#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.”

[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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[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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[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

[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 ★

[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. 

[dragonrider9905]

Don’t Call Me Flower

Alright @techs-stitches! At long last, it is here!!!!! I finally finished the square you requested! I really hope you like it and thanks for the prompt :)

This story is a participating piece in @clonexreaderbingo.

Square: Phee

Attempt number 283: failed. 

You fumbled and mumbled over your words and the babbling turned into a short stutter. 

Luckily he didn’t seem to notice. 

Ugh.

You’ve tried starting a conversation with Tech 283 times since he arrived on Pabu, but each ended in a complete and utter failure. You were cut off, not loud enough, or your tongue would tie itself in knots. 

This isn’t saying you haven’t talked to him; you have…just never from your own initiative. Phee helped introduce you a great deal (you believed there was more to her motive here than just being friendly and inclusive like normal), one of the other Batchers or Omega brought you into the conversation, or Tech himself struck up an interesting comment. If the latter was the case, most of the time you just listened anyway and didn’t have an obligation to say much other than your appreciation of his observations. 

It’s been exactly three weeks since this ragtag group of clones arrived on your little paradise. Good thing they came when they did too. They’d become an important part of the community after the tidal wave that wreaked havoc on the island’s home and uprooted their entire lives. 

They were the breath of fresh air on a hot summer’s day which cools, but doesn’t chill. The kind that fills you with contended energy, and adventurous spirit.

And Tech, well, he’d caught your attention right away at Shep’s house; Phee invited you to join them for dinner the first night they were there. You smiled, seeing him hunched over his datapad. It was kinda funny, and cute in a way and you decided to try to pull his attention from it. You weren’t very successful. Phee was better at it than you but she worked some magic with her words then somehow always left the conversation suddenly and you and Tech would be ‘stuck’ with each other. 

Then the tidal wave hit and you, Tech, and Phee made a great team rescuing the people of Pabu.

That introduced a whole new tie you had with the clone but somehow, even though you worked well together, you were still shy when it was only the two of you, and struggled with making yourself seen or heard in a semi-intelligent way. 

Tech would come by more often than not with a new idea about improving town life (if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he’d enjoyed it and wanted to talk to you. Did he seem excited when he approached you? You wanted to say so *shrugs internally*) which would segway into other ideas and conversations. The topics always varied, but whatever it was, you always enjoyed it. 

What really made you fall for Tech (or when you finally realized it or stopped denying it or admitted to labeling this nonsensical attraction that drew you to him—you haven’t decided which one to choose yet) was when you were discussing your name to the Batch. How it came up, you didn’t remember. You thought maybe Wrecker or Omega commented on how cool it sounded. It was a normal name to you, and you told them what it meant and how your parents chose it for you before they passed. Phee had mentioned she had various nicknames for you. Of course, you turned bashful as she was naming them off but couldn’t help your outburst as she concluded:

“Those are my special names for her. I don’t know what you lot will call her, but you can’t borrow mine. They’re exclusively for me to use, so you’ll just have to think of something else special for her.”

“Call me anything, but DON’T call me flower!” 

“Why?” Tech tilted his head curiously to the side at your pout and curious out of character announcement.

“Would you like to explain to them why I don’t want to be called that?”

“It’s short for wallflower. Many of the town's kids growing up would call her that.”

“Wait, what? I don’t get it? Flowers are nice.” Wrecker scratched his head, confused.

“Ah, I understand the negative connotation. Wallflower is a term defined as a person who from shyness or unpopularity remains on the sidelines of a social activity. Often, the term is given to mean someone who is unattractive as well.”

You groaned and couldn’t repress an eyeroll, regretting it minutes later. You cringed at how you must have sounded at Tech’s explanation. 

“Flowers are also fragile and weak. Often trampled without a second thought.” You finished for him, crossing your arms annoyed. “So any way you look at it, it just isn’t…” you waved your hand dismissively.  

“Yes, but flowers are also…beautiful.”

The way he looked at you just then made your heart melt, your stomach twist with too many butterflies fluttering, and a red heat filled your face. 

His eyes were perfect and shining. Not looking down at his datapad making an off comment, but rather, they focused on you and his words felt very intentional. A small smile graced his lips and something gentle blanketed his face. 

“Besides, flowers can surprise you by being rather resilient and resourceful. Never underestimate.” 

He proceeded to name many species that were eye-catching and cunning for being plants.

How could you not? 

Tell me, who could blame you for letting something blossom in your heart after that? 

Thinking back to that day always made you feel better after a blunder. As mentioned, 283 times, but you never tired of looking back. It calmed you and encouraged you to try again; maybe you’d be able to have him look at you the same way again.

Currently though, you were sitting on the deck of Shep’s boat. Leyana wanted to take everyone out on the water after a long day of rebuilding the city. She and Omega were playing about the boat, Shep was steering the ship, and everyone else sat about stirring their drinks and telling jokes, laughing and relaxing. Tech was on his datapad but also joined in with comments of his own. When Phee asked him why he didn’t just put the thing down, he claimed he could do both.

That earned an eye roll from Omega and Wrecker. You wondered what warranted that. 

“What’s got your tongue tied, Gorgeous?” Phee came up beside you, while all the others looked out over the water at the coming sunset, putting an encouraging arm around your shoulders. By the look in her eye, she already knew.

You and Phee had been attached at the hip ever since you were born. She definitely was the older sister you never had. Growing up, she was always getting you in trouble and pulling you out of it. Phee looked out for you and practically raised you. She was only a few years older but sometimes when she got protective of you, it felt like she was much older than she naturally was. Kids weren’t always kind; you got bullied and called all sorts of things but Phee never let it slide. She got put in detention a few times at school for the extent she’d look out for you. You’d wait for her on the swingset outside and walk home together, every night without fail. 

You loved her, and never minded how different the two of you were. She was everything you weren’t, and you admired that. Together, you felt like a complete circle. Where she was outgoing, adventurous, spirited, confident; you were calm, shy and nervous. You were cautious when she threw credits to the wind. You were observant, watchful and insightful, playing in the shadows, calculating, accurately foretelling, while she confidently and boldly put out her ideas. You never minded being in her shadow, until now. It felt like only she would ever see the light you had to offer. It wasn’t the same kind as hers, but that didn’t make it any less special. She made sure you knew that, but it would be nice having it come from someone else as well…

You groaned. 

“How do you do it, Phee? It all comes so naturally to you. You can flirt, be fun and express what you feel and it comes across amazingly. When I try just getting a sentence out around him I can barely string a thought into words. And it doesn’t have to be an important thought either. Just saying I like the same berry juice he does sounds stupid. Why am I like this?” 

You let your head fall forward and hit the table with a bang.

“I’m hopeless.”

“You must reeeaaaally like Tech if you’re vaguely mentioning him.”

You didn’t reply. You just let your shoulders droop and turn to face her with a scowl. Her grin was teasing but her eyes sparkled softly. 

“I think you and Brown Eyes would make an amazing couple. He could learn a few things from you. Hun, just let him see the amazing woman I know.”

Phee gave your arm an encouraging squeeze.

“And I got a few ideas that might help him!”

“Really?” 

“Of course! That one can be kind of dense. He probably likes you but doesn’t even know it. Let’s help him realize it, shall we?”

“I don’t know about that…I don’t know if he even knows I’m alive.”

“If he doesn’t, I’m going to fix that too; even if I have to smack him in the face.”

“Don’t do that!”

“Not literally, Hun, figuratively.”

“Oh, as long as it doesn’t hurt.”

Phee chuckled, “Oh I can’t promise that. I’m going to make him notice you one way or another if it’s the last thing I do.”

“Now I feel like I should be nervous. Phee, what are you planning?”

“You leave that to me. And why on earth would you be nervous; it’s me we’re talking about here!”

“Isn’t that reason enough?”

“Very fair.”

Your grins were missed by everyone except for a goggled pair of eyes. He didn’t know why you were smiling, but he was happy to see it. He only wished he could have been the reason.

— — — 

Phee’s first attempt at matchmaking arose the next day, and did she have an idea! Phee assigned you and Tech to work on a pier so there could be more ports on the island for fishing and boating. 

You were handy and confident working with your hands. Phee knew you’d be at ease doing something you were capable of with your eyes closed. Perhaps you could teach Tech a thing or two as well. That would boost your confidence and your conversation topics. 

And Phee was right, for the most part.

You and Tech worked in perfect synchrony—and the repairs took the entire day so by the time the work was done, it was sunset. There were absolutely no hiccups with the construction. 

“I think we’re set!” You said excitedly testing the boards you both were kneeling on, “We should be able to head in for dinner.” You spoke too soon. The nails poking out on the board just under you caught your eye. You’d have to make sure those were bent out of the way so no one would get hurt.  “Oh drats.”

“Hm, it shouldn’t be too hard to fix. We’ll only be delayed a few moments.”

Tech rolled up his sleeves. Your jaw dropped in a gawk. 

“Oh…”

Tech’s eyes snapped to yours, head tilted curiously. 

“Ohhhh…..ohhh! Look!” You tried to cover up your blunder by pulling your eyes away from his forearms and to the water, pointing down at the glowing algae. “They never glow blue. They usually are green. Do you know why?” 

You looked up at the same time Tech was bending over to look down, hitting your heads on each other. The shock of the hurt sent you both hurtling into the water. 

Gasping and spluttering, you both emerged from the water covered with the glowing sea plant. 

“Well this was an unexpected pleasure.”

At first you couldn’t tell if Tech was being sarcastic or not but then you saw him examining the algae. “Quite impressive.”

“Yeah, it is.”

Looking into the water surrounding you illuminated by the mysterious blue, you missed the enchanted look he gave you. Of course, you couldn’t read his thoughts, but if you could, you would have known that the incident made him chuckle internally and it was worth it to see you crowned in the elegant plant. It was beautiful, tangled and dripping from your hair while the orange gold of sunset threw its color on you. You rather looked like a siren, calling him to you. 

But no, instead, you could only think all you accomplished was getting Tech thoroughly soaked and even more late for dinner because of your mishap. Now you’d have a matching bruise at least. That was something, right? Maybe? Maybe not? At least he got to examine the algae, that was a win. But he probably now thought you were a klutz. 

You couldn’t know how impressed he was with your skill. 

— — —

Phee wasn’t discouraged though. Her next idea was great in the planning and execution, for the most part. You somehow found a way to bangle it up. 

She asked you to make your favorite dish so everyone could go on a picnic. There was a beautiful field on the other side of Pabu where the scenery was green and lush and the animals were frequent visitors. It would be a fun and relaxing way to end the day.

Originally, it was supposed to be Phee, Shep, Leyana, and the Batch…or at least that is what you were told, but somehow, Tech was the only one who showed up—also under the same impression. 

You immediately saw right through the scheme but said nothing, blushing a deep red and internally cringing at the fact you didn’t see this coming. In fact, this is a scheme you pulled on Phee last year. She was just reusing it. You were relieved to see Tech did not catch on and thought it was a mishap the others didn’t show up. His brothers and sister had a last minute accident resulting in them not being able to go (which of course you knew was orchestrated between Phee and the others. How could it not. You’d put money on the guess Omega was in on this too.)

“No use letting the food go to waste, right?” You tried to shrug off the awkwardness, and it worked.

Tech heartily agreed and while you ate, your shyness melted away. You found yourselves swapping stories about those who you both loved and were not present. Laughing at foolish stories and regalling in the exciting ones. 

“Phee’s really brave. I’m not so much. I’m kind of her shadow. Everything she is, I isn’t.” You winced at the weird choice of words. It’s fine. Play it cool. Everything is fine…Everything is not fine. That sounded so dumb.

“I don’t get opportunities to be brave like she does. She creates those opportunities. If they came along by chance, I’d probably miss them or go running in the opposite direction.”

Before Tech could answer, a clan of moon-yos jumped you from behind, tangling themselves and laughing. The things clung to your arms and legs while the little ones stole away the cake you made for dessert. The treasure acquired, all the little annoyances left. 

You could only sit there and stare, dumbfounded. 

How? What just happened? 

In retrospect, you knew this about moon-yos. You should have seen that coming…you were just so eager to share your favorite fruit cake with your friends you didn’t even consider the creatures had the same taste as you. You normally foresaw this kind of thing! What was wrong with you? You were too eager, that’s all. 

With a heavy sigh, you closed the basket.

“Are you alright? Their claws didn’t hurt you?” You asked him, only letting a small bit of exhaustion into your voice. 

“No, it was rather an unusual occurrence…I would be alright if it didn’t happen twice in a lifetime though.”

“For you and me both, I guess we’d better head back, yeah? Lots to do tomorrow.” Packing up hid your embarrassment well, feeling like you wanted to die inside.

Tech helped you clean up, but in your distractedness, you missed the grin on his face and the wonder in his eyes. Their attack barely phased you. You were calm, cool, collected. Many would have shrieked and panicked. Not to mention how well you handled the loss of your famous desert.

The day certainly didn’t go as planned, but when was that a bad thing?

— — — 

A few days later, after one of Tech’s famous flying lessons with Omega, the Marauder needed some light repairs. The close proximity sensors went out…again. Phee slyly and quickly suggested that you could assist with the repairs to your great horror. You didn’t know anything about mechanical stuff. On the island, everything was hand built practically. You were good with a hammer, not a spanner. 

“Relax, Tooka,” Phee chuckled, “he probably won’t let you touch anything anyway. He’s rather particular about that ship. You’ll just talk and keep him company.”

What shocked everyone was when he excitedly agreed to your help.

You were not there to just keep him company.

Furthermore, dropping jaws, Tech was showing you what he’d like you to do. 

Tech was under a desk panel inside the ship, and you were on the comms outside working on the roof, connecting the wires he told you, when he told you. Sweating buckets, you wiped your palms on your pants again. This was his ship. His pride and joy. You couldn’t mess this up. Breathing heavily, you waited for the next set of instructions. 

“Alright, now connect the red sensor wire with the port of corresponding color. Then connect the blues.”

“Consider it done!” Somehow you managed to sound more confident than you felt. But that was a simple enough task. So far his instructions were easy and clear. But when you looked down at your panel, you noticed something looked off. The orange wire looked like it was melted into the port. If you connected the red now, you were sure the whole system would short circuit again.

You knew you should have asked but you didn’t. Instead, you took a firm hold of the orange wire and pulled. 

Sparkles flew everywhere, a small explosion sound startling you. A scream escaped your mouth and you fell off the side of the ship.

Tech, hearing the snapping, was already on his way out to see if you needed anything. Good thing, as you fell almost right into his arms, the force almost knocked him over but he somehow righted himself.

“Are you alright?” 

He set you down and started to examine your hands. 

“You are fortunate, you are not burned, what happened?” 

Throat constricting, you tried to explain the situation. Tears pricked your eyes but you wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of falling until you were alone. 

“Let me take a look.”

When Tech reached the top, he looked down at the panel amazed. He guessed right away you weren’t a mechanic, but he was excited to have you around and share this with you if you were willing. But, actually, if you didn’t do what you did, this would have been much worse. The tiny explosion would have been a bigger one. You had an amazing head on your shoulders and a great knack for technology. All it would take was a little training and you’d be a natural. He’d be more than happy to show you.

He was going to offer just that, but you’d disappeared before he reached the ground. Perhaps you needed space after the shock. That was logical. He’d finish this up. He’d see you at dinner and ask how you were. 

— — — 

Tech did not, in fact, see you at dinner. 

Indeed, Tech didn’t see you much after the accident. You were present the following morning when the boys and Omega went to market but after that you made yourself scarce and by the afternoon, he’d decided to seek you out. It didn’t take long to find you. You were on the ledge of the pier the two of you worked on together a few days ago. The thought made him smile.

Tech watched you hunched over on the pier, staring into the water and dangling your legs carefully over the edge. Your easy, relaxed smile he would often see on your face when you were alone or you thought no one was watching, was not present, and a feeling of worry washed over him.

Your eyebrows pressed together, hyper-focusing on something that wasn’t there. Lips were turned into a frown and mind distracted. 

That really wasn’t like you. From what he observed, you were quiet…but also observant. You watched and understood everything that was happening. You always knew your surroundings and not much got past you. Your eyes were ever watchful, a hidden light which carried a flame underneath. A mysterious flame that intrigued and fascinated him. It danced with an unshed energy which promised something great, though what was yet to be seen—your power veiled behind a mask.

There was so much to you. 

And he enjoyed every moment you let him in to discover something new.

The hidden garden of knowledge in the vastness of your mind and imagination was beyond anything he’d ever experienced. You brought up points he never even considered, and they excited him. Not many people outside his family had the ability to evoke an emotion of happiness from him.

You did.

And he found himself wanting to do the same for you. To be the reason you smiled. To be the reason you blushed and laughed. To be the reason for the clumsy mistakes out of distracted love. 

He chuckled thinking of your late encounters. They didn’t ‘end well’ according to what Phee explained at lunch (though to be honest, he didn’t understand how), but each time left him with a glowing feeling in his chest which spread to his cheeks in a blush. How could they not have ended well when each one left him feeling a glow of love and pride towards you?

You’d been down today, that he knew, but he didn’t know it was this bad. Tech thought it was merely your social anxiety he found got to you when things were loud and crowds pressed in on you. The market was hectic getting ready for that festival. He thought that was all it was.

This wasn’t that…He wanted to check in with you and make sure you were alright after that last incident but now he was unsure. Did you need some alone space? Would he only make matters worse? Then again, Omega had commented on it being nice knowing you’re cared for even if you didn’t want it at the moment.

A huge crash broke him from his musings and Tech watched you turn in horror towards the source of the sound. 

You started yelling something in a language he didn’t understand, tripping over yourself to get to the collapsing building. You didn’t stop to put your shoes on, you didn’t hesitate. You just ran.

He started running too, there could be people who needed help but there was something about your urgency that made him pause. Why….

Oh. 

Tech doubled his speed. “Hunter, we have a problem. The orphanage under reconstruction is collapsing. I fear some of the children are still inside.” 

“On it. I’ll get Wrecker. We’ll be there shortly.”

— — —

This just wasn’t a good day.

You screwed everything up. You were sure Tech wouldn’t want to speak to you again after what happened. After everything Phee had done to help you. After how far you thought you’d come, you’d always be the screw up. 

You sighed and ran your fingers through your hair, feet dangling over the edge of the pier. In a better mood, you’d playfully kick in the water but now, they just hung idle, lacking the energy for anything more than allowing a cooling, numbing sensation to creep up your legs. 

Perhaps you were just overthinking everything. A little bit of sleep might do you some good. You and the boys had been doing so much to repair the town, you’d gotten little rest. Your mind would go into overdrive when you were tired. Perhaps that was just the case here. No need to panic (yeah right). Some little sleep would show you you were not over with (maybe). You’d gather the courage to apologize and fix your mistake. 

You would make it up to him somehow. 

If your friendship wasn’t permanently damaged, you’d find a way to mend it. You had to. Tech had grown to mean too much to you for you to let him go so easily. 

Disaster after disaster went before your eyes and you thought them through. Analyzed where you’d gone wrong. How you’d fix it or how you would make up for the blunder. It might take a while but it’d be worth it. 

However long it took. 

You’d talk to him first. This time, you wouldn’t stutter. You’d have to practice but you were determined. You would be heard and you’d get it out right. 

Before your plans could progress further, a huge crash broke through your thoughts. You turned to see the orphanage had collapsed. Fear coursed through your veins. Some of the children were helping where they could; they prided themselves in their hard work of what they contributed. They could be trapped! When you heard shouting and screams, you knew you were right. 

“Hold on, I’m coming!”

You pulled your feet and dashed toward the construction site. 

“I’m coming! Lil, run to the village and get help! Myles, go get the physician! Tali, get Shep!”

You quickly took stock of the situation around you. One of the walls fell outward, seemingly because the upper floor was unstable and tumbled through it. 

You heard your name cried out over and over and saw little Trisy running up to you. 

“Hep! Hep! Tabby is twapped inside, please hep!” She cried and pressed herself into your leg. You held her and knelt down to her level. 

“Hey, hey Tristy, look at me.” You swiped the hair from her face. “I’ll get her, ok? Where was she? Is anyone else inside?” 

Tristy shook her head emphatically. “No, only Tabby.” She whipped her face only for the tears and mucus to be smeared over her cheeks and forehead as well. Her breath was coming in heaves. 

“I’ll get Tabby; you stay here, ok?” 

You only waited for her nod of confirmation before dashing inside the building. 

“Tabby? Tabby! Where are you?”

You carefully tip-toed your way around the fallen logs, not wanting to upset anything. 

“Tabby, please answer me!”

“I-I’m down here!”

You looked down and saw a part of the floor was broken through one more level. A pair of shiny eyes looked up at you with newly enkindled hope grappling with fear. 

“Are you hurt?”

“N-no? I fell in after i-it fell. I think my ankle hurts a little, that’s all.”

Looking around for the best possible solution, you grabbed a rope to use as a pulley. Tossing it over what looked like a stable beam, you tested its strength, pulling and tugging. When it didn’t give, you tied one end around yourself and lowered yourself down into the pit. 

When you reached the bottom, the child crawled over to you and clutched your middle. The poor thing had been crying but was trying so hard to be brave.

“It’s ok, I’m here now! I gotcha.”

Wrapping one arm around the child, you slipped the rope around her. 

“Hold on tight, ok.” 

The child nodded and you hoisted the two of you up with a huff and humph. Grunting, you tugged the rope, dragging your body and the extra wiggling weight up. Sweat beaded on your forehead. Shoulders and arms squeezing and solidifying. Lumps formed where your muscles used to be and your neck felt like it was ready to burst. You just had to reach the top!

Hand over hand. Break. Heave. Hand. Hand. Heave. Heave. Hand. Heave. Hand. Heave. Heave. Heave. 

“We’re almost there. Almost. There.”

Gasping for air, you tugged one more time. Your muscles were shaking and you knew you couldn’t hold on much longer. You were so close to the top but you couldn’t let go. Tabby would get hurt if you fell. You just had to reach the top…

“May I be of assistance?”

That voice. One that you did not expect but yet were so happy to hear made you laugh and tears sprung to your eyes. Looking up, you saw a pair of goggled eyes looking down at you worriedly, hand stretched out in hopes of helping

“Can you grab her?”

“She is secured against you rather well. I would not be able to maneuver her without hurting her. I’ll grab the rope and pull, just hold on.”

Tech reached for the rope and pulled the two of you up, easing you into the unstable floor around the hole. His grip was firm and gentle. If you had time, you’d marvel at it, but your head was still reeling and you gasped for breath.

“Thank you.”

He didn’t anwer. He merely nodded…and placed his hand on your cheek? Quickly withdrawing it, he warned:

“Be careful, move slowly toward the outer part of the room. You should be safe then.”

As fast of a talker as Tech was, he didn’t speak fast enough for Tabby who was already trying to hobble toward the opening in the wall. Your eyes went wide, seeing the unstable beam before anyone else. 

“Tabby, no!” You darted, scooped her up and tossed her (praying you didn’t hurt her) to the opening where you knew the floor was ok.

Breaking through and falling through the floor in the process. 

Wood ate your leg, shards of teeth scraped all the way up from where you stepped. Hot blood seeped through the scratches as you tumbled into the darkness below. You were vaguely aware of someone shouting of your name.

You hit the ground with a sickening thud and crack. 

You couldn’t breath and you couldn’t move. 

Debris fell on top of you so whatever wasn’t broken, was weighed down. 

“Just great.” You gave a little sigh when air could enter your lungs again, trying not to give up too much breath. “This is fine. Everything is great.” 

Closing your eyes and focusing on your breathing, a peace settled over you. You knew you should be scared, but you weren’t. Shouldn’t you ask for help? Shouldn’t you be trying to get out? Definitely. But you could only lay there. 

Everything hurt…but it felt so nice to just lay there and sleep…

You loved Tech but why was he shouting at you? What was he shouting?

Oh.

“Wake up! You cannot go to sleep! Wake up!”

When did he climb down? How did he get down? How long have you been laying there? Surely not long…

Wait, did he just slap you?

Your eyes fluttered open.

“Hey.”

You tried to focus on Tech, eyes scrunched with undisguised worry as they searched your face and body. 

“That wasn’t nice. Waking sleeping people isn’t nice.” you mumbled with a slight smirk.

To your surprise, he didn’t spout off a fact like you expected him to, instead he smiled a little sadly. For the first time, he seemed unsure of what to say. 

“It is, if you’re afraid they will expire in their unconsciousness.”

“Fair enough.”

Wait, he was afraid of you dying? WAIT? WERE YOU DYING?

Panic overtook you. Eyes wide, you started to gasp and move around, words failing to form. Thankfully, Tech guessed your line of thought.

“Nothing to worry about. I have already woken you. You just need to stay awake for me, alright? I’ll move the debris off, and you will be just fine.”

“Are you lying to make me feel better?”

Tech looked at you and readjusted his goggles. “Now why would I do that?”

Wanting to shrug but not being able to, you settled for a sigh and fell silent. 

You felt a piece lifted off you…he was so strong…you could get lost in the movements of him heroically saving you but then he stopped. You nearly pouted but held back.

“Please, while I work, give me assurances you are still conscious. Talk if it isn’t painful or clench and unclench your free hand. I…was worried before. You fell rather far and hit your head.”

“Ok…”

Your mind searched for topics but the only one that came to mind was the thought that gave you comfort these past few weeks. You laughed a weak huff.

“Like I said…easily crushed…very appropriate…right…about now.”  

“No,” His voice was firm, not angry but steal-like, “like I said. Beautiful, brave, resilient, resourceful.” His soft smile returned. “Seems like Phee isn’t the only brave one of the two of you. My hypothesis was correct; I just wish you didn’t test it in such drastic measures.”

Your head nodded a little, the ghost of a laugh on your lips while your eyes fluttered closed.

“Please don’t go to sleep. I can’t lose you like this.” 

Wait…he was worried he’d lose you?!?

You wanted to comment on that. You didn’t know how, so after opening and shutting your mouth a few times, you settled on something equally important. 

Not knowing what else to say, you decided now was as good as ever to apologize. He might even be more forgiving with you in this condition.

“I’m sorry…for everything, Tech.” Tears started to well in your eyes. “I messed up so much. I ruined your ship. I—”

“You’re upset because you thought you hurt me or I was angry with you?”

You nodded, letting out a little sob. You couldn’t look at him, so you clamped your eyes shut and bit your lip, the pain keeping you from falling asleep. …he said your name so gently, the lump in your throat returned.

“You didn’t at all. I am sorry you thought that. I would have talked to you sooner had I known that is what upset you so. You were so grave I thought you needed some space as when you were overwhelmed. Phee told me you thought you ruined some important moments together, but I did not equate that with the toll it took on your mind. How could I when everything you did evoked a feeling of love for you?”

You sucked air through your lips and let the tears fall. 

“You’re not teasing me are you? Because l love you. And if this isn’t real, I swear…”

But you were startled into opening your eyes anyway. 

Did you die, or was Tech actually kissing you?

Tech placed one of his hands on your cheeks, stroking it gently with his thumb. His lips moved over yours ever so softly, as if he was afraid the movement would hurt you, yet there was a firmness there which reassured you that he wasn’t timid of you or how he felt. 

“You’re my beautiful flower. Nothing will ever change that. I promise. Now let’s get you out of here. If you wilt before, that is simply unacceptable and unforgivable after this confession.”

You chuckled, “Alright. Deal. No croaking before we leave.”

“Or after.” He sighed. “That was not giving you permission to ‘croak’ after being helped to safety.”

You could only laugh. 

“I won’t plan on it. Not when I’m finally yours. And Tech, only you can call me flower.”

“I thought it would be obvious...my flower.”

[littlemissmanga]

"Don't Forget That, Okay?

Pairing: Crosshair x reader

WC: 2,020

Warnings: A bit of angst/hurt feelings, but what do you expect with Crosshair. All is resolved by the end though.

Prompt/Square: “don’t forget that”

Summary: The Bad Batch have a rare few days of leave, meaning you get a chance to visit home. You invite the boys to tag along. But Crosshair makes his discomfort with the domestic scene known.

a/n: So my parents were those parents growing up. They were the ones who “adopted” my friends. My childhood home was open to anyone going through a tough time or in need of additional support, no matter what that looked like. Even if everything was good, they were always checking in on friends and trying to feed them (seriously, like an ungodly amount of time was spent eating). Many of my friends have my parents’ cell numbers to this day (we’re all over 30) and still text them just to chat.

I couldn’t help but think of how “I don’t need anyone” Crosshair would react to reader bringing him home seeing a well-adjusted and reasonably happy family and feeling so out of place. Think a Shawn Hunter in Boy Meets World situation. And that just made me want to hug him. Then I saw my Clone x Reader Bingo Card courtesy of @clonexreaderbingo and “don’t forget that” seemed to fit perfectly!

-------------------------------------------------------------------------- b

The wind cut against his skin, the harsh sting reminding him how exposed he was.

Not just because his armor was still inside, too far to grab before the need for fresh air overwhelmed him. No, the barely silent current that ran along through his muscles and shocked like a raw nerve was thanks to you.

A bitter burst of air pushes past his lips without consent.

Of course, like always, you didn’t need to try to get under his skin. You’d done that naturally the first second you’d stepped on the Marauder, meeting him quip for quip as soon as you opened your mouth. Your tenacity and stubbornness grated on him and thrilled him in the same breath, and soon he began craving your verbal matches.

They would always end at an impasse, leaving him more determined to force you to back off … or get a rise out of you. Soon, he began craving the intimacy of them. He began craving that moment when the two of you stood toe to toe, willing the other to cave first so you could follow.

He saw how easily you meshed with his brothers, how they could make you laugh out loud or comfort you after a tough mission and he had longed to join their ranks. Longed for much more, actually.

And then you stumbled. Stuttered, technically. And it opened the door.

He still hasn’t figured out what caused you to trip over your words that day, but when he turned to look at you, confusion melted into smug contentment at the sight of your wide eyes roving over his arms before snapping up to meet his.

Ever since, the second you started to get mouthy with him, Cross would pull himself up to his full height to tower over you, almost as if he was reminding a reg to mind his place. Well, in a way he was. But your place — where he’d like it to be, anyway — was much closer than he’d let any of those regs. Hell, closer than he’d let his brothers most days, if he was being honest.

And Maker if your reaction didn’t spur him on each time. He didn’t need Hunter’s hearing to know your heart would start racing. He could see the desperate way you’d try to control your breathing, chest heaving so pretty, just for him. Because of him.

The fire that raced through his veins that first time seared that image into his memory forever. He thought then he would do anything to keep you there. Next to him.

You seem to feel the same. In the months since, you had rarely left his side. You continued to constantly wheedle him, though neither of you jabbed with the same venom anymore. Not really. It was all an act, a dance to pull you together without either needing to be the first to succumb to the vulnerability he could feel tug at his heart every time he caught you sneaking a glance at him.

But again, without a thought, you put him right back on his ass. Now, it feels like his stomach felt would fall out his ass if his chest didn’t collapse in on itself first.

She doesn’t even know it.

And you shouldn’t. It was his mistake.

He forgot he was a soldier, a clone built for nothing more than war. That truth had honestly never bothered him before. He had his squad, his missions and his skills. That’s all he needed out of life.

But seeing you here …

He should have known accepting the invitation was stupid. When the Batch had been given a few days of leave, he should have kept to his routine. Stayed in the Marauder, cleaned his rifle and caught up on sleep instead of agreeing to join you and the others in visiting your home planet.

When the ship first touched down, he could see his brothers surveying the area. But as they approached an almost picturesque home at the end of a picturesque road, their curiosity remained as Crosshair’s morphed into bitterness.

It was too bright, too open, too peaceful to be anything other than alien.

Your smile was dazzling when you called out to your family with a lightly mocking tone, but the contentment on your face when your mother pulled you into her embrace broke his heart. It’s why he was the only one of the Batch to refuse the same welcome from her.

That Tech looked slightly uncomfortable with the overt affection was little comfort. Crosshair couldn’t even bring himself to tease his brother. Not when you so clearly belonged here. And Crosshair knew he never would.

So when your mom tried to get him to talk about himself, when your dad asked what he’d like to eat for dinner, when you looked at him with those eyes that shone with so much kriffing happiness it would have brought him to his knees if he were a weaker man ... he ran.

Like a worthless hut'tuun, damn him.

That’s what hurts the most. He knew the truth, deep down. But he hid from it. It was so easy to do when you were in his world.

Seeing you in yours has forced him to acknowledge that your place isn’t with him. It’s here, or somewhere just like here. Somewhere far away from battlefields and blaster smoke. Somewhere where kind words fill the air, rather than explosions. Where you can surround yourself with people who love you and can keep you happy.

You fit here. So completely he’s sure he will never see anything so perfect again. And with that same certainty, he also knows he will never belong here or anywhere like it.

This sort of soft, quiet peace isn’t meant for a soldier … a sniper … him.

“Cross?”

He freezes at the sound of your voice, letting the howl of wind through the trees suffice as a reply. When an exasperated huff fills the air, he expects it to be followed by your footsteps fading away as you turn back toward the house.

But then, you never do what he expects, do you?

So, he steels himself, tensing his muscles and darkening his glare when you plop onto the ground next to him in front of your childhood home.

“Ever heard of personal space?” He spits, hating the insecurity that forces the venom to seep back into his voice on instinct.

“Don’t be stingy, it’s cold out here! Not all of us run warm, you know.” Your tone remains light, joyful. Artificially so.

He doesn’t understand how you could willfully ignore every hostile reaction his body gave. He isn’t sure if he hates it or loves it. “Then go inside.”

Your lips purse as if you’re really considering it, fooling no one. “Hmm … nah. I think I’ll stay put.”

Crosshair scoffs and looks ahead. He doesn’t want to encourage you. But he is selfish. Too selfish to push you away as you scoot even closer, molding your side to his.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper quietly, shocking him into compliance as you gently loop your arm through his, pulling it to your chest as your chin finds its perch on his shoulder.

“For what?”

“Making you uncomfortable.”

“You’re not that talented.” If he is going to do this, might as well be now. Stars, he loves the feeling of your arms around his, of you pressed against every inch of his side, grounding him. But it wasn’t his to enjoy. “I’m not uncomfortable. Just think this is a karking waste of time.”

Leaning away from you, Crosshair tries to jerk his arm out of your grasp. But you surprise him with your strength as you lay claim to the limb, making it clear to you both that he’s not going anywhere.

You tug gently on him, tucking your head slightly to catch his gaze. “Then I’m sorry for wasting your time. I just really wanted to bring you here.”

He buries his confusion, unwilling to open that door without knowing he could close and lock it tight. “That’s stupid.”

“You’re stupid. Leave is rare, and when we do get it, it’s too short. I wanted you guys to make the most of this one, at least, since we weren’t too far away. Because you deserve to sleep in a bed in a room of your own without needing to wake up and take a night shift. Because you deserve a hot shower — a real one, not sonic — without a time limit. Rejecting all that is stupid, Cross.” You’re practically lecturing him, your voice strong as you look at him incredulously.  

You keep his gaze for a beat of silence before dropping it. Crosshair feels his lips moving, ready to refute your rather ridiculous nat-born assertions, but you cut him off, your voice dropping to almost a whisper, wavering in a way he’d never heard from you before.

“But there are other reasons, too, ya know? Selfish reasons. Because there’s no better cook in the galaxy than my dad. Because my mom has been begging to meet you for months and I’ve been distracting her on every holocall to save you from that fate. Because I got to meet your family and see where you came from. Your past. Got to see everything that made you, you. I wanted to show you mine.”

His arm is finally freed as your hands drop to your lap, eyes following the movement. He can see the nervous twitch of your fingers as you mindlessly toy with the fabric of your pants. Looking up to study your face, his eyes trail over the curve of your cheek where your eyelashes rested, your gaze still cast down.

“I won’t say sorry for wanting that. But I am sorry for whatever I did that sent you out here.”

Oh.

His chest feels like it’s ready to collapse in on itself again, more intensely this time. And there’s only one word he can think as he reaches out to direct your face to his, as his fingers skim the smooth skin of your cheek, as his eyes meet yours, hoping they convey that one word as yours scream your uncertainty:

Precious.

“You didn’t do anything. I don’t fit here.”

There it is. Simple. Easy. Delivered in his signature gruff tone that erased the hurt it took for him to say them, to accept them.

“Do I fit here?” You ask, tilting your head slightly, almost daring him to say no. A gesture so adorable and infuriating at the same time it makes his blood boil … for better and worse. Outwardly, though, all it earns is a roll of his eyes.

“You always ask such dumb questions?”

“Only in response to dumb statements.” You shoot back, response at the ready as the pair of you fall seemlessly into your natural rhythm.

He narrows his eyes. “Nothin’ dumb about it, doll. Not my scene.”

You shake your head, a small playful smile teasing your lips. He knows that smile means nothing but trouble and he can’t afford any more of that. Still, Crosshair can’t help but play along. I really am a coward.

“Well, if I belong here, then so do you.”

Just as simple. Just as easy. But it can’t be.

“That’s not—”

“It is,” you interrupt, leaning impossibly closer. “And if there’s somewhere you don’t feel comfortable, then I don’t belong there, either.”

Maybe he is a weak man. Because against all logic and instinct, when you tuck your head under his chin and curl up against him, Crosshair can’t do anything other than pull you firmly into his arms and hold you tight against him.

A stronger man would be able to keep a healthy distance. But you don’t seem to mind this weakness. And Maker knows he can only fight his own selfishness for so long.

“I belong with you, and you with me. Don’t forget that, okay?”

Your lips moving against the delicate skin of his neck sends shivers down his spine and you, likely thinking it’s from the cold, press further unto him. The ghost of a laugh at your sweet misunderstanding coats his lips before they press into the hair at the top of your head.

“Okay.”

[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.

[rinwritesfics]

The Speederbike - Part 1

Plot: Rex develops a massive crush on the new mechanic, but is extremely awkward about it.

Warnings: Minor swearing, awkward Rex

Word Count: 1209

Author’s Note: It’s my first time writing Rex, so I hope I got him right. No descriptions or names for the reader included.

Part 1

Rex entered the briefing room. The general said someone was joining the battalion, and they weren’t a clone. It was part of some new program getting civvies involved to fight in the war alongside the troopers. Rex wasn’t sure about this – he had seen too many civvies turn their noses up at them, and he didn’t need another one to do so, especially one he would have to see on the daily.

He was just about to express his concerns to the general when you walked into the room, full-kit. You were a mechanic, sure, but he wasn’t expecting a mechanic with a full kit on. You took off your helmet with a smile and Rex froze. He wondered if love at first sight was real, because this sure felt like it. He didn’t even notice the general leaving the room.

“Hi Captain. I’m the new mechanic. I do hope it’s okay that the general himself chose me. I don’t want to cause any trouble.”

Rex was very glad his helmet hid his face as his cheeks warmed and his heartrate increased. He managed to choke out, “Oh, uh, hello. Welcome to the 501st. Always good to know another mechanic. I’m sure you’re very skilled at what you do, and uh, being here you’ll only get better!”

You chuckled. “General Skywalker was right. You do get awkward when you’re nervous. It’s nice to meet you, Captain Rex.”

Rex chuckled awkwardly. “Apologies, I wasn’t anticipating meeting such a… a skilled mechanic today.”

You smiled. “Anything specific on the docket today I should tend to first?”

It was that smile again. His entire face felt warm, silently making him praise his helmet again. “Oh, uh, nothing I can think of off the top of my head! I just came to greet you. Um, you’re from Alderaan, right?”

“Yeah, I grew up there.”

“What’s it like? Maybe when the war’s over, I might visit.” He shrugged, attempting to calm down and seem like he was more in control of himself than he was coming off as.

“It’s really pretty. The mountains are really nice. I like it much more than Coruscant.” You pause. “Maybe I could show you some of my favorite places when that time comes.”

Once again, he was glad the helmet was on as he blushed. He stood a bit straighter and nodded. “Y-yeah, that would be really nice.”

You smiled again and Rex was certain he was going to melt. “Sounds like a plan. Well, until then, I’ll likely be busy in the repair section of the hangar bay. May I head there, Captain?”

He tilted his head in confusion until he realized you were waiting for him to formally dismiss you. “Of course, yes! You are excused. It was nice to meet you.”

You nodded and turned around, heading to the hangar bay. Rex watched you go for a moment, then had to snap himself out of his trance. He started in a different direction.

Days turned into weeks and Rex slowly got more comfortable around you, despite the increase in his heartrate every time you smiled at him and the warmth that accompanied it. He chose to start making up an excuse to see you daily – just checking on the repair bay, he said if someone asked him.

One day, he went to visit you and you had a surprise for him.

“Captain! I need your opinion on something!” You grabbed his arm and pulled him with you. Your hand around his arm made him blush slightly, but you were too distracted to see it. The grin on your face was indicator enough of your distraction as you pulled him over to a sheet-covered item that was longer than it was tall and slightly oddly shaped.

He chuckled. “Okay, what do you need my opinion on?”

“Remember last week when you lamented not having a speederbike on some missions?”

You remembered? The warmth in his chest at such a small detail grew. “Yeah.”

You pulled the sheet off the item and his eyes widened. It was a speederbike, a little worse for the wear, but still in usable condition.

“How did you get ahold of this?”

You giggled. “That’s the one Jesse found in the scrapheap. I was thinking I could fix it up and it could be a 501st speeder. And maybe… we could get it painted up in white with some blue highlights?”

His heart fluttered a little. “You took this on because of me?”

“Of course, Captain. You guys mean the world to me. Now, once I get it running, I’ll have to find some blue for the detailing.”

Rex blurted out, “I could do that! I mean, I can find the paint since I know where it is. You’re amazing.”

You smiled and he shyly smiled back.

“Captain, I –”

He interrupted, “Rex. Please.”

You smiled softly. “Alright. Rex, I can have this fixed up in a day or two. I will, however, need some direction on how you want it painted.”

Rex rushed to say, “I could do that, too!”

“You sure you’re not too busy?”

Rex blushed a bit. “I’m never too busy for you.”

Your lips parted a little and he had the sudden urge to find out how they taste, but he held back.

“Thank you, Rex,” you said softly. The way you said his name made his skin prickle slightly, blossoming from his chest and tingling all the way down to the tips of his toes.

“I’ll, uh, bring you that paint tomorrow so it’s ready when you are.”

“Sounds great. Unlike the engine.” You scoffed a little and broke the slight awkwardness.

He frowned. “What does it sound like?”

You turned on the engine and it made a bad noise, one that grumbled and squawked slightly instead of a low growl, causing him to flinch and you turn it off.

“What’s the issue with it?” he asked.

“Whatever is causing it to make that noise,” you teased.

“Smartass,” Rex said with a soft chuckle, then he froze, silently cursing himself. You’re not one of his brothers, he couldn’t just talk to you like that!

But you didn’t seem to mind as you laughed and responded, “Smartass? Me? Well, it’s better than being a dumbass.”

He grinned. “I’ll go get that paint.”

“See you soon,” you said softly.

Your tone made his heart flutter again, then he headed down the hallway. Along the way, he ran into Fives and Jesse.

Fives looked at Rex with suspicion, then grinned slyly and Rex knew there was trouble afoot with that expression.

“Don’t even start,” Rex said.

Fives laughed. “I’m not!”

“Then what were you thinking about?”

“Alright, you caught me. You were hanging out with the mechanic, weren’t you?”

Rex couldn’t help the slight blush at the tips of his ears.

“I knew it!” Fives whooped. “Still got no rizz, do you?”

“Huh?”

“Flirting skills. You have no flirting skills.”

Rex narrowed his eyes and Jesse couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him.

“What are you planning?” asked Rex as he started for the paint in the supply closet near the armory.

“Well, here’s what I’m thinking…” said Fives as he and Jesse walked with Rex down the corridor.

Taglist open!

Part 2

[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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[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

[ladyzirkonia]

Heavy Rain - Part 1

Summary: Long-standing tensions with Commander Fox reach a breaking point, when some regretful decisions lead to a chase through the rainy nights of Coruscant.

Pairing: Commander Fox x Doc!Fem!Reader, feat. juicy Jesse 😎

Tags & Warnings: violence (police violence?), strong language, discrimination

Word Count: around 1.000

author's note: I know I really wanted to write smut (I'm fucking trying) but I got carried away and because this got a little bit to long there will be a two parter. Building up the tension for the release. 😏 I listened to this while writing.

@clonexreaderbingo Square: Coruscant

It was a rainy night on Coruscant, and you cursed inwardly as you almost slipped, sharply turning a corner and running into a dark alley. The rain had completely soaked your clothes, it's not like you had much on today anyway. You had been looking forward to a relaxing evening at 79's after a long, hard day of work. Jesse hadn't given up easily, and even though you were tired, that handsome son of a mudscuffer had managed to lure you out. Damn that stupid face, it was almost embarrassing how quickly you ran when he called. But could anyone blame you? You couldn't think straight when he looked at you with that certain gaze, confident and teasing. In that moment, you knew if you wanted to punch or kiss that stupidly handsome face. But instead, you pulled out your only going-out outfit from the closet and used the little makeup you owned. Hair? Oh, completely overrated, that had to do. After all, you had a Doctorate, he should admire you for your brilliant mind, and if not? Then he could go kriff himself.

But it hadn't come to any of that. You hadn't even gotten a kriffing drink, instead, you ran like crazy through the rain, a damn bad idea because you weren't the fastest, and certainly not the most athletic. And all of this because of that idiot in front of 79's who insulted you and Jesse. Being called a "slut who spreads her legs for clones" was one thing, something you could still ignore, but when he didn't stop ranting about the clones, claiming they weren't worth living, an insult to all real beings, and had no right to be treated like humans, that was all it took to make you snap completely.

You had to hear phrases like these far too often, and you had been working in the GAR and with the clones long enough that they made you furious instantly. These men were so loyal, each one you had met so far was unique and endearing in their own way - well, almost everyone - that the unfair treatment they repeatedly endured embittered and angered you. And that one idiot had to pay the price - just like his nose - when you brought him down with a well-aimed punch. Your medical training had helped, as you knew exactly how to break a nose precisely. Your bad luck was that the act didn't go unnoticed.

Of course, Commander Fox was patrolling EXACTLY tonight. Not just any of the Corrie Shinies or at least Commander Thorn, with whom you got along well. No, it had to be precisely the stern and often ill-tempered Fox, and you knew that you were in serious trouble. There had been tensions between you from the beginning. He liked to stick to the rules, and you... well, you were good at bending the rules of GAR protocol to suit your needs. The few encounters you had with the man usually ended in heated arguments. You were the little teasing shit who could annoy the hell out of him within five minutes, and he hadn't had anything in his hands against you - until today. And that's why you ran for your dear life now. You knew it was foolish, if he really had it out for you, you didn't stand a chance of escaping. But your instinct still said, "Run, just kriffing run." The last thing you saw was Jesse's amused and impressed face - well, maybe this would take your relationship to the next level - before you ran like crazy.

You ran for your life, hoping luck was on your side and that Fox hadn't bothered to follow you. Perhaps you had managed to escape. As you turned into the next dark alley, your relief turned into a loud curse. You had ended up in a dead-end, the street blocked by a high chain-link fence, and you had no chance of overcoming this obstacle. You weren't a Jedi or a trained soldier, so you could only frustratedly pound against the fence.

In the next moment, you heard a deep and all-too-familiar voice behind you, causing you to flinch. "Turn around slowly and put your hands up where I can see them," barked Fox, and you knew he had you right where he wanted you. "Seriously, Fox?! Kriff, you know damn well I don't have any weapons. What's the meaning of this?" you retorted angrily as you turned slowly and raised your hands, staring into his dark visor. You couldn't see his face, but damn, you could imagine his smug expression all too well, which only fueled your anger.

"Watch your filthy mouth, Doc. You're not in a position to make demands," he said in a far too calm tone, sending a shiver down your spine. "And now be a good girl and turn around, hands on your back," he continued, and for a moment, you considered going for him again, but kriff, it wasn't worth it. You loved your job despite everything, and you didn't want to lose it because of this mudscuffer. So you gritted your teeth in frustration and turned around slowly, crossing your hands behind your back. You felt Fox approach you, and you sharply inhaled as that sack of a bantha fodder got too close for your liking. His hard armor pressed into your back as he pinned you against the chain-link fence to put handcuffs on you.

"Kriff Fox, are you serious?! What the hell is this?" you exclaimed, your face pressed against the cold and wet chain-link fence. Your body trembled with anger - yes, it was definitely just anger, and maybe the cold - it had absolutely nothing to do with Fox invading your personal space.

"Language, Doc. And it's still Commander Fox for you. Your sens of respect has always been lacking," he said coldly, and you could only respond with a sarcastic laugh.

"Respect is something that has to be earned," you shot back.

"We will work on that," was all he replied - and you didn't know if it was a promise or a threat - before leading you away.