind you, and you open it to see nothing but a white ground and a black sky. The storm is over. You smile and lean back against Wolffe’s chest in relief. Now you can leave and head towards the rendezvous point to meet up with the battalion. It won’t be difficult with Wolffe leading the way.

As you stare out into the darkness, hot puffs of breath mingling into the cold night air, the sky lights up with green and blue colored streaks. Your mouth gapes and your eyes widen at the magical sight. It’s just like Wolffe described, dancing lights in the night sky. Wolffe wraps an arm around you and pulls you close against him and smiles. He’s happy you get to see them too. Then he hears the spirit within him howl towards the dancing lights above and he feels complete.

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[hugshughes]

Headphones J. McCarthy

JJ McCarthy x fem!reader

synopsis - He finally does it. JJ finally wins it all, and as always his best friend, his girl, is there through all of it.

wc - 2k

contains - if you haven't read Rose Bowl, Baby! do it before you read this!!!! the whole Headphoens thing won't make sense to you if you don't so. it's not a direct part two but there's def references to stuff talked about in it, it's the same universe so. established relationship! um cursing, kissing, hugging, touching(? JJ gets a bit handsy after his big win), crying, a bit of making out, the L word, uhmmm, OH TALKS OF MARRIAGE (awwwwwww ur joking). OH WAIT this has like the insinuation that JJ might declare for the draft, but he hasn't yet so that's not real (as of now).

an - UNEDITED! this one prettyyyy short but I wanted to get something out since the BIG WINNNNN yall don't get how much i cried. we were all crying, it was a mess. so proud of the team, GOD BLESS BLAKE. so fucking happy right now. well deserved win for the boys, they put me through an emotional whirlwind though. don't even start on having to watch penix after the game ended, it ruined my life. anyways, i hope you enjoy this.

read, Rose Bowl, Baby! first, if you havent.

-

9:15

The numbers shown above on the Jumbotrons the stadium was equipped with. The minutes were quickly washing away on this football game. It was the fourth quarter, this drive was make or break. If Michigan doesn't score on this drive, it gives Washington the perfect chance to tie the game up late in the fourth.

JJ could do it, you knew he could. He had proven himself time and time again, that not one thing anyone said about him, no matter it be by a famous reporter or a hateful person online, was true.

JJ had controlled this game. He knew exactly what he needed to do to get what he wanted, the College Football Championship. He was comfortable, and calm. JJ had been locked in on the game through all four quarters. He'd put his headphones on at the beginning of the game and hadn't taken them off.

You, along with Jay's family around you hadn't sat down since halftime, not during such a big game.

He looked perfect out there, everything was calculated. Every movement he made was thought out. JJ clapped from his huddle, and his teammates went to their places, moving positions to keep the Washington defense on their toes.

The ball was snapped perfectly, JJ stalled while his men moved across the field, the ball flew from his hands, soaring down the field and right into the hands of a jumping Colston Loveland. Huge first down! Yes!

The boys set up 40 yards down the field, on the Washington 30 yard line. After two more snaps the down was reset again, the boys lining up at the Washington 15. On the next play, JJ quickly handed the ball to Blake, who got a few yards out the field. The next play was crucial. JJ took a deep breath, clapping for the ball. He quickly handed it to Blake, who ran up the middle straight into the end zone! Oh my God, yes! Touchdown Wolverines! It was exactly what they needed, to get ahead multiple scores, so they could sit as comfortably as possible for the rest of the game.

You and JJ's mom, Megan, had started tearing up once he handed off another touchdown, making the score 13-34. You knew this was it, he'd done it. You hugged everyone near you when the clock ran out, crying while laughing with his family. All the families were escorted back into the stadium, and down the tunnel, out onto the field.

You watched JJ run around, talking to reporter after reporter, your favorite smile bright as the stadium lights. He hugged his teammates, and then we all got the go ahead to go out to the field. You hugged Colston, then Blake, and Donovan before you finally got to JJ, in the middle of the crowd. He turned from the cameras and saw his parents, his face lighting up even more. He hugged them so tightly, his eyes getting teary, he'd had everything he'd ever wanted, his family there with him after he won the CFC. He opened his eyes and immediately spotted you, smiling at him in your navy #9 jersey.

He departed from his parents after a few more seconds, saying a few words to them before he lightly pushed past them to about tackle you in a hug. You both stumbled back, brushing against others in the crowd, but it didn't matter in the moment.

"JJ! Oh my God, I'm speechless, really."

He squeezed you tighter, laughing in your ear, pulling back to see your face. You cupped his cheeks, not even noticing the eye black on your hands, that had also no doubt smeared to your neck when he hugged you. You both just smiled at each other.

"Couldn't have done this without you, baby."

He shook his head, emphasizing his sentence. You quickly disregarded it, he would've been great no matter what you were to him.

"This is all thanks to you, JJ. This is what you've worked for."

"'M serious, couldn't've done it without my headphones."

You smiled at him lovesickley, his mom was no doubt taking pictures of you two right now, along with all the cameras meant for JJ.

"I love you!"

You didn't get a chance to respond before JJ smashed his lips onto yours, pulling you somehow closer by your hips. I guess he wants to put on a show, you thought as JJ deepend the kiss. You pulled back from him when you needed air, your chest heaving as your smile stuck to your face.

JJ talked to another reporter, blushing when the man mentioned your kiss. JJ held your hand behind his back while he talked to the man, and you stood with your arm extended out, a few feet behind him, talking with other player's moms.

JJ took some pictures with you and his family before he had to go do media. His personal favorite photo was when you were both turned with your backs to the camera, so you could see the MCCARTHY on both of your backs, but he snuck his hand on your ass. The photo has him with his head turned laughing while yours is turned to him with a gasp framing your face. If you looked at the live version of the photo, you'd see the little video of JJ grabbing you by your waist right after you lightly slapped him.

JJ kissed you again before he ran back to the locker room, he had media to do. You waited with his parents for about an hour before you saw JJ again. You'd watched his live media from your phone while you sat on the ground somewhere inside of NRG Stadium.

Once you'd gotten back to the hotel the team was staying at, most of the team and some family members were all in the large bar and restaurant on the main floor of the lobby. It was almost completely empty other than the team, thanks to them taking up most of the space in the hotel.

"Baby, I can find someone to hang out with, you should celebrate with the guys."

JJ had kept right by your side since you'd gotten to the celebration area, which had now extended from the bar into the lobby of the hotel.

"I am, but I want you right next to me all through this. You've been with me through all of this, you're celebrating too."

You just told him you loved him with hearts in your eyes. He was the sweetest man you'd ever known.

You both stayed out with the group until a little after 1 in the morning, which was early compared to when everyone else would head up. JJ was sleepy, he'd been up for about 18 hours, so you decided it was time to head to sleep.

JJ had showered in the stadium, but you still had to after being in the stands for so long, you could've swore a chunk of your hair smelled like stadium beer.

JJ was passed out asleep when you came back out into the room, you smiled softly, turning off the lamp and plugging your phone in before slipping into bed next to him. He immediately reacted, pushing himself closer to you, wrapping his arms around, and tangling his legs with yours. He was clingy when sleepy.

"Y'know I meant what I said earlier, even though you don't think it's true. You're the only reason I'm still doing what I love, you've helped me through so much baby. I don't say thank you enough."

You were taken back. Tears formed in your eyes at his sentiment. You were sleepy too, so your emotions were on high alert. You tilted his head up towards you, kissing him softly, rubbing your thumb back and forth over his cheekbone.

"You are so special, Jay. No one's like you. You're the most gracious person I've ever known. I love you so much, you have no idea how proud I am of you."

"I love you."

He kissed you again, bringing one of his hands to lay on your hip, the other your neck. Your lips moved rapidly. You let JJ's tongue move against yours, moving your hands to his hair.

JJ pulled away from you first, his chest heaving as he smiled at you sleepily. He gave you one more sweet chaste kiss before laying his head back down against your chest.

"I know you wear my jersey to almost all the games, but somethin' about seeing you in it tonight made me feral."

You were shocked, you wouldn't have ever guessed that seeing his name on your back like you'd done dozens of times before would get him flustered.

"I dunno, it was like makin' me think about when we get married, when I make you Mrs. McCarthy."

You were completely dumbfounded. Of course you know that both you and JJ were it for each other. Neither of you wanted anyone else for the rest of your lives. You only saw yourselves getting married to each, having kids with each other. But still, hearing him say it, was hot.

"Oh yeah? Well it's been almost five years, sweetheart. I was thinking maybe in the next couple I might have a ring?"

"Definitely. Hundred percent chance, no way I wait that long, it'll probably be sooner than a few years."

You smiled, holding him tighter than before. You didn't care when JJ proposed, seriously. You knew he would when it was the perfect time. He was always calculated like that, he knew when to do everything, throw a pass, run the ball, kiss you.

"Doesn't matter when to me. As long as I'm the only one you ever propose to."

Jay nodded against your chest, giggling to himself. He was so tired, you knew you had to make him go to sleep soon.

"Who else could there be? It's only ever been you. You're who I think of when I do headphones. I think that it's just the team, me, and you. I know you don't care if I lose by twenty touchdowns or win by a hundred."

You could've melted. JJ was especially sentimental real late when you were both on the brink of sleep, the air full of love. Thick, sweet, syrupy love that seeped into every crevice of your beings until you were soaked in it.

You motioned headphones over his head still pressed against your sternum, just for good measure. He was your JJ, always.

"I love you, champ."

You whispered as you heard his baby snores leave from his mouth, his head subconsciously shifting to the curve of your neck. All you could think, feel, and comprehend was love.

[arctrooper69]

How Fascinating

Waking up next to Tech is like waking up on a cloud. It's like waking up in heaven.

@clonexreaderbingo "Your eyes are so beautiful"

I got the idea from this post by @ladyzirkonia

Warnings: No smut but there's a bit of suggestive fluff. 😘

--------------------------------------------------

Gentle tendrils of sunrise drifted quietly through the cracks of the slated blinds, waking Tech from his slumber. He inhaled deeply, blinking the sleep from his eyes. He rolled over to his side and with nimble fingers, plucked his goggles from the bedside table, careful not to jostle the sleeping figure next to him. A smile crept through his lips as he lay back down, sinking into the warm mattress, bathed in golden sunlight. It had been a long, long time since he'd gotten anywhere close to feeling so well rested. So peaceful.

Tech propped himself up onto his elbow, overlooking his sleeping companion. She was so beautiful. So kind, and bathed in the golden glow of sunlight, Tech likened her to a star.

***

The sensation of fingers lightly running up and down your arm pulled you from a deep sleep. An unbidden grin snuck it's way over your lips, giving away the fact that you were no longer asleep.

"How fascinating..." He whispered, fingers running through your hair.

"Hmm?" You turned to face him, opening your eyes. Tech chuckled as he brushed the hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear.

"I was simply admiring the way the sunlight frames your face. Even asleep you are beautiful. It's fascinating."

Pulling him close, you planted a kiss on his nose.

"You're just saying that because you want me to stay in bed with you."

”Well, yes..." he replied sheepishly.

You giggled and rolled your eyes.

"Tech you know I have to go to work soon."

His fingers traced across your collarbone.

"I know," he sighed. "But I did very much mean what I said." He took your hand. "You are truly beautiful."

You sighed, the blissful moment shattered by an unexpected flash of melancholy.

"Do you really think that?"

Tech blinked, unsure where the sudden change in tone had shifted.

He pressed his lips to your forehead.

"I do."

The fleeting offense floated back into the melancholic abyss from whence it came as you smiled warmly into the warmth of his neck. He smelt like grease and gunsmoke.

"Prove it."

You felt him raise an eyebrow and smirk against the skin below your collarbone where his lips lay on their path to smoothly kiss his way down your body. He turned his head towards you.

"I know that look. Do not try to tempt me with those beautiful eyes of yours, cyare. I thought you needed to get ready for work?"

"I can call in sick."

--------------------------------------------------

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[dangraccoon]

Nightmare

Crosshair x Reader

@clonexreaderbingo (if you want me not to tag you on future late additions lmk)

Square filled: "go to sleep"

Word count: 341

Warnings: trauma, nightmare, The Outpost & related topics, comfort

Note: I am well aware that I am posting this in March of 2024, but I decided I wanted to keep going, deadline be damned.

Crosshair awoke with a start, coughing violently, as he desperately fought to remove the snow that had filled his lungs in the avalanche. He needed to get to Mayday.

No- no, that wasn’t right. There wasn’t snow here and this wasn’t the mountain. The warm breeze fluttering the curtains as it passed through the open window was enough to dispel that. There were no vultures overhead, just the lazily turning blades of the ceiling fan. To his right wasn’t Mayday, but you, not frostbitten or injured, just sleeping.

He screwed his eyes shut, pressing his palms to them despite the way his right hand trembled.

“Cr’ss?” you murmured, groggily sitting up and scooching closer. “‘S’okay, baby.”

“I’m fine,” he answered too quickly. “Go to sleep.”

Despite his protest, you wrapped your arms around him, the warmth of your body enveloping his. You sleepily coached him through a breathing exercise, still holding him tightly and rubbing small circles into his back.

“Wanna talk?” you asked simply.

He sat silent, still going through the exercise without your guidance, but gave a little shake of his head.

You hummed an acknowledgment, repositioning yourself between him and the headboard with your legs on either side of him. Gradually, you eased him back to lean against you. He turned onto his side to press his ear against your chest, visibly relaxing as he listened to your heartbeat, strong and steady.

You combed your fingers through the short silver hair that had finally started to get some length back to it. “Which one?”

“Outpost,” he whispered. 

You pressed a soft kiss to the top of his head, heart aching when he shuddered underneath you. “Cold?”

He nodded, nuzzling his head ever closer to your chest. You reached down, grabbing and pulling the blanket up over both of you.

“Want more?”

He nodded again, so you reached for the remote on his nightstand. Turning it to a low setting, you heard a soft sigh of relief.

“What do you need, baby?” you murmured into his hair.

“Just you.”

Thanks for reading! - River

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[sinfulsalutations]

Alright you beautiful writer you. Could I request, with no pressure or hurry or expectation, Howzer x Fem!Reader being reunited after he is broken out of prison? Like they were together for a while before he got arrested… NSFW if you’re feeling it. 💕 Much appreciation for you and your fantastic writing!!

𝕙𝕠𝕞𝕖 ⋆*･ﾟ𝕔𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕒𝕚𝕟 𝕙𝕠𝕨𝕫𝕖𝕣

➼ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ ☆ ᴄᴀᴘᴛᴀɪɴ ʜᴏᴡᴢᴇʀ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

➼ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ ☆ ɪᴛ ᴛᴀᴋᴇꜱ ᴀ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏᴛʜ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ꜰɪɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛᴜᴍ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʜᴏᴡᴢᴇʀ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋꜱ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴘʀɪꜱᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇᴛᴜʀɴꜱ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ɪɴꜱᴛᴀɴᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ, ʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴇꜱ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ʟɪꜰᴇ.

➼ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ☆ ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ʜᴜʀᴛ/ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ, ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ, ᴍɪʟᴅ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ʀᴇᴜɴɪᴏɴ (ꜱᴇx), ᴘ ɪɴ ᴠ ꜱᴇx

➼ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ☆ 1.2ᴋ

➼ ᴘᴏᴠ ☆ ꜱᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴ

⋆ ★ ꜰʀᴇᴇ ᴍʏ ʟᴏᴠᴇ, ɪ'ᴍ ꜱᴏʀʀʏ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴛᴏᴏᴋ ꜰᴏʀᴇᴠᴇʀ. ɪ ᴀᴍ ɢᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ᴀꜱꜱ ʙᴇᴀᴛ ʙʏ ʟɪꜰᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴏᴛɪᴠᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇʀꜱ ʙʟᴏᴄᴋ, ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ'ᴠᴇ ɢᴏᴛᴛᴇɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ꜱᴏᴏɴᴇʀ ɪꜰ ɪ ʜᴀᴅɴ'ᴛ. ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀꜱᴛᴀɴᴅ. ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ʜᴀᴅ ꜰᴜɴ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ ʜᴏᴡᴢᴇʀ, ʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ꜱᴛᴏʟᴇ ᴏᴜʀ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛꜱ ɪɴ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴀ ꜰᴇᴡ ᴇᴘɪꜱᴏᴅᴇꜱ, ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴍᴇᴇᴛꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴇxᴘᴇᴄᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ. ᴀʟꜱᴏ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴜᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪɴ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʟᴏɴᴇ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ʙɪɴɢᴏ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴄʀᴏꜱꜱᴇꜱ ᴏᴜᴛ 'ʜᴏᴡᴢᴇʀ' ᴀɴᴅ 'ɢɪꜰᴛ' ᴏɴ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴄʜᴀʟʟᴇɴɢᴇ ᴄᴀʀᴅꜱ. (ɪ ᴘᴜᴛ ɢɪꜰᴛ Qᴜɪᴛᴇ ꜰɪɢᴜʀᴀᴛɪᴠᴇʟʏ, ʟᴍᴀᴏ).

➼ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰɪᴄ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ 18+ ᴅɴɪ

⋆ ★ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3 ⋆*･ﾟ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀᴍ

His immediate reaction, after months of separation and constant anxiety about each other's wellbeing, spending hours pondering and hoping to see you, touch you again, then finally getting that chance in this instant, is just to hold you.

Not to mash your lips together messily without order or dignity; not to say something profoundly romantic or amorous; Howzer instantly has the gut, instinctual urge to wrap you in his arms, wrap himself in your arms, and for the first time in months, feel safe.

You move first; with amble steps you creep closer, allowing him time to process the site in front of him, and offer a gentle smile. Though your muscles fight back against it, so accustomed to endless frowns and worry creases, it’s still a pass of kindness he’s been deprived of for months that you so desperately want him to feel; Howzer flashes a look, seeing it as well, but doesn’t say a word. He’s rather thankful to get the reassurance, to know that your love is still here, waiting for him, after so long.

Soft, gingerly hands reach to cup his face, heedful fingers curling around his jaw and tilting his head down to meet your eyes. Your thumb absentmindedly trails over the scar on his cheek, look into his eyes, that gorgeous face and well-kept hair that you so desperately missed and wished to feel against your skin again, to see and hold again, and let out a shaky exhale. He smiles softly, but it’s still so washed down he’s barely recognizable. Frustration boils deep inside of you, but doesn’t dare surface; you know he’s going to need a moment before he’s back to his full self.

Before you can say anything, Howzer nuzzles his face into your neck and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you tight to his warm body. You can feel how he takes a deep, deep inhale, nose pressed to your skin and slowly moving to press against your hair, taking in your scent, taking in you, holding you there for a long moment. Your hands reach up and grip his shoulders to keep him steady as he trembles where he stands.

Howzer brushes a strand of hair behind your ear and tilts his head up, softly asking, delicate and quiet in your ear,

“Were you safe?”

You nod softly, screwing your lips tight. He sounds so worried, all the anxieties and hardships from months of Imperial imprisonment and separation flowing from Howzer’s veins to yours. You’d gone through so many paths of thought and paranoia yourself; to imagine what he might’ve felt and dealt with makes your heartache.

“Was everything okay?” Howzer then asks. You feel his eyelashes brush against you, fluttering softly as he scrunches them tight in concentration. Without hesitation, you move your hands and hold his face again, handling him to press your foreheads together. Howzer relaxes ever so slightly in your grasp.

“It was,” You tell him. He doesn’t open his eyes, but you don’t mind. In your way, you understand completely. As you continue talking, his hands leave your waist and are placed over yours, gripping them softly and messily interlocking your fingers. “But I worried.”

He only nods, muttering ‘I know, I know,’ and allowing you to repeat it for him, to emphasize.

“I worried so much .”

Another nod.

“I know, I know.”

Another stifled hiccup.

“And–you’re okay.”

Howzer’s hand moves, guiding yours to his mouth and he carefully kisses your palm, eyebrows knitted, before he brings it back to his cheek and opens his eyes. The tight strings holding his face together come undone the instant your eyes meet, and he offers you a bigger smile than before. One of relief, of love. 

“I am,” He says.

You can’t stop yourself. With an anguished heave, you pull Howzer down to your lips, seizing him in the way you’ve dreamt of, wished for every night when he’d been taken from you.

He squeezes your hands tight while his mouth presses to yours with equal fire, before his dexterous hands dislodge themselves from you and descend to trail over your body, finding his favorite places in your dips and crescents again, relearning how you feel against him. It’s a slow, gentle exploration. One of two lovers recapitulating each other, even after pelts of obstacles and separation, and fit together like two puzzle pieces.

Howzer lets out a dark sigh against your lips before letting his lips part, swiping his tongue over your lips and pushing past. He doesn’t need your permission; he never does. To still give him such trust in both directions has your heart beating faster, practically jumping out of your chest. Howzer can feel it; he separates for a moment to smile, brighter and wider than before. You blink back a lone tear that threatens to ruin such a perfect moment.

“Howzer,” You mutter absentmindedly.

”Yes?” He answers.

Silence, contentment and peaceful stillness take over the whole atmosphere. You want him, need him so bad, desperately crave breaking down the last barrier, and finally prove to your brain that the man you love is right here, with you, rightfully returned.

You want to speak, but all that comes out of you is a whine.

Howzer hums thoughtfully as if he knows exactly what you mean to say.

”I’m here, mesh’la,” He tells you, closing in again and caressing your lips with his. “I know, it doesn’t feel real. It’s the same for me.”

Your eyes flutter close and you nod with a strained sigh, dislodged and sore in your throat. His lips trail away and place a kiss on your temple. Howzer’s hands trail further down until they reach the backs of your thighs.

He finalizes the sentiment with sweet, low words whispered in your ear.

”But we’re back home. I’m back home. Where I belong. I’ll do anything to make sure we both remember that.”

He has you held against him. You don’t even realize that he’s slowly guided you to your room until your back has met the mattress. You squeal softly and he shushes you affectionately with a slow peck. But you can feel the sly grin he barely contains.

It's such a gift, to hold him like this. Like the Maker has finally decided to bestow on you what he'd so rudely taken from you. You strip each other down, slowly and methodically with no rush, placing kisses on newly exposed skin and mouthing mumbles and mutters of longing and adoration into each other's bodies, then meeting the other's eyes to offer a bittersweet smile. 

Howzer holds his cock halfway inside of you, grunting softly when you sigh sugary soft and kiss his hairline.

“You’re okay," You whisper, half to him, half to yourself as reassurance.

He nods, lips strung tight together and just heaving. Holding back, savoring every single crevice of you he'll receive.

“I am,” Howzer says.

You sigh softly as he trails his thumb over your clit, the other hand holding your waist steady against the mattress.

“We’re–We’re okay,” You stammer out, eyes flitting up and away from his intense gaze. Howzer reaches in, his hum rumbling from his chest and vibrating against your skin, and he places a wet, hot kiss on your jaw.

“Yeah, we are. We are–just like this. Kriff .” He lets a curse leave his mouth as he feels you clench around him, as if beckoning him to give you more, make sure you damn well know that he is here, with you, finger-fucking you while you hold back tears of pent-up pain and relief.

And when he finally buries himself to the end of you, hands and eyes interlocked, Howzer knows he’s returned home.

dividers by @saradika ~ tags: @clonexreaderbingo @starstofillmydream @pb-jellybeans @corrieguards @badbatchbabe @ladytano420 @jediknightjana @sleepycreativewriter @shinyshayminflower @secondaryrealm @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @anotherschuylersister @wolffegirlsunite @starrylothcat

[ghostofskywalker]

Filed Under: Incident Reports

Words: 1,106

Summary: managing a bar was never easy, but you tried your best to keep things running smoothly, even if sometimes you had to make hard decisions

or alternatively: a collection of 79’s most hilariously infamous incident reports, some which made you ponder a career change.

@clonexreaderbingo square: 79's

ao3 link || clone troopers masterlist

Note: this fic is a sister story to one of my favorite fics i've ever written, filed under: payroll complaints. I loved the idea of doing a "filed under" collection of unconventional reader fics, so i wrote this :) and of course this is dedicated to my friend @captainsophiestark, who is one of the best people i've met on here and who i think loves the first one as much as i do :)

“Hey boss!” The sound of someone talking to you caught your attention as you checked off items on the inventory list you were taking. “Can I talk to you?”

The nervous expression on Kalina’s face was not one you were accustomed to seeing, so your face immediately shifted. She was your newest employee, and you hoped everything was alright. “Is everything okay?” 

“I had to file an incident report last night after you left,” she said, looking down at the floor, as if she was expecting you to launch into a tirade and fire her. 

Instead, you burst out into laughter, and she looked up at you, confusion present in her eyes. “Was it a good one?” you asked once you had pulled yourself back together. 

“I’m sorry?” 

“The incident report,” you said. “Do you think it would make the Hall of Fame?” 

Clearly, the other employees had not filled her in on this very important part of working at this particular establishment. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she stammered. 

You reached out to gently pat her shoulder. “In this place, incident reports are a dime a dozen,” you said. “So we take the funniest ones and file them separately. Come on,” you said, heading behind the bar in the direction of your office. “I’ll show you.” 

The file folder was exactly where it always was, and Kalina handed you the one she had filled out last night as you laid the various pieces of flimsi across your desk. “What battalion were the clones from last night part of?” you asked.

“The 501st I think.” 

“Oh don’t worry, I think at this point we have enough for a whole file on them.” 

*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ ﾟ･:*

Incident Report #7103

Time of Disruption: 23:41

Damage Sustained: Three bottles of Corellian Whiskey, Minor scrapes from scattered glass

Description of Incident: A Jedi General accompanying his troops to the bar for the evening attempted to utilize the Force to have their drinks refilled without having to get up or alert any of the employees. Startled (by his own drunken hiccup, according to witnesses) as the bottles were crossing the room, it turns out the use of any kind of Jedi tricks requires intense concentration or objects will crash to the ground. 

Statement From Parties Involved: [Trooper with “5” tattooed on his forehead] “Wow. We thought he would have had a higher alcohol tolerance than that.”

*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ ﾟ･:*

Incident Report #7476

Time of Disruption: 19:28

Damage Sustained: One drink transport droid, three bottles various liquor, two employee uniforms

Description of Incident: On the way back from the refresher, a drink transport droid startled a commander with orange-yellow armor, and he subsequently roundhouse kicked the droid’s head clean off, where it landed behind the bar and startled employees as they mixed drinks. 

Statement From Parties Involved: profuse apologies from the commander, while his troopers (who were privy to the entire event) laughed with glee. 

*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ ﾟ･:*

Incident Report #7729

Time of Disruption: 21:09

Damage Sustained: Minor injuries (from faceplant)

Description of Incident: Trooper with goggles did not accurately guess his alcohol tolerance, and immediately falls face-first onto the floor after stepping down from a stool at the bar, going unconscious momentarily. Thankfully, his squad was nearby and was able to help him out of the establishment.

Statement From Parties Involved: [Trooper with skeleton face tattoo, as his goggled brother is still reciting random facts about hyperspace engines] “We’re sorry. He isn’t usually like this.”

[Silver-haired trooper] “Don’t listen to Hunter. He may not usually drink this much, but this behavior is very much normal.”

*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ ﾟ･:*

Incident Report #7999

Time of Disruption: 20:42

Damage Sustained: Emotional (embarrassment) 

Description of Incident: Frantic troopers in blue armor approached the bar and informed staff that their commanding officer had accompanied them this evening and was now apparently missing. After imploring that the music was stopped and an announcement was made, the CO was eventually located (and understandably embarrassed) drinking with commanders of other battalions in a booth not directly in the eye line of their troopers. Atmosphere returns to business as usual within 10 minutes. 

Statement From Parties Involved: [Trooper with Republic symbol tattooed on his forehead] “We couldn’t find Rex and were worried he’d been kidnapped.” 

[Trooper with medic symbol on his shoulder, tiredly] “In a bar filled with clones?” 

[Republic Symbol] “You never know!” 

*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ ﾟ･:*

Incident Report #8954

Time of Disruption: 21:42

Damage Sustained: Four bottles of various liquor, minor shock and dropped drinks, sadness (intruder was whisked away before employees were able to pet it)

Description of Incident: Upon apparent escape from leash, a massif burst through the door and ran in circles around the bar, knocking over several drink transport droids and one startled employee. It also started to approach groups of troopers, barking and jumping on them to demand affection. A tired-looking member of the Coruscant Guard eventually ran in and was able to carry their little escape artist back to headquarters.

Statement From Parties Involved: [massif, in a friendly manner] “bark!” 

*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ ﾟ･:*

Incident Report #8533

Time of Disruption: 02:37

Damage Sustained: Employee’s Innocence

Description of Incident: Trooper with teal accents on his armor spotted getting particularly personal with his date for the evening due to the secluded location of his table and the absence of the rest of his squad. In the future, employees should make sure they find some way to announce their presence when informing customers that the bar will be closing in less than half an hour. 

Statement From Parties Involved:  [To Employee, not the least bit embarrassed]: “Sorry, I didn’t hear you there.” 

[To Date]: “You wanna get out of here?” 

*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ ﾟ･:*

Incident Report #9148

Employee Attending: Kalina Zainne

Time of Disruption: 21:59

Damage Sustained: Loss of Refresher facilities for several hours, Scorch marks on several tables

Description of Incident: Due to a drinking game (of which the exact rules are unknown), small bomb-like devices were built and accidentally detonated both at the table the group was sitting at and in the men’s refresher. When the fire on the table started to get out of control, the only liquid at the table (which happened to be whiskey) was dumped on the device, subsequently making the situation worse. The building’s sprinkler systems were activated and did put out the fire, but showered all patrons with cold water.

Statement From Parties Involved: [Trooper with Republic symbol tattooed on forehead] “Rex is going to kill us.”

Yeah, this was definitely joining the ranks in the Hall of Fame.

- the end -

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divider credit to djarrex

[the-cantina]

Bliss | Hunter x F!Reader

Pinned post | Masterlist | WIP list | The Bad Batch | Clone Squads | Delta Squad

For @clonexreaderbingo | SQUARE: Hunter | Read in Ao3

Fic | Explicit | Word Count: 5.8k (do not perceive me) SUMMARY: After having fun out in a snowy winter day, you and your husband find a very good way to keep warm. CONTENT SFW: Domestic fluff, married life, playful wrestling, use of “queen”, “princess”, and “ma'am”. Hunter is one incurable cuddle bug. NSFW: Explicit smut, a desperate submissive Hunter, reader is a domme and a bit of a meanie, food play, oral sex (both receiving), rough hair pulling, mild manhandling, begging, edging, unprotected PiV, creampie

18+ themes below the cut. Be responsible about the content you consume, if you're not of adult age in your country, do the both of us a favor and go away.

[Gedet'ye = mando'a for please]

It’s not entirely clear who started it, and honestly, finding culprits would do little to change the course of things now; at least, that was the argument that shut up that annoying, anti-fun voice whining inside your head.

You risk another peek from behind the makeshift cover, your already numb hands turning the ice in your grasp into another snowball from muscle memory alone. Hunter had yet to check near the shrubberies chosen as your base of operations. Perfect. Gathering the stack at your feet, you slink away to the next hiding spot, only to freeze midway.

It can’t be…

You can’t fight the smirk that stretches over your lips at the scene ahead. If your rushed attempt at hiding was bad, Hunter’s was downright pitiful. Of all the places, your lover picked the back of your house to hide behind. It was a passable — if predictable — choice. Or it would be, if he didn’t forget to leave his boots out of view.

Tip-toeing to his hiding spot, you bite your lip to keep in the laughter bubbling in your chest, feeling every bit like a cheesy holomovie villain, sneaking behind the hero to deliver a nefarious attack. But the ‘gotcha!’ on your tongue never makes it past your lips.

Confusion robs your voice as you process what’s in front of your eyes. Where you expected Hunter to stand, there’s only a discarded pair of boots, surrounded by undisturbed, smooth snow — no tracks to be seen. Realization feels like a bucket of cold water washing over you, and adrenaline turns your giddiness into hyperawareness in the space of a heartbeat.

He could be anywhere.

Suddenly too exposed and vulnerable, you quickly backtrack your route. Wide-eyed, you scan the white expanse of the backyard for any signal of Hunter activity, suspicious of every blade of grass, branch, and rock littering the floor.

On the edge as you are, the sudden touch on your back is enough to make you jump a foot in the air. An entirely undignified squawk echoes in the cold as you lose balance, toppling headfirst towards the ground.

Your face never touches the snow. Instead, it presses against the warm, solid — rumbling with laughter — chest of your lover.

Petty irritation over losing the battle before it even starts sparks in your chest. But, just like the half-hearted pout in your face, it fizzles out and dies as Hunter’s joy wraps around you like a blanket.

How could you possibly be annoyed when his joy was so loud, so clear? When he gave in to the laughter usually seen in the more carefree Wrecker — the kind that formed belly-deep, rumbling with enough strength to destabilize you from atop him? When he sported a grin so wide, the corner of his eyes crinkled in the most adorable way, sparkling with joy rarely afforded in his way of life? …

Oh, you were in deep for the sergeant, weren’t you? The realization might cause more worry than you really felt, if the love-struck glint in his warm brown eyes didn’t make it clear as day that he was twice as gone for you.

“Gotcha.” He purrs once he calms down enough to speak, strong arms tugging you closer to deliver a noisy kiss at the crown of your head.

“Yeah, yeah. You got me. Happy?” You snort at his lively nodding, before growing serious, “But I can’t believe you took off your boots just to trick me! Let it be known I will hear no grumble or excuse if you catch a cold because of that.”

“Every sacrifice is worth it when it comes to love and war, mesh’la.” Hunter says, sitting and bending over to pull his boots back on before his hands rest on your waist, squeezing softly. “Even more so when this is my winning prize…” His wink is almost enough to kick your annoyance back to life.

“Winning prize, huh?” You ask, turning to straddle him with a smirk and an idea brewing in your head.

“Oh yeah,” Hunter says, eyes closing with a pleased hum when your hands run down his chest and up his sides, “having you in my lap? All over me? Sure feeling like a winner here, love.”

“I’m sure you do, love.” Your smirk widens to a devilish grin as Hunter leans back on his gloved hands, eager to grant you wandering ones further access to his body, “But you should know better than to count your chickens before they hatch!”

It’s Hunter’s turn to jump when, instead of the touch he expected, you shove a fistful of snow up into his blacks. His startled yelp, the way his eyes go wide, jaw popping open in shock and betrayal. It’s all too much. You’re powerless to fight your own fit of laughter, a half-hearted ‘I’m sorry love’ wheezed amidst your cackling.

“Oh no, you didn’t,” he growls, making a show of picking the melting ice from his shirt.

“Oh, but I did,” you say, arms crossing over your chest “all is fair in love and war-” the taunt dies in your throat as the world blurs, and then Hunter is smirking above you, muscular thighs bracketing your waist. “Hunter, cyar’ika…” you plead in vain, wrists pinned above your head. Whimpering is all what’s left as the same evil grin you sported moments ago now stretches over Hunter’s full lips. His hand — full of snow — crawls menacingly close to the edge of your shirt, and your yelp pierces the air when the ice slides home right under your jacket.

“Ah, so it’s war you want?” you say, his payback igniting the fire of revenge on you. In a move mastered after one too many roughhousing with the boys, up go your hips — and off you falls Hunter. On top once more, you promptly wipe off his smirk with two fistfuls of snow.

You wrestle back and forth for what feels like forever, rolling in the frozen ground like a pair of mischievous tooka, no victor ever rising from the tangle of limbs and laughter.

Until you sneeze, that is.

Like the flip of a switch, all mischief bleeds off Hunter’s eyes; the smirk shifts into a fond smile, and tickling hands pull you off the snow, right into his warm body. Your complaints about getting “carried away from the fun” are both half-hearted and quick to fade as you melt into his embrace, humming contentedly as Hunter’s furnace-like body heat seeps into your now damp layers.

It still surprised you, sometimes, how hot clone’s bodies ran. It probably was intentional engineering from the Kaminoans, but you counted it as a blessing. There was no better way to keep toasty and cozy when the cold seasons came around… Not so much of a blessing during summer, though. By then, every moment felt like standing fully clothed under Tatooine’s twin suns — because if there was one thing Hunter was besides loving, it was awfully cuddly.

Probably the reason he has you tucked halfway inside his jacket, your arms by his neck and legs held around his waist like you’re his personal cuddle toy.

Hunter refuses to let you go as he reaches the door, tightening his hold on you when you try to climb down; content to fumble with punching the door’s code with his non-dominant hand, to hop awkwardly while taking off his boots — as long as you stay right where you are. You chuckle at his antics, but hold on strong; if he thrives on cuddling, far from you to deprive your man of his sustenance!

Hunter’s grip doesn’t ease once you’re both inside, breath not even hitching as he keeps you firmly at his hip (oh, the pros of enhanced strength!) while crossing the expanse of your home to the bedroom to pick your fluffiest towel, and you’re still on his lap as warm water fills the bathtub in your ‘fresher.

So. Cuddly.

“Take your time, love,” he says before giving your forehead a kiss, at last done with fussing over your chilled body. “There’ll be caf and snacks waiting when you’re done.”

Sinking in the tub with a contented sigh, you do just that, letting the water chase off whatever lingering cold your family-sized heating pad of a husband didn’t manage to. The familiar clinks and clangs of Hunter’s kitchen antics fill the air, and a fond smile tugs at your lips. Who would’ve thought? The battle-hardened, serious clone sergeant fate had you stumbling upon years ago, now whistled away in the kitchen. Baking.

How you ‘domesticated’ a man like him was maybe the one mystery of your life, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Sure, the whole rebelling against the Empire and the many rotations spent apart took some (a lot of) time to adjust to. But all the cuddles, devotion, and the way Hunter strove to make you feel loved more than made up for it. The homemade food was a definite plus, too — blessed be Echo, for teaching his brothers the life outside of ration bars.

It’s refreshing, you think. Being in a relationship with someone who puts as much work in as you do. Just like you, Hunter never stopped wooing and courting you every moment he got to spend by your side, even after he ‘officially’ moved in, or when you said the ‘I do’ years ago, on that tropical planet’s beach. He was everything you could expect from a husband, really.

Well, except for those nights patching up his blaster wounds, and all the time spent apart. But you knew what you were getting into from the start, so complaining would hardly be fair.

Eventually, hunger outweighs the will to stay in the rapidly cooling water, and you walk back to the bedroom. Deciding on comfort, you rummage through Hunter’s — very messy — half of the wardrobe, humming when you spot your target. The once coarse black fabric is faded gray and soft, the colorful image in the middle has long peeled away.

But you still remember, as if it was yesterday, Hunter’s face when you gifted him the tacky souvenir shirt as a joke. How elated he was that you thought, that you liked him enough to get something — silly as it was — for him.

You’d known each other for a while by then; that you’d been slowly falling for the sergeant was the worst kept secret of your life, but it was that smile and then hug he gave you that day sealed your fate. Hunter’s scent is fading from the fabric when you bring it to your face, but it still has enough him to have the butterflies stir in your belly as you approach the kitchen.

The delicious smell of toasted bread, herbs and spiced caf hits you as you enter the room, but it’s not it, or the fruits and steaming food spread atop the table that makes your mouth water.

Hunter stands with his back to you, the stay-at-home gray sweatpants hanging dangerously low at the hips the only thing on his body. You don’t even try to stop from ogling his broad frame, the strong neck – exposed by the messy bun atop his head –, and the delicious back muscles shifting under golden brown skin as he taste-tests whatever else was he was making for the both of you.

A different kind of hunger blooms inside as you lean on the door frame. Your fingertips tingle with the need to trace the designs inked on his skin, to run over the expanse of his back and up his scalp the way you know he loves. The way that makes him look at you with a need mirroring the one steadily growing at the apex of your thighs.

Biting down on your lip is all you can do to keep silent your groan as Hunter stretches; his arms rise up above, giving you a show of his biceps, and your mind’s eye floods with scenes of the last time your nails dug in them. You mentally pat yourself in the back for not jumping your husband’s bones then and there, and keep on watching the little show he unknowingly puts on.

It amused you, how focused Hunter could get with his tasks; how at ease he felt in your home, able to relax instead of having his senses on alert and scanning for danger 24/7. Enough to let all sounds, noises, and scents blend into ‘white noise’, blissfully oblivious to whatever went on outside his immediate bubble, to the point he won’t even notice you.

Not until a soft groan leaves your lips — the throbbing between your legs grown too insistent to be ignored for much longer —, and he turns around with the beginnings of that grin that always sends your heart racing.

“I didn’t hear you come in, cyar'ika, snacks are…” the words fade into silence once he registers what you’re wearing, and how little. The bottom of the shirt barely covered past the top of your thighs, and by the way Hunter breathes in and groans, he’s plenty aware it’s the only thing you got on. Even without enhanced senses, he’s seen you aroused enough times by now to pick on your heaving chest, your lips parting as your thighs squeeze together… On the heavy, hungry gaze pining him into place and heating his own body.

Hunter leans back in the counter with a smirk, arms crossing over his chest. A teasing brow rises when your eyes follow the movement, and the smirk grows into a cocky smile when he flexes, and you involuntarily lick your lower lip.

“May I be of help, cyare?” he asks, not bothering to hide the huskiness on his voice.

Instead of giving a verbal answer, you approach him slowly, enjoying how his heated gaze follows your every move, breath growing shallow as he takes a better look at you. By the time you reach Hunter, he’s already grasping the countertop, both making himself all the more inviting to your gaze and knowing better than to make a move to touch you.

And that was another thing that surprised you in this relationship. When you first got intimate, you fully expected a large man like him, a squad leader, to be full of dominance between the sheets, but that was not the case. Sure, Hunter had his moments of taking the reins when you didn’t feel like leading the show but — unlike some past lovers —, he didn’t complain or huff about your own dominant nature. If anything, he encouraged it.

“Oh, you want to help me?” You purr, grasping his chin to make him look at you, instead of your thighs. He did not earn it, yet. “I can think of some ways…” your opposite hand rakes down his chest, and you watch in delight as goosebumps rise in the wake of your touch.

Hunter shudders when your fingers trace the scar crossing his rib cage, a low moan spilling from his lips as his body arches under your touch, heated skin hungry for more of your caresses. You don’t leave him wanting, moving to squeeze his hips and ass, enjoying the feeling of strong muscles flexing under your palm as Hunter focuses on staying still, so you may explore as you please.

“Aren’t you such a good boy? Taking what I give you without being greedy,” he nods in your grasp, eyes closing under the praise, but snapping back open when you give his cheeks a soft squeeze, “good boys deserve rewards.” You pull him down to the readily reciprocated kiss, humming as the sweetness of what he was tasting coats your tongue. Hunter bucks with a groan when you cup the growing bulge in his pants, “And so willing to please…”

“Any- anything for you, cyare, ah-” he stutters between pants as you kiss and bite down the strong column of his neck.

“Great! So, will you please be a dear and grab the syrup for me? I’m really craving a snack right now, and you’re at the cabinet already!” The disbelief in Hunter’s eyes at your sudden change of subject is a little sad, but you only smile expectantly, tilting your head to the side when he doesn’t move outright.

“Anything for you, love… Which flavor do you want?” when he finally speaks, the strain of lust clear as day, as is the one in the sweatpants. His breath hitches when he adjusts it before reaching for the syrup. 

You pounce as soon as his back is turned. Hands resting on his chest, you kiss each vertebra of his back tattoo, trailing down to close your teeth at the dip of his waist. He rewards you with one of the deep moans you love, trying to turn around before you stop him, nails digging on the meat of his hips.

“No, darling” you tut, breasts pressing against his back, a finger drawing circles at the edge of his cock’s outline, “keep your hands right where they are.” He concedes with a shaky breath, resting his forehead on the cabinet door, forearms resting over his head. “Very good, Sarge.”

You keep teasing him over the sweatpants, fingers running soft paths over his inner thighs, stomach and chest, avoiding the place he needed your touch the most. A flame of wicked satisfaction licks down your back as you watch his hips rut hopelessly against the air whenever you ghost the edges of his bulge.

It’s not until a fine sheen of sweat glazes the skin of his back, knees about to give under the weight of his lust, that Hunter is shown some – cruel – mercy, stepping back and sitting on the countertop.

“I want the chocolate one,” you finally answer his earlier question, a smirk on your lips when Hunter finally glances over his shoulder, lust-glazed eyes blinking a few times before your words truly register. Already so wrecked, and you’ve barely started.

“What will-” words fail when you cross your legs to stave off some of the aching desire in your core, giving him a glimpse of your slicked thighs. “Cyare… What will you…” he takes a deep breath to calm down his mounting frustration, only to regret when the scent of your arousal floods his senses.

“Take your time, darling.” You say, making a show of popping a fruit slice between your lips, then licking the juice off your fingers. He takes a shuddering breath, and you smirk.

“What will you be eating, cyare?” Hunter’s voice is nearly a growl under his need’s weight, one that sends a pleasurable shiver down your back.

“There it is, I knew you could do it!” you coo, kissing his temple and taking the bottle in his hand. “You.” When he blinks in confusion, you weave your hands on the back of his hair, tugging once to get his full attention. “You are the only snack I plan on having, as soon as you sit down on that chair.” You guide his gaze to it, taking the chance to tease that spot under his ear with your lips while he shakily nods. “Now be a good boy for me, yeah?”

The words are barely out of your mouth before Hunter is halfway there, pants flying across the room and chair scrapping over the floor in his eagerness to finally get his reward. Shaking your head with a chuckle, you take your time sauntering your way to him, an extra sway on your hips to tease him one last time.

Once standing between his legs, you open the bottle and let flow a generous stream of chocolate over his chest and stomach. Satisfied with the amount of ‘topping’, you finally give in to the craving that has been killing you since you stepped through the door.

Hunter whines a curse when you take off your top and get on your knees, the softness of your chest on his body threatening to break him even before your tongue can reach him.

The intoxicated groan is not something you can hold back when you give the first lick; the syrup’ sweetness and the salt of Hunter’ skin making for a decadent cocktail that have you immediately diving for more, lips, tongue, and teeth gracing his body with the drive of a beast starved.

By the time your lips finally reach his throbbing bulge, your lover is a sweating, swearing, panting, beautiful mess. His eyes — black with need — stare down at you from behind the thin curtain of curls he tugged free in the need of grounding himself from your touches; sweat-coated chest heaving with the breaths passing from parted lips. And Hunter looks so pretty like that, you almost rise off your knees to tell him that. Almost. Instead, you give in to the demanding fire in your core and rid him of the last barrier keeping you from what you crave the most.

The moment your fingers curl around his cock, Hunter arches off the chair with a shouted moan, hips stuttering in your grasp out of instinct; still, he has the presence of mind to tap your arm twice, and you immediately let go. For a heartbeat, you worry he won’t be able to stop, but with a string of slurred curses falling from his lips, he settles back down. Cheek resting on his trembling thigh, your hand soothes up and down his calves, the other entwined on his own. A squeeze is the signal he’s ready, and you’re quick to pick up from where you stopped.

Holding Hunter’s gaze, you finally bring your mouth to where he needs you the most. A sadistic pleasure licks at the base of your spine as you watch him struggle to keep his eyes open under your tongue’s ministrations. He sucks in a sharp breath when you flatten your tongue against his heavy balls, and it comes out as a whined ‘Gedet'ye’ when you take one inside your mouth before paying attention to the other.

You move to lick the underside of his cock, following the heady trail of pre-cum dripping — flowing — from the neglected head, humming at the warm taste before taking him in your mouth. You’re sure the desperate moan that comes out of his lips is the best sound you’ve heard in your life; as you let him out of your mouth before taking him back as far as you can, you’re gifted with another one.

“Mesh’la!…” Hunter pants, mouth moving but no other words come out. You hum a question, and the vibrations rip a sobbed moan from his chest before a hand tugs at the curls, the other clawing at his own thighs in a brave attempt to ground himself. It seems to work, because Hunter swallows once, twice around his moans before finding his words “Y- You’re killing me, gedet'ye, please, p-”

Hunter’s hips start to buck as you double your efforts, sucking hard on the head as your hands caress his balls and jerk him slow and firm — the way it drives him mad —, his half sentences drown under ragged breaths and growled moans, and when the head of his cock seems to thicken even more on your tongue, you know exactly what to do.

Pure, beautiful music. That’s what Hunter’s needy, broken groan is, as you get back on your feet and leave him dangling at the edge of glory — but with nothing to push him off it. His head falls back, leg bouncing, sweat-slicked chest heaving, breaths huffing against his palms as he brings them to cover his face. Is it…?

You tower over his seated shape, half-caging him in with a hand on the back of the chair, the other holding his jaw. The effect is immediate: Hunter’s attention snaps to you, hands falling away from his face to reveal teary, warm brown eyes under upturned eyebrows. His gaze doesn’t break even as he leans in your touch when your thumb soothes over his tattooed cheek, or when it gently pulls his lower lip from his teeth. 

“Hunter, cyare?” You say, smoothing stray curls off his face and resting your forehead on his, smiling when he softly presses back, “too much, do you need a break? We can always stop if you say the word.”

“Thanks for checking, love,” he says, voice a hoarse whisper — if from affection or moaning so much, you’re not sure —, hand cupping your cheek to bring you to a soft kiss “but I’m good if you are.” He fights the aroused shivers wrecking his body the best he can, keeping his face as clear as possible while you make sure he’s telling the truth. And Hunter knows exactly the moment you’re convinced, your gaze morphing from concerned to sharp, smile melting into a smirk, fingers tugging his head back by the locks now in your fist.

“Oh, I see.” You purr, the gentle grasp on his jaw turning fierce as your nails dig into his tattooed skin, “Are you getting greedy, love? Is this why you weren’t happy with the pleasure I gave, and threw a tantrum, hm?” Hunter hisses when you pull his head to the side by the hair, hips squirming to rut his cock against his body exactly once before your nails dig in, pinning his hip down with your weight, “Is this really what you want right now? To be an ungrateful brat?”

Hunter glances at you from the corner of wide eyes, Adam’s apple bobbing, before shaking his head the best he could from the tight grasp you kept on his hair. But you were not having it, a soft growl rumbling your chest before descending with lips and teeth on the strong column of his neck. Hunter whimpers, the duality of soft lips and sharp teeth making his hips fight your grasp as you bite a fresh claim on his skin. Your lips trail his ear, leaving the bite to sting with no soothing. A promise.

“I asked you a question, ner cyar’ika.” You say, teeth grazing the soft spot right below his ear. A warning. “Now be good for me, and use your big boy words. Will you keep being a brat? Is it a punishment you’re angling for, hm?”

“N– No, ma’am,” Hunter moans, “I want– Please let me be your good boy, please ma’am.”

“Oh, cyare…” you coo, “You know being my good boy is not something you get to beg out of me”. Releasing the grasp on his locks, you chuckle when he briefly tries to follow your retreating touch before catching himself and sitting back again. “Why don’t you show me how much you mean it?”

Hunter is off the chair and hoisting you up the countertop before you can even start to tug off your shirt. You throw him a bone, letting him have a fill of you with nuzzling open your legs and pawing at your thighs to prop them up his shoulders, before his jaw is back on your grasp.

“Oh my, how selfish of me! Feasting on to my heart’s content while you’re so very hungry… Let’s fix that, yeah?” You coo, spreading your legs further and granting him a clear view of how much you want him right now. Hunter’s gaze borders on ravenous as it fixates on your cunt, he barely blinks when you pat his cheek before relaxing back on your back, “Now be a dear and eat all you can ha-”

Your teasing cuts short when Hunter dives in, hands planting near your shoulders as he stands up — rising your lower back clean from the table; your legs tighten on instinct, trapping his head between your thighs. Hunter doesn’t relent, instead rutting the table’s edge with a groan and licking a slow stripe from your entrance to your clit.

The way Hunter is eating you out is a far cry from the gentle, careful way you’re used to. His tattooed cheek glistens with a coating of your slick as he nuzzles your thighs and kisses your pussy lips with abandon. It’s glorious. His moans and groans vibrate deliciously against your center as he uses tongue, lips, and a dash of teeth to suck and tease every spot he knows drives you crazy, before finally moving to your clit.

His lips wrap around your throbbing clit and suck at the same time a thick digit breaches your entrance, and your eyes roll so hard you swear you glimpse at the face of the Maker. You start to roll your hips as a familiar, decadent fire swells in your core, and Hunter’s free hand roves your body. The calloused palms and fingertips only adding to your mounting pleasure as he settles on massaging and squeezing your chest. A second finger breaches you, and you curse, pleasure like a second heart beating to the rhythm of Hunter’s fingers hitting your sweet spot. Then he tweaks one of your nipples, and you’re gone.

You’re vaguely aware of Hunter getting on his knees, giving you a better angle to ride your high on his mouth as pleasure drowns your mind in bliss; or the way his own moans echo yours with the way your thighs squeeze until he’s dazed.

When your high subsides at last, Hunter is quick to catch your wobbly legs as they roll off his shoulders. As you roll your head to the side to check on him — you did put his head in a lock —, a wave of relief and renewed lust wash over you at the sight that greets you. Hunter’s face — chin, mouth, even the bridge of his nose — glistens with your slick, eyes wild, needy gasps falling from his lips. Pre-cum pools under his rutting cock as he mindlessly grinds on the edge of the table — desperate for any kind of relief for his aching.

Scooting to the edge until his length is trapped between your bodies, you pull Hunter in for a kiss. Your taste on his lips makes you moan; the sound spurs him on, hips picking up their rutting in a frantic manner. He groans at the feel of your nails digging on his nape as you deepen the kiss, tongue chasing his and lips swallowing his increasing whimpers.

“Such a good boy, taking care of me so well,” you say, breaking from the kiss for air and holding his face in your hands, gaze locked on his. “Do you know what good boys get? Rewarded. Fuck me, cyare.”

He nods eagerly when you lay back down, face burying in your shoulder as he aligns and sheathes himself to the base in a single motion, ripping a shouted moan from the both of you. His body trembles under your caressing hands with the effort of waiting for you to get used to his girth. You purposefully squeeze your walls around him to signal you’re ready, and he chokes on a moan at the feeling before he starts moving.

Hunter’s moves slow and deep at first, both savoring finally your warmth and making sure you’re truly ready, before he stills again — his length buried as deep as it goes —, both hands gripping your waist hard. Your brows furrow in confusion, and you’re about to ask what’s wrong when he leaves the shelter of your shoulder to face you.

“Mesh’la, I-” Hunter stutters, clearly trying to focus despite his fraying control. “I can’t be gentle I’m- I’m too worked up-” he mumbles, showering kisses all over your chest and kneading the soft of your hips to ground himself against the urge to ravage you.

“Good.” You purr, hands latching on the back of his hair to get his attention back on you. The growl that falls from his lips at that has goosebumps breaking over your skin, am aroused giggle escaping your throat “Because I didn’t ask you to make love to me,” you pull his head down, gracing his neck in another bite, “I told you to fuck me.”

“As you wish, my queen.”

And fuck you he does, beating the breath out of your lungs with every hard stroke of his cock. And even though your legs cross at the ankle and cling to his waist with all you have, or you hold on to his broad shoulders for dear life, Hunter’s hand on your hip was all keeping you in place. The sound of skin on skin, heavy breathing, gasps and half-choked moans make for the debauched symphony of your fucking.

It’s not long before his pace starts faltering, his moans melting into whimpers as his need to fill you up reaches its limit. His rough finger circles your clit with practiced precision, eager to send you over the edge one more time before he can. Hunter clings to you as he feels you come, a hand bruising a grip on your thigh, the other curling tight under your waist to keep you in place; his chest presses yours down, teeth latching on your shoulder.

He thrusts once, twice, and sheathes his cock as far as he can as his climax takes over, a mix of praises and curses of your name falling from his lips like a prayer as his cum fills your cunt.

You barely have the time to catch your breath, to come down from the first round’s haze before you feel Hunter — still buried deep inside you — getting hard once more. You smile down at him, humming as he peppers kisses and nibbles on your chest — maker bless clone stamina. But another kind of hunger overcomes the one flaring back to life between your legs, and your stomach growls a loud refusal to being neglected again.

Hunter snorts a laugh in the valley of your breasts as your cheeks heat up, and leaves a kiss in your forehead before withdrawing from you.

“I hear your orders loud and clear, Princess. Snacks coming up pronto!” he quips, helping you up and off the table to pull your back to his chest, peppering little kisses from your temple to shoulders while you both waddle to the spread of pancakes and fruit Hunter got ready while you bathed.

“Oh, so now I’m only your princess? Minutes ago, I was your queen.” You tease, reaching for a piece of fruit, “I’m appalled at how easily you demote me, Sergeant.”

“My oh my, how could I ever make it up to you?” he rumbles in your ear, snatching your fruit at the last moment and popping it inside his mouth. You gasp, turning around to look at a smirking, unrepentant Hunter. Oh, he is asking for it.

“I do happen to have a few ideas, but we’ll need the whipped cream and a bed this time. Get it ready for us, will you?” You say as you leave his embrace and look for what is needed. “Oh, and Hunter?”

“Hm?”

“That was ten. I do expect to find you waiting and ready when I enter the bedroom.”

“… Yes, ma’am.” You don’t need enhanced eyesight to notice the way he shudders, steps hastening as he practically scampers the rest of the way.

★ And if you got to the bottom of this post, please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment! It helps me know you like what I share with you, and fuels me to share more ★

[staycalmandhugaclone]

Ode to Artists Pt 1

Part (1) of Ode to Artists, the next arc of Doc's Misadventures! If you're new, start at the beginning with Touch Starved!

Am I well past when I was supposed to finish my Bingo sheet? Yup. Am I still counting this one toward the "Bed" prompt? Also yup. I meant for this to just be a one-parter, but I just can't write those... so it'll be 2 or 3 parts of mostly (emphasis on mostly) fluff before we get into the next whump-tastic arcs I have planned. (Also, after my appointment today, the midwives say I could literally go anytime from tomorrow to 5 weeks from now, soooo if I vanish for a bit... well, you'll know why)

Warnings: This arc will mostly be fluffy stuff, but there will be references to past torture here and there. This one has some flashbacks, profanity, and loads of emotions like guilt, fear, anger, and general angst, as well some brief mention of wanting to die (not SI - with relation to ending torture), and I supposed some dependency

WC: 3,405

Rough Mando'a translation:

hut’uunla chakaaryc - coward and a rotten, low-life, (considered worst possible insult)

When we’re children and we first learn that the sky is endless, when we’re told of the countless lives beyond that stunning blue and the thousands of planets that we’ll never visit; when we’re first taught that the impossibly distant stars who’s lights danced in the darkness of night had died and been reborn long before we’d ever glimpsed them, and we discover just how small we are amidst an existence that would live on unchanged in spite of our hopes and dreams and fears, unmoved by our short lives and inevitable deaths; when we’re children and these harsh truths rob us of that innocent sense of invulnerability and infinite potential innate in the brilliance of youth, there is a wound that is dealt in the wake of that revelation regardless if the words are spoken with unapologetic honesty or gentle wonder, and those wounds may scar or they may fester, but they never fully fade.

I remembered when I learned how big the galaxy was. I didn’t feel that loss then. At the time, I’d felt inspired, enamored by the vast stretches of possibilities I’d never before considered and lightened beneath the new sense of freedom granted by those possibilities, but I felt those scars now.

Used bandages lay forgotten in small piles atop the medbay counter as my eyes stared blindly at the still pink bands encircling my wrists, fingertips just whispering over the newly knit skin. The freshly formed nerves shuddered beneath that delicate touch, unaccustomed, yet, to even gentle sensation. I hadn’t seen the damage wrought by how violently I’d thrashed against those restraints, not until after Comet had done his best to clean and sow them back together, and bacta gel had regrown most of what surely still dirtied a floor already coated with too much blood, but I could imagine it. For the scars to still shine so starkly against the unmarried flesh beside it, I didn’t doubt how near I’d come to severing tendon and exposing bone, and the simple fact that I could remember no sense of pain beyond the panic of drowning held its own morbid wonder.

It was as I stared unseeing at those scars, thoughts coming and going absent a moment’s true consideration, that I felt small. I’d never known fear could cut so deeply, that the body was capable of such terror, and yet I’d suffered beneath it for so long as the worlds around me continued in blissful ignorance. Children played as I screamed. New lovers relished the touch of another as I died. Stars were born as I begged for everything to end, and yet I now stood in the same room of the Marauder that I’d lived in for well over a year. The air still held the stale taste of too many rotations through the recyclers. The engines hummed with that same subtle rumble fading into the ambiance of the occasional beep of an alarm, and beyond the door, if I bothered to listen, I was sure I’d hear Wrecker’s boisterous voice or catch a sharp retort from Crosshair.

Even in that haze of wandering memories, my heart still leapt at the thought of him. He’d refused to let me so much as change my own bandages during the week we’d remained on the Negotiator. What arguments I’d tried to offer failed beneath the gentleness of his touch, the way his eyes hardened and his lithe body curled over mine. It didn’t feel possessive. It felt safe, and that was far too precious to refuse. Between those moments, however, I’d rarely seen him.

Only after noting his absence for several days did I learn that he kept vanishing to the training rooms, seeking anyone foolish enough or brave enough to spar and ensuring what minor injuries he sustained had been tended long before returning to my side. I wanted to talk to him about it but found myself unable to force the question past my lips, too worried that I already knew the answer to risk asking, because what could I say if he was fighting as a means of distracting himself from everything I wasn’t yet willing to speak of? If he felt driven to escape a helplessness I knew too well, a helplessness he only felt because of me? It had been something of a relief to get word of our latest assignment if only to break that routine.

With my wounds now all but healed and the lot of us en route to Alderaan, some semblance of normalcy was finally beginning to return. Friendly bickering again flowed between the brothers, free of that tension that had made my heart twist since Devaron, and no one shot away to hide the instant the medbay door opened or purposefully avoided eye contact if we were in the same room. It wasn’t perfect, but it was better. That return to normalcy, however, brought with it a quiet I wished I could appreciate, but the thoughts it granted freedom to were ones that robbed me of breath and left me staggering amidst memories I couldn’t force back.

“Doc?” My attention snapped away from those lingering scars, chest hitching in a small gasp at the suddenness with which that daze fled me. Echo stood barely a handful of steps away, brows draw lightly together above eyes full of the beginnings of worry. I hadn’t noticed the hiss of the door opening or closing, hadn’t heard whatever initial greeting he’d offered as he entered. Had he asked me something? How long had he been speaking before falling silent at the realization that I wasn’t even aware of his presence?

“Sorry, Echo; guess I got a bit lost in thought.” I said softly with a gentle smile that did little to chase the concern from his gaze. “What did you say?” He hesitated a moment, jaw tensing, and I couldn’t help but fear I’d missed something vital in whatever words he’d spoken while my mind had floated absent intent.

“Just… wondered if you’d eaten yet? Figured I’d grab you something since I was headed there anyway.” My heart sank at the offer, certain that had nothing to do with why he’d really come here, but the tentative truce between us was still too delicate to strain beneath blunt questions. I turned my attention back to the counter, using the excuse of gathering the discarded cloth to hide the threat of disappointment from my gaze.

“Probably a good idea.” I sighed despite how unappealing one of those flavorless bars sounded. “I’m finished here, anyway, so I’ll come with you.” A stranger wouldn’t have noticed the tension steal through him, the delay preceding that forced smile. A close friend wouldn’t have hesitated to address them. I noticed and said nothing, caught in the lingering uncertainty of where we stood, terrified that I might push him away again with one poorly chosen word.

“Have you reviewed the mission brief, yet?” He asked, vying for some attempt at nonchalance as we started from the medbay. I nodded, still a bit confused by it. We were making a delivery to the governing body. Given the relatively safe location of the planet, using a squad with the immaculate record Hunter and his brothers boasted made little sense. Echo let out a small chuckle at my expression, and my heart leapt at the sound.

“I think Cody sent us on this one as a bit of a break.” I didn’t fight the look of surprise that drew my attention back to him, though the darkness that followed left me turning away just as quickly. He was babying us because of me… sending us as a glorified delivery service. I wasn’t sure if I was grateful for the reprieve or enraged at how badly I needed just that: a respite from the unending horrors of this nightmare of a war.

“I don’t think he meant it as an insult.” At that, a quick huff escaped me, cheeks warming from how effortlessly he read me.

“I think he meant it as an olive branch more than anything.” I retorted, pleased to glimpse the smirk those words brought to his lips.

“Or an excuse to get Crosshair off his ship as soon as possible.” He mused, voice lowering as he leaned subtly closer to me, and I found myself biting back a string of laughter at his conspiratory tone.

I wasn’t surprised to find Wrecker in the small kitchette as we entered, a few empty wrappers already littering the table with a third already half eaten. His eyes lit up when he saw us.

“Did he tell you?!” The vibrant excitement in his voice was almost enough to make me hesitate, eyes flicking back to Echo for a moment.

“I’m going to guess not yet?” I replied, brow hitching expectantly. The arc didn’t bother even trying to explain before his brother jumped to his feet.

“They got this celebration tomorrow on Alderaan! Tech says they only do it every five years!” He purged the news in a loud, eager rush of glee that I was helpless against, lips instantly drawing up into a broad grin.

“Tomorrow? Are going to make it?” A quiet whisper of fear coiled in my chest, images of too many strange faces milling about overly pretentious floors as music danced through the air, but I refused to grant it purchase in the wake of Wrecker’s delight.

“Yup! Hunter even said we’d have the whole night to see it while the ship gets fueled up!”

“It’s outside,” Echo added softly, and I couldn’t quite meet his gaze despite how my body automatically shifted toward him, too aware of what prompted him to offer the gentle reassurance. “Up in the mountains.” Alderaan’s snowy peaks were renowned for their timeless beauty, and the knowledge that we wouldn’t be confined to some inescapable prison veiled in the guise of splendor and finery proved the perfect balm to the quickening of my heartbeat.

“We’ll have to bundle you up with a couple extra layers.” I didn’t doubt that he heard the gratitude warming my words as I finally found the strength to look at him, and the kindness in those eyes shown untainted by the distance that still haunted us.

“Pretty sure I’ll be thawing out the whole trip back regardless how many sets of blacks I put on.” He grumbled, but there was no heat to the complaint. I offered a sympathetic smile and bumped my shoulder lightly against his chest before treading further into the small room to retrieve some rations for us.

“Did Tech mention what all we might expect at this event?” I knew Wrecker would have seen through the subtleties of how Echo eased that fear from me; knew he’d likely understood the instant my gaze first turned away from him, just as I knew he understood the true reason behind my question, and I loved him for how readily he answered my unspoken plea for a distraction as he raptly described what he remembered of Tech’s earlier explanation: of the group of artists that had lived and died centuries prior, but who’s works of Alderaan’s beauty became so renowned throughout the galaxy as to alter the very fate of the planet, inspiring countless others to seek out those natural landscapes to witness that beauty for themselves. He spoke of the promise of endless venders offering unique food and drink and all manner of goods, and he drew no attention to why I sat so quietly beside him, why I failed to respond with my usual glee to his animated retelling, but he was not silent in the face of my stillness, powerful body shifting ever so subtly about mine, hand gentle in every brief touch that somehow never lasted too long, and I couldn’t bring myself to feel anything but relief at his unspoken offer for a comfort that was so soft as to barely be noticeably beyond the unwavering sense of safety it granted me.

It was late. Offensively late. The medbay lay illuminated in the faint glow of a monitor I hadn’t been able to bring myself to turn off, knowing what darkness awaited me the instant I flicked that switch, what terrors lingered in the shadows vying for any excuse to strike. Crosshair had said nothing about it as he shifted atop my bed, groggily holding the blanket open with feigned impatience, but I couldn’t dismiss that flare of shame at yielding to that fear. The instant I settled into him, however, the warmth that enveloped me as he fit himself perfectly around my too tense form and let out that deep, quiet sigh of contentment robbed me of all thought beyond the feeling of his chest dancing with unhurried breaths against my back, the strength of his arms holding me with a covetous need, and I’d found myself drifting into a far kinder sleep that I had any right to hope for.

I loathed the unknown disturbance drawing me from that gentle slumber, jaw tensing beneath an attempt at denial that I might simply ignore whatever it was and slip back into that blessed nothingness. Crosshair lay perfectly limp against me, face tucked into my hair with that precious stillness of sleep. Resigned to a late-night visit to the privy, I reluctantly tried to slip away from him, laughter threatening to bubble past pursed lips at the tiny groan that escaped him as his arms tightened petulantly around me, but he showed no signs of waking as I finally managed to detangle myself from his embrace.

Footsteps as near to silent as I could manage, I tread carefully down the hall, tiptoeing past the bunkroom, though only Wrecker and Echo lay within, both far too lost to their own blissful sleep to note my movements. It wasn’t until I’d nearly reached the privy door that something on the very edge of perception left my blood running cold. I couldn’t say what it was, not yet, but my body seemed drawn toward it, wide eyes locked on the fore of the ship as my legs carried me forward despite the sudden urge to flee.

Even after some recognition began to note the sound of broken gasps amidst free-flowing water, I couldn’t bring myself to stop. There was a haunted sense of familiarity in the way I watched myself move through the ship; in the automated motions I didn’t have the presence of mind to even try to stop.

“…severe forms of torture.” There was a weight to that normally clinical voice; a dread that even he couldn’t fully suppress.

“Tech.” Hunter’s hushed voice barely registered as he turned sharply to face me, but I couldn’t focus on him. I hadn’t even noticed myself climb down the ladder into the cockpit.

“Who ordered the hit?!” I don’t remember when that man’s voice had filled with such anger.

“It’s rare for anyone to endure longer than a couple minutes… what she went through”

“Tech!” Hunter barked, finally ripping his brother’s attention from the audio clip. I didn’t see the look in his eyes as he followed Hunter’s gaze toward me.

“Just tell me who planted the kriffing bomb!”

“I don’t know!” It didn’t sound like my voice. It was enraged and terrified and ruined by hours of screaming. Hunter’s hand flared toward Tech, but he sat frozen – caught – as I approached on strides faltering beneath the tremble just beginning to steal through me.

“That’s krayt spit, and you kriffing know it! Who ordered the hit?!” Part of me wanted to be impressed at how clear the recording was, mind eager to detach from the rush of liquid that followed my every response, the way my lungs panicked and burned with the afterimage of that agony.

“Just kill me, you hut’uunla chakaaryc!” I’d heard Warthog say that once… even Wolffe had been taken aback, and only Sinker would tell me what it meant when I’d asked. That man surely had no idea what I’d called him, but the violent slap that tore from the speakers followed by the seemingly endless flood of water and desperate coughs left no uncertainty that he’d fathomed a guess.

“…Doc.” My hand was reaching out, senses dulled to all but the echoes of my nightmares screaming with such haunting clarity from the speakers, deaf to Hunter’s quiet call.

“Who was behind the attack?!”

“I don’t know!!” That voice was sobbing and screaming and so utterly broken.

My fingertips barely brushed the console before the recording stopped, but I could still hear it… the gush of water… I could feel it’s chill tear the warmth from my flesh; felt it flooding my mouth and nose… and I felt that undeniable, visceral fear of death creeping through me.

Hunter shifted hesitantly toward me, but I merely shook my head. The movement was so slight, I barely felt it, but it instantly left him frozen, shoulders sinking beneath emotions I was still far too raw to try to name.

Without a word, I stepped away from them, away from whatever apologies or questions or murmured reassurances might be festering atop their tongues, my eyes still staring blindly at the endless buttons and switches decorating the console, and when I turned away, when I began to leave in the same silence in which I’d arrived, neither could bring themselves to try calling out again.

Any other night, I would have cringed at the thought of waking him. I would have strained myself to slip back into his embrace as carefully as possible, breath held in my chest until I was sure my intrusion hadn’t robbed him of that empty sleep, but I could spare little thought toward such things. He was warm. And he was safe. And I didn’t bother to even slide beneath the blanket before pressing myself against him.

Crosshair’s torso swelled with a sharp inhale, brows drawing together with some mixture of annoyance and confusion, but then he went still. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him, body curling into his as though I might hide from the memories still raging through my mind. He studied me for mere seconds before shifting in careful, unhurried movements, one arm slipping beneath me to wrap around my shoulders while he brought his other hand up to just whisper against my cheek, the unspoken question clear in that tender gesture.

Again, I felt my head give the slightest shake, unable to offer anything more. His thumb trailed the ridge of my cheekbone, touch featherlight, before letting his hand brush gently through my hair to rest against the back of my neck, holding me with just enough force for me to feel his strength, and a shuttered exhale escaped me that left us both clinging just that much harder to each other.

He didn’t speak throughout the night, but the occasional dance of his fingers or touch of his lips in something too gentle to be called a kiss reassured me that he was still awake, still holding me until that tension began to slip away. I don’t know how long we laid there, letting the minutes and hours pass in that perfect quiet, but when I finally heard the steady thrum of his heartbeat over those horrid screams, I wanted to sob. I wanted to shout beneath the disdain I felt toward myself and the apologies I didn’t have the strength to voice. I wanted to tell him that he could leave; that I wouldn’t blame him for needing to separate himself from the mess I’d become, but I couldn’t stop my grasp from tightening around his shirt at the very thought, and when he responded without hesitation, when his arms nearly crushed me against him, I abandoned even the memory of fear that he’d want me to grant him that escape.

In the morning, I’d thank him. In the morning, I’d try to offer some manner of an explanation that he was long past due, but for what few hours still remained in that façade of night that meant nothing in the emptiness of space, I let myself give in to the simple need for his presence and the quiet it granted me. I let myself be weak that I might find solace in his strength, and I let myself love him with every atom of my being for the selflessness of his comfort.

Next Chapter

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[221bshrlocked]

Keep Your Religion

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x Jedi AFAB!Reader

Words: 7630

Warnings: 18+ only. Starts off angsty then gets to the smut. Softer than usual Wolffe because that man would be madly in love when he finds his special someone. Lots of Kissing. Possessive Behavior/Words. Dirty/Sweet Talk..but mostly Sweet. Exhibitionism Kink if you like squint! Oral Sex (female receiving). Penetrative, Unprotected Sex (wrap the shlong before you king kong my dudes). Slight Breeding Kink. Wolffe is insatiable yall!

Summary: You try to end things with Wolffe because you fear your relationship will end badly due to the rules set in place for the Jedi and the Clones. Wolffe convinces you otherwise.

A/N: Can you believe I finished another fic? Neither can I. It was about time for another Wolffe fic so here you go my lovely humans. I hope you enjoy. Comments are always always always appreciated so let me know how I'm doing please and thank you. I do apologize that I'm not tagging, it hasn't been working for some reason since post editor changed permanently to this new looking editor. I'll try to figure it out I swear! P.S. this is the second of hopefully many more submissions for @clonexreaderbingo

Something about seeing him so relaxed and loose tugged at the strings of your heart. It was a rare sight, one you thought he would only grace you with when the two of you are alone together. But here he was, throwing back whatever shit drink the bar offered him and his brothers, all the while smiling at Cody’s remark about the new shinies embarrassing themselves in front of Anakin and Obi-Wan. You’re nursing your own drink in the corner, trying to find the best possible way to approach the booth without making a scene. He’d told you before that almost everyone close to him knew of your relationship, but you felt weird about dropping the pretenses. You were his boss, after all. Well, not completely his boss, but a commanding officer regardless. If you started acting extra friendly, you’re not sure how the rest of the Wolfpack would take it. 

As you swirl the spotchka around, you suddenly feel like someone is watching you, hunting you even. There’s only one man who’s ever made you feel so heated and just as you look up from the glass in your hand towards the group of Clones you were previously studying, you notice Wolffe staring you down, the slightest hint of a smirk flashing at you in an attempt to get you to react to his attention. 

Normally, you’d enjoy the subtle flirtatious expressions, even tease him a little to get a rise out of him before escaping to the nearest room to lure him for a private moment. Or, as private a moment as 79’s can offer a Jedi Master and a Commander of the Grand Republic Army. 

But tonight was different. Tonight, you came out to the Clone bar to decide the best way to end things with Wolffe. It was the last thing you wanted to do, but you didn’t want to push your luck any further. Things were getting worse by the hour, and you couldn’t afford losing Wolffe all because some assholes in the Senate didn’t think he deserved to love or to be loved by someone. Then there was the matter of the Jedi Council, and how strict they were becoming. It was already frowned upon before the war, and it only took a few months into this galactic conflict for them to push their ideologies even harder on everyone at the Temple. 

You would never forgive yourself if they punished him simply because you couldn’t stand being far away from him any longer. You narrow your eyes at Wolffe and down the rest of your drink, disappointed in yourself for not having the guts to tell him earlier. 

And for knowing that you probably wouldn’t be able to do it tonight. 

The smile on his face drops instantly when he notices you avoiding his gaze, and you curse yourself for ruining his night. It was going so well, and one look at you made the worry return to his mind again. 

Clutching your robes tightly, you pay the bartender quickly before excusing yourself and heading towards the bathrooms in the back. You could feel the tears threaten to spill down your cheeks and the last thing you wished for is for someone to see you and make a huge fuss about it. As you push through the crowd, you feel those same pair of eyes hold you down harshly, as if they were refusing you permission to leave without confronting them. 

Quickly wiping your eyes, you push open the doors and turn around to lock them behind you, only to nearly bump into the chest of the man you were hoping to avoid tonight. You gulp nervously, and before you can say anything, Wolffe tilts his head to the side and studies you closely, his eyes roaming down your body to see if anything needs his immediate attention. 

When he finds nothing out of the ordinary, he takes a step closer to you and shuts the door behind him, not bothering to lock it as he continues to back you up until you hit the wall. 

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re trying to avoid me.” His gaze is direct, unfaltering in the haze of lust he was sending you under. You furrow your eyebrows and try to look anywhere else but him, but as always, he doesn’t give you the easy way out. Grabbing the bottom of your chin, he turns you until you have no choice but to look straight into his eyes and respond. 

“What if I was?” You’re not sure what pushes you to say something so defensive, but the chuckle it gets out of him makes you realize you had already lost whatever game he was playing with you. 

“I’d say you should have gone to another bar.” He’s right. You know this, and he definitely knows this too. The ease with which he continues to have an effect on you would normally be welcomed, but you’re pissed at him. Pissed for being so weak for him. For not bothering to put up a fight. 

“But here you are…at the one place you knew I was coming to tonight.” Wolffe leans down and nudges your temple with his nose, breathing in the scent of your sweat and perfume, and forcing you to reach for him so you don’t topple over from the sheer amount of control he has on you. 

“So tell me mesh’la, what have I done to deserve the cold shoulder?” He whispers the question in your ear, slowly sliding his hands down your body until they reach your waist. You’re having a difficult time breathing, and you moan his name as you throw your head back when he squeezes your hips and pushes his chest impossibly closer into your own. 

“I- you didn’t…it,” you can’t form a coherent sentence, let alone a sensical thought, when you’re so overwhelmed by his presence alone. You thought he would laugh at you, but when his breathing becomes nearly as erratic as your own, you understand that he was genuinely trying to figure out if he’s done something wrong. His methods seldom changed, and you weren’t surprised that he was trying to get you to talk by touching you as intimately as possible without tearing your clothes off. 

“Don’t tell me I did nothing wrong…sir. Something must have happened, or else you would be begging me to have my way with you right now. So what is it? What have I done?” Wolffe repeats again, making you feel guilty for your behavior and for what you’ve been thinking of doing since the last time you were together. You remind yourself that he deserves someone better, someone who wouldn’t compromise his position in the GAR all because of their messed-up religion. He deserved so much more than you. 

And the mere mention of your rank made it worse.

“W-Wolffe, I umm, I can’t do this anymore.” You know this was the last thing he expected you to say because in the blink of an eye, he’s removing himself from you completely and putting space between your shaking body and his own wound up chest. When you muster up the courage to look into his eyes, a shiver courses down your spine. 

It has been so long since he’s given you such a look, one that was filled with nothing but suspicion and guardedness. He’s quiet for longer than you like, and when you reach for him in an attempt to console him, his frown deepens and he twitches away from you. You hadn’t expected such a reaction to hurt this much, but it does, and like before, you have no control over the stream of tears rolling down your chin. Again, it’s not what he expects to witness from you, certainly not after what you just declared to him, and when you sniffle to get yourself under control, he closes the space between you more aggressively than before, slamming his hands on both sides of your face and clenching his jaws tightly when he sees you pouting at him. 

“I don’t know what I’ve done, I don’t. But I’m sorry regardless. I am so very sorry. Whatever it is, we can talk it out. It’s not worth throwing away all that we have. Please. Just- krifff…tell me what it is I have done, and I will get down on my knees right now and beg for your forgiveness. But don’t do this, don’t give up on us.” In all your time knowing Wolffe, you’ve never once heard him speak with such a tone. He was always assertive, confident and unwavering in his commanding presence. 

But the only thing you could feel now is his fear. 

“You did nothing wrong, it’s me…it’s all me Wolffe.” You know this won’t be enough for him, but you try to convince him regardless. Then he drops his head against your shoulder and you know you won’t be able to hold out much longer. 

“I wasn’t born yesterday sweetheart. If you’ve ever held an ounce of respect for me, you’ll tell me what I did wrong. You owe me that much. I- I deserve to know.” If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was close to breaking down as well. 

“I do Wolffe, I respect you…more than anyone. You have to know that.” You hope he doesn’t turn away when you reach for him again, and as you cup his cheeks in the palms of your hands to raise his attention to you, you’re met with an expression you never thought you’d see on his features. 

“You haven’t done anything baby, it’s me. It’s…all me.” If you were a better person, you would have been consistent in your tone with him, but seeing him so torn down broke you, and you couldn’t not soothe him the way you always did whenever he comes back from a particularly difficult mission. 

“You deserve someone better Wolffe, someone who would never compromise your safety. Being with me is- it’s getting dangerous. The Council is becoming more strict…the Senate even worse. If they court martial you because you’re with me, I- I don’t know what I would do.” There’s something so gut-wrenching about the way he refuses to look away from your moving lips, and when you stop talking, he doesn’t blink once, his cybernetic eye focusing in and out before slowly blinking along with the other.

“Someone better?” It’s clear that he’s still hurt by the word vomit you threw at him, but whereas his voice showed it earlier, the shakiness and reluctance is gone now, replaced with a menacing, almost angry tone that you were too familiar with, one that you’ve witnessed during battle when his orders weren’t obeyed immediately. 

“I can’t give you what you want Wolffe, not without hurting you eventually…unintentionally. My- my religion, it’s becoming a threat to your well-being. It’s not worth the hassle. I am not worth the hassle. You could do so much better than-” Whatever you’re about to say gets lost in the damp air of the room as soon as Wolffe decides he’s heard enough of what was on your mind. He grips your neck tightly, winding his other arm around your back and violently pulling you into his embrace as he swallows your surprised shrieks. Your frown deepens for another moment before you surrender yourself to the possessive kiss, and Wolffe must feel you melting into his arms because he growls against your lips and claims your tongue without remorse. 

His hold on you only grows stronger when he feels your arms move to wrap around his neck, and when he’s sure you’re trying to get closer to him and not push him away, he tilts his head to the side and deepens the kiss, not caring for how messy or aggressive he’s being with you as he shoves his tongue past your lips and reminds you of what you could be missing if you got what you wanted and left him. 

As the need for air becomes difficult to ignore, Wolffe breaks the kiss and gives the two of you a moment of respite. When he opens his eyes and finds your orbs glistening with unshed tears, he swears beneath his breath and lunges for you again, the hand around your throat loosening for a fraction of a second before tightening around your jugular and forcing you to accept his rejection of your wishes. You moan into the kiss, allowing him to take whatever he wants from you, knowing that he wasn’t going to allow you to go through with whatever it is you thought you could get away with tonight. When he’s content with the reactions of your mind and body to his touch, 

“You nearly broke my heart, ner runi. Don’t ever say that to me again!” Wolffe refuses to let go of you, afraid you’d leave the room thinking that he agreed to the sentiment you dropped on him a second ago. When you say nothing in return, he shakes his head and crushes you into his arms, nuzzling into your neck and breathing you in to attempt and calm his nerves. He prays that you give him some form of an answer that confirms your understanding of what he just said, but when you don’t, Wolffe sighs heavily and pulls back enough to take a better look at you. 

“Wolffe, we need to talk ab-” Again, he doesn’t care for what you have to say and cuts you off, letting you know that this was definitely the end of the conversation. 

“No, we’re done talking. You can keep your religion sweetheart, I couldn’t care less for its consequences…but don’t you fucking dare and ask me to abandon mine.” His voice is firm, the familiar unyielding articulation confirming to you that he’s already made up his mind on the matter. There would be no more on the matter. 

As much as you hate to admit it, it feels like a bantha has lifted one of its feet off your chest. You look into his eyes and find them filled with a more familiar emotion, one that kept you going ever since you confessed your feelings to him. You thought it would be difficult to get him to accept your proposition, but you realize then and there that it was definitely harder for you to come to terms with your initial thoughts. 

You slowly smile at him, and it must be what Wolffe needs to hear to forget the last few minutes because his touches become less crazed and more soothing, a level of intimacy you’re always yearning for when the two of you are away from each other for too long. 

“And what...what is your religion?” You barely find the attention span to ask, the familiarity of his touch and his voice sending you down a spiral of lust-filled thoughts that only increased the longer Wolffe remained in your presence. 

“Your body is my religion cyar’ika, and I’m not planning on losing my faith any time soon.” The confession is lewd, mostly because he’s using your weakness to drive the message home. But as dirty as the admission sounded on his lips, you couldn’t help but sink into his embrace, wanting to hear more of him so you could forget about why you were here in the first place. 

“Is that s-so?” You’re practically shaking in his arms, and Wolffe uses your momentary distraction to tug your robes apart and leave a trail of kisses down your neck to where he wanted to bite you most. 

“Yeah,” he licks at your skin, wishing with all his heart he could have you right then and there. It’s not as if the two of you haven’t fucked at 79’s before. He just knew that you both needed something more, something that he can only accomplish in the privacy of his rooms. 

“Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to excuse myself for the night, tell the boys I have to finish reports for the General.” He slips a hand underneath the edge of your shirt, drawing circles on your waist until you slowly begin to roll your hips into him. 

“Ahuh,” you’re not really paying attention to what he’s saying, your body already frozen with anticipation now that it felt his hands and his tongue leaving marks across it again. 

“Focus,” he squeezes your ass, shaking it twice to get you to open your eyes and look past the haze to obey his next commands. 

“Yes sir.” You bite into your lip and giggle when he narrows his eyes at you and mumbles something about punishing you for being a tease. 

“You’re going to leave shortly after, something about being needed back at the Temple.” Your stomach twists in knots when you realize he’s using his ‘Commander’ voice on you, and you can’t help but wrap your arms around his neck and mold your lips with his own when you remember the last time he used that same tone on you. 

What a night it was. 

“And where w-will I actually be going?” You ask as soon as Wolffe pulls you away and breaks the kiss. 

“My room baby, where you’ll stay for the rest of the night.” He says matter of factly, as if you shouldn’t even be asking his such a question. 

“Pray tell, Commander. What will we be doing that- oh kriff, that will require me to spend the night in your quarters?” You throw your head back when his hand slithers up your body and cups your breast through your Jedi robes. You can almost feel the heat radiating off the palm of his hand, and the harder he gropes you through your clothes, the more you wish he would just push you down on all fours and fuck you into oblivion. 

“Well, I don’t know about you sweetheart, but I’ll be practicing my faith...and worshiping every inch of your body until the only thing you can feel is me.” The smirk on his face would be menacing if you weren’t so used to it by now, and you gasp lightly when he leans down and bites the skin of your shoulder peeking from beneath your cloak. 

“Oh gods-”

“That’s it, moan for me cyar’ika. I want the whole fucking bar to know who makes you feel good.” Wolffe shoves your thighs apart and pushes his leg in between, slowly moving you back and forth on him to give you a preview of what’s to come tonight. 

“Wolffe, please. I need you.” You fall forward against his chest, whining for him as he continues to move you across his thigh and dares you to come from such a simple touch. 

“Oh, now you need me?” You know he’s joking without looking at him, but the question throws you off guard and you snap your gaze up to see if he was hurt by what you said previously. 

“I- I didn’t…I’m sorry.”

“None of that.” Wolffe shakes his head, not wanting to ruin the moment by something so trivial. He slows down his touches but keeps you moving on him, hoping to distract you long enough to make this night a little better for the both of you. 

“Wolffe,” you call for him again, not in warning but in desperation, hoping that he can see how sorry you are for ever doubting what the two of you had. 

“That was cruel of me, forgive me sweetheart.” His voice is soft, so much sweeter than before, and you’re reminded by how quickly his mood changes whenever he senses you’re upset or angry. 

“How could you ask that when I am the one who hurt you?” You should drop it, everything that he’s done is proof that you should let this go and get back to more important matters, but you can’t stop yourself from asking him, wanting to know why he’s always so patient and caring with you when he was the one who deserved better. 

“You didn’t hurt me, cyare.”

“I did, I- I almost…”

“You could never hurt me, little one. Never.” Like before, he doesn’t care for whatever you have to say, not because he doesn’t value your words, but because he knows how difficult your relationship with him probably weighs on your mind. 

Even from the beginning. 

You study him for what feels like hours but is probably only seconds. And you wonder how anyone could ever think him cruel and rude when he was so loving and unbelievably long-suffering. Without warning, you throw yourself at him, mirroring his actions from before and shoving your mouth against his own to feel grounded. He doesn’t waste a second, pushing you harder against the wall and sucking on your tongue until you were a moaning mess in his embrace. 

“F-fuck, if you keep that up, I won’t- kriff, I won’t hold back.” Wolffe rests his forehead against yours, trying to keep himself in check so he doesn’t end up embarrassing the two of you by what his body is willing to do. 

“Then don’t!”

“You want me to fuck you right here, where anyone can walk in and see you getting filled with my cock?” He shouldn’t be surprised by how wanton you are, and although he knows he should step away and put some space between you and him, he can’t help but retort with his own teasing comment. 

“Please Commander.” You lean up and kiss his jugular, nipping at the skin just above his armor and soothing it with another kiss before laying your head back and meeting his intense gaze. 

“Always playing dirty. Just for that, you’ll have to wait.” Wolffe clears his throat and eyes you up and down before taking a few steps back. He barely manages to hold back from laughing when you stumble forward and nearly lose your footing. You’re about to complain when he raises a hand and silences you, furrowing his eyebrows at you in an attempt to look intimidating. 

“Another word, and I won’t give you my cock tonight.” He warns calmly, smirking immediately when you shake your head and tell him you’ll be good.

“No please, I’ll stop. I’ll behave, I swear.” 

“You’ll behave-?” The question trails until the room is silent again and you know instantly what you said wrong. 

“Commander.” You whisper to him as you try to fix your clothes and hair so you don’t look like you were fucked against a wall by the Commander of the 104th Battalion. You don’t dare smile at him, afraid he’d misunderstand the gesture for another one of your teasing expressions and completely throw the night away. 

“Good girl, now do as you’re told and I promise to reward you.” He watches you saunter past him and before you unlock the door, he smacks your ass quite harshly, watching you closely to see if you were going to behave or retort like you usually do. 

“Yes, sir.” You don’t dare give into his tricks, hoping to get through the next hour or so without getting distracted, or worse…caught. 

“Off you go.” He gestures for you to leave before him, and when you’re no longer in sight, he shuts his eyes and sighs in relief. Wolffe is not sure how the two of you got to where you are now, but considering the fact that he expected something like this to happen since you got together, he’s relieved that it was for reasons different from what his mind conjured up all those nights he spent alone in his bed. 

You walk out and move towards the bar again, your eyes roaming across the busy bar and waiting until Wolffe walks out before you make sure that no one noticed the two of you together. He follows you soon after, finding you almost instantly and winking at you before he heads towards his men. You watch as he tells Sinker to give him his helmet, and you assume they all roll their eyes not a second later because he told them he needed to get some paperwork done. 

But as soon as Cody looks at you, he knows what Wolffe is planning on doing, and before you can turn away from him, he raises his glass and smiles at you before downing the rest of his drink. You should be embarrassed at being seen, but something about the way the Commander gestures at you makes you smile, as if he was telling you that he hoped the two of you are okay. You shake your head at him and throw your hood up, walking to the Commander of the 21st Nova Corps to let him know you’ll be leaving earlier tonight. 

“Ah General, I was wondering when you’ll be joining us.” You smile at Commander Bacara and the boys, giving them a few credits to let them know the next two rounds were on you. 

“Sorry Bacara, I’m calling it early tonight. Needed back at the Temple!” You feel bad for lying to him, but as always, he doesn’t ask for an elaboration, telling you that he hopes you don’t have to do too much paperwork while you’re still on break. 

“See you later,” you nod at him and the others when they salute you, and just as you walk out of the bar, you vaguely hear them yell for the droid making its rounds to get them a round of quanya. 

“Hmm, didn’t peg them for the type.” You mutter to yourself as you step out into the chilly Coruscant air, looking around to see if Wolffe was anywhere to be seen or if he has already left. When you don’t sense his Force signature nearby, you make your way towards the speeder bike Anakin lent you and bring it to life, trying your best to contain yourself so you wouldn’t be caught by another Jedi nearby. 

You make your way through the streets as quickly as possible, and when you make it to the Temple, you park the bike nearby and think of the best way to make it through the barracks without being seen by any of the Masters…or Commanders. 

It’s not the first time you entered the barracks, and under normal circumstances, it wouldn’t be strange to see a Jedi making their way through the hallways. But it was nearly midnight, and you weren’t sure you could lie your way through a question if you were caught before you made it to Wolffe’s quarters. You’re about to reach out to the Force to see if anyone is awake when you hear footsteps approaching you from behind. The familiarity of its warmness sets your mind at ease, and you take a deep breath before you turn to face him. 

“Commander.”

“General, is there something I can help you with?” He’s putting on a show for the surveillance cameras, and you clear your throat before you tell him something about wanting to review the plans for the next mission. 

“Very well,” he’s curt in his response, and you get the sense that he may be avoidant because he has about as much control around you as you do whenever you so much as hear the mention of his name. 

“Thank you, Commander Wolffe.” He nearly falters in his steps at hearing you call his name, and he swears beneath his breath as a way of warning. You nearly smile at his reaction, but you remember how closely the guards watch the cameras and you choose to switch your attention to the ground. Not another word passes between the two of you, and as you reach his room, you feel your heart threaten to leap out of your chest at the prospect of finally spending a night with him. 

Up until now, the two of you had to make do with stolen moments and short breaks, whether on missions or back here. Neither of you have ever spent the night alone, and you find it fitting that tonight would be it. It’s comforting and nerve-wrecking all at once, and as soon as you step into his quarters, you allow yourself to take in the calm before the storm. 

Before the door slides completely shut, Wolffe is on you like a moth to a flame, nearly ripping your clothes off of your body as he pushes you down onto his bed. 

“W-Wolffe, I-” You try to ask him why he’s so frantic and crazed all of a sudden but he lets go of you and stands to his height, making quick work of his armor in record time all the while keeping you still with the mere look in his eyes. 

“I can’t do slow tonight, can’t wait another fucking second without having you.” You always admired how much care he puts into his armor whenever he’s taking it off or putting it back on, so seeing him drop each pass to the ground sends a zap of lightning down your spine. 

You mirror his actions without another word, throwing your boots and socks away before struggling to take your pants off. Moments later, you feel the bed dip once Wolffe crawls towards you, his muscles flexing in such a menacing way that makes you fall back into the sheets and wait for him to tell you what to do next. 

But then he says nothing, and you’re torn between asking him what he needs from you and letting you do whatever the fuck he wants. He reaches for the edge of your pants and tugs them right down your legs, not once blinking as he violently takes your sweater off and throws it somewhere behind him. You’re left in nothing but your undergarments, and as you twist your arms to take your bra off, Wolffe shoves your thighs apart and makes space for himself in between. 

“I need you, now.” His voice should terrify you, it should be enough of a warning for what he has in store for you. But you find it exhilarating, knowing that only you could get him to lose this much control. You try to reach for him, wanting to feel his skin beneath the tips of your fingers, but Wolffe shakes his head and grabs both of your wrists in one hand, slamming them above your head and tightening the hold he has on them while he slithers his other hand down your nude body. 

“If it were up to me mesh’la, I’d tie you to this fucking bed and have my way with you whenever I want. I’d- kriff, I’d fill you with my cum every minute of every fucking day…so everyone would know you’re mine…so they know that I’m yours.” He teases you through your panties, rubbing lazy circles across the damp spot quickly becoming larger. 

“Wolffe, please…take me.” You whine his name in desperation, hoping he’d finally give you his cock and end your misery. 

“I swear to the maker sweet girl, I’m going to fuck you all night long…kiss every inch of you, mark you with my teeth and hands until you’re my very own altar. I’m going to worship you baby, but only if you promise me one thing.” Wolffe slips his fingers beneath the flimsy material of your panties, rubbing at your clit furiously to get you to focus on him and him only. 

“A-anything…anything Commander.” You turn to the side and kiss his forearm, hoping he’d see how willing you are to do whatever he asks of you. 

“Pray for me.” As you look bite into his skin, Wolffe pushes his hard dick into your cunt, not bothering to give you a moment to get used to being so full before he starts fucking into you with sharp thrusts. You’re screaming his name instantly, arching your back from the sheer amount of pain and pleasure he was bringing upon you so quickly. 

“FUck, there we go…such a good fucking girl for me, screaming my name so sweetly. Go on ner Jetii’ika, tell everyone who fucks you like the perfect cockdumb whore you are.” He leans down and bites the top of your breasts, letting go of your wrists for a brief second so he can rip the last bit of clothing shielding you from his hungry eyes. 

“Wolffe…f-ffuck, oh gods…Wolffe!” You twist your fingers into his bed sheets, crossing your legs behind his back and whining for him when he descends down on you and sucks on your nipple. His hand seeks out your own, and when he intertwines his fingers with yours, he grunts and growls against your skin, reaching for the other breast and groping you harshly until the only thing you can feel is his tongue, and his hands, and his cock wreaking havoc on you. 

Wolffe knows he should slow down, perhaps be a little less demanding with you. But something about seeing you in his bed when everyone else is asleep makes him more possessive, more needy with your body. And it didn’t help how you were reacting to his advances, how completely you surrendered your body to him without so much as a question. He opens his eyes and roams them over your already bruising skin, and when he finds you wanting for more, he increases his pace and fucks you until you couldn’t even breathe out his name. 

You sense his gaze on you, and as you look through heavy-lidded eyes, you find him completely focused on your dazed expression. 

“Wolffe, I- I love you.” You’re not sure what makes you say those words now, but a voice in your heart told you this was the right moment. You’ve spoken before about what this thing between the two of you was, and you knew, as well as he, that this would be it. There would be no one else, not for him, and definitely not for you. 

But you’ve never actually said those words out loud. You’ve said it in the way you kissed him, in the way you gave yourself to him…and Wolffe had pretty much conveyed them to you with every stolen glance and every quick touch he managed to sneak when the two of you passed each other on the General’s ship. 

Like before, Wolffe hasn’t expected to hear you part with such a confession, now of all times. He falters in his pace for a brief moment before he sinks his cock into you and stills completely, wanting to be as close and connected with you as possible when he finally said what he’s felt for you since you introduced yourself to him. 

“Ni kar’tayli gar darasuum…cyare.” You let out a quiet sob at the intimacy of the moment, and Wolffe wraps his arms around your neck and your waist to feel you against every bit of his skin. His thrusts are shallow, barely leaving you empty out of fear of losing this moment. You throw your arms around his neck and bring him flush against you, crying for him one last time as he seals your lips with his own and sinks into your wet cunt. 

The world comes to a halt around you, and all you can feel is Wolffe’s lips claiming your mouth just as he fills you with his seed. You come with him, shaking softly in his arms as his hot cum shoots into you and coats your walls with proof of his need to mark every fucking inch of you. It’s too much and not enough, and you push your heels into his ass in an attempt to bring him even closer to you. It’s not possible, you know that, but you want nothing more than to have him sink into your body until you weren’t sure where he ended and you began. 

Wolffe is fighting for his life, torn between giving you a second to breathe and quite literally stealing your breath to fill his lungs with your essence. He parts for a brief moment and looks at you, kissing your eyes softly before shoving his lips against yours again. You don’t dare ask him to give you a moment of respite, mostly because you’re sure you would miss him if he were to put space between your skin and his lips. 

Suddenly, the world turns around and you break the kiss unintentionally, gasping in surprise when he turns the two of you around until he’s laying on his back and you on top of him. You smile against his jaw when you feel his hands slide down your back and grab at your ass. As he starts moving your hips back and forth, you nuzzle into his neck and breathe in his scent, licking and kissing his skin the more he fucks his cum deep into your cunt. 

“W-Wolffe…”

“I’m not done with you yet, ner kar’ta.” The promise is both teasing and terrifying, but you can’t find it in yourself to hesitate, not when he was promising you the stars all night long. 

And he does, he brings you the heavens until you can no longer breathe without tasting the cosmos on your tongue. With every touch of his fingers, you beg him for more…more of his sweet words, more of his sinful kisses, more of his needy cock.

He fucks you until you lose your voice, and when he’s sure he’s rung your body of every ounce of pleasure it can offer him, he fucks you some more, filling your pussy until you were nothing but a mess, a mixture of his seed and your juices.

And then he pushes you down and parts your thighs to pull you apart with his tongue, and you feel that familiar heat rise in your chest all over again. You tug on his hair, torn between urging him to make you cum again and pleading for him to stop because you could no longer stand the pleasure. You were so sensitive, and Wolffe knew very well how painful the ecstasy was becoming, but some twisted part of him wanted to mark your cunt with his teeth and tongue as well. He wanted to devour you, body and soul. Your release comes in the form of a silent cry, and Wolffe laps up your mixed cum until you can’t take it anymore, softly pushing his shoulders away so he can slow down.

There is a lazy smile on your features, one that deepens further when you see Wolffe crawling on top of you and leaving a trail of wet kisses across your sweaty skin.

“Satisfied?” He dares to ask, lightly pinching your nipples when you don’t respond right away. You giggle at the touch, pulling him closer to you so he can kiss you some more. He melts into your body, roaming his hands across the tired muscles until he has no choice but to fall beside you.

You hum in response, studying his relaxed expression and laying the softest of kisses on his forehead before pulling him into your neck. Neither of you say anything, and only when your breathing steadies does Wolffe pull away to make sure you’re comfortable and asleep.

He sits up on his elbows and takes in his handiwork, biting his lower lip when he sees the bruises already forming all over your body. The contentment falters for a split second, but his worries evaporate when you sleepily reach for him and bring him back into your arms. He mutters his love for you one last time before surrendering to the comfort of your embrace, falling into a deep sleep almost as soon as he rests his cheek on your shoulder. 

It’s hours later when you wake, and you groan tiredly when the sunbeams hit your eyes and make it difficult to escape them. You turn to the other side and peek through your lashes, only to find Wolffe already wide awake, softly touching the length of your arm with his lips and nose, as if he was tracing every little mark he left on your body from last night. He looks up when he notices your breaths coming in erratically, winking at you and smirking at the sudden spirit of shyness falling over your tired form. 

“I can taste the sunlight on your skin.” He moans against your clavicle, lightly nipping at the skin over the bone when you turn away from him and hide beneath the sheets. 

“Hmm…such a smooth talker.” You groan from underneath the shield you’ve created, giggling like a little girl when Wolffe tugs them away and attacks your face with playful nips and kisses. 

“Only for you cyar’ika.” He whispers into your ear before biting at the space just below it, his touches becoming less playful and more needy as he takes in the way your body is reacting to his advances. 

“Wolffe, your lips feel so good.” You throw your head back and sink your nails into the muscles on his back, gasping for air the longer Wolffe continues to mark you up. It’s almost as if he was looking for spots on your skin he hasn’t left his bite marks or fingerprints on. Not that you were complaining. 

“Just my lips, General?” You can hear the smile on his handsome face, and you nearly push back to edge him on, but you realize it would serve you better to give into him and tell him what he wants to hear. 

“N-no, it’s everything you do to me Wolffe. It’s in your touch…your- your voice…your cock.”

“My little Jedi can’t get enough of me.” He shifts you in his arms until you’re laying on your stomach, and when you try to look back to see what he has in mind, he combs his finger into your hair and pushes you into the pillows until he has access to your back. When he hears whine his name, he descends down on you like a crazed man, sinking his teeth into the skin he wasn’t able to reach last night while pulling on your hair to remind you who was in charge. 

“Oh gods…never, Wolffe. Never. I want you all the kriffing time, even now…I just want you to- to,” you forget what you want to say, the need to commit this moment to memory outweighing whatever information your mind wanted to part with. It must be the reaction Wolffe was wanting for because he chuckles against your heated skin and finishes your thought for you. 

“Claim you?”

“Please.” You try to push the sheets away from you so you can feel him against your back, and Wolffe lets go of you for a split second to let you do whatever you wish, returning flush against you once you’re completely nude to his eyes. He’s on you in the blink of an eye, teasing you with the head of his hard cock while keeping a firm hold on your hips so you don’t move against him.

“Can’t really do that now, can I mesh’la?” He struggles through his words, his hungry eyes picturing all the things he still wants to do to you as you lay there beneath him, willingly submitting your entire self to him without a second thought. 

“You’re already mine, little Jedi. You’re mine, have been since you came here all those months ago and told me you wanted me.” He massages your back with his calloused hands, trying to come to terms with the fact that he will never be close enough to you. He’ll never get tired of this. He’ll never not want to touch you with everything he’s got. 

“But since you plead so sweetly,” you moan into the sheets as you feel him part your thighs and slowly sink his cock into your swollen cunt, keeping you filled to the brim and refusing to move until you begged some more. 

“Wolffe...” You reach back and tug on his hair to bring him closer to you, the need to hear what you do to him igniting a flame in your chest, one that only he could put out by showing you how much he craves you. 

“F-ffuck, you’ve ruined the mornings for me cyare. Now I- I won’t stop thinking of your wet, tight pussy when I…kriff, when I wake up.” Wolffe bites into your shoulder as he rolls his hips into you, no longer able to control his desires from you. He wanted you to know the effect you have on him, the hold you had on his very soul ever since you walked onto his ship and offered your aid all those months ago. 

“I’m yours Commander, always. Y-you can have me whenever you want.” You sigh heavily when he growls against your skin and continues to fuck into you without caring for how rough he’s being. 

“E-even at sunrise, General?” Wolffe chuckles as soon as your cunt clenches tightly around him at the mention of the honorific, letting you know that he enjoys calling you by your rank as much as he does when you moan his. 

“Especially at sunrise-” You barely manage to breathe out, smiling through the assault he was bringing on your body as you surrender yourself completely to him.

“My little tracinya,” Wolffe nuzzles into the crook of your neck, content with the way you seem to melt the harder he fills you with his cock. A part of him knows he should maybe discuss the incident from last night, but he finds it difficult to pay any mind to your words when he already has you so willing and wanting beneath him. 

Later, he would consider the little issue of your religion later. 

But for now, he was adamant on showing you his own.

[the-bad-batch-baroness]

Fortunately Unfortunate

Jesse x GN!Reader

Summary: Jesse’s number is drawn in a lottery, forcing him to participate in a cross-training event with the 212th, and he’s not happy about it. However, his view of the training mission changes when he crashes into your life, literally.

Pairing: Jesse x GN!Reader

Characters: Jesse, Rex, Cody, Waxer, Boil, Sinker, Violet (OFC)

Tags & Warnings: 18+, grumpy Jesse, vehicular accident, no injuries, clone jokes, bad puns, shirtless clones, fluff, humor, angst with a happy ending, implied sexy time offscreen, suggestive themes

Word Count: 9.2k

Author's Note:  Apologizing now for the word count (my small ideas never stay small), and for the fact that this fic only went through two rounds of editing before posting... This fic was written for @snippy-tano as part of the @rare-clone-fic-exchange. I hope you like it sweetie, and I hope you don’t mind the additional side characters 😘 As always, please enjoy 💚

@clonexreaderbingo Square: Tradition

“You can’t be serious?” Jesse groans with an exaggerated eye roll.

“I am,” Rex answers. “Your number was drawn, so you’re going.”

Jesse grunts. “This program is stupid!”

“This program is tradition,” Rex retorts.

“Can’t you send Fives?” Jesse asks. “He loves this stuff.”

“Fives’ number wasn’t drawn, yours was,” Rex crosses his arms and scowls. “ You’ll just have to learn to love it too.”

“But–”

“That’s an order,” Rex interjects.

Jesse grits his teeth. “Yes, sir.”

“Good,” Rex hands Jesse a data-pad. “Your transport leaves in an hour. I suggest you take that time to adjust your attitude. Cody is a good friend of mine and I don’t need you giving him grief.”

Jesse takes the data-pad. “Yes, sir.”

Rex turns to leave and Jesse is left in the cargo bay alone. He sighs as he sits down on a crate to review his new orders. Every month, the battalions swap a few clones in the name of “cross-training”. The clones are picked at random via lottery, and unfortunately for Jesse, his number was drawn this month. Out of the millions of clones, why did it have to be him? It’s not that he’s opposed to cross-training, but he shouldn’t be forced to leave his own battalion to do it.

Jesse swipes through the data-pad and skims over the details. He’s been assigned cross-training with the 212th attack battalion, specifically their ARF unit. He scoffs. The 501st has an ARF unit, and a darn good one. There’s no reason for him to be shipped off-world to play ARF trooper with a different battalion. If the GAR wants to cross-train clones so badly, then he should be able to do it with his own brothers, not with a bunch of clones he doesn’t know.

Jesse sets the data-pad down next to him on the crate and shakes his head. He wants to make Rex proud, but his heart just isn’t in it. Even if meeting a marshal commander does sound interesting, he knows he won’t be working with him exclusively. He’s an ARC, and he wants to do ARC things, and go on ARC missions with Fives and Echo. It's a shame that he’s missing out on their newest assignment. It sounded like a wild ride, and he was looking forward to it.

The intercom speaker interrupts Jesse’s thoughts to notify him that his transport is boarding and will be departing soon. With a heavy sigh, he hops off the crate, grabs his data-pad, and makes his way to the transport. He straps in and closes his eyes, letting his mind go blank as the transport whirs to life and delivers him to his new temporary post. The time it takes to get there is just under one standard rotation, so he takes this time to try to prepare himself for anything.

The transport lands and as the ramp descends, Jesse raises an arm to shield his eyes from the bright sun and the dust swirling into the transport. He steps down the ramp and observes his new surroundings, which isn’t much to look at. It’s a desert planet with little to no vegetation, and the sun glares down hot onto his plastoid armor. He experimentally grinds his foot into the tan earth beneath him and it shifts like powder until he reaches a layer of rock underneath.

“You must be Jesse,” Cody says on approach.

Jesse looks up to see the commander and straightens himself to attention. “Yes, sir!”

“Welcome to the 212th,” Cody gestures for Jesse to follow him. “I’ve heard good things about you from Rex. He says you’re one of his best.”

Jesse follows next to Cody as they make their way to the command center. “Just doing my duty to the Republic, sir.”

“He also mentioned that you’re not particularly fond of this assignment,” Cody adds.

Jesse grimaces and tries to backpedal. “With all due respect, sir, I only meant that I’d rather not be away from my brothers at the 501st when they might need me.”

“Fair enough,” Cody says. “However, if the survival of the entire battalion rests on you being there at all times, then perhaps Rex should be demoted.”

Jesse scrunches his face with indignation and raises his voice. “Captain Rex is–”

Cody turns on his heels to face Jesse and crosses his arms in a silent word of caution.

Jesse takes a startled half-step back and holds his tongue. “Nevermind, sir,” he stammers with embarrassment.

The rest of the walk to the command center is silent. Jesse kicks himself as he realizes how far he stuck his own foot into his mouth. So far that he’s surprised he hasn’t choked on it yet. He doesn’t want to embarrass Rex, yet here he is picking a fight with a marshal commander. It’s definitely one of the dumber things he’s done in his life. But, when it comes to his captain, Jesse finds it difficult to control his emotions. Their history together is too deep not to defend him.

When they enter the command center, Jesse sees two ARF troopers in camouflage armor with colors matching the tan dust that’s been sticking to him since he arrived. He also sees another trooper in gray and white armor standing next to them. As he gets closer, he can hear them chatting away about something nonsensical. He eyes the three clones and mentally sizes them up; not entirely sure what to make of them yet, but he’ll reserve judgment for now.

“This is Lieutenant Waxer and Boil,” Cody gestures with his hands. “They’re part of our elite ARF unit, Ghost Company, and will be conducting your training for the next few rotations.”

The four clones trade head nods of acknowledgement.

Cody turns to Jesse and the clone with gray armor. “I expect you to address them as you would a commanding officer, with respect. Follow their orders and do what they ask of you.”

“Yes, sir!” Jesse and the other clone affirm.

Cody nods. “I’ll leave you to it.”

A moment of silence passes between the four clones as an awkward air blows in.

Waxer is the first to speak up. “Do you guys have names?”

“I’m Jesse,” Jesse answers and stretches out his hand to shake that of the two ARFs. “With the 501st.”

The clone in the gray armor follows suit. “I’m Sinker, with the 104th.”

“Nice to meet you both,” Boil adds.

Another awkward silence passes between the clones and Jesse starts to question the validity of his new assignment. Perhaps this whole thing is a big joke and he can board the next transport off this dust bowl. He absentmindedly grinds his foot into the dusty floor, a habit he picked up somewhere during the war to keep him from running his mouth when he’s bored. If someone doesn’t say something soon, he might, and they probably won’t like what it is.

“Alright, boys,” Waxer says with a gesture of his head towards the door. “We’re heading out to the corral.”

“Corral?” Jesse asks, raising an eyebrow. “Are we learning to ride animals?”

Boil chuckles. “Sort of.”

Jesse looks at Sinker, hoping that he’s on his side about how crazy this whole thing sounds.

Sinker shrugs. “Sounds fun.”

The three clones head out of the command center, leaving Jesse alone in his bewilderment. When his brain catches up to him, he jogs up to the rear and follows them out to the so-called corral. Although, Jesse wouldn’t call it a “corral”. It’s just a barricaded motor pool full of AT-RTs. A part of Jesse is relieved that he doesn’t actually have to ride any animals, but his intuition tells him that whatever they have planned isn’t going to be as easy as he thinks.

Waxer stops in front of the barricade and addresses the squad. “As part of your cross-training in the ARF unit, you’re each going to learn how to ride an AT-RT.”

“Don’t you mean drive?” Jesse interrupts.

“No,” Waxer answers. “An AT-RT isn’t just some machine you can climb on and control. It takes concentration, skill, dexterity, and a mutual understanding between you and the walker. You don’t drive an AT-RT, you ride it.”

Jesse rolls his eyes. There’s a reason he’s an ARC and not an ARF. He doesn’t have the patience for these pansies, talking about a machine as if it’s a living animal. What utter nonsense.

“Shinies don’t even look at an AT-RT until they can show competency riding a living breathing animal,” Boil continues the explanation. “Since both of you are well-established and accomplished soldiers, we figured we could skip the live animal part and see what you’re made of.”

A smirk flashes across Sinker’s face and Jesse realizes he’s alone in his feelings about the training. He grinds his foot against the dusty earth again, feeling way out of his element. ARCs don’t “ride” AT-RTs, they infiltrate enemy lines, perform sabotage, steal secrets, and tip the scales of an assault. His last hope that he might get some in depth reconnaissance training has officially been dashed as Waxer opens the corral and ushers them inside to show them the AT-RTs.

“Do you name them?” Sinker asks as he inspects one of the units.

“Of course!” Waxer exclaims with a proud smile. He pats the side of the unit Sinker is looking at. “This one’s name is Sella. She’s a little glitchy, but she’s seen a lot of combat.”

If Jesse rolled his eyes any harder, they would roll right out of his head.

“Can I ride her?” Sinker asks, his eyes bright.

“Eh, not for your first ride,” Waxer says. “Like I said, she’s a little glitchy.” Waxer moves across the motor pool to another unit and pats the side. “Vala here will be a good starter for you.”

Sinker punches Jesse’s shoulder in excitement and heads over to where Waxer is standing. Jesse rubs his shoulder in mock discomfort, then crosses his arms. He’s still not convinced this is proper ARF training. He wants to be looking at charts and battle strategies, not galivanting around in AT-RTs. There’s nothing useful about this exercise that he can take back to his unit, unless they let him take the AT-RT as a souvenir, which he highly doubts they would.

“How about this one for you?” Boil asks while leaning against another unit. “Her name is Mina and she’s pretty gentle on the new guys.”

Jesse huffs and approaches the AT-RT. “Sure.”

The AT-RT training goes just as well as Waxer and Boil expect. Both Jesse and Sinker fall off their AT-RTs multiple times just on start-up, when the machine initially jerks to life. The breath is knocked out of Jesse’s lungs more times than he can count and he wonders if Kix can order him a replacement set if he ever makes it back to the 501st alive. The only buffer he has is his ARC armor and it’s not enough to prevent the litany of bruises from growing on every part of his body.

By rotations end, Jesse and Sinker manage to stay on their AT-RTs and even take a few steps forward with them. It’s been hard work, but they’re finally seeing the fruits of their labor and Jesse’s ego is just as bruised as his thighs. He gets it now. He understands what they mean by riding an AT-RT instead of driving it. It’s not like a starfighter or an ATTE that he’s driven in simulations. No, these things are like living animals and they need to be respected as such.

At the end of the training session, Jesse doesn’t stop for food at the mess hall. Instead, he hobbles to the medbay for some bacta, then makes his way to the barracks. He gingerly pulls his armor off, each flex of muscle a new sensation of pain. He winces and grunts until it all comes off and he stacks it neatly beside his assigned bunk. He pulls out a ration bar from his pack and settles onto the cot, mindlessly munching away at the bland bar while trying not to move.

Tomorrow, they’re taking the AT-RTs out on a fake reconnaissance mission. He’s not sure who decided that he and Sinker are ready to take the AT-RTs into the field, but he definitely doesn’t feel ready. He doesn’t even know if he’ll be able to move when he wakes up in the morning, let alone climb onto the back of an AT-RT and ride it out into the middle of who-knows-where. Just the thought of his legs doing that climbing motion again makes his thighs twitch in protest.

The next morning, Jesse wakes when the sun rises and its rays shine into the barracks. He was right, his entire body objects to him moving even one inch off of his cot, but he doesn’t have a choice. He feels like a cadet all over again. Like he just went through a rigorous course of simulations and he needs to go again. Those are days he wishes he didn’t have to remember. He’s much stronger now, and more resilient, but his aching thighs force his recollections.

Jesse swings by the medbay before meeting up with the others at the corral. He begs the medic on duty for anything he can give him to help soothe the pain. He’ll even take a muscle relaxer at this point, even if it makes him drowsy. The medic takes pity on him, tosses him a small bottle of painkillers, and threatens him not to mention it to anybody or he’d be returning to his battalion in a bodybag. That’s a risk Jesse is willing to take. Besides, Kix has threatened him with much worse.

Jesse downs a few of the pills, stuffs the bottle out of sight in one of his belt pouches, and heads to the corral. Everyone else is already there, and he hopes that he isn't too late that they make an issue about it. Luckily, no one mentions his tardiness, but Waxer does have a small grin on his face that makes Jesse suspicious. He wonders how much enjoyment Waxer and Boil get out of torturing their shinies with this training, because clearly they know why he’s late.

Waxer gives the squad a short briefing on their fake mission. He pulls out the data-pad with the map coordinates on it, their rendezvous point, the intel they’re supposed to be acquiring, and any enemy obstacles in their way. This is what Jesse has been after ever since the beginning of the cross-training. He studies everything Waxer shows them, eagerly consuming all of the information and stuffing it away in his brain to use later when he’s back with his own battalion.

After the mission briefing is over, they mount their AT-RTs, Jesse on Mina and Sinker on Vala. Waxer and Boil mount their personal AT-RTs, the ones they’ve been using since they became ARF troopers, and the squad heads out into the desert. Unlike Waxer and Boil, Jesse and Sinker do not have ARF trooper armor. Since the mission is fake, there is no need to outfit them. The squad looks rather odd up close, but from a distance no one can tell they’re mismatched.

The squad spends hours in the desert. The constant back and forth motion on the AT-RT has Jesse convinced he’s also going to need a spine replacement. He wonders how hard it will be to requisition and if there’s a special form he needs to fill out. He tries to pop a few more painkillers but as the AT-RT continues to lunge forward like a jack-rabbit, it makes the task very difficult. In all honesty, he’d rather be dropped out of a LAAT without a jetpack than do this full time.

Around mid-day, Waxer calls over the comms to let the squad know that they’ll be stopping for a break soon. He gives them the coordinates for the only known piece of civilization within ten klicks of their location, and they all head in that direction. Jesse can’t wait. His back, thighs, and butt all thank the Maker that he’s going to be able to rest soon, even if he has to fall off the AT-RT instead of hopping off. At this point, he’s not even sure his arms are still attached to his body.

As they approach their rest-stop, Waxer gives the order for the squad to halt. Waxer, Boil, and Sinker all stop relatively close together, but Jesse keeps going.

“Jesse, halt,” Waxer calls through the comms.

“It won’t stop,” Jesse calls back while pressing every button he can think of to try and stop.

“What do you mean it won’t stop?” Waxer asks as he watches Jesse move further away.

“I mean, it won’t stop!” Jesse yells.

“Hit the emergency brake,” Boil orders into the comms.

“I did,” Jesse answers. He refuses to panic, but the building is getting closer and his AT-RT is not obeying his commands. “I think there’s an electrical malfunction.”

“Great,” Waxer sighs. “Just steer her out of harm's way and we can figure it out.”

“About that…” Jesse pauses. His heart rate increases as the building is looking a lot bigger than it did a few seconds ago. “The steering isn’t responding either.”

“Bail!” Waxer calls as he starts his unit up and rushes over. “Bail, Jesse, bail!”

It’s too late. Jesse braces as his AT-RT crashes into the side of the building.

“Order up for table twelve!” the cook calls from the kitchen as he rings the bell at the end of the order window.

“Coming!” you answer, then rush over to grab the order.

“What’s the hold up?” the cook asks. “Are you daydreaming again?”

“Only everyday I’m stuck working here,” you sing back with a sweet smile.

The cook huffs. “Just make sure the customers are fed. You don’t get paid to daydream.”

“Yes, sir!” you answer with a mock salute as you balance the tray of food on one hand.

You turn around and roll your eyes before walking the food over to table twelve. You’ve been stuck working at this diner for four cycles now with no end in sight. It’s not the worst job you could have, but with the small amount you’re being paid with no raises in the near future, you’ll never be able to afford to go find a new one. It’s an endless cycle of work, work, work, and never any time for yourself or what you want to do. It’s agonizing, but it’s all you have.

The only reason you even have this job is to pay off your parent’s debt. They left you on this barren rock to go on their “galactic tour” and never returned. From what you know, they made a deal with the owner of the diner to ensure you had a place to stay, and in return, when you were old enough, you would work for him to pay off the debt. It’s definitely not the life you would’ve chosen, but it’s the life you have been given, and you should be grateful for even that much.

Your only solace is your best friend Violet. She also works at the diner and hates it as much as you do. The two of you became fast friends when you first started working at the diner and now you spend all of your free time together. Violet also doesn’t have any parents planet-side, so there’s an even deeper connection between the two of you and an unspoken understanding about life. At least you have each other, is what you tell yourself when things get unbearable.

“Tooka got your tongue?” Violet asks as she peers over your shoulder.

“Ah!” you startle. “Where’d you come from?”

“Table eight,” Violet answers. “You had that look in your eye again.”

“What look?” you ask.

“The dreamy and distant one,” Violet answers with a flip of her hair.

You groan. “That obvious, huh?”

“If you were any more obvious, you’d have a neon sign stuck to your forehead,” Violet laughs.

You sigh. “Don’t you want more?”

“More what?” Violet asks.

“I don’t know,” you answer. “More anything.”

Violet thinks for a moment. “Yeah, more sleep and more credits.”

You pout. “Besides that.”

“What else is there?” Violet asks as she picks up another tray of food.

“Oh, you know…” you trail your voice quietly while bussing the table next to hers. “Like love and stuff.”

Violet snorts. “What? Love? Out here? In this dust bowl? You’re nuts.”

“I am not!” you retort. “It could happen.”

“Yeah, sure,” Violet rolls her eyes, “because gorgeous and attractive people just tumble into our diner like it’s a speed-dating site.”

“I–”

CRASH

The violent shockwave shakes the diner to its core and knocks both you and Violet off of your feet and flat onto the ground. You instinctively cover your head as pieces of debris and dust fall from the ceiling. The patrons in the diner start screaming and run past you to the diner exit as you lay on the floor, stunned by what just happened. You slowly open your eyes and look over at Violet, making sure she’s okay. She looks dazed, but nods and you both help each other up.

“Kriffing banthas!” you exclaim. “What was that?”

“I don’t know,” Violet says with a shaky voice, still in shock.

You turn around and see a gaping hole in the side of the diner and your eyes grow wide. A mess of twisted dura-steel, snapped electrical wires, and broken water pipes are poking out in every direction. You’re not sure what to make of it. You tilt your head from side to side trying to figure out what happened until you see a clone trooper’s body laying under some debris. You rush over, climbing through the rubble to get to the trapped man. He’s unconscious, but breathing.

“Violet, help me!” you call back. “He’s trapped!”

Violet climbs up alongside of you and you each grab an arm, tugging with all of your might, but it’s no use, he’s too heavy. You pant at the exertion and look around for anything that you could use for leverage. But before you can make your next move, three more clone troopers burst through the front door of the diner. They look around frantically before meeting your gaze as you wave your hands to try and get their attention. They must be with the clone that’s trapped.

“Over here!” you call out to them. “He’s over here!”

The three clones rush over and replace you and Violet. The two troopers in camouflage lift the debris and the third clone in gray armor pulls the trapped clone out from underneath it. They carry him away from the debris pile and lay him on top of one of the diner tables. The clone in gray armor pulls out a bag with a medic symbol on it and rummages through it. Finding what he’s looking for, he scans over the unconscious clone with the device, then sighs in relief.

“No internal injuries,” the gray clone says. “Looks like he just got knocked out. He’s lucky.”

One of the clones in camouflage shakes his head. “Of all the things to go wrong.”

“At least he’s not dead,” the other clone in camouflage says. “Try explaining that to Commander Cody and Captain Rex.”

The first clone in camouflage visually bristles.

“Um, excuse me,” you interrupt with a slight raise of your hand.

The first clone in camouflage takes his helmet off. “Apologies, I’m Waxer, with the 212th.” He points to the clone next to him. “This is Boil, also with the 212th, and that’s Sinker, with the 104th.” He looks down at the clone on the table. “And that one is Jesse, from the 501st.”

“Pleasure…” you say as you try to take it all in. There’s so many numbers and names, you’re not sure how you’ll keep them all straight.

“Wait, hold on,” Violet interjects, dumbfounded. “Y’all just crashed into our diner and you're exchanging pleasantries like you met at the local market?”

“Correction,” Boil says. “Jesse crashed into your diner.”

Violet’s jaw drops and she turns to you. “Are these guys for real?”

“I assure you ma’am,” Sinker says. “We are, in fact, real clones.”

You start to snicker and Violet throws her hands up in defeat. “You know what, I’ve had enough for one day.” She takes her dusty and torn apron off and tosses it on the ground with the rest of the debris. “I do not get paid enough to deal with clowns!”

“Don’t you mean, clones?” Boil asks.

“I meant what I said!” Violet yells back as she navigates around the debris to the exit.

You try to stifle a laugh, but fail. “Don’t worry about her. She’s just stressed. It’s not every day we get clones crashing into our diner.”

Waxer rubs the back of his neck. “Oh, yeah, sorry about that. One of the AT-RTs had a malfunction and Jesse couldn’t get it to stop.”

“I see,” you look down at the clone on the table and knit your brows with worry. You feel bad for him. It must have been scary, being stuck on an uncontrollable collision course and knowing you can’t do anything to stop it from happening. Well, at least for you it would have been scary. You’re not even sure if clones feel fear. It’s not something you’ve ever thought about, until now.

“We’ll fix the wall for you,” Waxer says. “Might take us a couple rotations, but we’ll get it done.”

“The owner will definitely appreciate it,” you smile. You’re not quite sure where the cook went off to, but he must have bailed when the wall was smashed. That coward. He talks a lot about your head being stuck in the clouds, but when things go wrong, you’re the only one keeping a level head.

“Can you stay with him?” Waxer asks. “We need to comm our superiors.”

“Yeah, sure,” you agree, then pull out one of the table chairs to take a seat. You didn’t realize how much your legs were shaking until you were sitting down and relieving them of their duty, but now that the adrenaline is wearing off, you’re starting to feel exhausted.

You watch Jesse like Waxer asked you too, but to be honest, you’re not sure what you’re supposed to be watching. You look him over from head to toe and take in all of his features. He’s wearing different armor than the other three clones, but it’s not the standard issue clone armor that you see in the news either. You’re not sure what it is. He’s got two thick leather skirt-looking things around his thighs, two holsters, and a big flappy thing across his shoulders.

You shrug and continue your examination. He also has some type of pouch on his chest that looks like it could either hold ammo or snacks. You figure both are important. There’s also an extra chest plate on top of the standard one. Must be for extra protection. You then look at the blue markings that adorn his arms and legs and wonder if they have any meaning. The last thing you look at is his face. There’s a huge GAR tattoo covering one side. Curious, but not bizarre.

You lean over his body to get a better view, when you hear him stir. You quickly remove yourself and wave your hand over his face to try and get him to wake up.

“Hey,” you call. “Wake up, Jesse.”

Jesse groans as he comes to. “Am I dead?”

You chuckle. “No, just got a little knocked around.”

Jesse hisses as he tries to sit up and raises a hand to hold the side of his head. “Ow, my head.”

“It’s gonna hurt a bit,” you say. “That was a nasty crash.”

Jesse closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “What crash?”

“You don’t remember?” you ask in concern.

Jesse opens his eyes, and as they finally focus, he sees the mess of twisted dura-steel and a crushed AT-RT within it. His body jolts at the memory. “The building!”

“Whoa!” you put your hands on Jesse’s shoulders to try and get him to calm down. “Easy, Jesse, easy.”

Jesse breathes heavily at the new surge of adrenaline, but settles down. He shoots you a quizzical look. “Who are you and how do you know my name?”

“Oh, right,” you laugh nervously then introduce yourself. “I’m a waitress here and your friends are just outside. They pulled you out of the rubble and told me to watch you.”

Jesse leans his head back against the table and groans. “Rex is going to kill me.”

“Who’s Rex?” you ask to try to keep him talking. Concussions are very serious, and without knowing if he has one, you don’t want him falling unconscious again.

“My captain,” Jesse answers. He drapes an arm over his face. “He’s the one that sent me to this desolate dust bowl.”

You chuckle at his disdain for the planet.

“Oh, sorry,” Jesse apologizes. “I guess this is your home, huh? I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“No worries,” you wave off the remark and smile. “I think it’s a dust bowl, too.”

Jesse chuckles.

“I’m sorry about your AT… thing,” you offer, trying to remember the exact acronym.

Jesse laughs. “Don’t worry, it wasn’t mine.”

You snort and then laugh along with him. “You’re funny.”

“And you’re pretty,” Jesse blurts out.

You stop laughing as you process what he said. “You think I’m pretty?”

Jesse’s stomach flips when he realizes his thoughts didn’t stay in his head. “Kriff, did I say that out loud?”

“Uh, yeah,” you answer nervously, your face feeling warm.

“Maker, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that,” Jesse apologizes, the embarrassment written all over his face.

“So, you don’t think I’m pretty?” you ask.

“Uh, no, I mean yes, well, you see,” Jesse stammers, then gives up trying to explain himself. He sighs. “I think my brain got scrambled in the crash.”

You chuckle and pat his arm. “It’s okay. I forgive you.”

After your short but awkward conversation with Jesse, the three clones reassemble in the diner to debrief the now awake Jesse. Waxer commed Cody, Boil commed Rex, and Sinker commed Wolffe, although from the sweat on Sinker’s face, you can tell who has the most commanding officer of them all. The consensus is that the GAR will pay for the damages and the four clones will repair the diner wall. None of them seem too thrilled about it, and you don’t blame them.

By the time the excitement has calmed down, and the materials to fix the diner are located, it’s nightfall and you are exhausted. You’re practically dead on your feet, body swaying with your broom while trying to clean up some of the debris on the other end of the diner. You’re the only staff member left to help clean up, so you chose to stay. Of course won’t be paid for any of this, but the faster the diner is back in business, the faster you can start getting paid again.

You dump another dust pan of rubble into the trash receptacle, then plop down onto one of the stools lining the diner counter. You yawn wide and lean your elbow on the counter, propping your face up as you close your eyelids for just a moment to rest. The moment must have lasted longer than you expected, because when you open your eyes again, you wake up in one of the booths with a blanket on top of you and another one folded under your head for use as a pillow.

It’s still dark out, the moonlight beaming in through the large transparisteel panes that line the front of the diner, and you sit up to get your bearings. There’s three clones nestled on the floor, all tangled up together in a mess of armor and limbs. You’re not sure how sleeping like that is comfortable, but more power to them. You realize Jesse is missing, and you pop your head up over the booth to look for him, hoping that he hasn’t wandered off somewhere and gotten lost.

You tiptoe around the sleeping clones, blanket hung around your shoulders to keep the desert chill out, and walk around looking for Jesse. He’s not inside the diner, so you walk outside. You really hope he didn’t leave to relieve himself and you’re about to walk in on something you’re not prepared to see, and luckily you don’t. You circle the entire building and you still can’t find him. Finally, you hear your name being called and you look up to see two legs dangling from the roof.

You shake your head and climb up the side ladder to join Jesse on the roof.

“You should be asleep,” he says, not moving his gaze from the horizon.

“So, should you,” you retort back. “You’re injured.”

“I’m fine,” he dismisses. “Barely even a scratch on me.”

You sit next to him and let your feet hang off the edge. “I was talking about your brain.”

Jesse chuckles. “That’s fine, too.”

“No more accidentally calling me pretty?” you jest.

“Not making any promises on that one,” he smirks.

You smile and fidget with the edges of the blanket. “Did you move me to the booth?”

“Hope you don’t mind,” he answers. “That counter was doing nothing for your back. Probably should’ve asked first.”

“Oh, no,” you dismiss with a wave of your hand. “I just wanted to say thank you.”

Jesse smiles. “You’re welcome, mesh’la.”

You don’t remember falling asleep on the rooftop, but when you awaken feeling like a rolled up burrito with Jesse’s arm draped across your side, the memories start to come back. You must have talked for a while before dozing off, because you feel like you barely got any sleep at all. The blanket wrapped around you is tight and you wiggle to try to get yourself free from it, but as you do, you start to roll away. You panic slightly before feeling Jesse’s firm hand stopping you.

“Going somewhere?” he asks, his voice rough with sleep.

“Thought I’d roll myself to work today,” you answer.

Jesse raises an eyebrow. “How’s that working out for you?”

You wiggle against the restraining blanket. “Ten out of ten would not recommend.”

Jesse snorts and sits up. “I didn’t want you to get cold or fall off the roof.”

“Appreciate it,” you strain out as you wriggle some more. “Please help me.”

Jesse unravels your blanket cocoon and helps you to your feet. You straighten your dirty uniform out and climb down the ladder to get the day started with Jesse trailing behind you. Violet is already inside the diner, chatting with the other three clones. She gives you a knowing look when she sees you walk in with Jesse, but doesn’t say anything. You’re just happy she’s here to help. When she stormed off yesterday, you weren’t sure if she was going to come back.

As the clones start discussing their plan of attack, the two of you decide the best way to start the day is to eat a hearty breakfast. There’s a lot of work to be done and everyone is going to need as much energy as they can get. The cook never came back, but that’s of no matter, you know how to cook. In no time, a full breakfast and hot caf is served. You dust off some of the debris before placing the plates and mugs down on the table and everyone digs in.

Once breakfast is over, the four clones get to work hauling away the large debris pieces from the wall and the crushed AT-RT. You offer the use of the dumpster in the back of the building, but they insist that the GAR will come pick it up and you should use the dumpster for smaller debris. You don’t argue with them and set out with Violet to clean whatever you can of the mess inside the diner, making sure to wear gloves so you don’t cut your hands on any sharp pieces.

As the day continues, the desert heat begins to seep into the diner. The crash must have broken the refrigerant lines, but with the gaping hole in the side of the diner, the climate control wouldn’t be of much use anyway. You and Violet switch gears and make a refreshing batch of Tatooine Sunset to ensure everyone stays hydrated. You also put damp towels in the conservator to help cool everyone off during breaks. It’s barely midday and you know it’s only going to get hotter.

Soon enough, the clones start shedding their armor, at least the top halves of their armor. You’ve never seen a clone without their armor, but honestly, you haven’t seen that many clones to begin with. It’s when they start taking the top black portion of their bodysuits off that you really take notice. They’re jacked. You stand back in one of the corners, mindlessly moving your broom as you watch them work. Not a single piece of debris makes it into the dustpan.

Violet elbows you in the side.

“Ow!” you exclaim. “What was that for?”

“You’re staring,” Violet answers.

“Am not,” you argue.

Violet crosses her arms. “Four hot, shirtless men are flexing their muscles and sweating in our diner, and you’re not staring?”

You purse your lips trying not to give her any satisfaction.

“Well, I’m going to stare,” Violet says. “I mean, look at those abs. But the difference is that I can stare and sweep.”

You roll your eyes and push some garbage into the dustpan.

“You wanted more,” Violet says as she nonchalantly scoots away with her broom. “Well, more is standing over there with a giant tattoo on his head.”

You open your mouth to protest, but she’s too far away. You hate it when she does that. Violet always seems to know what you’re thinking before you’ve even thought it yourself. According to her it’s her gift to the world, but really, it’s just a nuisance. She is right, though, because Jesse does make your heart flutter. You’ve just met him, but it's like you’ve known him your entire life. Talking to him feels as natural as breathing, and for the first time, you truly feel fortunate for your job at the diner.

You lean on your broom and start staring again, watching Jesse walk over to the rubble, pick up a large piece, then carry it out of the diner and drop it onto the pile. Each movement he makes causes the muscles in his arms and torso to ripple with dramatic effect. The sweat that drips down his body only serves to accentuate how toned he is. Before you even realize it, Jesse’s looking at you and you nearly fall off your broom in embarrassment, but he smiles at you.

You continue cleaning up the diner while stealing glances at Jesse, but he also glances back. You want so badly just to sit down and talk with him more. Your conversation on the rooftop last night was a lot of fun and you both shared different things about your lives. You told him about your parents and how you got stuck working at the diner, and he told you about his battalion and how he got stuck going on this training mission. Both equally unfortunate, but now, it feels okay.

The late afternoon break comes around, so you and Violet make another batch of Tatooine Sunset, as well as some sandwiches. The clones inhale the sandwiches so fast that you’re embarrassed you didn’t make more. You offer to, but they turn you down, being grateful just for the opportunity to eat real food instead of rations. You smile and turn back towards the kitchen. Jesse follows you through the double-doors and leans his hot back against the cool conservator.

“Like what you see?” Jesse asks with a smirk.

You turn around to look at him. “The wall’s coming along nice.”

Jesse scrunches his nose. “You weren’t staring at the wall.”

“How do you know?” you jest. “Maybe I like walls.”

Jesse tilts his head to the side and folds his arms over his bare chest. “Are you sure you don’t like something else?”

You groan. “You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?”

Jesse gives you a devilish grin.

“Fine,” you sigh. “I like what I see.”

“I knew it,” Jesse says, a little too excited.

“Maker above, would you two please get a room!” Violet exclaims from the order window. “I’m so sick of you staring at each other. The closet is empty if you’re looking for a place to smash.”

“Violet!” you yell as your face flushes with embarrassment.

Jesse snorts. “That closet can barely fit a broom.”

“Then kiss or something,” Violet says. “Anything to get you two back to work.”

Jesse pushes off the conservator and heads towards the double doors. “You heard the task-master.”

“Wait,” you call. “Aren't you going to kiss me?”

Jesse stops and turns his head. “Do you want me to kiss you?”

You fidget with your hem. “Kinda.”

“Kinda isn’t a yes or a no,” Jesse says.

“Yes,” you correct. “I want you to kiss me.”

Jesse takes his hand off the double doors and walks over to you. Your eyes dart around as your nerves start to get the better of you. You can’t believe you just asked him to kiss you. You’ve never kissed anyone before. What if you’re bad at it? What if he doesn’t like it? What if you accidentally bite him? Maker, your stomach is in knots. Your breathing becomes heavier as he gets closer, but your nervous energy comes to a halt when he cups the side of your face.

Jesse smooths his thumb over your cheek and gives you a reassuring smile. He dips his head and tilts it to the side before pressing his lips against yours. His lips are warm and their touch ever so gentle as they melt into yours. You place your hands on his chest and all of your worries and concerns slip away as all you can think about is Jesse. You don’t want this moment to end, but eventually he pulls back, breaking the kiss, leaving you breathless and wanting for more.

Without a single word, Jesse turns on his heels and leaves the kitchen to go back to work fixing the wall. You stand there, alone in the kitchen, completely dazed by what just happened. You’re not sure if you’re dreaming or not, but you’re too afraid to pinch yourself to find out. You press your fingers to your lips, thinking about the kiss, and your body warms. You’re not sure how you can work now, but you do know that you’ll be spending every spare moment you have with Jesse.

Finally the repairs are complete and tonight is your last night with Jesse. Your stomach aches at the thought of him leaving. Only a couple of rotations ago, he crashed into your life and stole your heart. You didn’t mean to fall for him, but his soulful brown eyes and bright smile captivated you. Besides, the feelings are mutual. You don’t want him to leave, but you know he can’t stay. He’s a soldier, with things to do and places to go, and you’re just a waitress at a diner in the middle of nowhere.

You’re spending your last night together sitting up on the rooftop of the diner, legs dangling over the edge, as you gaze up at the moon and soak in each other’s presence. It’s quiet, like it usually is in the desert, and not a soul would dare to disturb this moment, not even Violet. You want your last night with Jesse to be a memorable one, and what better way to end it then with the way you started it; on the roof. It may be silly to some, but it makes the pain a little easier.

“You’re leaving tomorrow,” you say sadly.

“Yeah,” Jesse answers, equally feeling sad about his departure.

“I don’t want you to go,” you admit as your voice quivers.

Jesse wraps an arm around you and pulls you against his side, leaning his head atop yours. “I don’t want to go either.”

“Stay?” you ask.

“You know I can’t,” Jesse sighs.

“Please,” you plead while nuzzling into his neck. “Don’t go.”

Jesse’s heart breaks. He picks his head up and cups the side of your face, leaning in and closing his eyes to capture your soft lips with his own. You press your body against his, deepening the kiss until Jesse is laying flat against the roof and you’re straddling over his stomach. Your lips are locked as Jesse glides his rough hands over your smooth back, pulling your shirt in different directions as he maps out the plains of your body.

Jesse breaks the kiss for a moment. “Come back to Coruscant with me,” he whispers while ghosting his lips over yours before nipping at your bottom lip and pulling them back against his.

Now it’s your turn to break the kiss. “Jesse–”

“We could get an apartment,” he cuts you off before you can protest, then plants a gentle kiss on the corner of your mouth. “I’ll take care of you.” Another kiss finds its mark. “My vode will adore you.” A gentle suck at your bottom lip. “We’ll make lots of babies.” He smirks and you can’t stop the giggle from forming.

You sit up and release a soft sigh. “Sounds nice.”

Jesse reaches up and cups your chin. “But?”

You melt into his caress for a moment before removing his hand from your face. “But I can’t.”

Jesse bends his knees so you can lean back against them, then laces his fingers under his head. “Why not?”

You absently draw small circles around his chest with your fingers, the longing evident in your actions but missing from your words. “My home is here.”

“I could be your home,” Jesse reassures with a small smile.

You briefly smile back and tap at his chest. “What if something happens to you? I’ll be alone.”

Jesse knits his brows and frowns, fully understanding your hesitation. He’s a soldier, created to be expendable. His brothers die every day and no one bats an eyelash. There’s no guarantees that he’ll come back from his next campaign alive, but still, he wants this. He wants you.

Jesse untangles his fingers from behind his head and takes both of your hands in his own, kissing them tenderly. “I can’t promise tomorrow,” he admits. “I can only promise now.”

A single tear rolls down your cheek. “Then can I have you, at least right now?”

Jesse wipes your tear with his thumb, then flips you onto your back so he’s hovering over you. He leans down and presses his lips to yours once again, yearning to taste as much of you as possible. If this is his only moment with you, then he wants to remember everything. Every sweet taste, every curve, every bump, and every heavenly sound you’ll make for him as he ravages your body with only the moon above as a witness.

“Jesse,” you say his name breathlessly as your desire builds. “I want–”

Jesse places a finger against your lips to hush you. “I know, mesh’la,” he soothes while rubbing his finger across your plush lips before gently pushing it into your mouth, causing you to gasp. “We’ve got all night.”

The light of the rising sun pierces through your eyelids, rousing you from your slumber. The morning comes quicker than you expect and you groan as you sit yourself up on the hard dura-steel roof. You rub the sleep from your eyes and look over to your right, expecting Jesse to still be sleeping, but he’s gone. Your heart sinks and you whip your head around to make sure he didn’t get up and stretch his legs, but you don’t see him. He must have left before you awoke.

Holding tears back, you stand up and pat down your wrinkled and disheveled clothes, trying to regain some semblance of normalcy. But who are you kidding? How could you ever be normal again after a night like that? A night of romance, passion, and longing that made you feel everything and nothing all at the same time. You know this is for the best. He’ll go back to Coruscant, back to the war, and you’ll be here, working your minimum wage job.

You break at the thought. Dropping to your knees you begin to sob, grieving over what you let go of. You don’t want Jesse to leave. You don’t want him to be a one night stand. You want a life with him. Even if it means him being away for weeks at a time or that he may leave and never come back. That slim chance is lightyears better than never seeing him again, than never feeling his burning touch on your skin or hearing his deep voice whisper sweetly in your ear.

You have to go after him. You can’t let him leave, not without you. Maybe it’s selfish, but you don’t care. Burdened with the thought of never seeing him again, you wipe your face, pick yourself up, and head to the ledge. You grab the ladder and stare off into the distance, wondering if you’ll catch a glimpse of him, but you don’t. You may be too late. Regardless, you slip down the ladder, ignoring the rungs and land with a thud onto the dusty ground.

You’re breathing heavily, your hair is a mess, and your clothes are horribly wrinkled, but you don’t care. You push open the front door violently. “I quit!”

Violet looks up at you from where she’s mopping the floor and pauses to lean on her mop with a knowing smile. Love wins, she guesses, and she’s right.

You walk over to Violet and throw your arms around her. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”

“I know,” Violet says as she hugs you tightly.

“I’ll miss you,” you whisper, the tears barely held back.

“I’ll miss you too,” Violet answers with a tremble in her voice. She breaks your embrace and composes herself. “Now go, or you won’t catch him.”

You reluctantly let go of your best friend, and with tears in your eyes, you back away and leave.

“You got everything?” Waxer asks as he carries another crate into the transport that’s taking Jesse back to Coruscant.

“Hm?” Jesse snaps out of his daze. “Oh, yeah,” Jesse answers, and then pauses. “I… I left something in the desert.”

“I hope it wasn’t valuable,” Waxer laughs.

Jesse stares out towards the dusty horizon and sighs. “Priceless, actually.”

Waxer claps a comforting hand on Jesse’s shoulder. “Sorry to hear that.”

Jesse gives Waxer a half smile, but it quickly fades back into a frown. His transport leaves within the hour and he wonders if he made a mistake by not saying goodbye. He thought if he left without a word, it would be easier for both of you, but he was wrong. His chest feels tight and his heart aches. What he wouldn’t give to hear your voice one more time. He didn’t think it was possible to leave this dusty planet more upset than when he first landed, and yet here he is.

Jesse takes one last look at the place he initially despised, then turns to board the transport. It’s not just you that he left in the desert. He left his heart there too, on the rooftop of that old diner. He sits on one of the crates in the back of the transport and leans his head against the cold frame. He didn’t want this assignment. He didn’t want to come here. It could have been any other clone, but no, his number was drawn. The universe has a cruel sense of humor.

Before the ramp closes, Jesse hears someone calling for the transport to halt. Leaving his bucket on the crate, he makes his way back down the ramp to ask what’s delaying the departure, thinking it might be something mechanical. However, as he barely steps off the ramp and onto the dusty earth, he sees a speeder in the distance. He grabs a pair of scopes from a nearby clone trooper and dials in on the speeder. His breath catches in his throat. It’s you.

Jesse gives the scopes back to the clone trooper he took them from and starts walking away from the transport, his heart beating rapidly out of his chest, wondering if it’s really true or if the desert heat is playing tricks on him. Did you just want to say goodbye or do you want to go with him? He doesn’t dare let himself think the latter. You made it clear to him last night that you won’t go with him, but he wants to hope so badly. He wants to believe that it’s the only reason.

The speeder comes to a screeching halt a couple yards away from Jesse and he watches with bated breath as you jump out of it and sprint towards him.

“Jesse!” you yell as tears fall from your face.

Jesse smiles and opens his arms. You jump into them without a second thought and bury your face into his neck. He wraps his arms around you and lifts you off of the ground and onto his hips, one arm cradling your butt and the other securing around your back.

“I didn’t think I was going to make it in time,” you cry.

“You made it, mesh’la,” Jesse soothes as he kisses your cheek. “I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye.”

You pick your head up and look at him through blurry vision, a small smile growing on your lips. “Not goodbye. I’m going with you.”

Jesse’s eyes dart around your face, looking for any semblance that you’re joking or maybe this is a dream, but he can’t find anything. “You’re coming with me? To Coruscant?”

You nod your head, afraid that your voice will crack if you try to use it again.

Jesse squeezes you tighter, terrified that at any moment you’ll be ripped away from him. He can’t believe that you changed your mind, that you’re going back with him. His thoughts race a mile a minute as he thinks about your future together. He has a stake in this war now, something worth fighting for that wasn’t thrust upon him by someone else or programmed into him as duty and loyalty. No, now he has you, and he will fight this war to make sure you stay safe in his arms.

“Let’s go home,” Jesse says as he carries you into the transport.

You smile and rest your head on his shoulder. “I’d like that.”

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[captainpains]

After (Captain Rex x reader)

I am trying so hard to get as much written before I get swamped with work again. For the @clonexreaderbingo. Enjoy!

Prompt: Fantasy

Warnings: gn reader, daydreaming, Rex is crushing hard, short

~~~~~~~~

It was a question that some of the troops asked from time to time.

What do you want to do when the war ends?

It almost felt silly to answer the question. The idea of an “after” felt so hard to think about when the war seemed never ending. But, it gave some of them hope; that they’d get an after. 

Some of the boys would simply answer with a simple wish or job, very vague. While others would give detailed descriptions of what they wanted. A house on some outer rim planet, a kind partner, and a well meaning job were the most popular options. 

The 501st would ask this question on particularly difficult campaigns. It was just to distract from all that was happening around them.

“I think I’ll just settle down with my girl,” Fives answered. “A nice house on Naboo and a quiet life. Would be a nice change of pace.”

“Sounds nice,” Jesse nodded. “I wanna see some more of the outer rim. Would be nice to visit planets without a battle.”

The men around the fire nodded in agreement.

“What about you Rex?” Jesse asked.

Rex shrugged in response. To his men, he never seemed to think about the future. When asked, he only responded with a shrug or a noncommittal hum. 

But, Rex did think about it, a lot. He was only human.

In his fantasies, he had a farm on a quiet planet. Growing some crops to be sold or traded at market with a couple of animals. It would be far from any village and peaceful.

That was the after that he dreamed about.

But, then he met you.

As the head mechanic, Rex interacted with you quite often. He respected you as a leader and an equal. But, after a few months of knowing you, Rex started to get this tight feeling in his chest when he talked to you. He found himself staring at you from across the hanger, watching your skilled hands work. When he was talking to you, he would stare at your lips and completely forget to pay attention to what you were talking about. His brothers would tease him about it, never in your presence. Jesse was the most brutal with his teasing, knowing his Captain hated to be embarrassed.

Since his little crush on you started, Rex slowly began to fantasize about living his life after the war with you. 

A small farm house, with just enough room for two.

Early mornings spent snuggling in bed. Warmth and intimacy unlike any other. 

Working together, tending the fields. Or you would fix up a droid to make the work easier. You would check on him, making sure he took breaks. 

He wanted the two of you to go to the market together. It would be fun sampling food and watching the children play.

He imagined that you would watch the sunset together from the porch, a drink in his hands. 

It would be peaceful.

Maybe a little too peaceful.

Rex was shocked when his daydreams changed again. This time there was a crib in a spare room. A bright smile on your face as you leaned over it, cooing at the tiny infant fussing there. He’d never imagined something like that. Holding a small baby close to his chest while the person he loved tiredly gave him a kiss. 

Maybe, just maybe, he had more than a crush. 

[arctrooper69]

Don't Forget

Crosshair x Inquisitor!Reader

For the @clonexreaderbingo prompt "Don't forget"

Warnings: Mentions of torture (both mental and physical). Generally dark theme.

--------------------------------------------------

"They left you. They betrayed you. They hurt you."

It wasn't just the constant mental barrage of half truths and words twisted ruthlessly until you could no longer decipher your own thoughts. You could still feel the physical pain long after it was over - the electric agony coursing, stinging, burning through your veins. The smell of your own scorched flesh still lingered everytime you took a breath.

"Do you hate me now? Don't forget how angry that makes you. Let it fill you. Let it consume you. Let it grow until all you can taste is vengeance."

And it did. You let the anger fester inside of your veins like the chemicals they pumped to muddle your mind and dull your senses.

There is only much pain the human body can take before you become numb to everything else. There is only so much anger you can hold inside before you explode. When you explode, there's nothing left of who you were before and no one to pick up the pieces save for the one who made you this way in the first place. All the atrocities in the galaxy can be committed guiltlessly if you believe they wronged you first.

Crosshair knew this better than anyone but it still made him angry. It made him angry to see what they did to you. It made him angry to see how they broke you and built you back up in their own image. Just like him.

Empire. Inquisitor. Good soldiers follow orders either way.

"Don't forget that they left you. Don't forget the pain they put you through."

Don't forget.

Don't forget.

Don't forget.

"Remember the pain, the suffering, the anguish. Don't you want it to end?"

Don't forget who you are.

Crosshair sat on the cold, durasteel floor outside of the ray shielded cell they'd put you in. Force-binding shackles encircled your hands and feet. His brothers hadn't known what else to do. Your red-rimmed eyes starred at him, face contorting with rage. Maybe someday you'd come back to him. Maybe someday you'd forgive him.

"Do you remember who I am?" he asked softly.

--------------------------------------------------

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[dangraccoon]

Dogwood Flowers

Wrecker x Reader

@clonexreaderbingo

Square filled: spring

Word count: 631

Warnings: none; all fluff 💛

Mando'a key: cyar'ika - sweetheart olarom yaim - welcome home

“How much further?” you whined, dragging your feet for dramatic effect. 

“Just a bit, cyar’ika,” Wrecker laughed.

Doing your best tooka eyes, you pouted up at your partner. “Carry me, baby?”

Wrecker chuckled again. “You’re not gonna like how that ends.”

“Wanna bet?”

Wrecker laughed wildly, grabbing you by your hips and throwing you over his shoulder. You squealed in protest, your laughter filling his chest with warmth.

“Wrecker, I look like you caught me while you were fishing!”

“Prettiest fish in the whole galaxy!” he cheered.

He carried you through the streets of Lower Pabu, grinning widely and waving at each neighbor passing by, as your face flushed deeper and deeper as you saw the others chuckling.

The further he walked, the less people you saw. This was a newer section of Pabu, having been undeveloped before the sea surge. 

“Where are you taking me?” you giggled.

He chuckled, but didn’t answer. The sun was beginning to set, the new lamps flickering on, lining their path with light.

“Alright, cyar’ika,” he smiled, placing you down on the path, still facing him. “You ready?”

“For what?” you questioned, trying to read his expression beyond the excitement. 

He nodded to turn around. So you did, taking in a set of three new houses with the path circling to connect them. At the center of the circle was a small tree, its white flowers in full bloom and swaying gently in the spring breeze. 

“That one’s Hunter’s,” he said, pointing to the middle one. “Echo’s got a room when he’s here.” He pointed to the one on the right, closest to the water. “Tech and Crosshair are there.”

“They’re willing to share?” you chuckled.

Wrecker shrugged. “Cross said it was twin stuff.”

“Where’s Omega living?”

“She’s got the choice of all three, but she’ll probably be with Hunter most of the time.”

You nodded slowly. “So the one on the left…”

“Mine,” he confirmed, taking one of your hands in his. “And yours, if you want,” he added, his voice wavering just a little as he dropped a knee to the dirt.

Realization dawned over you, and he saw it on your face. “Wreck-”

“You make me so happy, and I-'' he began, desperately trying to ignore the tears beginning to drip down his face. “I think I make you happy, too. I don’t know how much time I have, but I would really, really like it if you would spend it with me. Cyar’ika, will you marry-”

“Yes!” You answered, jumping into his arms. 

He audibly sighed with relief as he pulled you close, lifting you off the ground.

“Oh, good; you agreed,” Tech said, stepping out of the middle house.

“Like there was ever any doubt,” Echo grinned from behind Hunter and Omega, who was running towards you. Crosshair smirked. “A little.”

Wrecker set you down just in time for you to catch Omega, who was throwing her arms around you.

You began to try and answer all the questions Omega had about your upcoming wedding as the others congratulated (Hunter, Tech, and Echo) and teased (Crosshair) their brother. 

After a little while, Wrecker smiled at you, gently offering his hand. You took it, allowing him to lead you into his house- your house. A big living room and kitchen on the first floor and three bedrooms on the second. 

He led you into the master bedroom, complete with an oversized bed that you were sure even your soon to be husband would fit in it. 

“What do you think, cyar’ika? Is it okay?” he asked. 

You smiled, reaching up to hold his face in your hands, your thumb tracing over the lines of his scar. “‘Okay’? Wrecker, it’s perfect.”

Wrecker pressed his forehead to yours, whispering softly. “Olarom yaim, cyar’ika.”

Thanks for reading! - River

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[flyiingsly]

Smoke Screen

Square : Fire

Pairing : Wolffe x gn!jedi!reader

Warnings : Hurt/confort, fire (a lot), angst, mention of burns and injuries, medical equipment, unconsciousness, mention of death, slight mention of alcool, Wolffe deserves a hug (and reader too)

Wordcount : 5,8k

Summary : Your battalion is sent as reinforcements to the 104th in anticipation of a potential separatist attack, but things turn out worse than expected, leading you to risk your own life to save your beloved Commander from a terrible fate.

A/N : My fourteenth submission for the @clonexreaderbingo ! I reaaally got carried away with this one, I was so hooked while writing this, it felt like I was living the whole situation for real, that was such a thrilling feeling and so much fun ! I love our favorite grumpy Commander so much, I just wanted to give him a bit of hurt/comfort, because I think that he really deserves to be protected and comforted, enjoy ❤

Fire.

Fire was the most frightening element in your opinion, the one you had always dreaded the most.

Even if it was a situation you were often facing during missions, you couldn’t help but feel that kind of crippling terror washing over your brain every time you found yourself surrounded by flames.

It only meant destruction and suffering to you, and no matter how much training and conditioning you’ve been through to control it better already, it was still here, in a little corner of your mind.

You were a jedi, you weren’t supposed to experience fear, but this one, you never thought that one day you’ll be able to fully overcome it.

But that was until you burst into that collapsing building, shielded by the force, trying to find your Commander, and hoping that he had survived the outpost’s attack.

***

It all started when you arrived with Obi-Wan and the 212th on a little Outer Rim’s planet on which you’ve never been before, to give support and reinforcement to General Plo Koon. He needed more men on his current mission, and of course, you volunteered immediately. Master Plo was a dear friend of yours, and you were worried for him and his men.

You came to know the 104th very well, either by fighting along them, but also by all the time you were spending with the clones of the 212th, for between missions, the different battalions often shared their free time together.

You, in general, had developed a very close bond with the clones, so you were immediately adopted by the 104th as well. But there’s one particular person with who you happened to came along even better.

Commander Wolffe was a bit distant at first. He seemed like he always had a hard time trusting new people by what Rex and Cody told you. But if you had the perseverance to get to know him and to pass through the rude first impression he was giving, he could become one of the most trustworthy and kind person you’ve ever known.

What a chance, you were patient, and what you didn’t know at that time was that he got an eye on you since the first time he met you.

It was right after Plo Koon’s ship was attacked by General Grievous and his Malevolence.  You and Ahsoka insisted to go in search for Master Plo and what was left of his men, and despite the disapproval of Obi-Wan and Master Windu, Anakin and the two of you still decided to give it a try.

The unauthorized mission was a success, you arrived just in time to save them, and Wolffe was very moved by that first encounter. You were intriguing, you were kind and caring toward the clones like not so many other natborns were. You were gifted with healing abilities, and seeing you take care of his wounded men made him feel something he wasn’t used to truly experience. Safety.

You were in the middle of the space, somewhere none of you were supposed to be, chased by the most deadliest general of the Separatist army, his ship had been destroyed, he lost most of his men, he just nearly died and still wasn’t sure if he was going to survive that mission …. He should have felt doomed and frightened right now, but instead, he couldn’t help but feel safe with you on board, watching over him and his fellow troopers.

He stayed far from you for the next few times you two met again. He just looked at you from a distance, trying to hide his interest and fascination toward you the best he could. He knew very well he couldn’t afford himself the luxury of getting too attached to someone, especially to a jedi, for it will never be reciprocate anyway.

But one night, as you were with members of the 501st, 212th and 104th at the 79’, Rex and Cody became frustrated to see him burn to talk to you and never even try to do it. Of course you had tried to start a conversation with him a couple times already, and he always seemed to use his best energy to stay cold with you. You knew it was going to take time for him to open up to you, and so you were determined to give him as much as he’ll need.

Except that they weren’t hearing it that way.

It took Wolffe a bunch of drinks and a monstrous amount of courage, but pushed by his two brothers, he eventually gathered himself to go talk to you. It was a very funny moment, for when he came in front of you, you looked at him with a surprised look at first, before a wide smile appeared on your face, a smile that was screaming “finally”.

His heart melted, his cheeks started to blush badly and he found himself unable to say anything for a whole minute straight.

And that’s how it began between the two of you. As he was expecting it, he grew very fond of you, and you quickly became really close, never missing an occasion to spend some time together. You weren’t sharing that much missions or battlefields, for you were mostly assigned to the 212th, but you were always keeping in touch, no matter how far from each other you were sent.

But as the time passed by, something more than just friendship started to grow inside of him. It was something scary at first, because it was the very thing he was afraid of and wanted to avoid in the first place, and maybe the worse that could happen to someone in time of war.

He eventually ended up accepting it after realizing that he couldn’t get rid of it no matter how hard he tried. It never changed anything between you nonetheless, for he was doing his best to not let his new feelings ruin your already existent relationship, keeping it all for himself, hiding it at the bottom of his heart and promising to never tell you anything about it.

You were now way too important to him for that, and he knew that he could never handle to lose you or break that special bond. It was easier that way he thought, and the only thing that really mattered to him in the end was your safety. As long as you were safe and alive, it was enough for him.

But little did he know the he wasn’t the only one to feel the same.

***

The planet you were headed to was a highly valuable ally for the Republic, for it was hosting in its ground the biggest stock of a very rare and expensive kind of metal in the whole galaxy. That component was needed for the fabrication of a vast range of weapon’s and ship’s parts, and at the beginning of the war, its government managed to sign a contract with the Chancellor, allowing the GAR to be the one and only entity to use those resources, much to the disapproval of the separatists, of course.

In exchange, the Senate agreed to provide protection to the planet and its inhabitants against whatever would want to attack them, which was the reason why you were send here. The Senate Intelligence had reported that an attack from the separatist to steal its resources was planned a few days ahead, and that the troops already on place would never be enough to block it, so they urgently needed reinforcements.

But after a week, there was still no sign of any kind of attack. Nothing coming from the sky, no signs of spies amongst the population, not a single droid spotted anywhere. It was strange, for the source was a very trusted one and was usually always giving correct information, but both the Senate and the Order were starting to think about sending the reinforcements back to Coruscant. Maybe it really was just a false alarm after all.

Something was off about this whole situation, and you weren’t the only one thinking it. Both Master Plo and Obi-Wan were trying to convince the Senate to let your battalion stay longer, just to make sure that everything was really alright. Something felt wrong here, you could feel it, but without really explaining why, like if something was happening right under your nose, in the shadows.

One particular place on this planet was giving you a disturbing feeling : an old abandoned mine on the outskirt of the capital city. It was once one of the biggest of the area, and that was why the city had been built near. It wasn’t used anymore, because the deposit had been drained long ago, and the whole mining structures and tunnels had become unstable and dangerous, so its access was now completely forbidden.

You knew you needed to go investigate that mine, even Master Plo was starting to agree with you on that. Nobody had thought about it before because it was supposed to be abandoned, and most importantly, it wasn’t seen as a menace, since the attack was mostly awaited from the sky. So after successful negotiations with the Senate to get a couple more day on site, you and Obi-Wan decided to go visit it and see what you could find there.

And of course, your instinct was right all along.

It didn’t take you long to find some traces of recent mining activities and to bump into a bunch of mining droids busy extracting the few remaining metal from the walls of its many caves. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing at first. You had absolutely no idea how and since when the separatists have been secretly exploiting that place, and most importantly, how they managed to reach the planet without being caught. It was impressive and frightening at the same time.

You tried to get out of here without drawing attention on you, but you got noticed by a probe droid on your way out. You quickly destroyed it and decided to take a closer look at it while Obi-Wan was calling the outpost to inform them of your discovery.

Probes droids were too heavy to be transported easily, but you still wanted to analyze it to maybe get a chance to find information on its sender.

When you plugged your datapad to its system, you realized that it had already given your position away and managed to download the coordinates to where the message had been sent. But something else caught your eyes. You noticed that in addition of your position, another message had been sent by the probe before it was taken down.

When the transcription of this second message appeared on your screen, the words made your blood curdle.

“Republic found us, activate outpost bomb.”

You let out a gasp of horror, your datapad nearly falling from your hands.

“We need to go back, now !” you yelled at Obi-Wan, unplugging your datapad in a hurry.

“(y/n), what did you saw ?” he asked worriedly.

“The probe sent a message with the order to “activate the outpost bomb”, they must have known that we were going to find them someday and booby trapped the outpost in anticipation, probably to cut its communications and prevent anyone from stopping their little traffic. Our troops are in danger, we need to make them get out of the building right now !”

You started to run as fast as possible toward the entrance of the mine, closely followed by your fellow jedi who was frantically trying to call his Commander again.

“Cody, we have been fooled, the outpost is compromised, the separatists have been hiding underground all along !” Obi Wan shouted through his commlink as soon as he heard his voice pick up the call.

“What ? How ?” the clone answered in a surprised tone.

“Please, we don’t have time to explain more, tell Wolffe and Master Plo to gather all of your men, you need to evacuate the place, now, please !” You added, out of breath.

“Copy that !”

The communication cut. The only thing left to do now was to pray for them to be able to escape on time.

A couple minutes later, as you were coming closer from the building, the sound of an explosion loudly ringed out, making the ground violently shake under your feet, stopping you in your tracks and making you lose your balance, nearly falling down.

“Oh kriff, no !” you screamed, instantly understanding what had just happened.

It was too late.

A wave of panic overwhelmed your body, and you soon started to run with even more determination. You were so fast that Obi-Wan could barely keep your pace.

When you finally got the outpost at eyes sight, you immediately noticed Master Plo and Cody, gathered with men from both of their battalions, standing far enough to be safe from the ferocious and high flames that where now eating what was remaining of the structure.

The two superior floors were completely destroyed and collapsed, only the ground floor was still standing, but it was drowned under a massive amount of scrapped metal, concrete and shattered glass.

“Are you okay ?” you desperately let out at them as soon as you were close enough for them to hear you.

“Yeah, it’s okay, thanks to you, we could never have find out without your warning.” The commander answered.

“Did everybody escaped ? Are all of your men safe ?” you frantically asked, still in complete shock and looking around you, counting the troops before they can ever answer your question.

“Wait, someone’s missing …” you suddenly realized, “Where … Where is Wolffe ?” your voice was filled with concern, and you couldn’t even try to hide it as another wave of panic violently hit you.

 “He didn’t make it …”

“Wh .. What ?” you mumbled, feeling your whole body starting to shake nervously.

“He was still inside when the explosion happened, he wanted to make sure that everyone was outside, he didn’t want to leave anyone behind, but … He didn’t pass the door ... Then the building collapsed and the flames were fast to spread, we couldn’t do anything ...”

As soon as you heard these words, you felt like the whole world was crumbling around you. It was like if someone has hit you right in the chest, so strongly that your heart had just stopped beating. Your head started to spin and for a moment you thought that you were about to faint. But you were perfectly motionless, eyes staring into space, completely paralyzed.

“(Y/n), are you ok ?”

Cody’s voice was like an electroshock pulling you out of your thought and back to reality. It took you a few eyes blinks to be able to see clearly again, but without a warning you started to run toward the building. Instantly understanding what you were trying to do, Obi-Wan stopped you in your tracks, using the force against you to lift you up, making your feet leave their contact with the ground.

“(Y/n), it’s too late, you can’t do anything for him now, you have to let it go !”

You were trying to resist, but he was more powerful than you. But you just couldn’t let that happen, you just couldn’t stay here and watch the whole edifice burn to the ground without even trying to do something to rescue him, even if it meant risking your own life in the process. He meant too much to you for you to just leave him here to die alone.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm down and concentrate, and then, gathering all of your strength, you turned back to face the jedi despite all the power unleashed against you.

“I’m sorry Obi-Wan, I just can’t do that.”

Without a warning, you threw the most powerful force wave you had ever created in his direction, sending him flying away. You fall flat in the dirt from the released pressure but get up on your feet quickly. No one could have ever stopped you from doing it, and everyone perfectly knew that there was no point on trying, for you would not let anyone stand in your way.

When you arrived right in front of the outpost, you managed to find the former main entrance. The door was gone, and at its place was now a gaping hole. You took another deep breath, and, collecting your energy once again, you created a force shield around before entering the blazing inferno.

The heat was already hard to bear on the outside, but now that you were inside, even with your shield, it was barely tolerable. You had absolutely no visibility, for the smoke and the flames had took the whole space, making it impossible to distinguish anything ahead from a few feet away. In a desperate attempt to locate Wolffe, you yelled his name at the top of your lungs, without, obviously, getting any answer.

You tried to stay calm, thinking about what Cody just told you. He was right behind them when they escaped, so he shouldn’t be that far from the entrance. You weren’t able to see anything, so you decided to close your eyes and focus on what force signatures you could feel around you. Soon, you started to perceive a distant and faint pulse. Something was still living under this blaze, and even if it seemed weak, it was here nonetheless.

With your instinct guiding you, you started to move forward, stepping over a few massive concrete obstacles. The heat was making you sweat abundantly under your robes, and you had a hard time keeping your eyes opened.

You tried to call his name again, despite knowing that nobody was going to call back. You continued to move forward, the presence was getting nearer, but the path to reach it seemed never ending. You had only been here for a very short amount of time, but it felt like light years in these conditions.

As you made a turn to avoid a big concrete wall part that had felt through the ceiling, you let out a gasp as you saw a human looking shape laying on the floor.

“Wolffe !” you screamed, quickening your pace to reach him faster.

As you were getting closer, the shape became more and more recognizable. You were right, it was a human form, and it was armored. Despite the yellowish atmosphere and the messed up colors, you still were able to catch a glimpse of the grey of his armor paint, as well as the special 104th design he was wearing on his spaulder. It was him, there was no doubt about that.

You closed the distance separating the two of you quickly, creating yourself a way through the flames with the help of the force.

“Wolffe …” you breathed out, falling on your knees next to him when you finally reached him, a lump growing in your throat. You knew that there was no time to check on him right here and right now, the absolute priority was to extract him from that hell. He was still wearing his helmet on, and even if you were dying to remove it to see his face and check his breath, you knew you couldn’t.

Maintaining a force shield around you was exhausting, but you still managed to find enough strength to lift him from the ground in your arms, wrapping them around his legs and back. But as soon as your hands came in contact with his armor, you felt the metal’s heat burning your palms and irradiating your arms through your robe’s sleeves. You hissed in pain and clenched your jaws but didn’t let go, the adrenaline helping you ignore it.

You stood up quickly despite that he was heavier than you, just in time to dodge a chunk of concrete falling from the ceiling. You quickly locate the door from where you came in and rushed toward it, praying that your eyes hadn’t fooled you on this time. Your head started to hurt and your vision to blur, it became harder and harder to breathe, and the heat was less and less bearable. Your heart was pounding so fast in your chest that it felt like it was about to explode, and you knew that soon, your body will not be able to take it anymore. Fortunately, you were on the right way, getting closer and closer to the escape.

A few steps away from the exit, you heard a loud crack noise coming from above you, just after realizing that a pile a debris was now baring the path. What was left of the first floor was probably going to fall on you in the next seconds, and in a desperate move, you broke your force shield and directed all of your energy toward the entrance, blowing the obstacles toward the outside to clear the way. Right after, you were out in the fresh air without even remembering how you made it.

Your pace accelerated, and you were now running frantically toward the rest of the battalion, putting as much distance as possible between you and the collapsing building

As you were getting closer to them, you heard someone scream something to the other, and suddenly everyone turned out from what they were doing to look at you. All of yours and Master Plo’s men saw you run toward the blaze and disappeared into it, and they were all waiting for your return in concern.

When you arrived at their level and stopped, you were panting and sweating like never before, and you felt like if you were chocking. The jedi immediately came toward you, asking you if you were alright, but you barely paid attention to them, too busy worrying about the man you were carrying. The atmosphere became heavy and tensed when the Wolfpack realized that their commander was completely still and not moving at all.

“I need a medic, please, can someone help me ?” you burst as you lowered down to gently lay him on the ground, drained and barely standing on your feet anymore, your throat still hurting and your voice harsh from inhaling too much smoke.

An agitation took over the men gathered around you and some of them rushed to find a medic. An anxious silence felt on the group as you bend over Wolffe and started to cautiously remove his helmet. Nobody dared to say a world, they all seemed to hold their breath, even the jedi stayed quiet. Your heart was still beating fast, but not from your run this time. You were afraid of what you could find under that bucket, and it skipped a bit when you saw his face. He was looking just like if he was asleep, almost too peaceful despite what he had just been through.

You checked his breath and his pulse, and a heavy sigh of relief escaped you when you realized that they hadn’t stopped.

“It’s ok, he’s alive” you quietly told Master Plo, who was crouched next to you, without taking your eyes off of the clone.

“Thanks to you, he was doomed without your help, you surely were his guardian angel on that one, (Y/n), once again.”

His last words made your head raise to look at him with surprise. It was something Wolffe once told you, when you were at his bedside after Ventress ripped his eye off. He told you how lucky he was that you had found him on time before she had the chance to finish him, and that you brought him back to the base when someone else would have probably left him behind to die.

He called you his guardian angel, and those words made your heart burst. That day, you promised him that you will never abandon him no matter what could happen.

Your gazes met, and you stayed like that for a moment, staring at each other. That look the Kel Dor gave you was powerfully meaningful, you knew he was trying to tell you something, but you couldn’t exactly understand what. Then suddenly, you heard his voice ringing into your head, out of nowhere.

“I know I shouldn’t tell you that, but I think that you two will need to seriously discuss those feelings after all of this.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. Did a Jedi Master just suggested you to confess your feelings to someone ? A ton of things came swirling in your mind at his words. How did he knew ? Were you not hiding it well enough ? Did he felt it through the force ?

Of course, he knew, he was one of the closest person to Wolffe along with you, and even if you had been trying your best to ignore and repress your feelings, maybe just the way you cared for each other and spent so much time together was making it obvious.

You didn’t get more time to think about it, as you caught a glimpse of three medics running toward you from the corner of your eyes. You raised your head to look at them, breaking the eye contact with Plo, but his voice came to your mind once again.

“He really is attached to you, you know.”

“I know” you whispered in response, low enough so Obi-Wan, who was standing next to you, could not hear it, “I am, too …”

The medics were by your side in no time, and you moved aside to give them some space to work. Two of them checked on the commander, while the third was standing next to a stretcher he brought.

“General, are you ok ?” he asked you.

“Yeah, just a bit dizzy from the smoke, I feel like my lungs are full of ashes … But I’ll be alright.” You absent mindlessly answered, raising a hand to your face to swept the sweat still running on your forehead.

 “General, your hands, they’re burned !” he suddenly exclaimed with concern.

It was only at that moment that you realized how badly your skin had been burned and was hurting. Suddenly, you felt all the heavy weight of pressure and stress being lifted from your shoulders. A violent shiver came running through your spine despite the heat waves that were still striking at you, making you realized that you didn’t even get rid of your half consumed robes. You felt even more worn out, and all you were able to do was to stare at him with a vacant look, completely unable to react or speak anymore.

What happened next was so fast that you barely realized it, and you completely lost track of time.

Wolffe was placed on the stretcher and hooked to a respirator, for his lungs had been critically exposed to smoke. Then the medics removed his armor to examine the extent of his wounds. It was mostly burns, but fortunately not severe ones. They told you that a couple of bacta patches will be enough to treat them. You, too, were sat on a stretcher and gave a respirator, as well as a couples bacta patches for your hands and forearms.

 Soon after, reinforcement ships arrived to evacuate everyone and take you far from that hell of a planet. There was no point in staying here now that the outpost as well as all of the equipment had been completely destroyed. Wolffe’s state was stabilized, but he was still unconscious when you came onboard. You stayed close to him all the way back to Coruscant, hoping for him to wake up soon.

***

It took him a couple more hours after landing on Coruscant and being transferred to the GAR med bay to emerge from his coma. You stood by his side the whole time, waiting patiently for him to regain consciousness. You were exhausted, but you couldn’t allow yourself to fall asleep, not wanting to miss the moment when he’ll open his eyes.

When he finally did, he looked all around him in confusion, not understanding why and how he ended up here. He was still wearing a respirator, and run his hands through it, trying to figure out what was that thing attached to his face. Then he stared at his arms, to which some electrodes plugged to a monitor and some bacta patches were stuck, before painfully trying to sit up straight. When he noticed your presence, his eyes started to sparkles and his face instantly enlightened.

“(Y/n) …” he whispered with a weak voice.

“Hey …” you whispered back with a relieved smile.

“What, what happened ? Why am I here?”

“Well, you got trapped in the fire back at the outpost, when helping our troops to get out. You fell unconscious, so we had to extract you from the building … But you’re safe now, back on Coruscant. The medics said that your burns were only superficial. The patches will heal them in no time !”

“I barely remember it … I just remember the explosion, and that I gathered my men to evacuate, the fire was spreading so fast … But after that, nothing … How are the other ? Are they safe ? I did my best to lead them outside but …” he sighed, his brows furrowing and his face tensing worriedly.

“They’re fine, all of them, thanks to you. Don’t worry, you did the best thing you could have done for them. And you, how do you feel now ?”

“Strange honestly, but not so bad. I can feel the burns, it hurts, but it’s still bearable. I just feel awfully tired … And thirsty.”

“Great”, you chuckled, handing him a glass of water that was settled on his bed table, “You’ll feel better soon, you just need to rest for now.”

He took the glass and drank it in one gulp, quickly putting his oxygen mask back in place right after, as he was starting to cough and struggle to breath without it.

He was lost in thoughts, replaying his memories in his mind, when he noticed your hands and arms entirely bandaged, only leaving the tips of some of your fingers exposed.

“Wait, were you hurt ? Are you ok ? What happened ?” he let out with an expression of deep concern.

You lowered your head at his words, hesitant to tell him the truth, suddenly feeling irrationally embarrassed and self-conscious.

“(Y/n) ? Are you okay ?”

“It … It happened when I pulled you out of the building after you fell unconscious … The metal of your armor was very hot because of the fire … But that’s okay, I’m fine, its already nearly healed !” you said quietly, smiling shyly and trying to be as reassuring as possible.

“You did what ?” he exclaimed with widening eyes.

“I … get back inside the building to found you when they told me that you didn’t get out on time …”

You both stayed silent for a moment, Wolffe trying to process what he had just heard.

“Why did you do that ? You could have been killed …” his voice was trembling, and you weren’t sure if he was reprimanding you or if he was just very surprised and worried.

“I know, but I wasn’t thinking about it at this moment, I was only thinking about you … I told you that I’ll always be here to watch your back, remember ? I just couldn’t leave you behind you know, I knew that you were still alive, I could feel it through the Force, I just couldn’t leave you here to die, that wasn’t even an option …”

His expression softened, you were right, you promised, and he knew that you were sincere about it, but he could never have imagined that you’ll literally jump into fire for him. He was so moved by your words that he found himself unable to refrain the words that were swirling over and over again and flashing in capital letters to his mind to escape from his mouth.

“I love you, (Y/n) …” he breathed out, his gaze lost on you.

It was your turn to stare at him with a confused expression.

“Sorry, what ?” you mumbled, not sure if you had just dreamed that or not.

“I love you, (Y/n).” he repeated, a bit louder, “I should have told you that before but … I wasn’t courageous enough to do it. But now I just need you to know, because maybe next time I will not be that lucky to have you by my side to save me, and I don’t want to die without having had the chance to tell it to you. You are the best thing that ever happened to me, and now I owe you my life … You truly are my guardian angel, and I love you more than anything in this world.”

You felt your eyes becoming watery, and without detaching them from him, you moved from your chair to the edge of his bed, sitting close to him, and carefully wrapped your arms around his body, before burying your face in the crook of his neck.

His skin was warm as if it was still soaked with the fire’s heat. You completely melted as he snuggles against you, his own arms encircling you, and one of his hand settled on your head, softly running its fingers through your hair.

“I don’t want to think about the eventuality of losing you …”, you muttered in his ear, voice filled with emotion, “I Just want you to know that I’ll do whatever I can to protect you, I can’t express how important you are to me, I just know that I could never live in a world where you’re not by my side anymore … I love you too, and I just want to stay your guardian angel for as long as possible …”

You felt his embrace around you tighten a bit, and you hear him sighed in relief through his respirator.

“Thank you” he muttered back, his own eyes starting to be submerged with tears, “I’ll do my best to stay with you as long as I can then, I promise you, mesh’la, I just want to be with you.”

After a moment, you let go of his neck and planted a soft kiss on his forehead. He closed his eyes and you felt him shivered under your lips, his cheeks turning a bright tone of red.

“I wish I could take that mask off to kiss you, but I’m afraid I might suffocate again if I try too …” he met out with disappointment.

“Don’t worry about that” you giggled, “we’ll have plenty of time to catch it up when you’ll get better.”

“I can’t wait for it”, he whispered, a fond smile instantly appearing on his face, before pulling in for another gentle and long-awaited hug.

[sinfulsalutations]

𝕨𝕣𝕖𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕣'𝕤 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕒 𝕜𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕟 𝕚𝕟 𝕒 𝕤𝕦𝕟𝕓𝕖𝕒𝕞 ⋆*･ﾟ

He loves to soak in the sun.

When you're on Pabu he spends far too much time in the late afternoon basking in a hammock, arms wrapped around your body as you lay on his chest.

The first time, he caught you by the wrist when you were walking past him. You startle with a small gasp; you hadn't realized he was awake.

Wrecker gifts you a warm, sun-soaked smile and pulls you closer to where he lies. Automatically, even with your surprise, your arms wrap around his neck and a giddy grin of pure adoration spreads on your face. 

"Enjoyed your nap?" You ask him.

He flashes a toothy look and nods.

"I did, cyare," he says, before clicking his tongue and shaking his head ever-so-slightly. You tilt your head and try not to smile so eagerly. "But I'm not ready to get up just yet," he continues.

You raise an eyebrow.

"Oh?"

"Oh," he confirms. Suddenly, his large hands come to your waist, spinning you a full 180 until your back meets his chest. You squeak, but he tuts softly and places a sweet kiss on your shoulder to soothe you, resting his chin there instead after a moment.

Now you both look over the orange, red and yellow strokes that paint the sky, the sun overlooking the rippling water. In it, there's so much calm; so much peace. You can feel any thoughts disappear in the arms of your boyfriend as you look at the sunset.

"It's so beautiful today," he comments, and with an unconfined feeling of liberation and pure bliss, you hum and nod softly in agreement.

"It is."

"Would you watch it with me?"

"Of course."

Slowly to not startle you, he pulls you into the hammock; you twist so your chests press together and you tuck your head under his chin. Both of your eyes on the sunset, the warm rays tingling your skin, slowly melting slowly into each other's embrace just might be the most calming view in the entire galaxy.

p.s. written for the clone x reader bingo! this marks out 'wrecker' and 'weather' on each of my challenge cards. ~ tags: @clonexreaderbingo @pb-jellybeans @corrieguards @badbatchbabe @ladytano420 @jediknightjana