#clone trooper Pulse

[leon-anna]

A scene where Pulse is trying to keep Commander Owen in shape for missions but Owen doesn't know rule one on self preservation.

(Made off of a Parks and Recreation scene)

[flashthescalesian-art]

Bones: Hey, vod, what do you want to eat? Joker: THE SOULS OF THE INNOCENT! Pulse: A bagel. Joker: N O! Pulse: Two bagels.

[cc--2224]

I'll Show You Heaven

Pairing: Crosshair x F!Reader

Summary: Crosshair was always someone of interest to you, much to the other clones’ dismay. When he hears a Reg disrespecting you, he doesn’t hesitate to step in. You were told that there was no point trying to fix him, but you knew you could handle dangerous; although it turned out that to you, he wasn’t dangerous at all.

Warnings: This is very much 18+ Minors do not interact! Alcohol and smoking mentions; drunk clones being assholes including one putting the reader in a dangerous/uncomfortable situation but nothing happens! Smut - masturbation, Crosshair having dirty thoughts, oral (m and f receiving), biting/marking, unprotected p in v - wrap it before you tap it!!, praise kink, one instance of Cross being too rough but he corrects it, porn with feelings, language, tons of compliments/pet names, jealous maybe slightly protective Crosshair

Notes: Very slightly based on the song I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)

Word Count: ~6.4k

Taglist: None, let me know if you'd like to be added!

Masterlist

It was just another day. The haze of smoke lingering in the bar, the loud laughter and chatter amongst the patrons, and him. 

You had gotten to know most of the regulars at 79s, including Clone Force 99, but you never made it a point to become their friend. The clones, usually drunk, would flirt with you endlessly, but never the 99s. They kept to themselves, and you had learned over the months that they weren't very popular with the others.

You hadn't considered there were social hierarchies among the clones, but you supposed they were no different than any other group of people.

You traced the smoke back to the tall, silver-haired man. He sat at one of the tall tables, not quite facing the bar, but enough that you could see his sharp features silhouetted by the pulsing lights. 

He never looked pleased to be there, he seemed to have a permanent scowl, and you couldn't even recall a time where he said more than three words at a time, and none of them kind. 

And while these might be negative traits to most, but to you, these traits mixed with his deep brown eyes that you had caught on you once or twice, and the smirk that came along with it, the expression of an all-too-confident man, only helped to draw you in to him. 

You had a feeling that he was one to put up a front, wall himself in so that he didn't appear vulnerable. it made sense for a soldier, but there was a part of you that wanted to see what he was like when the walls came down.

"Hey! Cyar'ika!" You heard from behind you, you turned to face the clone holding his glass up to you. "You gonna give me a top up or stare at the reject squad all night?"

You rolled your eyes and turned to him too quickly to see the sharp glare of the man you were just staring at point at the rowdy clone. After refilling his glass, you set it down in front of him and gave him a warning, "Everyone is welcome in my bar, and everyone gets attended to while they're here. Understood, trooper?" 

Before he could answer, you walked toward the centre of the bar, making a point to keep an eye on all your patrons so they wouldn't also get the wrong idea about who was getting more attention. Your eyes naturally wandered back to where the 99s were sitting, briefly meeting with the same brown eyes you had been silently admiring just moments ago, the tattooed crosshairs outlining one of them perfectly. 

He turned his head back toward the rest of his squad but you could almost see him glance at you through the corner of his eyes at least once before you were called away again. 

"Y'know what?" The loud clone called out again, "I think you should just come home with me. I could make you forget all about them." He jerked his head toward the 99s. 

"And I think you've had too much to drink." You chided, ignoring his request for another top up.

"C'mon," He groaned. "If you're gonna cut me off, you should at least make it up to me. Wanna come home with a real man? I bet those 99s could never measure up to us if you get my meaning. Whattaya say, copikla?

Several clones laughed at his words, your Mando'a wasn't perfect, but based on their laughs, you assumed it wasn't nice. 

Before you could get security to kick him out, you heard a chair scrape against the floor and then the crack of knuckles on flesh. You didn't even see the tall clone cross the bar before he was laying into the loud one.

You ran out from behind the bar and tried to pull him back, as much as you didn't want to, you also didn't want him to be permanently banned either. 

Once he noticed you pulling his arm back, he stopped. 

"What's going on?" One of the security guards had come over, hearing the commotion.

"Nothing," you said before gesturing to the floor, "He had too much to drink. Best if he goes home."

The security looked at you carefully, making sure you were okay before helping the clone to his feet and walking him out of the bar.

You sighed and returned back to where you were standing before, watching the other clones glare but cautiously move out of the way of the 99.

He started walking back to his table before pausing and turning to look at you, his features almost seeming softer now. 

"You didn't have to cover for me." He said, a toothpick lodged between his lips.

You shrugged, "He was getting on my nerves, deserved the punch if you ask me. As long as you’re okay, I’m okay." You smiled up at him. 

You could handle yourself, you've been working at 79s for a while, you knew how unruly people could get when alcohol was involved, and as much as you could handle people yelling at you, you didn't like when your regulars hurled insults at groups who were just minding their own business. Especially when, to your understanding, they got enough of that back on their homeworld.

He hummed in response.

"Can I get you guys anything?" You asked after a brief silence had fallen.

"No, we're heading out. See you around." Almost on cue, the rest of his crew stood up and began to leave.

— — —

“You shouldn't have done that.” Hunter warned him quietly when they had returned to the Marauder.

Crosshair shoved past him to get into the ship.

“Regs will always take each other's side, if you get reported for starting a fight…”

“Again,” Tech chimed in.

“I'll deal with it if it happens. Regs are probably too drunk to remember anyway.” 

“Why'd you attack him, anyway?” Wrecker asked. 

His eyebrows furrowed, “Didn't you hear him? He was treating her like his little pet.”

The others looked at each other, seemingly sharing the same thought between them.

Hunter's voice didn't betray his thoughts, “Even still, you should go back and apologize. Probably scared the poor girl.”

Crosshair rolled his eyes at Hunter's order. 

“No promises.”

He went to his bunk and discarded his armour, laying on his bunk in his blacks. He couldn't seem to get your face out of his head. The way your eyes met, how you took his side even though his squad was right, he did start the fight. Your smile when you made sure that he was okay.

This wasn't the first time he had seen you, but it was the first time the two of you had ever spoken; he didn't do small talk, Hunter and Wrecker did.

But he wanted to talk to you again, he wanted to see you again, see you smiling up at him. 

The more you crept into his thoughts, the more he couldn't get you to leave. 

Eventually with the solitude of his bunk, his thoughts got the better of him. He imagined how you would look, naked and squirming under him. How you'd taste, how you'd feel around him. 

He couldn't shoo these thoughts away, he found himself palming his cock over his blacks at the thought of you taking it into your mouth. 

He had been with others before, but it was rare for him to feel like this. Usually when he’s with someone it’s just to get his own release, but thinking of you was different. He wanted to make you come, to hear you cry for him, to feel you come on his cock, on his fingers, whatever you’d allow. 

He wanted you, all of you. And he couldn’t stand the thought of some Reg pretending to flatter you just to get you into his bunk. You deserved better than that, you deserved someone who would treat you right, make you feel good, someone who could be good for you. Someone like him.

He reached his hand into his blacks, pulling himself out and stroking it. He let his mind continue to wander, imagining everything all over again as a loop. He thought of your voice, telling him how good he was, telling him how he was made for you, how no one else could satisfy you like him. He thought of marking your neck, your tits, your thighs. 

As he began to reach his climax, he stroked himself faster, he thought about filling you up with his release, he didn’t know where, whether it was your throat or your cunt, he just knew he wanted to come inside you. 

This thought sent him over the edge as he spilled out over his hand with a groan.

He knew it wasn't right to think this way, he didn't even know you, but he also knew there was no way for you to know what was going through his mind.

But would it be so bad if you did? 

— — —

Something about his expression when he finally came back to the bar was different than it had been a few days ago. Not bad by any means, just not how he normally looked. 

Part of it was likely due to the fact that he was in civilian clothes instead of his armour, nut most of all, his ever-present scowl seemed softer, and he didn't wear a smirk when he noticed you looking at him, instead he almost seemed nervous. 

He walked toward the bar and sat on one of the stools, scanning to make sure none of the gathering clones were the one from a few rotations ago. 

"Can I get you something?" You asked him with a smile.

He blinked like he still somehow wasn't expecting you to talk to him after what happened, but then shook his head. "No, nothing."

He sighed, looking down at the counter in front of him. "I wanted to..."

You looked at him, eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

"My actions the other day, that wasn't okay."

Your face softened into a small smile. "Don't worry about it, nothing to apologize for."

"Did the Reg apologize to you?"

"Oh, no I haven't seen him, but like I said, nothing to apologize for. I'm used to it." You told him nonchalantly. His gaze snapped up to meet yours and his eyes narrowed.

"Used to it? Being drunk doesn't give them an excuse to be assholes to you." His voice raised slightly.

"Really, it's fine. I'm just sorry you had to hear him talk about your squad like that for so long."

He laughed quietly and used your words back at you, "We're used to it."

Neither of you said anything for a bit. You worked on pouring another glass for one of the other patrons at the bar and then turned back to face him.

"I see you guys around here often, but until the other day, you and I have never spoken, I'd like to change that.” your kind smile at him caused his heart to pound in his chest, but when he didn't answer, you continued. “You have a name, trooper?" 

"Crosshair." 

You smirked then told him yours. 

"Where's the rest of your squad today?"

"They stayed back, wanted me to make sure you were okay. But since you are, I should be going."

He was out of the stool and heading toward the door before you could convince him to stay. He needed to clear his head, it wasn't like him to feel so reserved and shy, but he felt your presence hammering on the walls he had built for himself and he didn't know if he was ready for them to come down.

You watched him as he left and smiled to yourself. Was he really concerned about your opinion of him so much that he came all the way here just to apologize? Or maybe he just wanted to make sure the other trooper kept his distance. Either way, seeing him was always a treat, and now you had a name to go with his face.

"I'd be careful of him." One of the clones said, pulling you out of your thoughts.

"What do you mean?"

"Clone Force 99 isn't known for following rules. They have the highest success rate out of any squad, but the way they complete their missions goes against most protocols we have. That one, Crosshair, he's their sniper, a dangerous one at that, and definitely not a friendly sort of person, someone you don't want to get on the bad side of. Not someone you can just fix with that pretty smile of yours." 

You listened to him as he warned you, but even still, Crosshair and his squad intrigued you. You wanted to get to know them better.

Crosshair had caught your eye from the moment you had first seen him, and now the gap between you was finally starting to close.

You wanted to be his friend, but you were also curious about being more than that. You wanted to see what he was like when the two of you were alone. Was he sweet? Was he demanding? Was he some mix of both? 

You wanted to know what his lips would feel like, what he would taste like, how he'd feel. Thoughts that sparked a flame in your core. You didn't know if you'd ever get an answer to any of them, but the world worked in mysterious ways.

— — —

Once everyone had cleared out and you got some cleaning done, it was finally time to go home. 

It was late, too late to be wandering around the understreets of Coruscant alone, but you knew the most direct way back to your apartment, and had a blaster set to stun, just in case.

You turned down the alleyway, and you saw a figure push itself off the wall and walk toward you. 

"Awful late, isn't it?" You could hear the faint accent of a clone, and the audible slurring of one that had too much to drink.

"Come on, copikla, let me walk you home."

He stumbled toward you. When he came into the light, you could see the black eye that Crosshair had given him, still purple and blue despite the days that had passed.

"I'm fine, thank you."

"Don't be like that, I wanted to apologize and do something nice for you. C'mon." He got closer to you and you felt your hand shake as you reached for your blaster.

"There's no need for that," He told you when you had the blaster fixed on him. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"Then go back to your barracks, trooper."

He smirked, "Y'see the other day, your friend from the reject squad, he gave me this-" He said as he pointed to his eye. "All because I gave you a compliment, so really, you o-" 

Before he could finish his sentence you saw a blue bolt whiz past you, hitting the clone and stunning him.

You turned to see where it came from and at the other side of the alleyway, Crosshair stood with a pistol drawn.

He walked toward you, "He hasn't had a very good week." He pointed out, looking at the clone on the ground before bending down to look at his armour, looking for his identifier.

"What are you doing?" 

"Getting his ID. He'll probably be sent back to Kamino for a while for breaking protocol."

He brought his comm up to his face. "Tech, I’m sending you coordinates and a trooper ID, arrange a pickup."

"Copy." You heard the distorted voice through the comm link before Crosshair began typing in numbers.

"You seem confused." He said, looking at you now.

"I thought your squad didn't care about rules and protocol."

He smirked, "Regs have been talking about us, huh? That's true, we do our own thing and don't take orders very well but.. we wouldn't put a civ in danger in a dark alleyway, he should have known better."

"Well, thank you for helping me, but.. how did you know I'd be here?"

"I didn't. After I left the bar earlier, I went back to our ship, but there aren't many places there to think quietly so I went for a walk."

"I see. I guess it's a good thing you were here. I have a blaster for my own safety, but I froze." You looked at the gun in your hand and sighed.

"Don't worry about it, the Coruscant guard will be here before long to deal with him.”

He turned on his heels and began walking away and you watched him before looking down.

“Crosshair?” You called out before he could get too far.

He turned to look at you again but didn't say anything.

“I'm not too far but.. could you walk with me? I just…” You trailed off looking at the stunned clone at your feet.

He walked back over to you, “Of course.”

He was silent for the remainder of the walk, but he walked with you to your door.

"Would you like to come in?" You asked as you punched in the key code.

"You sure?" 

You nodded and the door hissed open, you walked in, followed by Crosshair.

He looked around your place, it was small but it was inviting.

He knew he should have just gone back to the Marauder, but part of him wanted to make sure you felt safe, and another, much more hidden part of him thought that if you had invited him in, maybe his thoughts of you hadn't been as one-sided as he thought.

"Make yourself at home." You told him.

He sat on the small sofa in the living room, his arm draped over the back, and you stared at him, remembering what the clone had said at the bar. If Crosshair really was someone to look out for, you didn't see it. You would even go as far as to say that he was being kind to you. 

"Like what you see?" He asked when he caught you staring at him, his tone slightly huskier now that he was indoors. 

You rolled your eyes, and walked over toward the couch, sitting at the opposite end from him, but turned to look at him.

"What does copikla mean? I know cyar'ika and mesh'la because I get those a lot from the regulars, but that guy was the only one to call me that."

He looked at you and frowned slightly. "It means cute, but in a way you'd say to a child or a tooka kit, not a woman. That Reg wasn't paying you a compliment when he called you that."  

"I see. And that's why you jumped him?"

"I had enough of him long before that point, but yes."

You didn't notice that as you spoke, the more distance had been closed between you and Crosshair until your knees brushed lightly.

"What if it were a compliment?" You asked.

"I guess it depends on how you reacted, if you weren't comfortable." His eyes bore into yours now. "But you seem to like the compliments from the Regs." 

You shrugged, "As I said earlier, I'm used to it." 

His hand moved toward you, gently caressing your face. You could feel the calluses on his fingertips brush against your skin and you leaned into his touch.

"Would you react the same if I complimented you?" He asked, his voice a little more than a whisper.

"You could try." You answered. “See what happens.”

His hand traveled down to rest on the side of your neck, with his thumb stroking your jawline. 

He shifted slightly closer to you, eyes half-lidded. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and you were certain he could hear it with how quiet it was in the room.

Crosshair leaned over to you and looked into your eyes, looking for any hint of hesitation, and when he didn't find any, he pulled you into a kiss. It wasn't demanding, but it wasn't gentle either. You could tell that this is what he had been thinking about when he said he had to clear his mind. 

Neither of you had been sure if the other wanted this, but when your lips connected, you both figured it out.

His tongue pushed into your mouth and he swallowed the moan you gave when you tasted him.

His other hand had made its way over to you, resting on your waist. Your hands rested on his chest at first, but slowly wrapped around the back of his neck, drawing him closer.

He sat back to look at you, leaned against the arm of the couch, lips starting to swell, pupils dilated, and he smirked.

"You're beautiful." He told you. You knew he was trying to get a reaction from you, but his voice was sincere. 

You could feel yourself getting warmer, and your stomach beginning to coil with the dull ache you felt between your legs. 

You slid off the couch and gently took his hand, pulling him up with you.

He seemed confused for a moment, so you clarified.

"Figured you'd want somewhere a bit more comfortable."

His smirk returned, "Presumptuous of you."

"If I'm wrong, we can continue to sit here."

"Oh no, you’re not wrong. Lead the way, mesh'la." 

You had heard the Mando'a compliments so many times they didn't even feel like real words to you, but Crosshair saying it brought new life. 

When you didn't move, he leaned in to kiss you, but you ducked out of the way and began walking to your room.

He watched you walk away, slightly offended when you dodged his kiss, but that disappeared when he looked at your hips swaying, beckoning him to follow you. 

When you walked into your bedroom, you turned on the lamp beside your bed before sitting with your back to the pillows, watching the door for him.

He entered slowly and you finally took a good look at him. He seemed much taller in your apartment than he did at the bar. You eyed him from head to toe, feeling your core clench slightly when you noticed the raised outline of his crotch straining against his jeans.

"Come here," you said, your voice low.

He walked around to the end of your bed, crawling over you with one leg on either side of your ankles.

"Closer." You breathed. 

He moved upward, hovering parallel to your hips, eyes fixed on your core.

"Good boy,." You praised him. You didn't expect him to groan at that, but as if something ignited in him, he dipped down, kissing your stomach, then your hips, and moving down to kiss your thighs before hooking his fingers into the waistband of your jeans, looking up at you to ask permission.

"Yes, please, Crosshair." 

He worked your jeans and panties off in one fell swoop, throwing them to a corner somewhere once they were off. You gasped when you felt his lips on your upper thigh, slowly trailing higher.

You arched your back slightly, desperate to feel him, but he smirked against your leg, biting into the soft flesh, before kissing the mark he had left. 

He moaned when he felt your fingernails scratch against his scalp, trying to guide his head when you needed him.

He left another mark on your other thigh before licking a stripe from that mark all the way to your centre.

Your back arched again, pulling his face closer to you.

"You like that, mesh'la?" His voice vibrating against you.

"Y-yes!" You threw your head back in pleasure when you felt his tongue circle your entrance before swiping up between your folds, tasting all you had to give him.

"G-good boy, keep... keep going." 

His hands found their way to your hips, holding them in place, you were certain that he was going to leave bruises on each one but you didn't care.

His lips clasped around your clit and he sucked so hard you saw stars, and then he went back to using his tongue, circling the bud slowly, trying to pull every moan from you that he could.

"Say it again." He said against your centre.

"Say what again?" You teased, knowing exactly what he wanted.

"Call me a-" He licked you up and down again, not finishing his question.

"Oh, you want me to call you a good boy?" You asked sweetly.

He rutted his hips against the bed as his tongue dove into you.

You cried out his name. The intensity of him drinking you up had begun to build and with it, you could feel yourself beginning to come undone. You were so close, you could feel your walls clench around his tongue, and he pulled it out.

You looked down at him in time to see his hand slide down from your hip, and he planted two fingers inside you, curling them against your walls.

"Go-good, you're so good, Crosshair, know just what I want." 

He groaned, grinding against the bed again before adding another finger, drawing a cry from your lips.

His thumb took over for his tongue against your clit as his long fingers worked on opening you up. He placed gentle, yet desperate kisses wherever he could, nipping at your soft flesh.

"Cro-Crosshair I- I'm so close."

He sucked another mark onto your thigh and groaned when he felt your hand tighten around his hair.

Your hips bucked as you felt yourself get closer and closer to your release.

"That's it, come all over my fingers." His voice coaxed you further, "Let me feel you."

His tongue went back to your center, working circles around you again as your walls continued to clench around him.

It didn't take much else to pull the orgasm out of you, you cried out his name as you came undone, legs twitching and hips bucking as he continued to work you through it.

He pulled his fingers out of you, and kissed your center once again before leaving a trail of kisses up toward your neck, slowly lifting your shirt as he went before it, too, was thrown into the corner of your room. He nipped and kissed the sensitive skin, leaving you another mark before kissing your jawline and lips once more.

He was perched above you, leaning on one of his elbows while he straddled your hips, his jeans doing little to hide the feeling of his stiffness pressing into you.

“How was that, beautiful?” He asked you, a smirk plastered on his face.

“Perfect,” you replied. “I think you deserve some attention now too, for being so good to me.” He bucked his hips involuntarily into you.

He brought his hand up to cup your face. His fingers still wet from your slick. He rested them against your lips before pushing them past. You moaned against his digits as he pressed them against your tongue, making you taste yourself. You circled each of his fingers with your tongue before sucking on them gently. He pressed his head into where your shoulder and neck meet as he reluctantly pulled his fingers out of your mouth, thinking of nothing else but how your lips would feel wrapped around his cock.

“Do you want me to fuck you, cyar'ika?” 

“Gods, yes, but first I want to taste you.”

His cock twitched against his jeans.

“I didn't know you could read minds.” He said, his voice low.

“I can't, I just know how I want to reward my good boy.” 

Before he could say anything else, he got up from you and sat back on his heels, undoing the button on his jeans, and unzipping them just enough to relieve some of the strain. 

You sat up and crawled toward him, resting your hands on his thighs, looking up at him for any sign of discomfort before you pulled on the waistband.

“You know, it's not very fair that you're so covered and I'm not.” You told him with a mischievous glint in your eye.

“No? Well, we can fix that.” He quickly pulled his shirt off before throwing it aside, revealing his toned chest. Your hands brushed against his abdomen and he sighed. You began idly tracing the outlines of his muscles and scars, and he took your chin between his fingers and tilted your face up to his, kissing you gently at first then with more passion. You felt him bite your bottom lip and you moaned into his mouth. Your hands glided across his skin before finding the waistband of his jeans again.

Without breaking the kiss, he helped you to disrobe him, and when you pulled down on his briefs, he sucked in a breath, feeling his cock spring free.

You looked down at it and instinctively parted your lips slightly, feeling your pussy clench around nothing in anticipation.

“You just going to stare at it all night?” He asked you.

You shook your head, “Can't wait to taste you, to feel you fuck my mouth.” 

You saw his cock twitch at your words and you looked up at him with a smirk. “Is that what you want?”

Instead of answering, he laced his fingers through your hair, guiding you down toward him. You were bent over, using your elbows for support with your ass in the air. 

“I could get used to this view,” Crosshair said. You didn't have to look up to know he was staring at your ass, but you pulled his gaze back to the back of your head when you kissed the side of his length. His breath hitched at each gentle kiss you gave him, and you heard him try to subdue a moan when you licked a stripe along the vein at the bottom all the way to the head, cleaning up any pre-cum that had already begun to spill out. 

“F-Fuck,” He sputtered.

You peered up at him through your lashes and his grip tightened around your hair, trying his hardest to not buck his hips and force himself into your mouth.

Your tongue swirled around his head before you took it into your mouth.

He whispered your name as he guided you further down onto him, and you took him inch by inch. 

You couldn't fit him all, you felt yourself gag slightly when he got to the back of your throat, which earned another moan from him, and you wrapped one hand around whatever had been left out. 

“Gods, you're taking me so well, wanna feel you gag on me again.” 

You moaned around him as he began using your mouth. He bucked his hips into you as he brought your head further down onto him. Your throat closed around him once again and you felt tears prick in the corner of your eyes. 

You ran your tongue across the bottom of him again, bobbing your head up and down on him, swallowing around him, sucking on him, all while he was bucking his hips into you.

His thrusts started to quicken, becoming slightly more erratic, and you gave a warning tap on his leg, you couldn't take him that quickly. He understood and slowed down.

“S-Sorry, beautiful, didn't mean to hurt you, I'm just getting close..” 

You removed your hand from the base of his length and gently caressed his balls as you continued bobbing on his cock.

“Gonna make me- I'm gonna come down your throat if you- if you keep that up.” He said between pants. 

You hummed around him and kept going. You felt him begin to tighten up and you could hear quiet curses fall from his lips. 

He moaned your name as your cheeks hollowed out around him. He stilled inside your mouth, and you felt hot spurts of him hit the back of your throat. You swallowed everything he gave you before pulling off of him, a trail of saliva keeping you connected to him for a moment longer before you sat up on your knees.

He was breathing heavily and when he looked at you, you could still see his eyes full of lust. 

“Cyar'ika,” He breathed out. “You are so incredible.” 

You leaned forward to kiss him before you felt yourself fall back onto the pillows with him caging you in with his arms.

His kisses were hungry, he pushed his tongue into your mouth, tasting himself and you on your tongue. 

“Want to fuck you. Want to be so good for you.” He said almost into your mouth. “Want to hear you scream my name as I come inside you.” 

His words elicited another moan from you, and he took the opportunity to push his tongue between your lips again.

His cock began pressing into your leg as you felt him getting hard again.

“Crosshair,” you said quietly. He stopped and looked at you, afraid he might have crossed a line. “Lie down.” 

He got up from on top of you and rolled onto his back as you moved to straddle his torso.

You kiss him gingerly on the lips, and then his neck. You felt his hands come up and rest on your hips.

“You gonna be good for me?” 

He nodded quickly. You kissed the tip of his nose before positioning yourself above his cock. He bucked his hips once trying to close the distance.

“Patience.” You told him before sinking down on him.

Heaven. 

That was the only word that could describe how he felt inside of you. His eyes screwed shut, your tight walls felt like they were suffocating his cock as they fluttered around him and he needed to feel more of it. You threw your head back and he tightened his grip on your hips. You sunk yourself down slowly until he had fully disappeared into you. 

Once you had adjusted to how he felt, you moved your hips against him as you leaned over him, seeking out his lips. He kissed you back with fervour as his hands slid around to your back and he bucked his hips to meet your movements.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him back up with you. His face was buried in your chest when you straighted your back, and you could feel his lips press against your breasts, and then his teeth. 

You moaned at the feeling, rolling your hips into him faster. His hands glided along your skin back to your hips. He held them tightly as he lifted you off of him slightly before shoving you back down. 

“Fuck, Crosshair!” You cried, feeling him even deeper inside you. 

He groaned as your walls constricted around him again, this time when he lifted you off of him, he had nearly pulled out completely before slamming himself back in. 

You panted out quiet curses as you tightened your arms around him.

“This okay?” He asked you as he did it again.

“Yes, gods, you feel so good. Want you to fuck me harder, feels so good.” 

You didn't need to ask him twice. His hands slid up to your back as he eased you down on the bed before putting his hands on either side of your head.. He used his knee to push your leg up, opening you up more for him. 

His slammed himself all the way in again, each thrust seeming to reach further and further. Your hands fell above your head and he used the opportunity to grab both of your wrists with his hand, pinning them above you as he drove himself into you again at a brutal pace, relishing in the way your tits bounced with each of his thrusts. 

“Gods Crosshair, being such a good boy for me,” you panted.

His lips landed on your neck, kissing you then biting you, leaving another mark on the soft skin.

“You're marking me up so well.” You said as he gave you another love bite just above the last one.

“Gotta make sure everyone knows that you're mine, make sure that trooper knows who you belong to.”

You arched your back with a moan, just as he thrusted into you. With his relentless pace, you knew you wouldn't last much longer, his words were only sending you further over the edge.

“Getting so close, Crosshair,” you said between thrusts. 

He answered by bringing his free hand down to rub circles around your clit.

“Come on my cock, wanna feel you come, wanna hear you scream for me.”

The coil tightened again, he felt your walls squeezing him and his breath hitched.

“I'm gonna come with you, angel,” He told you. “Tell me where you want me.”

“Inside, I want to feel you fill me up.” 

His grip on your wrists tightened as his pace with his other hand quickened, pulling moans from you with each thrust.

“Pl-please, I'm so cl- so close,” you whined, getting more desperate for your release.

He knew that he couldn't keep going for much longer as his thrusts became more erratic, but he was determined to wait for you.

Your moans grew louder and you clamped around his cock more with each thrust. The build up was getting to be too much, until eventually the knot in your stomach came undone, you screamed his name as your orgasm finally crashed over you. 

“That's it, just like that,” He said, his hand moved from your wrists to intertwine his fingers with yours as he thrusted as far into you as he could, spilling into you, painting your walls with his his release. 

You both stayed as you were, panting, looking into each other's eyes and then his lips came crashing down onto yours as he pulled himself out of you.

“You're incredible,” you told him, completely blissed out.

“So are you.” He buried his face in your neck, not moving from on top of you.

“Shower?” You asked, and he sighed and nodded into you.

“Please.” 

He got up off you and took your hand, waiting for you to lead him.

“I take it you liked the compliments.” He said, more of a statement than a question.

“Hm?”

“Unless that’s how you always act when a clone compliments you.”

You shook your head, “No, that was reserved only for you.” 

He had a smug smile as you began to walk to the fresher with him in tow.

“Can't wait to see what the others say when you walk into the bar, with my marks all over you.” He said, grabbing your hips from behind, pulling you back toward him.

“Well, not all over me, but there's still time, if you're good.”

You escaped from his grip and he all but dragged you into the refresher.

[ireadwithmyears]

you gonna swoon on me, meshla?

Pairing: Kix/GN Reader

Word count: 3.4 K

Tags/warnings: mostly fluff/humour, injections, mentioned fear of needles, fainting, awkward/embarrassing love confessions, first kiss

Summary: when you quite literally swoon into the arms of the medic you’ve had a crush on for months, you aren’t planning on confessing your feelings for him. When the truth embarrassingly slips out anyways, you’re surprised to find that those feelings maybe don’t go as unreciprocated as you had thought.

Note: look, I did it. I finally titled something without referencing a Taylor Swift song. Are you proud of me? I didn’t know I could do that. 

Please, don’t let it be him. 

This is the only thought that runs through your mind as you anxiously wait in a line of troopers, officers, and Jedi generals and commanders, all neatly filed into the medbay of the Negotiator to get updated vaccinations, a precaution, you were told by your CO, in preparation for a planet you were about to be deployed to, that was currently dealing with an outbreak of some disease or other.

If it’s him, you think, you’ll simply crumple to the floor in embarrassment. 

Your name is called, and at first, you don’t react, instinctively turning to find the owner of the voice, searching through a sea of very identical faces until your eyes lock on him.

“Over here,” Kix calls to you. “I’ll take you now.”

Great. 

Absolutely fanfuckingtastic. 

As your eyes are drawn to the prettiest face that you’ve ever seen in the GAR, instinctively, the butterflies in your stomach take flight, insistent as they flutter. 

This makes for a rather poor combination with your already frayed nerves, anxious about what you’re about to do. What he is going to do to you, you correct yourself, feeling your stomach lurch. It takes all of your willpower not to wilt on the spot.

Move, you silently order yourself. Move so that he doesn’t piece together that anything is wrong. 

Reluctantly, you do, feet awkwardly shuffling forward through the crowd as you try not to be sick. This is, quite possibly, the worst scenario. This is exactly what you didn’t want to happen. Being afraid of needles as a grown ass adult is embarrassing enough. But being afraid of needles and having the handsome, kind medic with the beautiful brown eyes and impeccable bedside manner who you, you have to admit it, have had a crush on for a long time being the one to administer your vaccination is just on a whole other level of mortification.

This is humiliating, you think to yourself, and not at all what you signed up for when you became an aid to one of the admirals who is stationed primarily on the bridge of the Negotiator. You work and interact with the clones often, and yet, it’s him whose set apart from the others for you, who’s gentle smiles and kind words, paired with that handsome face always sends your heart racing. So of course, of course, it had to be him who was about to see this embarrassing, completely irrational side of you. 

You try not to let any of this discomfort flicker across your face as he leads you into a curtained off cubicle, gesturing for you to sit. 

You hesitate and slowly, with the trepidation of a loth-cat wandering out into the rain, you lower, tentatively sitting on the edge of the seat.

*

“You’re shaking,” Kix murmurs, gently taking your wrist in his hand to feel your pulse. “And your heart rates a bit jumpy,” he adds after a moment.

His voice is soft, non-judgmental, slightly honeyed with a hint of what you think might be concern.

Still, you rush to answer, eyes widening in false surprise even though, his alluring proximity combined with your looming anxiety easily explains his observations.

“I is it?” You ask, voice pitching upward in a nervous squeak that makes you internally cringe.

His lips pull into a kind smile as he inclines his head, crease forming between his eyebrows as he looks at you with a flicker of curiosity.

“It’s not anything to be alarmed about. But it is usually a sign of anxiety or nerves, in this case,” he remarks, leaning forward and propping his elbows against his knees as he gazes at you. “Are you feeling nervous right now, cyar?” He queries, voice understanding and gentle.

In spite of the fact that the word is unfamiliar to your ears, something about it, and the tone of his voice, makes you blush.

Regardless of  that, you’re quickly shaking your head in denial, defensive.

“No,” you respond, forcing your voice to remain even. “I’m not nervous.” 

There’s a beat, a slight hesitation where he deliberates. Then, by some mercy, he nods, straightening and rising to his feet. 

“Alright, then,” he acquiesces, moving to retrieve something as your eyes warily track him. “If you could just roll up your sleeve, which ever arm you prefer, we’ll have you out of here quickly.”

You nod mutely, throat going dry as you do, trembling hand slowly pushing up the sleeve of your T-shirt. 

He moves around you, stepping up and beginning to wipe a disinfectant over the exposed skin of your arm, just below your shoulder. It’s cold, and you instinctively flinch, unable to hide the jolt as the unexpected sensation sends you spiralling into overdrive.

“Okay, okay, I lied,” you admit frantically, raising your hands to cover your face, cheeks burning. “I am nervous,” you confess, voice muffled against your hands.

“Hey, hey that’s okay,” his response is immediate, voice filled with warmth and reassurance. “You don’t have to hide, meshla, I understand.” 

To his credit, he does sound genuine, kind, not a hint of judgement or condescension in his voice.

Hesitating for a moment, you look up at him through your eyelashes, lips pulled downward into a frown. “I didn’t want you to know,” you mumble, cheeks still flushed. “It’s embarrassing, and I know I can handle it.”

He gives you a nod of encouragement. “I know you can handle it, too,” he responds immediately. “But I don’t find your apprehension embarrassing at all. These are unpleasant, and overall not a fun experience. Even if it is finished quickly, it is understandable to dread it.”

You find that you have nothing to say to his sound logic, and you’re still floundering to come up with a response when his fingers lightly brush against your arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. It’s funny, because you’d expect, what with your nerves already running so high at this moment, that you wouldn’t have the energy to blush at the simple touch, the light, barely there brush of his gloved fingers against your bare skin.

You’d be wrong, especially when he appears to notice, and his eyes linger on your face, pausing for just a moment too long with something, warm and soft in them. 

“And no offense, but you’re a shit liar,” he teases, giving you a slight grin.

“Am not,” you defend, voice indignantly jumping an octave higher which makes him chuckle.

“Right,” he drawls, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m absolutely convinced.”

He sits back, face becoming serious once more as he looks at you. “Is there anything I can do to help make this easier?” He asks, voice soft.

You shake your head, biting your lip uncertainly. “I I’m not sure,” you admit, looking down at your feet.

“That’s okay,” he says, looking thoughtful as he pauses for a moment before he sits forward. “I’d like to try something, and we can see if it is helpful, if you’re game for it?” He asks, raising one eyebrow as he looks at you.

You let out a slow breath, giving him a half shrug. “Honestly? At this point I’m game for anything.” 

He gives you a smile and nod, wheeling his chair up next to you. Almost absently, he reaches up a hand, carefully tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. 

In the back of your mind, you know that it’s probably just so that it’s not in the way of the injection site. But still, your heart flutters at the simple gesture, momentarily distracting you from your fear.

It doesn’t last. 

The minute he moves to the tray of tools beside him, your breath catches in your throat and your eyes jump to stare at him, alarmed.

He looks at you, brown eyes searching, and you’re struck by the deep level of compassion you find in them. 

“You might find this easier if you look away,” he says gently. “Nothing is going to happen without warning. I will tell you what I’m doing, and I won’t proceed until you tell me that you’re ready.”

You give him a slow nod, reluctantly pulling your eyes away and forcing yourself to look forward. Despite your pounding heart And your racing mind, you implicitly trust him, knowing that he’ll keep his word. Satisfied, he speaks again. 

Now, this might sound counterintuitive, but I’d like you to clench your fist as tightly as you can. Keep it nice and tense, and ignore everything that’s going on up here,” he says, fingers gently trailing over your upper arm. “I’m just going to disinfect this again, just to be safe. It’ll feel a bit cold,” he warns, and you hear the sound of a plastic wrapper being torn open as he prepares a new swab.

You give him a small jerk of your head, forcing your fingers to close into a fist and holding it tightly as he moves, quickly swiping over the area a few times.

“Good, now, I’m coming in with the injection. I want you to take a nice, deep breath in for me,” he encourages, and it takes all of your strength not to look at what he’s doing beside you.

You nod again, forcing yourself to pull air through your lungs in a long, controlled breath. “Keep that fist tight,” he reminds you quietly. “You tell me when.” 

You take one, two, three seconds to hold your breath, and force the muscles of your fist to contract tighter, and prepare yourself. Kix waits, his presence unobtrusive, patient and calming. Finally, you give him the go ahead.

“Do it,” you say simply, bracing yourself as you do.

It comes without delay, quick and immediate, and a sting that makes you wince. But, by the time your body is reacting to it, it’s already gone.

Your breath exits your lungs in a slow, relieved stream of air as Kix speaks, switching out the syringe for a cotton swab, holding it against the site for a moment. 

“Perfect. All done,” he praises, and you don’t have to look at him to know that there’s a smile on his face, matching the warm inflection of his voice. 

You feel him carefully apply a small Band-Aid to the site, smoothing it down with his fingers before he turns to you, grinning.

“You’re all set. Now, I’m just going to take you to the waiting area, and just wait there for five, ten minutes to make sure you’re good to go,” he continues, discarding the no longer needed supplies.

You not in understanding, and he moves to get the door for you as you rise to your feet when suddenly, something makes you pause as you move to step past him.

Huh, that’s weird.

Distantly, you register that your ears are ringing, and strangely, the world has gone out of focus around you, blurring around the edges as your head spins, suddenly dizzy.

Kix’s eyes are alert and observant, carefully watching as your movements become unsteady, taking note of how the colour has quickly drained from your face. He moves, easily intercepting your path by stepping in front of you, holding out an arm, stalling your movements with a hand on your shoulder. You don’t even have the energy to blush at the touch, and that’s when you should clue into the fact that something is wrong. But you don’t, because everything feels so out of focus and detached from reality. You remain blissfully unconcerned.

“Wo, easy. You gonna swoon on me, meshla?” He asks, carefully keeping his tone casual, as not to startle you further.

He sounds far away, disjointed, and your mind is hazy, scrambling in spite of the dozen possible retorts you have to his teasing. 

What you should say is no. 

What you should say is that you’re completely fine, thanks for asking.

What you should say is actually, now that you mention it I do feel a little bit funny. 

What ends up coming out of your mouth in a slurred, unsteady voice is “well, I’ve actually been swooning for you since the day we met, Kix...”

Then, possibly because of the injection, or more likely because of your far away, detached mortification at what you just said, your body decides that it’s time to piece out.

Without warning, you collapse, and before you have time to worry about how much it’s going to hurt when you hit the ground, you fall, directly into his arms, outstretched and waiting to catch you.

The last thing you see is wide, amber eyes filled with concern before your vision goes dark, and the ringing in your ears crescendos to an almost painful, fever inducing pitch before everything falls silent and still.

*

When you come to, the complete embarrassment and stupidity of what you had said before you fainted doesn’t hit you immediately. 

You’re lying on a bed, and he’s there, warm and steady, but giving no outward indication that you had just confessed your feelings for him before collapsing into his arms. So, your brain doesn’t immediately feel the need to sound the alarm and start panicking.

“You’re safe, meshla, everything‘s alright, just keep those eyes open for me and breathe. This happens all the time,” he says reassuringly, eyes only glancing away from you momentarily to study a readout as another medic tightens a blood pressure cuff around your arm.

“Wha what happened?” You ask, concerned but still dazed. At the seemingly loud sound of the cuff being undone, your head jerks to the side, flinching.

“Shh, nothing for you to worry about, cyar,” Kix soothes.

There’s that word again, you think distantly. It’s comforting, and did he just smooth his hand over your hair, or are you just hallucinating all of this?

“Your blood pressure dropped when you got up. It’s still a bit low, so I’m going to get you a juicebox. That’ll help bring it back up. You’ll feel better once you’ve got some sugar in you,” he says, voice calm and unfazed as he passes you the juice. “Just drink that up for me, and I’ll be back in a few minutes to check your blood pressure again and make sure you’re clear to go, alright?”

You can only nod slowly, allowing him to adjust your pillows and help you into a sitting position before he rushes off, the other medic trailing behind.

It’s only when you’re halfway through the Juicebox when your eyes comically widen, and you nearly choke on the juice as you suddenly remember.

You had confessed your feelings for your medic, not only that, but in the most embarrassing way possible, and then you fainted in his arms.

Fuck.

It all comes rushing back to you, and you have to set your juice down as it does, letting out a long, mortified breath as your head falls into your hands.

You need to leave. 

You need to leave right now. You need to get out of here and save you both the awkwardness of having to talk about your embarrassing blunder. The door isn’t that far, you could make it. You could just slip out, and you both could go on and never talk about it again. 

Now, if you were thinking clearly, you would know that trying to make a mad dash out of the medbay without being cleared to do so is impossible. It just is. Medics of the 501st are like hawks, having a bit of a reputation for troopers who try to bolt, and will swoop down on anyone who tries to sneak out before they even make it to the medbay’s double doors. 

Yet somehow, in your delusional state of mind, you actually believe that you can do the impossible. You are different and you will be the one to succeed where all others have failed.

You don’t. 

You manage to slip out of bed, only feeling slightly unsteady on your feet, and you make it five, ten steps before there’s warm hands settling on your shoulders from behind and a deliberate clearing of a throat as you’re turned to face Kix, jaw tight, and face stern, a look that you’re more than certain is well practiced, and very effective at instantly causing you to break out in a nervous sweat.

“What are you doing out of bed, little one?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

“I, uh, n nothing?” You squeak, knowing even before you speak that it’s not going to convince him in the slightest. 

“Hmph,” he huffs disapprovingly, gently steering you back to your bed and nudging you to sit down on the edge. “Like I said earlier, you’re a horrible liar.” 

He picks up the Juicebox, from where you had abandoned it on the nightstand, and frowns. “You didn’t even finish this,” he scolds, before setting it back down with a sigh. 

There is disappointment in his voice, and it instantly makes you swallow, looking down at the ground. You feel the need to say something, anything, so that he stops looking at you like you’ve kicked a tooka right in front of him. 

“I was trying to save you embarrassment,” you blurt out, not knowing how else to explain.

“Embarrassment,” he says, sounding genuinely baffled, which, in turn, makes you feel confused. He frowns, tilting his head to observe you for a moment before slowly giving it a bewildered shake. Carefully, he quietly goes to close the curtains around you both, offering you at least a little bit of privacy.

You’re still trying to figure out what in the galaxy you’re supposed to say to explain yourself to him when he turns back to face you, beating you to it.

“What you said, before you fainted, did, did you mean it?” He asks, straightforward and to  the point, but voice losing its usual sureness. 

When you fail to respond, he takes a step forward, eyes meeting yours squarely. There’s something there, something that glimmers within his warm irises that you dare to believe, for one moment, might just be hope, that your answer just, slips out, small and honest and simple.

“Yes,” you breathe, voice barely above a whisper. “I did.” 

It’s Kix’s turn to falter, breath audibly stuttering as his eyes widen briefly, before he takes another step towards you.

“A and what if,” he says, voice a low murmur. “What if I told you I felt the same way?” He asks, eyes intent as he gazes at you.

You blink, staring up at him for a moment before speaking, voice not as confident as you’d like. “I’d say I don’t believe you,” you admit, slightly sheepish as your eyes dart away. When they come back to meet his, though, there’s a sparkle, a slight challenge in them.

“I’d say, prove it.” 

Wordlessly, he nods, unable to hide the breath that audibly catches at your words, quickly closing the distance between you two and moving a hand to tilt up your chin, holding it gently as he stares down at you, expression almost reverent. Then his eyes fall to your expectant lips, and it’s your turn to tremble, watching as they seam to darken slightly. 

He leans forward, breath ghosting over your lips before his, warm and soft and so, so gentle, brush against yours.

It’s a chaste, quick thing, that leaves you wanting and is over far too soon. A displeased noise leaves your throat as he steps back, suddenly tentative and unsure. You surge to feet and quickly step into his space because force, now that he’s here, now that you know he wants you just as much as you want him, you need more, and you’re determined to get it.

Luckily for you, he understands, meeting you half way as your hands scramble for perch’s on his armour plating, trying to pull him towards you. He happily obliges, hand cupping your chin and tilting your head back as his lips meet yours again.

A low hum escapes him as his body presses against yours, lips pressing much more insistently this time as they meet with yours. It’s hot and feverish and already leaving you breathless when his hand drops from your chin, experimentally dipping down to run his fingers along your hip, before he urges you closer to him, holding your waist to pull you closer, eliciting a small, surprised gasp to escape your parted lips. You feel his lips tug into a self-satisfied smirk against you before he pulls back. 

Unwilling to let you go just yet, he lets his forehead rest against yours, unable to pull his eyes away from your still parted, slightly kiss swollen lips. Maker, he thinks to himself silently. That might just be the most beautiful site he’s ever laid his eyes upon. Paired only with what he finds when his eyes trail lower, your chest, rising and falling heavily as your heartbeat doubtlessly flutters rapidly at the effect he has on you

“Do you believe me now, meshla?” He asks lowly, unable to resist grazing his thumb along your lips, causing you to shutter.

“Yes,” you manage to say breathlessly. “I I believe you.”

“Mm, good,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your temple before pulling away, with obvious reluctance.

“You’ll have more of those, then,” he promises, turning to leave before looking back at you with a wicked grin on his face.

“But you have to finish your Juicebox first,” he reminds you with a teasing glare before exiting, letting the curtain drop behind him, leaving you alone with your still racing, scattered thoughts and your wildly fluttering heart, and, of course, a half empty juice box that is now destined to be finished in record time. I

[momojedi]

Since you asked for prompts, how about Tech x reader, where he’s nervous that they don’t like his rambling but they reassure him that they like it/think it’s cute/like learning new things?

— RAMBLING pairing. tech x gn! reader

**

type. one shot note. thank you for your request! i hope you like it, i did rush it a little in the end because I wrote it pretty late at night, apologies for that <3 i also think i might have really butchered tech's speech patterns lmao word count. 868

star wars masterlist

79s was packed to the brim when you arrived. The bar was filled with lively talks and loud laughter, and despite the bloody war raging outside of Coruscant the atmosphere seemed almost ... peaceful. Hunter cleared his throat as you looked around. "I'm gonna go find us a table," he offered, turning to you, "you guys might as well go order already." You thanked him with a grateful smile before heading to the bar, swiftly followed by the four remaining troopers.

The Bad Batch had been put on shore leave for an entire week after another successful mission, and so to celebrate it you had offered to pay up for a few rounds of drinks. "Oh, you don't have to do that," Echo had tried to talk you out of it before quickly being pushed aside by Wrecker. "We won't stop ya if y'want to though!" You had simply laughed at his eagerness and Echo's exasperated sigh before hailing a speeder.

"... fascinating process known as "amphibac breathing," which allows them to extract oxygen from both air and water. This ability showca-" "For kriff's sake, Tech, no one cares!" Wrecker interrupted his brother's talk. The genius had been so invested in his scientific immersion of the Mon Calamari species that he'd barely even realised he'd started rambling to you. At the realisation his cheeks suddenly flushed a bright red and he immediately retreated to his datapad. "Ah," he mumbled, "apologies."

Although you know Wrecker didn't really mean it, you couldn't help but feel a bit upset at him for sassing Tech like that. Despite him and his ramblings usually being seen as irritating and smart-assy, you loved listening to him. You and Tech had been dancing around each other for a while now, working together most of the time, exchanging love-sick glances and flirtatious remarks that made your pulse quicken, yet never really acting further than that. It had been frustrating for the entire batch to say the most.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom," you sighed as you stood up. Echo nodded. "Alright, we'll take manage the drinks."

As soon as you'd left, Crosshair nudged Tech. "Good job." Tech glanced up from his datapad to meet his brother's mocking stare. He rose a brow. "I do not understand." Crosshair snickered. "You know, you're only gonna push 'em away if you keep that nerd talk up." Tech's mouth was suddenly all dry at the thought of that. Push you away? Did his talking really do that? He couldn't deny the feelings he'd been harbouring for you and imagining he'd drive you away ... he couldn't let that happen.

When you came back from the bathrooms, Hunter was waving you over from the table they'd claimed. You settled next to Tech, smiling brightly at him only to be found with a brief glimpse before he looked back at his beloved screen. This made your smile fade away and quickly be replaced with a frown. This was odd. He barely talked to you that night, not a comment nor a ramble and soon you started to get worried. What was up with him?

Later that night, after a few rounds of drinks and a fully wasted Wrecker, you all stood outside of the clone bar. Hunter was already calling up a speeder while Crosshair and Echo did their best to keep Wrecker from pulling any drunk stunts. This left you and Tech. He was still refusing to look or talk to you, constantly avoiding your eyes and escaping your attention. Determined to figure out what was wrong with him, you cleared your throat. "Tech, did I do something wrong?" Tech seemed perplexed by that question, eyes widening. "What?" "Well," you continued, looking at your feet, "Ever since I came back from the bathroom earlier, you've been avoiding me like some kind of virus ... did I upset you in any way?" The words sunk in and for a second, silence filled the air around you both. Tech hesitated before looking at you. Finally, you thought, a small sigh escaping your lip.

"No, you did not do anything wrong," he huffed, rubbing the back of his neck. Then his eyes took on a sad glimmer. "Does my rambling ... bother you?" Now it was your turn to look at him perplexedly. "What do you mean?" He sighed. "Crosshair mentioned earlier that my, as he put it, 'nerd talk', may potentially be tedious to you," Tech glanced at you, "could that apply?"

You stared at him for a minute before suddenly bursting into a fit of giggles. He frowned, a cute frown that made your heart swell. "Oh Tech," you finally gasped once you'd caught your breath again, "None of your 'nerd talk' bothers me. On the contrary," you gently took his hand into yours, intertwining your fingers, "I love listening to you - I love learning from you and I love, well, you!" You grinned, cheeks blushing a deep red. Tech looked at your hands before glancing back up at you, ears red and face flushed until finally a small grin pulled at his lips.

"Well," he spoke softly, "that is quite convenient then, because I appear to love you, too."

[mandos-mind-trick]

Dream of You

Summary: You know things. Things you shouldn’t. You knew about the clones, about the Republic’s army long before the war started. You knew about their training, you knew about attacks and battles even before they happened, long before the rest of the galaxy knew about them. Your only regret is not saying something sooner. 

Pairing: Echo x reader Soulmate AU

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, unprotected sex, slight aftercare, angst, war, Echo's "death", slight description of medical stuff, paranoia, depression, very brief implied mention of suicidal thoughts, fluffy, happy ending, Soulmate AU

A/N: Did I intend the last two soulmate fics to have similar links...not really. It just happened this way. Also, this is the NSFW Echo soulmate fic, the one with ace!reader is coming shortly. I'll be making a post when I'm close to finishing that one. I really struggled with this so sorry if it's garbage. Echo was not musing for me this time around.

MASTERLIST

Blaster fire. 

It’s all around you, though that was fairly common for your dreams. You’re not sure where you are. You can’t see anything defining, nothing that would point out where you are or what you’re doing. 

“This is our only chance. We’ve got to stop him.” The voice echoes in your head. It’s coming from you. It’s your voice. 

You rush forward, grabbing a shield from the ground despite the bolts being fired at you. You rush towards the shuttle, firing at the droids in an attempt to secure it. 

“Echo look out!” 

Before the words register in your mind, before you can react you’re flying, being thrown forward by a wave of heat and energy. 

An explosion. 

The sound registers in your ears as you hit the ground. It’s dark, wherever you’ve landed. The pain begins to register as the shock wears off. Your whole body feels as if it's on fire. You can feel your pulse in your legs and arms, blood on your tongue. You can’t move. Even if you wanted to, even if you tried to call out, you can’t. 

You’re dying. 

****

You wake with a scream. Tears are gliding down your cheeks, and have been judging on the dampness of your face. You’re shaking uncontrollably, breaths coming in hyperventilating gasps. 

Your soulmate’s going to die. 

A hand lands on your shoulder, shaking you gently. “You alright?” 

You’re still hyperventilating, your brain refusing to respond. You’re soulmate’s going to die. Your soulmate’s going to die. It’s the only thing you can think of. 

“Look at me.” One of your fellow medics, Zena, kneels down on the other side of you. You like Zena. You’d consider her a friend. “I need you to breathe, otherwise you’re going to pass out.” 

She’s right. You can feel the tingling in your hands and feet and face as the carbon dioxide in your blood rapidly decreases. Zena takes a deep breath, holding it before letting it out. You try to mimic her, slowing your hyperventilating until your breathing is semi-even, broken only by the occasional sobs as you continue to cry. 

“What is it?” Zena asks, sitting on the edge of your bunk. “What’s going on?” 

“E-Echo.” You stutter out. “He’s...he’s go-gonna die!” 

A sympathetic look crosses her face. She’s one of the few that know about your soulmate, an ARC Trooper stationed with the 501st named Echo. You’ve never met, at least in person. You share a unique connection with him. Every time you sleep, you dream of what your soulmate will experience the next day. It started about eight years ago. You knew things about the GAR, about the war, long before it started. You’ve dreamed of battles that have happened since, things you shouldn’t know. Things that would get you arrested and sent to interrogation. 

It was what led you to sign up to be a medic, the hope that you might by chance run into your soulmate. Of course, you hadn’t known back then about the rules, the Kaminoans and the GAR forbidding the clones from forming links with their soulmates. The more you learned about the clones, the more angry it made you at the GAR. 

Zena squeezes your arm. “Maybe...maybe Commander Bly could help. He could alert the 501st command or something.” 

You scrub a hand over your face, smearing tears all over your skin. She’s right. Maybe...maybe things aren’t hopeless. You’re risking a lot. You’ll have to reveal your connection to Echo. If anyone finds out, he’ll be forced to reject you. By saving him, you might force yourselves apart for good. 

It would be better than losing him permanently. 

You throw the covers back, sliding your feet into your boots. “I need to find the Commander.” 

You’ve only spoken to Commander Bly once, while you patched his wound after a battle. You didn’t interact with command much outside the med bay. You were so far below their ranks. Your job was to patch wounds and keep injured troopers alive long enough to receive care. You were about to step so far out of your zone, but if it might save your soulmate’s life, then it will be worth it. 

You’re out the door of the bunks in a flash, before anyone can bring into question your course of action, before you can really question your decision. You head to the bridge, the first place you can think of as to where Commander Bly might be. 

You’re stopped at the doors before you can even get inside. “Authorized personnel only.” The trooper says. 

“I need to see Commander Bly.” You say, putting as much authority in your voice as you can. 

“He’s busy.” The trooper says. 

“It’s an emergency.” You say. “Lives are at stake.” 

The troopers at the door share a glance before one steps inside. You only get a quick glance through the doors before they’re closing again. You stand there and wait for what feels like too long, before the doors open, the trooper returning with Commander Bly in tow. 

He seems far more imposing now than he had when you’d patched his wound. You had been running high on adrenaline, patching trooper after trooper for hours after the battle ended. The adrenaline made you more brave. You could use some of that now. Right now all you have is desperation. 

Commander Bly leads you to a private room, your heart pounding in your chest. How were you going to tell him? How were you going to make him believe you? You’d have to spill, you’d have to tell him the truth and hope he believed the same as the other clones about soulmates. You’re risking so much, but if it saves even one life, perhaps it will be worth it. 

“You think someone’s in trouble?” He asks, crossing his arms over his chest. 

You nod, taking a deep breath. Your hands are still shaking, still rattled by your dream. “It’s the 501st, sir.” You push the tears away, not wanting to cry in front of your Commander. “Something’s wrong, something’s going to happen.” 

“And how do you know this?” He asks skeptically, raising an eyebrow at you. 

“My...my soulmate is with the 501st.” You say. “We share a dream connection. I-I had a dream last night. He’s going to die.” 

Commander Bly stares at you for a moment before he sighs, his shoulders drooping. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you want me to do.” 

“Warn them. Contact them. Something!” You say, raising your voice a bit. “There has to be something that can be done.” 

He shakes his head. “The 501st is on a campaign right now. No warning I could send is going to change what happens. We have to do our duty first.” 

Tears blur your eyes at his words. Of course it was foolish to think you could stop one clone from dying. You shouldn’t have bothered. Now you could be reported to GAR officials. 

“I’m sorry.” The Commander at least has the decency to sound sympathetic. He puts a hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently. “There’s a shuttle leaving for Coruscant in less than an hour. I’ll put in the leave request paperwork.” 

You feel defeated. That’s it, then. There’s no swooping in and saving him, no way of preventing his death. Maybe this was the way it was always supposed to be. Fate wouldn’t give you a soulmate you weren’t going to meet. 

So what does that say about you? 

You drag your feet back to the barracks, packing your things silently as the tears slide down your cheeks. You feel numb, like your body is already preparing for the inevitable pain. It was going to happen today. You don’t know exactly when. It’s almost worse. 

You find the shuttle, boarding it without a word. You squish yourself in between two crates, pulling your knees to your chest as you wait for the soul-crushing pain of your soulmate’s death to hit you. 

***

You’ve been on Coruscant for two days. You’ve fluttered in and out of sleep, tears, and a deep numbness that prevented you from doing much else besides sitting and staring out the window of your hotel. You haven’t dreamed once in the many hours you’ve spent asleep. It’s all been dark, black, a void of nothingness. 

Was this what it felt like losing a soulmate? 

No one could ever fully describe it. They said it was horribly painful, like a piece of them was dying and decaying and it left a gaping hole in its place that never fully healed. 

You certainly feel like one big gaping hole. 

There’s been no pain, no soul-shredding feeling. Just numbness and emptiness. Perhaps it’s different for everyone. Perhaps your brain had blocked it out to save you from the pain of having to feel part of your soul dying. 

On the third day they arrive. 

You had managed to drag yourself into the shower, and you answer the door with dripping hair. Two members of the Coruscant Guard stand at your door. They ask your name and you confirm it. You’ve been summoned to the GAR headquarters. 

You already know what this is about. 

They let you at least make yourself decent and put shoes on before they escort you to the speeder. You’re not under arrest, which is a good sign, but you can imagine you’re headed into an interrogation. Someone had spilled on your link, on your knowledge of things you shouldn’t have known. Was it Commander Bly? One of your fellow civilians? 

You’re not mad. 

You’re far too numb to feel anything that strong. 

You’re escorted into the building and led through the labyrinth of lifts and halls. You’re left in a room with hardly more than a table and chairs and an overhead light. You lower yourself into one of the chairs, trying to prepare yourself for your impending interrogation. You can only imagine the things you’re going to get asked about. 

You’re not sure how long you wait there in the plain, windowless room. It feels like an external representation of how you feel inside. You can’t even bring yourself to feel nervous when an Admiral joins you in the room. 

He asks your name and your station, questions you can easily answer. You know you can’t lie. Getting caught in a lie isn’t going to help you any, and besides, why would you lie now? Your soulmate’s dead. They can’t do anything about it. 

“Having highly confidential information about the GAR and its battles puts you in a precarious situation.” The Admiral says. 

“Well, you won’t have to worry about that anymore.” You say. “After all, my soulmate is dead.” 

“Yes, what a pity. The loss of clones is an unfortunate aspect of the war that the Republic has no choice but to accept.” The Admiral says, no sympathy in his tone whatsoever. “You could have been a useful asset. Perhaps if we had known, things could have gone differently.” 

Your hands ball into fists, sudden rage boiling under the surface. It’s the first thing you’ve felt in days. You know it’s not true. They wouldn’t have risked anything to save Echo. He’s just another clone to them. Another faceless body to throw in front of a blaster. 

You’re shuttled back to your hotel and left at the door like nothing had happened. You’re still burning with rage, your body clinging to the first emotion it’s been able to conjure in days. You want to flip the table in your room, destroy the bed, break a window, something. You don’t have that kind of money, though, to pay for those damages. Nor do you want to put some poor housekeeper through that. 

Instead you drop on the bed and let out a scream into the pillow. The rage begins to boil down to tears, your sobs muffled by the dampening pillow. You cry yourself to sleep, drifting back into a state of numbness. 

***

It’s cold. You can’t see anything, you can’t hear anything. All around you is cold and dark. You can’t move, you can’t feel. You’re numb. The pain is gone, replaced by nothing. Nothing but numbing blackness in the cold around you. 

No, wait. You can hear something. Something off in the distance. It’s getting louder, echoing in your mind. 

CT-1409. 

CT-1409.

***

You can still hear it when you wake. 

CT-1409. 

You blink the tears from your lashes, sitting up on the bed. It’s night, the city illuminated outside the window. You haven’t been asleep long. You’d been in the GAR headquarters longer than you thought. 

CT-1409. 

You rise from the bed, moving towards the window, looking down at the city as far as you can, until it disappears into the cloud of haze that separates the upper and lower levels. You suddenly back away from the window, all but punching the button to close the shutters. It cuts off the only light, bathing the room in complete darkness. For half a moment you expect the cold to come seeping back in. 

CT-1409. 

You need to get off Coruscant. You need to get out from under the eyes of the Republic. You need to hide. You need to disappear before they make you.  

CT-1409. 

You use your savings to purchase a ship. It’s a piece of junk, but it has hyperspace capabilities. That’s all you need. You need to find somewhere remote. After that, you’ll figure it out from there. You have little money left, but being a medic means you’ll be able to find jobs easily. You can work anywhere. Someone’s always looking to hire medics. 

You just need to disappear from the Republic. 

*** 2 Years Later ***

You’re still dreaming. 

You had dreamed of the frozen darkness most out of everything. Occasionally you’d get more. Strange noises, things spoken in a language you couldn’t understand. Occasionally you’ll see flashes, images. You can never quite make them out. 

You think it might be your brain trying to get used to dreaming its own dreams again. Or perhaps it's your brain's way of trying to make up for the loss of your soulmate. The numbness has slowly faded into the background, though it hasn’t really left. You found a remote planet to live on, one far from war. You got a job at the medical center in a small town, the job almost boring compared to the heart racing adrenaline inducing insanity of the war. 

You don’t mind. It keeps you off the radar. 

You’ve built a decent life here in two years. As decent a life as you could, at least. You still feel empty and lonely. That longing feeling for your other half hasn’t left. The fact you know you’ll never get to have him only makes it worse. 

You cry more than you’d like to admit. You understand now why people don’t last long when their soulmate dies. You’d hardly call this living. More just simply existing. 

You have considered it. You can never quite bring yourself to. There’s always something in the back of your mind holding you back. Sometimes you wish you were brave enough. 

It’s one of those nights when it happens. 

***

It’s dark and cold again. It feels different this time. Something’s happening, but you’re confused. 

Suddenly the darkness is gone, and you’re staring at what seems to be a control room. 

“We-We have to get to the shuttle to escape the Citadel.” The voice echoes in your head. “No! I’ll go first!” 

“Echo.” Another voice says. “Echo, it’s Rex. I’m here.” 

A face enters your vision. You know that face. You’ve seen it many times. “Rex? You, you came back for me?” 

“Yes.” He looks guilty. “Yes I did.” 

“What, what happened? Where am I?” Your gaze swings to look around the room.

“It’s okay, Echo.” Your gaze is drawn back to Rex. “You’re safe now. Just sit tight trooper. You’re going home.” 

***

You startle awake, tears sliding down your cheeks. You stare at the wall across from your bed in disbelief. It can’t be...but it had felt like the other dreams. 

Has he been alive this whole time? 

Had he somehow survived the explosion? It would explain the other dreams, the lack of pain at his passing. Had your suffering been simply your own creation because you thought he was dead? 

Has he been alive this whole time? 

Your dream means he’ll be getting rescued today. Hope blooms inside you that it is true, that it is really a dream of what’s going to happen. Many feelings flood you for the first time in a long time. The numbness is pushed away as emotions bubble within you. You don’t know whether to be happy or worried or sad or relieved. All you can do is cry. Again. 

Of course, you’ll have no way of knowing if it really does come true. You have no connections in the GAR anymore, and you can’t risk them finding you. You did sort of desert the army and break your contract. You know a prison cell is waiting for you if you go back. 

Fate won’t give you a soulmate you’ll never meet. 

You’re not entirely sure you trust fate. It’s put you through the wringer, but with this new development, that could change. Maybe you will find your way together after all. 

You call out of work, knowing you won’t be able to focus. You hardly leave your bed, thinking over the dream, over the fact your soulmate is alive. The longer you lay there, the faster the regrets start seeping in. What if you hadn’t left the Republic? You could have found a way to finally get to him, to finally meet him for the first time. 

There was no guarantee. 

Fate won’t give you a soulmate you’ll never meet. Perhaps it was always meant to happen this way. Perhaps it was better if it happened this way. 

***

Your dreams return to normal as the months pass. Dreams of battles continue to be the most common. You see new faces now, faces you don’t recognize in your dreams through Echo’s eyes. Things have changed for him too. 

You’ve always wondered what he saw in his dreams. Battles too, you imagined, though different ones than the ones he partook in. You wonder if he ever saw the clones you couldn’t save, his brothers suffering, you attempting to save their lives. 

Your dreams must seem very boring now. 

You wonder if he had still dreamed of you during the period of...whatever had happened to him. You wonder if he feels relief seeing how different your life is now. You wonder what he thinks of you. 

You wonder if he even wants to meet you. 

You shake those thoughts away, burying yourself in your work at the medical center. You don’t want to think about it. Rejection was still a strong possibility. Between the war and the GAR and the fact that not everyone wanted a soulmate, he could still reject you. 

You force the thoughts away, focusing on your dreams instead. Watching what he’s doing, making sure he’s not going to die again. 

Then the war ends. 

Despite the war being over, chaos still ensues in the galaxy. You don’t trust the Empire, and that distrust only continues as your dreams continue. You watch the things that happen to Echo, and his eventual desertion. You’re helpless to do much but watch the events that transpire. 

You wait patiently, biding your time as Echo and his squad try to find their place in the galaxy. It feels almost wrong to have such a front row seat to the goings on in his life despite never having met him in person before. Then again, he has a front row seat to your life as well, though your life is much more boring than his, even now. 

As the weeks pass and the disruption continues in the galaxy, your new home planet remains entirely untouched. There wasn't much special about it. No major exports, no convenient hyperspace lanes nearby, no major cities. It's a perfect place to hide. 

Echo has also found a place to hide. You begin to see a place popping up in your dreams regularly. An idea begins to form in your head as you learn about the place in your dreams. 

Ord Mantell. 

Cid's Parlor. 

You could easily find that place. Ord Mantell's not far from your current home. You could reach it in a matter of hours. All you have to do is take time off work and jump in your scrap pile of a ship. 

The idea makes you nervous. What if he doesn't want to meet you? What if he rejects you? Years. Years you've been waiting for this. You spent years thinking he was dead. Now he's within reach and...you're scared. 

You dream of yourself that night. 

You've already made up your mind, or fate has made it for you. 

You're halfway to Ord Mantell before the sun rises on your home planet. 

***

Cid's Parlor is a rather seedy place. You've been in worse, but you suppose for a front it's perfect. You take the stairs slowly, trying to remember to breathe. This is the moment. Two years ago you would have been running in and throwing your arms around him. 

It's been a long two years. 

You enter the bar, the inside not any better than the outside. There's a weequay and an ithorian at a dejarik table, and then the five at the bar. You recognize them from your dreams. Well, you recognize four of them. 

You've never actually seen Echo. You were always seeing from his perspective. You always assumed he'd look like the other clones, but then you'd seen the new group he was with and realized maybe they don't all look alike. 

You can pick him out in the group by process of elimination. You recognize the other three, having seen them at various points, and then of course there's the girl. You take a long look at Echo, tears gathering in your eyes. 

You're so close. So close. 

"Echo?" You ask, the bar seeming to go quiet as soon as you say it. 

Everyone turns to look at you, brows furrowed in confusion. Echo steps back from the bar, staring at you. He's paler than the others, his face sunken and gaunt. There's a headset wrapped around his head, and you notice the cybernetic right arm. 

The furrow of his brows lift into shock, his eyes widening as he stares at you. He whispers your name, almost too quiet for you to hear. 

You're moving before you realize it, your arms wrapping around him. He's solid and warm and his plastoid chest plate digs into your skin, but you don't care. He's real. 

His arms wrap around your shoulders, holding you against him. 

"I-I didn't think..." You sniffle, a tear sliding down your cheek. "Two years! I thought you were dead."

He lets out a chuckle, his hand sliding down your back. "Yeah. Everyone thought I was." 

You pull away as a throat clears beside you. Your cheeks warm a bit. You'd completely forgotten the others. 

"Echo...care to explain?" The one with the bandana, Hunter you think, asks. 

Echo slips his arm back around you, holding you against his side. "Everyone, I'd like you to meet my soulmate."

The guarded look on Hunter's face lessens just a bit. You hadn't expected to be welcomed with open arms and trusted immediately. Not after the things you've seen. 

You get introduced to everyone, and you find yourself sitting at the bar, telling Echo all about yourself. Where you came from, how you joined the GAR, why you left, where you wound up. He knew a lot already. He'd dreamed of you occasionally during the two years you'd thought he was dead. He hadn't really understood what was happening during that time though. To be fair, you hadn't either. 

You talk a bit about them, filling in some gaps in your understanding of what was happening to them. 

"We need somewhere to lay low for a while." Hunter says. 

"Well, I just happen to know the perfect place." You say. "It kept me hidden from the Republic and there hasn't been even a glance from the Empire so far."

"It's out of the way of most hyperspace lanes." Tech says, typing away at his datapad. "No major cities or ports. Mostly self-sufficient. Nothing anyone would be interested in." 

You shrug. "It's not much, but it is safe." 

***

"We're going in that?" Echo asks as you stand next to your ship docked at the port. 

"Hey, don't hate on Bertha." You pat the side of the ship, something clanging inside. "She helped me escape the Republic."

You lower the ramp, having to fiddle with it as it sticks for a moment. Echo gives you an incredulous look but you wave him in. She may be a bit temperamental, but your ship has a special place in your heart. 

"Tech will have a heyday with this one if you let him get his hands on it." Echo says, taking the copilot's seat. 

"Well, he's more than welcome if he gets bored." You say, firing up the engine. "Can't make her any worse." You grin at him, giving the control panel a solid smack to stop it from rattling. 

Echo doesn't relax until you're in hyperspace. You don't take it personally. You had been a little nervous flying the first time but though she was prone to rattling, Bertha flew perfectly fine. 

You turn to look at Echo as the blue of hyperspace surrounds you. You reach out, pressing your hand to his cheek. His skin isn't as warm as you'd expect, your brow furrowing a little. 

His hand lifts, resting against yours. Your thumb strokes his cheek, reminding yourself that he's real. He's right here with you finally. 

"Echo...what happened to you?" You ask. 

And he tells you. You spend the entire trip listening to his story. He starts at the beginning, explaining things you knew and many you didn't. You listen to it all. The good, the bad, the heartbreaking. 

You cry for him a few times. Cry for the pain and the misery and the torture he's faced. He wipes your tears, dampening his glove but he doesn't seem to care. 

You talk almost the entire flight, catching up on years of missed time. Echo only slightly clings to the seat as Bertha drops from hyperspace and you begin the hour flight to your home planet. It's slow going, Bertha not exactly made for speed. 

The others are already there when you land, by no surprise. Though your home was small, you could offer them a roof over their head until they found something more permanent. 

If they decided to stay here. 

You try not to think about that too much. 

"Glad you made it." Hunter says, eyeing Bertha as you and Echo step off the ramp. 

"Not you too." You make a face. "She flies just fine, she's just got creaky joints."

You can already see the wheels turning in Tech's head as he eyes Bertha. You lead them inside, showing them your small house. You only have one spare room and a couch but they assure you they can just sleep on the ship. You feel bad, but then again you hadn't really been expecting this when you ran from the Republic. 

You hadn't expected a lot to happen. 

You make dinner, probably the first home cooked meal they've had in a long time, or possibly ever. Echo hovers in the kitchen but you don't mind. You like having him close after all this time. You're still a little afraid you'll turn around and find he's gone. Like he's been a figment of your imagination this whole time. 

They leave you and Echo the house for the night, and you can tell by the look on Hunter's face it's deliberate. You hadn't really considered that but you knew anything could happen after you meet your soulmate.

You find Echo in your room after you finish cleaning up. He's standing next to the bed, tracing the carving on the wall. 

CT-1409 

You'd carved it after hearing it again in your dream. You'd been half dazed, repeating the number over and over in your head. 

He turns to look at you, fingers resting in the center of the 9. Your cheeks warm a bit, not having thought about that. You just have his designation number carved in your wall. You might as well have his name there. 

"I did that after I heard it in a dream." You say, approaching the bed. "I couldn't get it out of my head." You crawl onto the bed, kneeling next to him. "I put it there because it felt like in a way you were still with me, though I know now you never left." 

He drops his hand, turning to face you. He looks a little guilty. "I'm sorry for putting you through that."

"Don't apologize for something you couldn't control." You say, putting your hand on his scomp arm. "You're here now. That's what matters." 

He glances down at your hand before looking back up at your face, those big brown eyes shining in the orange light of sunset shining in through your window. 

"I made a promise once." He says, staring at you. "To someone very close to me. We promised each other that after the war ended, we'd find our soulmates and settle down somewhere. Get married and have families. Grow old together far away from everything else."

You smile softly at him, gently guiding him to sit on your bed with you. "Well, I'd be more than happy to help you keep your part of the promise."

You sit with him, talking late into the night. There's no rush now. You have all the time in the world. 

***1 Year Later***

"Just a pinch of this." You say, blindly holding out the jar of spice. 

It's taken from your hand and set on the counter, your ears picking up the small clink of metal on tile. Hands grip your waist from behind as you stand on your toes to reach the second shelf of the cupboard. 

"You know I can reach those easily." Echo murmurs in your ear. 

You grin at him over your shoulder. "I know. I also know you love looking at my ass."

He practically purrs, hands sliding lower. "I do love your ass."

You press back into his hands, one flesh, the other cybernetic. He'd ditched the scomp a few months ago now that he's retired to a boring civilian life. 

"We don't have a lot of time before they get here." You say, straightening up to try and slip out from where he has you pinned to the counter.

He presses against you harder, hands moving to trap you between him and the counter. "They can wait for dinner." He breathes into your ear, pressing his half-hard cock against your ass. "I want dessert first."

You bite your lip, letting out a strangled moan as he grinds against you. "At least turn the burner off." You breathe. 

Echo presses a kiss to your neck before he pulls away, reaching back to shut off the stove. You turn in his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck as he turns back to you. 

He pins you against the counter once more, molding his lips against yours as his hands trail back down your sides. You deepen the kiss, pulling him even closer. You can feel him, fully hard against your stomach now. 

His hands grip your waist, easily lifting you onto the counter. One of your hands slides up to tangle in the curls that have regrown over the last few months. He groans quietly against your lips, hands parting your thighs for him. 

He steps between your legs, your skirt riding up around your waist, revealing your panties underneath. His fingers rub the damp fabric, teasing you before he tugs them aside, meeting your flesh. 

You moan into his mouth, pressing your hips into his hand as he circles your clit. You're already worked up just from kissing him, the familiar heat igniting under your skin from his touch. 

"Kriff." You breathe against his lips, grinding against his hand. "Make me feel so good."

He hums contently against your lips. "Good. You deserve to feel good." 

You slip a hand down his front, palming him through his pants. "I'd feel better with you inside me, though.".

He grins, pressing one more steamy kiss against your lips. "Yes, ma'am."

You shriek as he tugs you right to the edge of the counter, holding you steady with one hand while the other pulls his cock from his pants. 

You wrap your arms back around his neck as he presses close between your legs, teasing your slit with the head of his cock. You moan quietly, playing with the ends of his hair as he slowly presses into you. 

He groans, pressing his face into your neck as he slides into your warm passage, your body wet and ready for him. 

It never gets old, the feeling being so connected to him invokes. Your very soul seems to hum with pleasure from being so close, so connected. You wrap your legs around him, holding him as close as you can as he settles inside you. 

He presses a soft kiss to your lips as you sit in the moment for just a second, savoring the feeling before he begins moving. His thrusts are slow yet deliberate. They reach deep into you, the tip of his cock brushing that spot inside you over and over. 

You won't last long, you know it as your legs begin to tremble around him. You moan against his lips, hands fisting his shirt as he picks up the pace just a little. 

You whine as you cum around him, milking his own orgasm from his body. He moans into your neck, holding you tightly as he spills into you. 

You stay still, just breathing and feeling each other for a few moments. Your hands gently massage his neck and his shoulders, easing the ache you know he feels from his cybernetics sometimes. 

He presses gentle kisses to your neck, not enough to leave marks but still enough to pull quiet sounds from your lips.  

He kisses a trail up your jaw to your lips, both of you pausing at the knock on the door. 

"Hunter's gonna know." You murmur against his lips. 

"He probably already does." Echo says, kissing you once more. "Probably heard us halfway down the street."

Your cheeks warm as he pulls away from you, fixing his clothes before helping you look presentable as well. You turn on the stove once more before pulling out the disinfectant spray. 

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[jetii]

Event Horizon

Chapter Seven: Forward (Part 2)

Chapter WC: 5,095

Chapter Tags/Warnings: None

A/N: no thoughts just Rex 💙

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“I almost forgot.” Anakin says your name and gestures to the clone. “This is Captain—“

The name is out of your mouth before you even register saying it, slipping past your lips with a certainty, an assurance, that comes from somewhere deep inside you.

“Rex.”

The word hangs in the air, heavy and loaded with meaning. You stare at him, wide-eyed, and Rex stares back, his expression mirroring yours. There's a pause, and the entire world seems to stop. No one moves, no one breathes.

Rex's lips part, his eyebrows rising. He shakes his head, blinking as if to clear the surprise. His hand tightens around the edge of his helmet, and you can see his pulse jumping in his throat.

Anakin's brow furrows. "Yeah, Rex."

Ahsoka's gaze darts between the two of you, her head tilting, and you can see the gears turning behind her eyes. Obi-Wan looks equally perplexed, his lips pressed together in a thin line.

You know what they're thinking, and you know you owe them an explanation, but you're too stunned yourself to speak. Instead, you stand, frozen, your eyes locked with Rex, your mouth open in shock.

"Do you two know each other?" Ahsoka asks, her voice cautious.

"Uh," you begin, trying to find the words.

"We've met," Rex answers, his tone steady. He's recovered faster than you, his surprise fading as he schools his features into a mask of calm professionalism, though there's a hint of a smile, a softening around the eyes, that tells you he's not unaffected. He nods at you. "Good to see you again, General.”

You close your mouth, and you can't help the smile that spreads across your own face, the emotion welling up inside you. The words are simple, polite, and yet, they fill you with warmth, a happiness that radiates through your entire body.

At your side, Obi-Wan starts, his eyebrows shooting up, and his eyes dart to your face. You can't bring yourself to look away from Rex, the intensity of his gaze holding you captive, but you can feel the weight of his surprise. You know he can feel the intensity of your emotions, and you also know that he has no idea what's going on.

But you're not sure you do either.

All you know, all you can focus on, is that somehow, impossibly, the man in front of you is the one, the very same clone who saved your life.

"Good to see you, too," you say, the words soft. Your eyes rove over him, taking in his face, his body, his armor. You never saw his face that day, but you remember the strength of his presence, the surety, the resolve. It's all there, staring back at you.

His hair is blond. It's different, but it suits him.

Rex nods, and the moment seems to stretch on forever. There's a warmth in his gaze, an openness, that's unexpected, and his expression is filled with something like awe. The look makes your heart beat a little faster, and you can't stop the blush that spreads across your cheeks.

Anakin clears his throat, and the two of you snap your heads in his direction.

"So, uh, how do you two know each other?" Anakin asks, his tone wary.

You take a breath and manage to regain your composure, though the grin remains. "He, um, he saved my life. On Geonosis. He dragged me back to the ship when I was injured."

The memory of Geonosis hasn't been far from your mind, the pain and the blood and the heat all burned into your consciousness, but the recollection is tempered by the knowledge that, had it not been for Rex, you wouldn't be here, standing in front of him. 

You'd been so close to losing everything, to losing yourself, and he'd managed to pull you back from the brink without even knowing you. The thought is sobering, and a rush of emotion falls over you, a feeling of profound gratitude and respect.

Rex rubs the back of his neck, his expression sheepish, and his eyes flit down to the ground. "It was nothing, sir. Any trooper would've done the same."

"That may be, but they didn't. You did," you insist. He looks up, and you hold his gaze, hoping he can see the sincerity in your eyes.

You don't think he could get any redder, but you're wrong. He blushes, the color spreading across his cheeks and ears, and he gives a short, awkward laugh.

You can't help the small smile that forms on your lips, and you glance at Obi-Wan, the corners of your mouth turning up even more. He's looking between the two of you, his eyebrows raised, and you know he can feel your affection for the clone, the fondness and admiration.

His eyes land on you, and his brow furrows, the question clear.

You shrug and give a small shake of your head, not quite able to answer. You can tell that he's remembering, replaying the events of that day in his mind, weighing the possibilities, and considering the implications. The two of you avoided talking about that day, and the most you’d ever told Obi-Wan is that a clone had fought by your side and helped you evacuate the surface when you were injured.

It wasn't a lie, per se, but it was far from the whole truth.

You'd wanted, needed, to keep some parts of that day for yourself, and the details of the rescue, how you'd very nearly lost control, had seemed too personal, too embarrassing, to share.

Now, though, those details seemed trivial. Your heart is beating faster, the joy coursing through you, and you're unable to contain the grin that spreads across your face, the corners of your lips lifting.

"I can't believe it," Obi-Wan murmurs, and his voice is filled with disbelief. "The odds..."

"Me either," you reply just as softly, your eyes on Rex.

Obi-Wan and Anakin exchange a look, their brows furrowed. There's an unspoken question in their eyes, a confusion that's mirrored by Ahsoka, but she doesn't say anything, her gaze moving from Rex, to you, and then back again.

Rex, for his part, is trying his best to affect stoicism, but his eyes keep straying back to you, and there's a tension in his body, a restlessness. You watch his eyes widen slightly when he realizes what he's doing, and his gaze snaps back to Anakin. You bite your cheek, suppressing the strange urge to laugh. 

The situation was bizarre, to say the least, but there was something amusing about the way Rex was acting, a combination of nervousness and bashfulness that was completely at odds with the confidence he displayed in combat. The coolness and efficiency with which he'd fought by your side seemed a distant memory, replaced by a boyish shyness that was, quite frankly, adorable.

"Then it seems I owe you a debt of gratitude, Captain," Obi-Wan begins, and his words are measured, careful. "For doing what I could not. You have my thanks."

"There's no need for that, General," Rex responds, his voice gruff. He glances down at you, his eyes locking with yours, and his lips form a tight line, as if he's holding something back. "Anyone else would've done the same."

Ah, he was modest, too.

Your smile widens, and Rex's eyes flit away, his cheeks reddening further.

Anakin snorts, and Ahsoka rolls her eyes, the expression fond. She leans in and whispers something to Anakin, and he coughs to hide a laugh. Rex glares at them with all the fury a captain can muster, and they respond with matching, sly grins, which only seems to make him more irritated.

"If you say so, Rex," Anakin says, a teasing note in his voice. He looks over at Obi-Wan, and the two of them share a conspiratorial glance. "Seems like the Force has a sense of humor."

"It appears so," Obi-Wan responds, his eyes shining. "Quite the coincidence, isn't it?"

You can't help but roll your eyes, and Rex lets out a short, exasperated sigh. You know what they're doing, the gentle prodding, the leading questions, the implications, and you have half a mind to scold them.

"It certainly is," you reply dryly. Your nonplussed expression is betrayed, however, by the twinkle in your eye, and the smirk playing across your lips. “I guess I'll be seeing a lot more of you, Rex."

Rex's eyebrows raise, and he clears his throat. "Yes, it appears that way, sir."

Your smile widens. "Well, I look forward to working with you."

"Same here," he replies, his voice growing firmer. The hint of a smile creeps back onto his face, and the warmth returns, filling his gaze.

There's a strange feeling, an unexpected excitement, that spreads through your chest at his words, and you find yourself returning the smile with enthusiasm. There's a moment, a brief second, where the two of you simply look at each other, your eyes locking, and the sensation is both familiar and new, an odd mixture of comfort and uncertainty.

Then, Anakin steps between you, and the moment is broken.

"As touching as this is, we really should be going. Felucia won't liberate itself," he says. He places a hand on Ahsoka's shoulder and gently pushes her toward the shuttle. "C'mon, Snips."

"Right," Obi-Wan says as he turns, and he motions for you to follow. "We shall see you on the ground."

Rex nods, and you take a few steps before glancing over your shoulder. You find him looking back at you, his expression thoughtful, his brows slightly furrowed, and you pause.

"I'll be right there," you say to Obi-Wan, waving a hand in front of you and giving him a small, apologetic smile. "I'd like a minute, if that's alright."

He raises an eyebrow, and his gaze moves from Rex, to you, and then back again. A slow, knowing grin forms on his face, and he inclines his head towards you. "Of course, my dear. Don't be too long."

He gives your shoulder a pat, and then he moves away, waving down Commander Cody. You wait until he's a safe distance away, and then you turn back to Rex, taking a few steps towards him.

He hesitates for a moment, his hand resting on his holstered blaster, as if debating whether or not to speak. Finally, he seems to come to a decision, and he steps forward, his hands clasped behind his back, his posture rigid.

"Sir, it's...good to see you again," he says, his voice formal, almost stilted, his eyes locked on a point over your shoulder. "And, uh, it's nice to put a name to a face."

"Agreed. It’s nice to put a face to the name,” you joke, trying, and failing, to break the tension. The words sound awkward, and you internally wince at the delivery. You weren't exactly the best at these types of conversations, and, as evidenced by the way he was holding himself like a statue, neither was Rex.

After a beat, a smile quirks his lips, and he gives a short laugh. Some of the tension seems to ease from his shoulders, and his expression softens, a more natural, easy smile forming on his lips. "It’s not exactly a unique face, sir, but I appreciate the sentiment."

You let out a surprised, but genuine laugh. You hadn't expected him to be so candid, or witty, and it was a welcome change. His eyes move to yours, and the grin widens, the warmth returning, and your laughter grows.

"No, I suppose it's not," you concede playfully, and you shrug a shoulder. “Still, I like it. It suits you."

"I, uh, thank you, sir," he manages, and his cheeks flush a little, his eyes dipping to the ground. You can't help but smile at the sight, at his sudden shyness. A familiar instinct rises in you, the one to push, to prod, to tease, and you struggle to ignore it, biting your cheek to stop yourself.

It would be all too easy, but it was also wrong, especially since you barely knew him. You didn't want him to feel uncomfortable, or obligated to entertain your antics. He'd risked his life for yours, and the last thing you wanted to do was make him regret it.

You clear your throat, and your eyes drift over his shoulder. Obi-Wan and Cody stand a respectable distance away, but the two men are clearly watching, their gazes focused on you, and you feel your own cheeks start to heat.

You'd hoped for some privacy, but it would appear that it wasn't meant to be.

"I didn’t realize you were a Captain now,” you say, shifting the subject to a safer topic.

"I am, sir," Rex replies, and his shoulders square, a bit of pride creeping into his voice. "I started my training after Geonosis, and I was promoted to Captain shortly after the start of the war."

"Impressive, Captain. That's quite the accomplishment," you say. You can’t help but feel proud, the achievement not lost on you. To have risen so quickly through the ranks, to have earned the respect and admiration of his fellow soldiers, was no easy feat, and you couldn’t deny that you were impressed.

"I always wondered what happened to you,” you continue after he nods his thanks. You meet his gaze, and there's an uncertainty, a hesitation, in your voice. You take a breath, steeling yourself, and push the words past your lips. "I thought... well, I wasn't sure if you made it out alive."

The admission is raw, honest, and the words come out before you can stop them. You regret them almost instantly, but you don’t have time to take them back, to apologize.

His expression changes, and his brows furrow, a mixture of surprise and curiosity crossing his face. “I didn’t think you would remember me, sir, if I'm being honest. But, if it's any consolation, I wondered the same thing."

His gaze is soft, his eyes searching, and you feel a small stab of guilt. You had, of course, remembered him, had thought about him and his bravery and his sacrifice for the last six months, but he hadn’t known that.

“How could I forget?” You give him a small, apologetic smile, and you hope he can read the sincerity in it. "I would have died on that planet if it wasn't for you."

Rex opens his mouth, and you suspect he’s about to disagree, or protest, or something, so you wave him off. "And don't say anyone would have done the same."

He snaps his mouth shut, and a frown pulls at the corners of his lips. Then he shakes his head and smiles, his eyes crinkling. "Alright, I won't."

"Good," you chuckle. "Because you'd be wrong."

"So, you've said," he replies, and his grin widens, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. “What I was going to say was that you gave me a hell of a fight over it. You were very insistent, as I recall."

"I suppose I was,” you admit with a sheepish laugh. "I was reckless."

Rex shakes his head, and his eyes never leave yours. "Don't be so hard on yourself, sir. You did what you had to do, and it was brave. It's an honor to serve with someone like you."

The forcefulness, the sincerity of his tone catches you off guard, and your eyes widen. You weren't expecting such a frank, direct answer, and it takes you a moment to find the words to respond.

"I don’t know about that," you finally manage, and you smile, your heart warmed by his praise. “But, thank you.”

He nods, and a small smile plays on his lips, his eyes soft. There's an odd feeling, a flutter in your chest, that accompanies the look. The way he's watching you, with a mixture of admiration and respect, is flattering, but it also makes you feel uncomfortable. You were used to being looked at, and judged, and measured, but this was different. This was... something else.

It's not an unpleasant feeling, not by any means, but it is unsettling.

You clear your throat and try to think of a response, something clever or funny to ease the tension, but before you can, Rex speaks.

"Well, I'd better be going," he says slowly. His eyes flicker over your shoulder, and his smile falters. You follow his gaze, and you see Obi-Wan waiting, his posture impatient, the frown on his face evident even from this distance. "Looks like General Kenobi is waiting for you."

You roll your eyes, the annoyance clear. "Yes, I can see that."

You’d been ignoring the subtle, increasingly impatient nudges over the bond, but Obi-Wan was persistent, and you knew that if you didn’t end the conversation soon, he'd come over and drag you away.

Rex's eyebrows lift, and the small, amused grin returns. "Good luck, sir.”

"You, too, Captain," you reply, the words accompanied by an exaggerated sigh.

The two of you share a smile, and then he turns and strides back towards the transport. You watch him go, and there's a strange feeling, a tightness, that constricts your chest. It's not until he disappears from sight, the doors sliding closed behind him, that you realize you'd been holding, hoping, that he would look back.

You shake your head, the movement sharp, and you start walking towards the shuttle, trying to shake off the odd sensation.

You have bigger problems, after all, and you needed to focus.

Obi-Wan is still speaking to Commander Cody as you approach, their heads bowed together, their voices low. They stop when they notice you, and the two of them share a conspiratorial glance.

"All set?" Obi-Wan asks, his tone light.

"Yes," you reply, the word clipped, and your eyes narrow. “I was just thanking Captain Rex.”

He gives you a smile, his expression innocent, but you can tell by the way his lips twitch, and his eyes crinkle, that he's struggling not to laugh. 

“Yes, you did sound rather grateful,” he muses, and his eyes dart over your shoulder, as if searching for something. You turn and look, but Rex is nowhere to be found. You hadn't expected him to stick around, and yet, part of you is disappointed.

When you turn back and see the sly, knowing look Obi-Wan is giving you, however, your annoyance returns in full force.

"What's that supposed to mean?" you demand, your eyes narrowing.

"Nothing," he says innocently.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi, you had better not be insinuating what I think you're insinuating."

He holds up his hands in surrender. "I would never."

"Uh-huh," you mutter. "Right."

You give him one last glare, and your shoulder brushes harder than necessary against his as you stride up the ramp of the shuttle, making him stumble.

"Now, now, don't be like that," he calls out behind you, the words teasing, and you can't help but roll your eyes.

When you turn, he's smiling, his eyes dancing with mirth, and despite yourself, the corner of your lips twitch upwards. You step aside to let him pass, and he pauses, giving your shoulder a light squeeze.

"I’m just impressed, is all,” he says as he walks by, his voice soft. "I believe this is a new record for you."

Your smile fades, the confusion setting in, and your brow furrows. You hurry to catch up to him, weaving your way through the troopers packed into the shuttle, their white armor reflecting the harsh light of the overhead lamps, and you come to a halt beside him.

"What are you talking about?" you ask, your tone wary.

Obi-Wan glances over at you, the look knowing, his smile smug. "It's been mere minutes since you've stepped foot outside the Temple, and already, you have a new admirer."

You can't help but snort, loud and derisive. "What? Don't be ridiculous. He's not my admirer."

"Of course not," Obi-Wan agrees, but the amusement is clear in his voice, and you can hear the silent laughter, the teasing. “Just like that Prince on Hynestia Prime wasn’t your admirer, or that Mikkian priestess wasn’t your admirer. Or the Queen of—well, you get the point."

"I'm not talking to you anymore," you hiss, and you turn to seek out an open seat, intent on ignoring him for the rest of the ride.

"Oh, don't be like that, darling," Obi-Wan continues, the words full of mirth. He follows behind you, his strides long and purposeful. "I'm simply stating the facts."

You reach the nearest empty bench and take a seat, folding your arms over your chest, and fixing Obi-Wan with the best scowl you can manage. Ever immune to your glare, Obi-Wan plops down beside you, his body bouncing lightly on the bench, and his eyes twinkle.

"If it makes you feel any better, he's not the only one," Obi-Wan continues, unfazed by your outburst, and his knee knocks against yours.

"Really," you deadpan, your voice flat.

"I'm afraid so," he replies gravely. He leans back and crosses his arms over his chest, his posture relaxed. "You've quite a fan club amongst the men. Isn’t that right, Cody?”

Cody, who’s taken up a spot across from you, looks between the two of you, his mouth pressed into a thin line. His face is a mask of professionalism, but the hint of amusement is evident in his eyes, the brown depths sparkling. Still, he manages to remain neutral, his voice steady, when he speaks.

"Sir, with all due respect, I'd rather not get involved in...whatever this is," he says, gesturing between the two of you.

"See?" you say, looking at Obi-Wan triumphantly.

“Although, if I were to get involved," Cody begins, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards, "I wouldn't necessarily call it a fan club, sir. More of an admiration for your skill as a Jedi and a General."

You blink, a bit taken aback by the unexpected compliment, and your expression falls. The ship falls silent, and you can see the other men around you trying to make themselves look busy, their gazes focused intently on the floor or their datapads.

You feel the flush rise to your cheeks, the embarrassment creeping up your neck, and you turn away, the instinctive desire to hide your emotions rising to the surface.

"Is that so?" you mumble, your tone subdued.

"Of course, sir," Cody confirms, his voice gentle, as if sensing your unease. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and he inclines his head toward you. "And I think I speak for all of us when I say, it's good to have you back."

You swallow hard, and a lump forms in your throat. You don't know how to respond, or what to say, and so you just nod, your gaze dropping to the floor.

"Well, that's very kind," you reply, your voice strained.

Obi-Wan gives you a small, encouraging nudge over the bond, and when you look at him, the expression on his face is affectionate, sympathetic.

You give him a half-smile, and you take a deep breath, inhaling through your nose and letting it out slowly. The embarrassment, the guilt, is still there, a lingering ache in your chest, but Cody's words help ease it somewhat, and you're able to push the feeling back, to bury it in the recesses of your mind.

You glance around the shuttle and notice that many of the troopers are watching, their faces curious, expectant. A few offer you a nod, or a wave, or a thumbs up, and, one by one, you return their smiles, your heart swelling with gratitude and affection.

As the ship takes off, Cody excuses himself and heads toward the cockpit, leaving the two of you alone. You stare down at the floor, your fingers twisting in your lap, and you feel Obi-Wan's eyes on you. You look up, and he gives you a wink.

"Stop," you hiss, and he laughs, the sound low and rich.

"I'm not doing anything.”

"Yes, you are," you insist, and you poke his arm. "You're being annoying."

"I'm being encouraging," he corrects. His hand squeezes your knee gently before it retreats back into his own lap. “I am only trying to prove to you that, despite what you might think, there are plenty of people who admire and respect you, not just for your skill in combat, but for who you are as a person." 

You scoff, but the words have their desired effect, and some of the tightness in your chest loosens, the tension in your shoulders lessening. "Sure, okay."

Obi-Wan lets out a breath, his frustration evident. "Don't do that."

Your brow furrows, and you frown. "Do what?"

"You know what," he says, and he raises an eyebrow. When you don't respond, he shakes his head. "You have a tendency to dismiss such feelings, but I would urge you to pay them closer attention."

Your expression darkens, and the irritation creeps back in, a dull ache forming behind your eyes. You hate it when Obi-Wan got like this, when his tone turned patronizing, his words full of some deeper, unspoken meaning, some lesson he was trying to impart on you. You hate the fact that he can see right through you, and you hate that he always seems to be able to get under your skin, and you hate how, even when you don't want to, you find yourself listening.

You know he means well, but his words rankle, especially in light of recent events, and your jaw clenches.

"I'll keep that in mind, Master," you bite out, your voice tight.

Obi-Wan sighs, and his gaze moves to the window, watching the clouds roll by, the colors blurring together as the ship picks up speed. You stare at the back of his head, your hands curled into fists, the anger building in your chest, and you're about to open your mouth, to tell him where he can shove his lessons, when he speaks.

"I mean it," he mutters, his tone quiet, almost regretful. "You've become so cynical, so closed off, that you fail to see how much people care about you. It's...disappointing, and I can't help but think that maybe I'm to blame."

The anger dissipates, and a wave of guilt replaces it.

"Obi-Wan—"

"No," he cuts in, and he turns to face you, his eyes locking with yours. "It's true, and you know it."

The look in his eyes, the guilt, the sadness, is almost too much for you to bear, and your resolve crumbles, the fight leaving your body. You sigh, and you reach over, taking his hand in yours, your fingers intertwining.

"Obi-Wan, this isn't on you," you say, and your thumb strokes the back of his hand, the movement slow and soothing. "None of this is your fault."

His gaze drops, and he takes a deep breath, his fingers squeezing yours. He swallows hard, and his eyes flutter shut. Then, he exhales, the sound shaky, and he leans back, his eyes opening.

"Just promise me one thing," he murmurs, and he searches your face, his eyes pleading.

"What?"

"Promise me that you'll try," he says, his voice earnest, and his grip on your hand tightens as if afraid you'll pull away. "You are so much more than the mistakes you've made, the things you've done, or the things that have been done to you, and you deserve to be happy."

Obi-Wan's words cut to the core, and a part of you wants to recoil, to snatch your hand back and storm off. Another part, however, the more reasonable part, the part that's been listening, wants to stay. The words are so familiar, so similar to something you'd heard from Master Yaddle a lifetime ago, and you can't help but feel moved.

You look at him, really look at him, and you can see the genuine concern, the love, in his eyes, and you can feel it through the bond. Your eyes prick, and you squeeze them shut, willing the tears not to fall.

"I'm going to be fine," you whisper, and you lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder. "We're going to be fine, I promise."

Obi-Wan leans his head against yours as his thumb strokes the back of your hand, the movement gentle and comforting, and the tension slowly seeps from his body. For a time, neither of you speak, content to sit in silence and watch the world fly by.

Then, after a few minutes, he breaks the silence.

"Although you can't deny that you do seem to attract admirers," he says, his tone playful, and his eyes sparkle. "Which is frankly rather impressive, given that your personality leaves much to be desired."

You laugh, and you sit up, rolling your eyes.

"And here I thought you were giving me a heartfelt speech," you tease, and you give his hand a final squeeze before withdrawing, your fingers slipping from his. "Turns out, it was a thinly veiled insult."

Obi-Wan chuckles, and he leans back, a small smile playing on his lips. "Well, it wouldn't be very Jedi-like of me if I didn't include at least some self-righteous moralizing."

"Of course, how could I forget?" you say with a shake of your head. "You're nothing if not predictable."

He shrugs, his expression smug. "What can I say? It's part of my charm."

"Charm, is that what we're calling it now?"

"Absolutely."

You roll your eyes again, and you let out a huff of exasperation, but the amusement is clear on your face. "I can't believe I missed this."

"Yes, well, I can't believe I missed your sunny disposition," Obi-Wan responds, and he flashes you a crooked grin. "It's been so dreary around here without your interminable optimism and boundless energy."

"Don't forget my sparkling wit," you add as you elbow him.

"I could never."

The two of you continue to bicker, your banter moving easily between the two of you. It's almost like no time has passed, and the comfort and the ease is soothing, familiar. It feels right, the two of you back together again, and you can't help but feel hopeful, the excitement building. You have a lot to live up to, a lot to prove, but it's nice to have friends by your side.

For the first time in a long while, the weight of the galaxy feels a little lighter, the burden a little easier to bear.

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[moonstrider9904]

Gardens of Yesteryear

This fic is for the Clone Troopers and their Flowers event! @arctrooper69 this goes out to you!

Pairing: Howzer x Female Reader

Synopsis: on a very important day for you and Howzer, you’re unable to find the one thing you need to make the evening flawless. Will that stop you?

Tags/warnings: SFW. No real warnings, just fluff. Established relationship, brief mentions of alcohol.

Word count: 2.6k

Crossposted to AO3

As you bumped into one of the many flower-filled buckets for the third time that visit, you scolded yourself for leaving it to the last minute. There you were, in the fifth flower shop of the morning, and you’d had no luck finding those flowers. The day before, you’d thought your reasons to wait until the actual day were decent. You didn’t want them going bad, you didn’t want the petals crumbling or the stems going stale. You wanted all the best for him, for your special day.

You couldn’t believe it had already been three years.

The memory of your beloved coming into your life prompted you into taking a deep breath in the middle of the flower shop amidst all the people happily buying their bouquets of sunflowers or lilies, all flowers that were easy to find and renowned by everyone. It had been a rainy summer, that one, and it was the summer your life changed when you put it into perspective. The decisions you made, the people you met… you remember your man being the sensation. Everyone was talking about him and you’d heard his name mentioned and repeated days before you even got the chance to meet him, and surely enough, you also fell for Howzer’s charms when you first laid eyes on him. It was hard for you to fathom your luck—the sheer way in which the universe had smiled at you, told you yes, you may have this man to love and to hold.

A smile appeared on your face when the memory of when he’d asked you to be his came into your mind. The clouds had cleared on that day and you felt a warm sunshine on your skin. The breeze that day carried the smell of grass and flowers and the noise of children laughing and families going about. Donning a sundress and a cute little hat with sandals that matched it, you’d met Howzer underneath an oak tree whose green leaves looked radiant in the sunlight, and he’d arrived with a stunning bouquet of blue freesias. The way the blue shade matched the colors of his armor from his days as a soldier didn’t escape you, and that was when he’d asked you if you wanted to make your relationship formal. You’d never been quicker to say yes to anything, and those flowers remained on a vase at the center of your home for longer than any other bouquet had in your entire life.

Your mother’s words came to mind, of that one time she told you, “When someone’s flowers last that long, it means their feelings for you are really strong.”

But your heart also ached at the memory of how beautiful Howzer’s gesture was. Now that you were hitting the three year mark, you wanted to replicate the feeling in him, let him know that you’d also be willing to go over the top for him any time. And while most of your three-year-anniversary date had already been planned out, this part remained a secret.

In theory, since your flower endeavor was a secret, there would be no real consequence to you not going through with it. But you were unwilling to let it slide.

Then, as the florist came back around the counter from the back of the shop, you took a deep breath, feeling your pulse rise as you anticipated all the things she could possibly say to you.

“I have good news and bad news,” the florist said.

“Oh, maker,” your words shook from nerves as you exhaled your tension, but your tone remained kind. “Start with the bad news, please.”

“Well, I have two pieces of bad news,” the florist continued. “I have no blue freesias, and I have no freesia arrangements already made.”

You nodded. “Okay… what about the good news?”

“I have freesias in just about any other color. If you’re willing to work with that, just tell me what other colors you want and I’ll have an arrangement ready for you in thirty minutes tops,” she smiled at you.

Your heart sank, and the florist took notice.

“I don’t mean to make it worse,” the florist said, “but if you’d come around one hour earlier, I think you still would’ve found some blue ones.”

You chuckled, your laughter dipped in slight disappointment. “Yeah… an hour ago I was at a different flower shop, and they told me the same.”

The florist gave you a sympathetic smile. “I can work wonders, you know. Why don’t you let me mix some white, purple, and pink freesias and sprinkle in some golden motifs?”

A thought suddenly perched itself on your mind as you remembered the warm glow of the evening when your relationship with Howzer started. Everything had seemed so golden around you, and after all this time, that was one of the first things that you thought of when the memory came. The next thing you always seemed to think of was how beautiful the teal of Howzer’s armor looked whenever the ambience around him was so warm. The image was vivid in your mind, and your heart raced with joy as you thought of your handsome Howzer, in that perfect lighting, only belonging to you.

“You know what?” You smiled at the florist. “Do you have any yellow and hot pink freesias?”

“You bet,” she replied.

“Okay… do you think you could mix all the colors, but give the warm tones priority? And maybe we could keep the golden motifs.”

The florist nodded at you. “Give me a half hour and I’ll surprise you.”

A half hour sounded wondrous. In that time, you could go to the bakery next door to get some of the last things you needed before your anniversary date.

“You’re a hero,” you told the florist. “I’ll be back!”

*

The sun had started to go down on the sky, and the light it cast on the outside took that beautiful shade of gold you so loved. Despite the flowers not going according to your plan, the bouquet the florist got for you was still gorgeous, and if anything, it complimented Howzer’s signature colors. You had the whole thing planned out, figuring you could trust the kind florist to help you with one last endeavor to give the evening one more level of charm. You never wanted to be predictable when it came to Howzer, especially not when it came to a day as important as that one.

You were approaching the spot Howzer had chosen for your date. He had the tendency to not be predictable when it came to you either, and though it would have been sweet to have your date where it all began, Howzer chose a place that was new to you. At a park in a quieter side of the town, where there was grass, benches, tall trees, and even a fountain, and you felt the romance in the air from the moment you arrived.

You marched yourself across the park, feeling occasional blades of grass brushing against the skin exposed on your sandaled feet, and the gentle wind flowed in harmony with the skirt of your white sundress. You made your way towards the spot of the park Howzer had told you to meet him beforehand, and when you were at a short distance, you spotted him talking with two of his brothers. He saw you coming, as you could tell by the way his gorgeous brown eyes landed briefly on you only for him to gesture hurriedly at his brothers to leave, causing you to giggle softly at him. Howzer was a gentleman, but you loved it whenever your charm brought out his more clumsy side.

As you walked up to him, you took in every detail of Howzer. Though you weren’t at the same oak tree, the warm light of the evening matched the memory so well it might as well have belonged to you and Howzer already. As for your boyfriend, Howzer wore light brown pants and shoes that were a slightly darker shade, almost approaching a milk-chocolate color. His white shirt seemed to be made of a light, breathable fabric, ideal for days with such high temperatures and warm winds blowing, and the white shirt had thin cross-stitch patterns embroidered along the length of his chest in teal thread, his signature color.

A large grin plastered itself on your face as you took those last steps between Howzer and yourself, and your free hand went up to his shoulders as you leaned in and perked yourself up on your toes to greet him with a light kiss on his cheek.

“Hi, love,” you chimed.

“Hi,” Howzer smiled at you, his gaze traveling over your silhouette. “Wow, you are… you are stunning.”

You giggled and gave a little twirl on the spot. “Thanks.”

You then paused as you watched him standing there, his hands hidden behind his back as he smiled a tad nervously at you. You took that moment to take in the rest of the details around you: the red and white blanket placed on the grass, a large plate with grapes, hams, and cheeses, a wooden tray with short legs to safely hold a bottle of rosé wine and two slender cups, and series of warm fairy lights already powered on for them to grow progressively as the sun set. You smiled at the scene and set your basket of bread down on the blanket, your chest swelling with joy as you looked over at Howzer again, ready to tell him how beautiful the set up was.

But Howzer remained with his same uptight posture, hands insistently behind his back.

You giggled again. “Well? Aren’t you gonna kiss me?”

“U-Uh, right,” Howzer stammered, revealing one of his hands from behind his back. “Suppose I could just do this.”

“Mmm yeah, you could,” you chirped as Howzer bent forward and kissed your cheek sweetly. Smiling brightly, you turned your face to face him directly, and Howzer leaned in again to press his lips to yours.

You sighed dreamily, sinking into the familiarity and warmth of his lips, letting your fingertips travel up to brush the skin on the sides of his face. You’d memorized all of him, from the texture of the scar on his cheek to the lines of his face, the way he tasted and how he tilted his head first to the left and then to the right when he locked lips with you. You grinned into the kiss, pressing your lips harder to his before pulling away with a tiny smile.

“Happy anniversary, dear,” you whispered.

“Happy anniversary,” Howzer reciprocated with a serene smile.

“So,” you raised a brow at him. “Wanna tell me what you have back there?”

The clumsiness returned momentarily to Howzer as he stammered on his words. “Oh, r-right. Um…”

Howzer took a deep breath, returning to his regal, captain-like demeanor. He straightened his back and looked at you with confidence and affection, two traits that would have you swooning over him for days.

“I wanted to have a balance today, you know?” Howzer began. “I do want to commemorate this day three years ago under that oak tree when you said yes to me, but it’s been three years, and as much as I hold the past very close, I also want to acknowledge the fact that you and I, well… we have a future. We have a path to move forward in, and… hence the new place. But… well, maybe putting it that way, it’s not such a tragedy.”

You tilted your head, confused by his last sentence.

Howzer chuckled. “To have a piece of the day you and I became a couple, I wanted to get you the same blue freesias I got you back then.”

He slowly revealed what he was hiding behind him, and you stared at the bouquet of bright yellow, red, magenta, and light pink freesia flowers. The bouquet was balanced out with smaller white flowers that resembled chamomile, and it was wrapped in cellophane on the outer layer and thin bright pink paper on the inside, tied together with a neat teal bow. Howzer held the bouquet out to you, smiling charmingly at you, and for a moment, he resembled a prince declaring his love to you for the first time all over again.

You chuckled at him, dazed. “Let me guess. All the flower shops were out of the blue freesia flowers.”

“It’s uncanny how I was unable to find any today. It’s like they plotted to ridicule me,” Howzer agreed, but now he raised a brow at you. “How did you know?”

You giggled, your cheeks flushing with heat. With the best of timings, you spotted the florist walking up behind Howzer, and your gaze regrouped with that of your lover.

“Well, you’re not the only one who remembers vivid blue flowers that day,” you said, slowly walking up to him and kissing his cheek, letting your voice lower into a whisper as you told him, “close your eyes.”

Happily, Howzer obeyed. You skipped past him and went over to the florist, mouthing the words “Thank you” as you took the bouquet from her and took your position in front of Howzer again. You held the bouquet in front of your chest and smiled brightly at Howzer, your eyes sparkling.

“I know about the blue flowers because I wanted to get them for you too,” you said.

Howzer opened his eyes and felt his chest swelling with love at the sight of you holding the bouquet. You’d gotten the flowers in the same colors he had, and the golden motifs didn’t escape him.

“Darling,” Howzer sighed as he took the flowers from you. He chuckled softly, looking you in the eyes. “Well, great minds do think alike.”

“I guess they do,” you beamed.

Howzer set your bouquet down on the blanket next to the one he’d gotten for you. He rested them on your basket of bread and smiled at the way both complement one another, not unlike you did to him. Howzer then took your hands in his and looked you in the eyes, gazing into you with all the tender care he held for you.

“I love you,” he spoke softly.

Your entire chest fluttered, and your eyes glimmered up at Howzer as you blessed him with the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen.

“I love you too,” you said before leaning in and letting him kiss you.

As you both pulled apart from the kiss, the gleam in your eyes turned excited.

“Now, can I please start eating that cheese?” You proposed.

Howzer laughed. “Help yourself. I’ll pour the wine and get the crackers.”

“No wine, no crackers, no bread,” your hungry side got the better of you. “Only cheese.”

Howzer kissed your cheek, pressing himself firmly into you and smiling into your skin with how much he adored you. You then took a seat on the blanket and grabbed a cube of rich, yellow cheese, plopping it into your mouth. As you savored it, you leaned your head back, taking a deep breath as you enjoyed the peace, the breeze, the whole evening. Hearing as Howzer opened the bottle of wine and poured the two cups, you reached for a grape and smiled, knowing you were in the middle of perfection.

Here’s to more years, you thought as Howzer took a seat next to you, handing you your cup of wine.

You clinked your glasses together, and then you leaned your head on his shoulder, smiling as you gazed into the sunset and enjoyed every second of your time with the man who made your days bright and your years sweet as the scent of freesias.

Thanks so much for reading! If you like this fic, please consider reblogging to support me!

Dividers by saradika-graphics

[st4rsnf1cs]

My Family is Elsewhere

Pairings: Rex x Mando fem! Reader

Summary: you had saved Rex from a crashed republic ship and got him help. After that you couldn't stay away and neither could he. But you always knew he would come back home to you.

Ganre: fuckin- fluff ig idk JEBDJDB

Word count: 1,928

Warnings: fluff, prego reader, reader has kids too, mentions of bad batch characters

“My Family Is Elsewhere”

-

Rex would never abandon his brothers, or his friends in the republic. They had depended on him for so long and he also depended on him. But there was one person that he had to spare his heart for.

All his love and admiration belonged to you, his Riduur, wife, and lover.

You had met during the first few conflicts of Mandalore, your clan was one that split off from the rest but also resented the Death Watch and their actions. You often found yourself in the company of Duchess Satine, and put violence last which she appreciated.

Your clan was a bridge between the historic culture, and the neutrality of Mandalore that was kept now. You didn’t always agree with Satine, but you had to admire her.

You met Rex when separatists shot down his ship near your city on the other end of Mandalore. It wasn’t your city, more so your father’s who was the chief of your Clan… you remembered that day vividly.

-

“Jamie, Krys, grab your speeders and follow me, we will go inspect the crash for survivors. Keep your whistling birds at the ready in case they are hostiles.” You ordered, revving the speeder you were on before riding off in the direction of the crash, your fellow clan members following behind you.

Your silver and blue beskar armor shined brightly underneath the heat of the Mandalorian sun as you traversed across the desert. In Mandalorian history this planet used to be lush and covered in ocean and jungles, with mountain ranges. Now it was flat, with domed cities.

Soon you skidded your speeder to a stop, slowly getting off as you held one blaster in your hands, your other arm raised with your whistling birds primed and ready. Your fellow mandalorians soon stopped and joined you, and you began searching the wreckage.

“Split up, meet back outside if you don’t find anything.” You ordered, and went straight while Jamie went right and Kry’s went left.

You could tell this was a republic ship with the way you started seeing dead clones litter the hallways, some crushed from the crash impact, others shot with blasters or killed by explosions. You sighed as you checked each man's pulse before moving on to the main hanger.

It was silent, minus the occasional beep that came from the center console. But as you looked around you noticed a clone, wearing armor with blue details… and Jaig eyes on his helmet. You raised an eyebrow, kneeling down beside him as you slowly removed the helmet, staring down at the clone before you checked his pulse. He was alive.

“Okay clone… lets get you somewhere safe.” You whispered, placing the helmet back onto his head before lifting him up into your arms and then onto your shoulder.

You carried him out with no difficulty, seeing a few more clones who were alive with Jamie and Krys, some were up and walking, other’s unconscious on the speeders. “Captain!” One of the clones shouted as you placed the clone on your speeder.

“He is alive, unconscious but his pulse is strong.” You explained to the trooper who was checking over the Clone Captain. “I’ll need to examine him closer. Is there a camp or something?” The clone asked you, and you snickered. “We will take you to our city and you will be cared for.” You started as you got on your speeder.

Jamie and Kryt helped the others and soon they were speeding back to the city, entering the small dome and immediately heading to the hospital that had been set up within.

This dome wasn't as technologically advanced as Mandalore’s capital, it more so looked like Mos Espa on Tatooine but it did have a bar, some restaurants, the Hospital and then homes to fill in the rest of the space. It was a regular small city, but most of the inhabitants chose to embrace their roots.

Once the clones were situated in their hospital rooms, your father, the Chief had arrived, and you bowed your head before removing your helmet, holding it against your side. “Father.” You greeted, leading him through the hospital and to the wing where the clones were staying.

“These are all the survivors. Should we contact the Dutchess?” You asked, however your father shook his head. “No, we need not get Duchess Satine involved. Once their leader wakes up, establish communications with the republic senate to arrange transport. I do not want them here long.” Your father stated, and you nodded, watching as he walked away.

You walked over to the Captain, staring down at him for a moment before you looked over at his helmet, and at the Jaig eyes.

“Warrior.” You whispered, pulling up a seat by the bed. “Many battles you have won, more will follow. Stay strong” You murmured, placing your helmet on the ground beside you.

-

Rex stirred, a groan falling from his lips as some pain shot up through his ribs before turning to dull throbs as he sat up, looking around the room, seeing other injured clones in hospital beds, being tended to by nat-borns and… Mandalorians?

He heard a cough next to him, and so he turned his head, eyes widening as he locked eyes with the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He glanced down, taking in the details of your armor. On your left chest piece you had a blue painted symbol of the Mythosaur, and on your right pauldron was your clan signet, forged in beskar.

He then noticed your helmet by your feet, seeing the symbol of the Jaig eyes above the visor, though they had a bit of a different design than his own. “Good afternoon, Captain.” you spoke up, and he tore his eyes away from your helmet, looking at you once again.

“R-rex, Captain Rex.” He greeted, looking down at his bandaged chest. “You had some internal bruising, but you’ll heal fine. Our Chief has asked me to help you establish communications with your Republic. So once your armor is brought over and once you're dressed, I will take you to the Manor, and we will contact the Republic.” You explained, grabbing your helmet off the ground, securing it on top of your head.

“Right… th-thank you.” Rex stammered, seeing you nod as you walked away.

It didn’t take long to get ahold of the Republic, obviously in a war so busy it would take a couple days to send a transport to pick up the clones, but in that time you had been spending lots of time with Rex and his boys despite your fathers warnings.

-

You had gotten so close to the Captain that when it was time for them to leave, you had almost begged for Rex to stay. But he had to leave and you understood. It of course didn’t stop you from keeping contact with him however, and when you got your hands on a ship you started traveling to Coruscant and started meeting up with Rex.

After a year you married the damn man. It was very secretive, only a select few people had attended, but of course Rex’s General found out not long after it had happened, and kept it a secret. But after Rex had become your Riddur you moved to Coruscant permanently, and took up bounty work for the Republic, not enlisting, but definitely helping where you could, hoping that what you did increased the odds of Rex coming home to you at night.

-

Tonight had been an especially hard night for you, you had gotten the message from some of your clan members that your father had passed, and since you were his only heir you had to return to Mandalore before that title was taken and what little freedom you had was taken by the death watch.

You had been crying when the door to your apartment opened, and Rex entered. He saw you slumped over, helmet on the coffee table with your armor on, which confused him. “Mesh’la?” Rex called out, and you spun to face him.

His heart broke when he saw the amount of tears streaming down your face and he immediately knelt down in front of you, placing one hand on your thigh while the other went up to your cheek, wiping the tears as they fell.

“What happened?” He asked, and through your sniffles you spoke up. “My father is dead… I must return home to claim the title.” You sobbed, leaning into your touch as he frowned. “Oh…” He trailed off, and you nodded, wiping your face with your gloved hand as you sighed. “I cannot let my legacy fall into the hands of the Death watch…” You stated, rising to your feet as Rex did.

Rex thought back to his last mission, and to what Cut had offered him, a place to stay. But Rex had said that he had to go, because he had a family waiting for him. He had you. And now you had to leave to protect your family too.

Rex nodded in understanding, pulling you into his arms as he kissed your forehead. “Go. I won’t stop you. But keep in contact with me, and if you need me i’m sure i can convince General Skywalker to take a detour to Mandalore.” He said, making you chuckle as you pulled away.

You pressed your forehead to his, sighing. “I’ll always have you in my heart, Riduur.” You muttered, pulling him into a gentle kiss. “I’ll contact you when I arrive in Mandalore.” You stated, grabbing your helmet and what clothes you had already packed.

You walked to the door, turning to look at your husband, offering him a warm smile. “I have a feeling i’ll be seeing you soon.” You stated.

And boy were you ever right.

“But that’s a story for another time, of to bed kiddos!” You exclaimed as you clapped your hands together, seeing your two children, twins, boy and a girl whine.

Your daughter had bright blonde hair, and striking blue eyes that much resembled her father, your son however, had a mix of you and a mix of their father, having your eyes and hair colour but his fathers skin tone.

As your kids ran off, you felt a pair of arms wrap around you, and you smiled warmly, tilting your head back as you spotted your husband, Rex, smiling down at you. “Regailing how we met hm?” He asked, pressing his lips to your temple as you chuckled. “Indeed, they asked so i told.” You stated, standing up and turning to face him, resting a hand on your very pregnant belly.

“They’re growing so fast, Riduur.” You sighed, leaning into rex as he hummed. “I know… and i have to leave again…” He trailed off, and you sighed. “I know… Echo and the other clones need you… just- stay alive baby, okay?” You asked, and Rex nodded, getting down to one knee as he pressed gentle kisses to your round stomach.

“I’ll be back to see this little one pop, i promise.” He stated, standing up and kissing you once more before placing his helmet on his head, walking to the door. “Tell Hunter and the others i said goodbye?” He asked, and you nodded. “See you soon, Riduur.” You waved, watching as he walked out of your home and closed the door.

You sighed again. Time to put your little family to sleep.

Your little warriors… the family Rex always came home too.

➺

Tag list:

Rex tag:

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[rinixo]

pendulum

Tech/Reader | 5.2k | Rated E | afab reader, smut, virgin!reader, inexperienced reader, sex pollen, oral sex, experienced Tech, Tech with dom tendencies, Tech is a tease, mention of illness, mention of needles

While scavenging a (mostly) abandoned science facility, you are dosed with a mysterious substance. Tech offers assistance.

read on ao3

You had yet to have a mission with (the former) Clone Force 99 that didn’t end up going sideways, and it was getting to the point you wondered if the galaxy had something out for you.

When you were first introduced to the team of ex-troopers on Ord Mantell you didn’t expect you’d be seeing much of them after that. You did the odd job for Cid now and again - being a war refugee wasn’t the most stable of lifestyles - and every time you showed up at least one of them was parked in the parlor. After a while, you had begun to join them on select jobs and had gotten to know them fairly well - especially since every one of the missions ended up with someone hurt, kidnapped, or, as in this case, dosed with an experimental drug.

“All clear,” a modulated voice confirmed from ahead of you. Rubbing your arm where the crazy scientist had managed to jab you, you joined Tech in the doorway of an empty storeroom. You and he had been separated from the rest of the crew and were currently wandering around the lower levels of the science facility you had been sent to salvage. The power was out from a large overload, trapping you in the dark labyrinth for the time being.

“Let’s rest here,” Tech decided, pulling off his helmet and setting it on a crate. “I’ll try to make contact with the Marauder.”

“All right.” You walked over to a crate opposite the one he was leaning against, hopping up on it with a grunt. Pulling down your sleeve, you tried to get a good look at where you had been jabbed with the syringe.

Cid had promised that the place was abandoned, which turned out to be extremely untrue. Some unhinged scientists had stuck around, and when you had stumbled on one in what was supposed to be an empty laboratory you had ended up in a scuffle. Thankfully Tech was right behind you and quickly neutralized your assailant, but not before a needle was slammed into the flesh of your upper arm.

It seemed to be ok, you decided. You’d probably end up with a bruise, but other than a dull throb there didn’t seem to be much damage.

“How is it?” Tech questioned, not looking up from his datapad. At first, you had freaked out, thinking you had been poisoned, but a calm analysis by your quick-witted companion had been able to confirm that whatever it was in the syringe wasn’t going to kill you. It was still unclear what exactly it was, but you had relaxed a bit knowing that you weren’t going to keel over, foaming at the mouth.

“It’s fine, I think,” you answered. “A little sore.”

“Mmm,” was his simple response. You didn’t mind - in fact, you had become quite fond of Tech’s particularly blunt way of addressing things. He didn’t mince words and got straight to the point, something you appreciated after years of dealing with pirates and scavengers and countless others who survived by deceiving others. It was a refreshing change of pace, working with someone whom you could trust.

“Any luck?” You inquired, tilting your head at the device in Tech’s hands. He sighed and set it off to the side.

“Unfortunately not,” he said. “Whatever EMP pulse it was that shook this place and got us separated from the others also fried my datapad, and I don’t have the necessary tools to repair it.”

You raised a brow. “Really? Nothing in all those pockets of yours?”

“No,” Tech pinched the bridge of his nose. “Not this time. An oversight on my end.”

Looking around, you rummaged through some of the crates and discovered a store of medical linens. Divvying them up, you settled against the crate with an exhausted sigh.

“Might as well bunker down then,” you said. “It’s been a long day.”

“Indeed,” Tech concurred.

—

Several boring hours later, the two of you sat side by side against a crate, finishing off some rations.

“So what do you think these guys were doing here?” You queried, wiping crumbs off your hands.

Tech cleared his throat, launching into a hypothesis. “From what info I was able to collect, it seemed they were working on biological warfare agents. Enhancing illicit substances, things like that. A lucrative business.”

You frowned. “I’m not going to get the plague, am I?”

“No, I don’t believe so,” Tech affirmed. “The work being done here seemed to be more on the subtle side. Designed to impact smaller targets in specific ways.”

“Like what?” You were curious, and thankfully Tech liked to explain things as he expanded on his guesses.

“Mind-altering drugs that impair judgment, or create paranoia,” he listed. “Substances intended to embarrass or cause people to debase and humiliate themselves.”

“Sounds like you have firsthand experience.”

He glanced at you. “There was an interesting situation where were evacuating a senator from a separatist prison. She had been injected with a drug that caused her to exhibit fewer inhibitions when it came to soliciting others. It was quite the struggle to let her down, due to her impaired state of mind.”

“She propositioned you?” You asked incredulously.

“Yes. Rather forcefully,” Tech mused. “I had to restrain her, in the end.” He let out of huff of amusement at the memory. “I have never preferred my sexual partners to be those in positions of power, much to her disappointment. It creates an inherent power imbalance that I am not particularly interested in.”

You gaped, mouth open lamely. That was not the way you had expected that story to end. Tech had always come off as someone who would be uninterested in such frank expectations around sex.

“You look surprised,” Tech observed, and you sputtered.

“No, it’s just - I just thought that-“ you trailed off, realizing you were only digging yourself deeper into a hole of embarrassment.

“You thought that out of my brothers, I was the least likely to have experience with sexual intercourse,” Tech stated matter-of-factly. He had a way of saying things so casually in situations others would be uncomfortable in, and this seemed to be another one of those.

“I - yeah,” you admitted. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed something like that. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

Shrugging, Tech looked back down at his dead datapad, fiddling with some wires.

“It is a logical conclusion,” he remarked. “I am aware that my attributes do not lead one to associate me with sexual situations.”

You frowned. Was he calling himself unattractive?

“Well, I wouldn’t say that,” you countered. “I- you’re very handsome, Tech.” You flushed at your admission, wondering if you were overstepping.

He tilted his head towards you again, one brow raising in question. “I am a clone. We vary little in our appearances.”

“I’m serious,” you huffed, punching him lightly on the shoulder. “Sure, clones are clones, but you and your brothers look quite a bit different from your average trooper. And not in a bad way.”

He held your gaze for a breath longer than necessary before returning it to the device in his lap. “Thank you,” he acknowledged, after a brief silence.

Thankful that your conversation had relaxed, you leaned against the crate and stared up at the ceiling, lit dimly by a flickering inset light.

A dull throb of discomfort made you wince. Pressure was starting to build behind your eyes, like a headache. “I think I’m going to try to sleep,” you decided, and went to the corner where you had set up a makeshift bed.

Tech just nodded and re-focused back on the datapad. Rolling onto your side, you closed your eyes and tried to will yourself asleep.

You woke a while later, what little sleep you had experienced restless and uncomfortable. Sweat made your thin shirt cling to your shoulders and chest, and your mouth was drier than Tatooine.

Looking around for your canteen, you hastily downed what water was left in it. It wasn’t enough, but it helped a bit. Your head hurt, your blood felt like it was on fire, and there was an ache between your legs that hadn’t been there a few hours ago.

“Ah. You’re awake,” Tech’s voice chirped from the doorway. He stepped inside and stood with his hands clasped behind his back. “I was expecting you to still be out.”

“Can’t sleep,” you rasped. “I think whatever that scientist injected is starting to kick in.” You rubbed your eyes and glanced up at your companion.

“Hmm.” Stepping forward, Tech took your chin in hand and tilted your head to the side. “What kinds of symptoms are you experiencing?”

“I’m burning up,” you mumbled miserably. “My head hurts, and -“ you trailed off, feeling shy once again. You were not about to admit to Tech that you were starting to feel incredibly aroused.

“And?” Tech prodded.

“Nothing,” you deflected. “That’s all.”

Another brow raise, and you suspected he could tell you were not being honest. Thankfully, he didn’t push the subject, and let go of your chin before wandering back over to his own bedroll.

“I was able to make contact with the others. They had to flee, but will be back here in a few hours,” he said, sitting against the wall. “We can get you medical assistance and investigate the purpose of the drug once it does.”

You nodded, throat too dry to respond. Noticing you shaking your now empty canteen, Tech tossed you his. You downed it in one go, mumbling thanks.

“I’m gonna…try to get some more sleep,” you rasped. Though you doubted it would work, you figured trying to sleep until the rest of the crew arrived might alleviate some of the discomfort coursing through your body.

“Do not hesitate to tell me if your symptoms worsen,” Tech directed, and you sighed and laid back down.

The fire burning under your skin only increased as time went on. You curled up on your side, trying not to whimper or give in to the urge to stick your hands down your pants. Tech wandered in and out of the room, no doubt looking for something to keep his busy mind occupied. Part of you longed to call out to him, beg him to help you alleviate the ache of emptiness in your cunt, but you stilled your tongue and tried to tough it out.

Finally, after a particularly harsh pulse of need, you sat up and leaned against the crate. You pulled up the back of your shirt, pressing it against the cool metal in an attempt to find some comfort from your burning flesh, but it did little to help.

“You have gotten worse,” Tech chimed from across from you. He peered at you intensely, and you wondered how long he had been watching you. You noticed he had stripped out of his armor and was just in his underlayers. “I suspect you are in significant discomfort.”

“Yeah,” you conceded. “It’s making me feel-“ you trailed off, wondering how to explain it to him.

“Your body has increased in temperature and levels of sexual hormones,” Tech stated bluntly. You gaped at him, surprised he had figured it out. Had you been that obvious?

“How did you know?” You asked.

“When I ran a diagnostic when you were injected I got several hits related to amatory agents. It did not seem pertinent to mention at the time,” he explained. “I did not want to make you uncomfortable. Topics of a sexual nature are usually quite private for most.” “I think we’re past that,” you croaked.

“Agreed.” With a low grunt, he hopped off the crate he was sitting on.

“Perhaps I may assist,” Tech offered. He stood straighter, hands once again clasped behind his back.

You choked out a laugh. “What, put me out of my misery?”

You caught a glimpse of the faintest movement of his lips into a smirk at your jest before it disappeared. “In a way,” he mused.

“I do have limited knowledge of aphrodisiac and libido-enhancing stimulants. I suspect that is what you were injected with, based on your symptoms.” He pushed up his goggles, listing them off. “Increased rate of respiration, dilated pupils, sensitivity in erogenous zones-“

“Ok,” you cut him off, feeling even more flushed at his frank descriptions of your current predicament. “Aphrodisiac, I got it. How are you going to help?”

“I could stimulate you in an attempt to relieve the symptoms,” he continued. “In many cases, these kinds of toxins can be flushed out of the system more rapidly by engaging in amatory expression.”

You blinked up at him - on a good day Tech’s scholarly explanations sometimes flew over your head, but this was a whole new kind of confusion.

“I must be losing my mind,” you rambled. “Because it sounds like you’re offering to fuck this out of my system.“

“That is precisely what I am offering,” Tech confirmed. “In less technical phrasing.”

You chewed over your options. None of them were particularly favorable. You could either lay there in continued misery until the rest of the crew arrived, or sleep with Tech.

In a normal situation, the second option wouldn’t seem so daunting, but you had never slept with anyone before. You had fled your planet at a young age and since then had never been in a place where that kind of experience was feasible. Did you really want this to be your first time - in a dusty storeroom, with someone who was only doing it out of medical need?

A particularly painful pulse to your groin answered for you. Standing with a groan, you looked up at Tech who was patiently waiting for your answer. “I-we can try,” you decided.

Nodding, Tech stepped towards you. Your heart, already thrumming, increased in its tempo as his much taller form closed in. Your breath came out in rapid pulses as he leaned his head down towards yours, his eyes focused intently on your face.

You started to feel overwhelmed. “W-wait,” you pushed on his shoulders, stepping backward away from him. “Hold on, I-“ You wrapped your arms around your chest, creating a barrier.

Tech immediately drew away, tilting his head. “You are nervous,” he observed “Understandable. I will leave if you have changed your mind-“

“No,” you shook your head. “No, I’ve just…I’ve never done anything like this before,” you confessed, staring intently at the ground.

A beat of silence. “Ah. You are a virgin,” Tech replied simply. “Surprising.”

You frowned, looking back up at him. “What?”

“You are a young woman with features many people consider attractive,” he elaborated. “It stands to reason that you would have had those who would have desired you sexually.”

Mind racing - did he just call you attractive? - you shook your head. “No. It just…never felt right. Comfortable,” you faltered.

Tech nodded, rubbing his chin in thought. “That is not unusual,” he affirmed. "Or unwise. Many people experience dissatisfaction stemming from unsuitable sexual partners.”

“I’m a little out of my element,” you muttered. “I don’t know what to do.”

There was a gleam of something unreadable in Tech’s gaze, and he leaned forward. You breathed out, eyes wide and body frozen. He hovered over you again, your back pressed up against the crate and neck craning to look up at him.

“That is quite all right,” he assured, taking your chin in his hand again. “I do.”

With that, he pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was soft, and exploratory, sending shivers up your spine. You shuddered against him, and he took that as an affirmation to press against you more firmly.

Relaxing your body, you allowed Tech to move closer, legs spreading to allow him to slot himself against your trembling form. Your hands came up to grasp at his firm biceps as he pulled away from your mouth. You panted, eyes fixed on his slightly swollen lips.

“I want you to tell me if you are uncomfortable at any point,” he instructed lowly. “Due to your enhanced state you may not feel the usual discomfort, but seeing as you have never done this before, there is still the chance you may-“

“Tech,” you pleaded, interrupting him. His touch had ignited something inside of you, and you pressed up against him. You knew that when this was over you would be grateful for his concern, but right now you just wanted him to kiss you again.

“Please,” you whispered, and you saw his throat bob as he swallowed roughly. You wondered how you looked in his eyes - flushed, aroused, body fervently pleading for his. Did he like it? Or was this just clinical for him? Your lust-addled mind wanted him to like it. You wanted him to like you.

Clearing his throat, Tech leaned back down. This time you met his mouth with your own, sighing at the way he licked your lips before his tongue slid over yours. He pulled back, and your whine at the loss turned into another sigh as he kissed from your jaw, down your arched neck to your collarbone. Grasping the hem of your shirt, he pulled it off your damp skin and let out the smallest of exhales at the sight of your bare chest.

“Brilliant,” he mumbled. With impressive strength, he grasped your hips and sat you up on the crate so that your chest was level with his head. Dipping his head down again, he placed more soft, open kisses on your skin. One of your hands went from his arm to his head as his clever tongue lathed over the peak of one breast - the sensation made you gasp, shocks of pleasure cascading down to your slick cunt.

“Sensitive,” Tech noted, voice husked as he moved from one peaked nipple to the other. “A result of the drug, perhaps?” His teeth pulled on your nipple, gentle yet firm, and you arched into it. “Or maybe you’re always like this.”

“D-don’t know,” you stuttered. “You’re the first one to d-do this…”

A pleased hum, and Tech looks up at you. “Fascinating,” he husked. You wondered if he liked that - being the first man to touch you, kiss you, see you bare in this way. It would certainly fit with his curious nature.

He trails his mouth down your body, lips ghosting over your soft flesh. He comes to the top of your leggings and leans back. Taking them in his hands, he begins to pull them down your thighs, your hips lifting to assist.

“Have you never experienced any kind of sexual contact, or just not penetrative sex?” He inquired, slipping your drenched panties down your legs as well.

“Nothing,” you mumbled. “Just…just myself.” You had explored your own body a few times, but a lack of experience and motivation had never brought you any kind of significant relief.

“Nothing,” he repeats, and pushes your shoulders gently so that you are laying back on top of the crate, your hips pulled to the edge. Tech kneels, and you prop yourself up nervously, realizing what he was intending to do.

“I- I think I’m pretty ready,” you squeak. “You don’t have to do that-“ You trail off as he flicks his eyes from the apex of your thighs to your face. He lifts his goggles off, placing them down neatly at your side.

“This is your first time,” Tech’s gaze is firm, determined. “I would be remiss if I did not give you the experience you deserve.” His hands come to spread your thighs, and even through the fog of your lust, you burn at the thought of him staring at your glistening folds. One of his hands moves from your thigh, and he runs two fingers over your cunt, pressing at the swollen, sensitive flesh. You let out a moan as he repeats the motion, applying pressure on your clit with his knuckles.

He settles his face between your legs comfortably, pulling one of your legs to the side and lifting the other to rest on his shoulder. With one last glance at your smoldering expression, he dips down and lathes his tongue from your leaking hole up over your clit.

You gasp, a hand coming up to cover your mouth. Every new sensation up to this point had been more pleasurable than the last, but this? The feeling of Tech’s tongue licking your cunt purposefully was nearly indescribable. It was more than just the physical sensation; it was also the visual of this man kneeling before you with his head between your thighs. Something about Tech had always seemed so untouchable, unattainable, yet here he was, mouthing against your cunt on a dusty floor.

“No need to silence yourself,” Tech chides, a frown on his brow. “There is no one around to overhear, and I would like verbal confirmation of your pleasure.”

“O-okay,” you breathe shakily, moving your hand from your mouth. Satisfied, Tech returns to his work dutifully.

You oblige his request with soft panting and gasps, and let your fingers run tentatively over his scalp. He hums in affirmation against you, making you twitch from the subtle vibration.

He focuses on your clit as something bright begins to spark inside of you. You know what an orgasm is - theoretically - and lay your head back down as Tech draws you closer. He alternates between kitten licks and sucking, and a tremble starts in your lower body. As it builds so does your anticipation. It’s almost overwhelming, and Tech notices you fighting it.

“Let it happen,” he soothes. “I’ve got you. You’ll feel better once you come.” More attention to your pulsing clit, and your leg begins to shake as your orgasm crests.

Your back arches stiffly, your mouth opening into a silent gasp. Tech holds you firm, licking and kissing your cunt all the way through it. Warmth, like liquid lightning, explodes from where his mouth meets your body, and for a moment you think you’ll never come down from it.

Eventually, you come to, leaning up back on your elbows as Tech stands. He wipes his chin with a thumb absently, and you stare at how his lips glisten with you.

“Was that your first orgasm?” Tech queries. You nod, still in a haze. He smirks ever so slightly, clearly pleased with himself.

“How do you feel?”

You frown, trying to think. Much of the burning sensation is gone, but there’s still an ache deep inside of you that has yet to be satisfied.

“Empty,” you decide, and Tech lets out another terse breath. You look down at his waist - he is stripped to just his blacks, and there is a prominent bulge pressing against the dark fabric.  Your mouth suddenly waters, and you lurch forward, startling Tech.

He stabilizes you with his hands on your shoulders. “Careful,” he warns.

“I want to make you feel good,” you insist. “Teach me how to touch you.”

His throat bobs again as he swallows roughly. “Another time,” he placates. “This time is about you.”

He slides his blacks down, revealing his cock, hard and throbbing. Your cunt pulses in anticipation. You’d never seen a man's penis outside of images on the ‘net, so you didn’t have a lot of references, but you were pretty sure he was more endowed than the average male. So much so that even through the insistence of the drug you were concerned if he would fit inside you.

Tech comes forward to kiss you again, pulling you towards him. Sliding his arms under your bare thighs, he pulls you off the crate and walks you over to where his bed linens are spread out. Breaking from your mouth, he lays you down, hovering over your body and slotting himself between your legs. He shuffles forward, groin meeting yours, and rubs the head of himself through your slick.

“Remember what I said,” he directs lowly, and you nod. Satisfied, he grasps your hips and positions his cock at your entrance.

You wince at the pressure and the push; not from pain, but from the experience of a new sensation. Even through the enhancement the drug has placed on your body, he stretches you, splits you. Your mind races, trying to find the words to describe how it feels to have his cock inside of you - full, big, deep - finally deciding that it just feels right.

A groan from above you snaps your focus back externally, and you look up at Tech’s face. His brow is furrowed, not unlike when he is focusing on a problem.

“Are you ok?” You whisper, and he nods, head dipping to see where he is feeding himself into you. He pushes forward, thrusting more of his cock into your body.

“Yes,” he breathes out. “You are very tight, even with the effects of the drug.”

Clocking your concerned expression, he dips his head down to capture your mouth in another kiss. “It is - you feel incredible,” he assures. “I’m going to move now.”

Tech starts out slow, the drag of his cock up and then down intended to get you acclimated. Your legs come up to hook over his hips, and you bite your lip at the way your body is dragged against his.

You sigh in pleasured satisfaction, eyes closing and body relaxing into the rough medical blankets. Above you, Tech watches the way your mouth opens and brings a hand up to caress your swollen bottom lip.

“How does it feel?” Tell me,” he requests. Your brow furrows as you try to find the words, and he urges you on with another purposeful thrust.

“Good,” you cry. “Stars, Tech- it’s so good.” You roll your hips up to meet his, body purring with gratification at the strained breath it draws from him.

“What feels good?” He prods. His hips circle, and you choke at how he seems to know exactly where you need him inside of you.

“Your cock. S’big. Filling me up,” you mewl. “I l-like it, Tech.”

“Good girl,” he breathes out, and you clench at the praise. His pace quickens, and you know that you’ll feel the ache of him inside you for days after this.

You feel an orgasm building once more, though this time it is sparking from deeper inside of you. There’s a particular spot inside of your cunt that his cock rams against over and over, precise and intentional. One of his hands comes down to press softly against your swollen clit, and you let out a squeak at the sensation. You try to fight down your release, wanting to drag this out as long as you can.

“I…am not going to last much longer,” Tech professes, voice tense. You let out a low wail. “Where do you want me to come?”

“Inside me,” you beg instantly. “Come in me Tech, please. I need it.” It isn’t an exaggeration - your nerves scream for him to spill his seed inside of you, to satisfy the fire under your skin. It’s what you need to relieve the ache that has been building for hours.

“P-persuasive,” he chokes, gripping your hips and fucking himself into you harder. “If you insist-“

Your legs, hooked over his thin waist, tighten their grip around him. You cease fighting your impending release, enjoying the way your cunt flutters around Tech’s iron-hard cock. He is enjoying it as well if the way his mouth opens in a low gasp is any indication.

“T-tech,” you rasp, and his gaze snaps to your face. A firm hand grasps your chin, and he leans forward, his chest pressing against your own heaving form.

“Look at me when you come,” he demands, and you do your best to do what he says, Your orgasm rolls over you, and you blink away tears of pleasure as he rocks you through it.

His own finish comes during yours, the way your cunt clenches around him wringing from him the orgasm you need him to have. It’s a sight - the normally so put-together man burying his face into the side of your neck to muffle the sound of his pleasure into your sweat-slicked skin. His hips slow their pace as he pulses his release inside of you, giving in to your request for him to finish inside of your desperate cunt.

It takes a moment for both of you to steady your breathing. You throw an arm over your eyes, relief pouring through your body. It feels like dipping into a cold pool of water on a hot day, body returning to a state of equilibrium.

Lifting himself off you slowly, Tech pulls himself out of you at the same time. Your tongue darts out with a gasp at the sensation of something thick leaking out of your still-fluttering cunt. You hear him let out a satisfied noise at the sight, tucking himself back into his underlayers.

“Are you all right?” He questions softly, and you peek out from under your arm to nod.

“Yes,” you shiver. “T-thanks. I feel much better.”

Nodding, Tech leans against the crate, letting out a sigh. “I am…glad to hear it.”

Now that the drug has been placated, your senses returning to normal, you start to feel awkward. Following his lead, you gather your clothes and slip them on quietly, leaning up against the crate next to him. You pull your knees up to your chest and lay your chin on top, wondering if you should say something.

“You are thinking very loudly,” Tech comments, and you flick your eyes at him. His head leans against the crate, turned slightly to pierce you knowingly.

“Is mind reading another one of your enhancements?” You mumble, and he gives you a soft smile.

“No, though that would come in handy at times,” he reckons. “I just mean that you should not feel embarrassed at what has just transpired between us, though it is natural for one to experience those kinds of feeling after their first sexual encounter-“

“Easier said than done,” you challenged half-heartedly. “But thanks. I’m…grateful that you were here.”

“Was it satisfactory?” Tech inquired, and you let out a short laugh.

“Well it’s not like I have a wide frame of reference - but yes,” you admit. “It was…very good.” You clear your throat, embarrassed. “Was it…ok…for you?”

Tech raises a brow at your timid question. “Are you asking if I enjoyed having sex with you?”

You groan and bury your face in your knees, and feel him shuffle closer to you.

“While it may have been born out of medical necessity, it was not a chore,” Tech assures you. He knocks a shoulder against you, and you tilt your head up to pout at him. That’s probably the most direct affirmation you’re going to get from him, you decide. Little wins.

“And I meant what I said,” he continues. “About…another time. If you are not opposed.” Your brows raise in interest, and you clear your throat nervously before asking;

“How long did you say it would take the rest of the crew to get here?"

—

[awkward-tension-art]

Darkness on Umbara Chp.2 (Rex x Reader)

Chapter 1. Chapter 3.

Pong Krell

cw: Rex x Reader, Reader is a medic, incorrect military procedure, graphic descriptions of injuries, blood, swearing, death and battle, Spoilers for the Umbara Arc, Pong Krell is an asshole, reader insert, reader is gender neutral, no use of (Y/N), if i miss a tag LMK

Minors DNI, even if theres no smut

“Don’t worry about me, Doc.” A trooper, Watcher, stood. His arm had been broken and it would need a few rotations to fully heal even with the bacta. 

“It’s my job to worry about you.” You smiled at him, “go on. You're all patched up.”

“Thank you, Doctor.” Watcher saluted respectfully before stepping to the edge of the trench and following it to his position.

Kix sounded from where he finished up with another trooper, “You're too nice to these guys.” 

“Well, I’ve found that my patients respond better to some kindness.” You snarked back, “Which is probably why everyone prefers me as their medic.” 

“Maybe if you-”

Kix’s words were cut off by a howl of agony further down the trench. You heard the cries and calls of different soldiers.

“What is that!?” “Shoot it!” 

Immediately chaos erupted. Someone, Jesse, tackled you to the ground. Just in time, because when you looked up, you noticed a dark, smoking burn on the trunk of a bioluminescent tree where your head had been in front of. 

“Ambush!” Someone shouted out through more blaster shots. 

Out of the corner of your eye there was a clone shaped burst of electric blue. His body collapsed and from it, a glowing six legged creature leapt to the ground and scuttled through the staging area. A couple of soldiers chased, shooting at the nimble thing.

Someone's down. Electricity. Heart could have stopped. Burns definitely. 

You ran forward, skidding to a stop behind a large rock. Two shots nicked the stone, but you remained focused on the downed trooper. After a second you ran forward again, only to jerk back, narrowly avoiding a blaster bolt to the chest. 

Two Umbarans burst from the foggy darkness and ran forward, blasters glowing through the shadows. You dove back behind the boulder, hand steady on your blaster pistol. 

“Get back!” The ground shook slightly as an ARF-trooper slammed the metal foot of his AT-RT in front of your cover. He snarled, firing his laser cannons. The damn Umbarans didn’t stand a chance.

“Thank you!” you shouted up at him before sprinting to the downed trooper. His body was smoking from the heat of the electric bug. you swore, ripping off his plastoid chest piece and beginning compressions. You counted, hitting 30 before checking his pulse.

Nothing. He wasn’t moving. Brain must’ve been fried.

You tried compressions again to the same result.

Name. What was his name? Through the dark you saw a diamond tattoo next to his eye. 

Vim. His name was Vim.

Another one of those fucking blue creatures scuttled over the side of the trench. The bioluminescent creature was focused on you. It screeched and leapt, sharp, crackling claws ready.

You were ready too, pistol aim steady. You pulled the trigger and scorched its tail. It missed your body and hit the ground where Anakin swiped down with his lightsaber. 

“Nice shot.” He greeted you, kneeling down behind the cover of the trench. Rex was, thankfully, next to him.

“What the fuck are these things?!” you asked, keeping your head down. You technically weren’t supposed to be in the thick of battle. Plus, you couldn’t see if Kix managed to protect the medical speeder and its supplies. You had to get back to your original position.

The jedi stood, deflecting glowing blaster shots, “Dunno, but they’re definitely a pest.”

“Call in an airstrike on enemy positions.” The 501st nodded to the general when Anakin knelt again.

“Let's hope they’re not too busy helping Obi-wan!”

Rex, the ever strategic mind, continued, “There's an opening to our south,” He motioned in the proper direction, “I recommend we move all platoons off the ridge in case the airstrike over shoots.”

Get back to the speeder and get the supplies out of here.

You didn’t wait to hear more. General Skywalker usually followed Rex’s recommendation, so that's your cue to get back.

As you weaved through other soldiers, cover and the glowing plant-life, Anakin called out, just as predicted, “Everyone, move out! Now!” 

Thankfully, the speeder was untouched. Nearby, an ARF trooper leaning over the edge of his AT-RT raised a shaky hand to you. He was alive.

You refused to leave him.

“Kix, where are you?” You spoke into your com as you started the speeder and moved closer to the downed transport. A blaster narrowly missed your cheek, but you didn't break your focus. At the moment, the pain was barely a sting.

“Heading south, where the fuck are you?” 

“On my way.” Your hands were on the injured soldier and heaved onto the attached stretcher in a matter of seconds. Revving the medical vehicle, you sped over the edge of the trench and followed the troopers south. 

The terrain was rough. You could barely tell what was on the ground as you drove. Leaning over, you put a stabilizing hand on the injured trooper, speeding over a pretty steep ridge. The transport lurched, but you managed to keep it steady. 

Thankfully, the poor ARF trooper groaned when you got the speeder stable again. 

If he had the energy to make noises, he had the energy to survive.

You noticed Anakin’s blue lightsaber in the distance. Next to him, Rex.

You slowed the speeder down, stopping behind the cover of dark, twisted claw-like plant life. Other soldiers had beat you there, and it seemed like most of the platoons would make it. 

However, you didn’t have time to really process who was around you. Killing the engine of your vehicle, you slipped off to kneel at the injured trooper's side. Even in the lowlight, you assessed what you could. 

Two blaster hits. One through the upper shoulder. Another through the thigh. 

Your eyes roamed the troopers around you. Mentally, you checked off those that you knew. Jesse. Kix. Hardcase. Fives. Rex and Anakin, of course. Seemed you were right and a good majority of the platoons made it.

“Kix, I need you.” you called to him. Tag-teaming these wounds would be the best option.

Wordlessly, he lowered his blaster and got to your side. 

As you worked, you heard the chatter, “All here, sir.” Rex breathed in relief. 

“Stay covered, we have to hold the position!” Anakin barked, keeping his body close to the black trunk of the mangled umbaran tree. 

It was quiet for a moment before Tup spoke, “Are you sure those bombers are coming?” The poor almost-shiny trooper sounded scared, but refused to show it. Jesse nudged him slightly.

There was more thick silence as you focused on treating the ARF trooper. 

Blessedly, in the distance you could hear the approaching drone of the bombers. Briefly, you looked up, recognizing the distinct shape of Y-wings. And usually, wherever they went, precise explosions followed. 

Just as you finished your thought, the world lit up with the burning fires of the bombs. The explosives went off, shaking the ground and illuminating everything around you. Immediately the soldiers cheered as the Umbaran forces were decimated by the air support. 

“Hell yea!” 

“Good ol’ Oddball! Always on target!”

“Take that Umbaran scum!”

You couldn’t help but laugh slightly. It always brightened your mood whenever the clones celebrated. Finding even the smallest amount of happiness did wonders for morale. 

There was another groan and the ARF trooper tried to sit up. He raised an armored hand to his helmet, as if trying to rub his eyes, “Thanks Kix, Thanks doc.” 

“Lay down, you barely just came back to the land of the living.” You gently put a hand on his chest and push him back down, “Get some rest. You need a good rotation or two before you're fit for battle.”

Kix patted your shoulder and stood, shushing you softly. 

You followed his line of sight, seeing General Skywalker and your lover speaking to another jedi. You missed the first part of their conversation, but quickly put the pieces together. 

“Well, I can’t just leave my men!” Anakin practically shouted in frustration. He cared too deeply to leave the 501st to someone else. 

The new arrival, Jedi Master Krell…

Your hackles were raised. You didn’t know the bastard, but you knew his casualty number. You’ve read reports. Too many troops died under his command. Too many good men. His tactics got results, but at the cost of his own soldiers. 

You narrowed your eyes. 

“I’ll be taking over in the interim.” Krell gave a slight bow.

“Don’t worry about a thing, sir,” Rex was facing Anakin, “We’ll have this city under Republic control by the time you’re back.”

The Jedi sighed and nodded, “Master Krell, this is Rex. My first in command." Even from where you were behind him, you knew he looked proud as he practically presented the captain to Krell, “You won’t find a finer and more loyal trooper anywhere.”

“Good to hear that.” The senior jedi patted the younger’s shoulder, “I wish you well, Skywalker.” The farewell was brief and the 501st general walked to the gunship transport. Two other soldiers were going to accompany Anakin, as it lifted to the air. 

You shared a look with Kix and returned to the speeder. Something tells you that everyone will be moving out soon. 

“Your reputation precedes you, General. It is an honor to be serving you.” Rex stepped up next to their new leadership. The clone captain was being respectful, as he always was. Since this isn't the first time the 501st was given a different command, everyone did their best to show respect. It established a good relationship right off the bat, and allowed for better communication for the future. 

“I find it interesting, Captain, that you are able to recognize the value of honor,” Pong Krell’s tone became icy. He turned, keeping his 4 arms clasped behind his back, “For a clone.” 

You paused, and immediately the mood shifted. 

Oh fuck no. it's one of these assholes! You looked over at Fives, his face held the same befuddlement as yours probably did.

“Stand at attention when I address you.” The Besalisk snapped.

The men stiffened and you slipped off the speeder to do the same. 

Krell began to stalk forward, eyes roaming over the battalion, “Your flattery is duly noted but it will not be rewarded.” His gaze was clearly critical as he took in his new force, “There’s a reason my command is so effective, and it's because I do things by the book.” 

At the cost of good men. You nearly snarled. 

“You,” The jedi master stood in front of you, “Are no clone. Name and rank, trooper.” 

You introduced yourself, “I’m the field doctor of the 501st. I tend to the seriously wounded and maintain the medical supplies.”

His eyes narrowed on you, “And why, might I ask, would someone with your…skill set be slumming it with the clone troopers. There are other platoons with non-clones that could use you.”

Your hand twitches, readying to swing. However, you caught Rex shaking his head from behind the General. Instead, you swallowed your anger. 

“Respectfully, General, I am not ‘slumming it.’ my fellow troopers are good, loyal and hardworking men.” you answered him honestly, “I see no difference between them and I.”

Pong Krell let out a condescending laugh, “Well, I suppose it doesn’t matter. As long as you can take orders.” He walked past you, but paused to glare down at the injured ARF trooper, “Have all platoons ready to move out immediately. That is all.” He sneered.

Your new General didn’t look back as the troops prepared to move. You got back on the medical speeder and cast a worried look at your lover. 

Rex sighed and put his helmet on to join Krell at the front.

This…is going to be a long campaign.

[leon-anna]

Here are some doodles of Burner and Pulse that have existed for so long we no longer remember what the context was.

Whatever they were actually planned for, I hope you'll enjoy seeing our dear medic and pilot in these charming little sketches 😌

This is a bonus. Leon was trying to make the colors a bit warmer and I actually really like it. So here is some extra Pulse 💗👇

[flashthescalesian-art]

Pulse: What is wrong with my face?! Joker: Would you like the list in alphabetical order or in descending order of grossness?

[vodika-vibes]

pls I know you probably have so many requests but you've brought up the idea of dom dogma and i'm on my knees begging for you to write some of that, any of it i'm not picky :3

Pay Attention

Summary: Dogma is able to command your attention in all the best ways, and for very good reason.

Pairing: Clone Trooper Dogma x F!Reader

Word Count: 1237

Warnings: Smut. Dom/Sub dynamics. Dogma likes rules, even in bed.

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: So, I had so many ideas for this fic, but I ended up going this way so it didn't end up as 10K words of pure smut.

If your beloved’s brothers knew exactly what he was like when they weren’t around, they’d never believe it. Their opinion of their younger brother is that he’s something of a stickler for the rules, and, to be fair to them, Dogma is.

They, however, take that to mean that he’s not any fun.

And they couldn’t be more wrong if they tried.

Dogma has just returned from a very long deployment, and once he finished all of the work that he needed to finish at the battalion, he came to you.

And, after a very nice dinner and dessert where you regaled him with everything you did while he was gone, giving him the chance to decompress from his most recent deployment, Dogma coaxed you into the bedroom. 

Which is how you ended up in this position. Totally naked, save for the silky scarves binding your hands behind your back and the matching scarf wrapped around your eyes to block you from seeing what he’s doing.

Dogma also positioned you so that you’re resting on your knees in the middle of the bed, your legs slightly spread so that he’s able to have as much access to your body as he desires.

Warm hands slide across your ribs, and up over your breasts. His touch is little more than a caress, but you’ve been without him and his touch for months, so you’re already so sensitive.

His lips wrap around one of your, already pebbled, nipples and a whine slips from you without your permission as you arch into his mouth. However, the moment you do, he pulls away from you.

“Cyare,” Dogma’s voice is so soft, “What did I say when we started?”

You let out a frustrated noise, as you struggle to ignore the way that your pussy is throbbing with arousal and try to remember his instructions, murmured in your ear, as he lovingly bound your hands behind you.

His hands slide down your sides, and around your back to roughly grip your ass, “Well?” Dogma’s lips settle over the pulse point of your throat, and he methodically bites a mark onto the tender skin there.

It’s not fair, you decide as your train of thought completely derails at the sensation of his teeth biting into you and his rough hands massaging your ass, how are you supposed to think when he’s cheating like this?

There’s a laugh in his voice when he speaks again, “Don’t tell me my obedient little love doesn’t remember the rules?” Dogma asks as he moves his lips to rest just under your ear and nibbling gently.

“You-”

“Yes?”

“You said…no moving.”

“Good girl,” The praise sends heat through your whole body, you want to be his good girl, more than anything. And he knows it. “What else?” Dogma asks as he moves to brush his lips against your own.

“No touching.” That answer comes a lot faster than the first one. 

Dogma kisses you properly this time, his tongue sliding past your unresisting lips to map out your mouth, as though he doesn’t know your body with the same familiarity that he knows his own, “Very good job. I’m proud of you for remembering.” He murmurs once he pulls back, “There was one more. Do you remember it?”

“Um…”

“I know you can,” Dogma whispers against your ear, “My clever girl has never let me down.”

“You said…” You trail off as his hands close around your breasts and his thumbs roll over your nipples, “You said no cumming-”

“Without-” He prompts.

“Permission.” You gasp, holding yourself still through sheer force of will, “I can’t cum without your permission.”

One of Dogma’s hands trails down your body and dips between your thighs, zeroing in on your clit with the ease of long familiarity, and pressing down hard. “That’s exactly right. You remembered all three of my rules, very good job.”

You whine as your hips twitch from the sensation of his thumb pressed against you. “T-thank you-” You gasp out.

“Thank you…?” Dogma adds a little more pressure to your clit, and starts rubbing quick little circles around the sensitive nub.

“Sir!” You gasp, “Thank you sir!”

“Much better,” Dogma says quietly, though he continues the movement with his thumb. You can feel his gaze on your face, and you know that he has a smug little smile playing on his lips. “Are you going to cum, cyar’ika? Without permission? If you do that, I’ll have to punish you.”

It’s a warning.

It’s a promise.

You whimper as your orgasm washes over you, your body curling in against his as you tremble from the force of your orgasm. Dogma’s free arm curls around your upper back, holding you as you come down from your high. 

And then the blindfold is removed and you peer at him in confusion. Like you thought, he has a smug little smile on his lips, “You’re normally better at following my rules, cyare.” 

He sounds thrilled though, rather than disappointed. 

And, well, since you’ve already broken one of his rules you might as well go all in. So you lean in and bury your face against his neck, filling your lungs with the scent of him, “It’s been too long-” You mumble as an explanation, “I missed you.”

He nudges the side of your head with his nose, “I know. I missed you too.” Dogma kisses your temple, “But that doesn’t mean you’re getting out of your punishment, cyar’ika.”

You just hum your acceptance and he chuckles.

“Where are you at, pretty girl?”

It’s his way of checking in on you. To remind you that he’s here and that he loves you and that this stops the moment you need it to. But you don’t want it to stop. Not yet.

“I don’t think I can stay in this position for much longer,” You admit quietly, no longer able to ignore the discomfort in your knees from being in this position.

Dogma nods once, swiftly unbinding your hands from behind you and then tying them to the headboard while he encourages you to stretch out across the bed, “Better?”

You stretch your legs out, and nod with an adoring smile, “Much.”

“Good.” He caresses your hip, “You remember your safe word?”

You sigh heavily, and he arches his brows and pulls his hand away from your body, “I remember!” You say quickly, “Don’t stop!”

He clicks his tongue, “I’ve clearly been gone too long, you went and forgot all of your manners.”

Your face heats, whoops. “Please? Please don’t stop touching me? It’s been too long, I need you.”

“Hm…much better.” He leans in and presses a light kiss to your hip, “Spread your legs, pretty girl.”

Immediately you do as he asks, making space for him between your thighs. 

“So quick to obey me,” He trails a finger along your slit, and then he smiles at you, all warm and loving. “I wonder how many times I can make you cum while just using my tongue.”

You squeak as he moves your legs over his shoulders.

“My perfect girl, you’re not getting my cock until I’ve made you cum for me at least three times. Maybe more.”

“Three?” You ask breathlessly.

“Probably more.” His dark eyes glitter with mischief, “I missed you, and need to taste you.”

You’re definitely not going to be able to walk when he finishes.

You can’t wait.

[just-here-with-my-thoughts]

Injured / Lula

@summer-of-bad-batch week 2 main prompt / week 8 alt prompt

Fandom: The Bad Batch Characters: Cadet Wrecker, Ninety-Nine Cadet Batch as featured in my WIP fic 'Pieces of the People We Love' - haven't read it? This is a retelling of a section from Part 2 from Wrecker's POV. All you need to know is that Ninety-Nine was originally an enhanced cadet from Crosshair's batch, and Wrecker is the only survivor from his batch. Wrecker is younger than the others. Word Count: ~1130 Read Here on AO3

Synopsis: Alone and recovering from an injury that might lead to his decommissioning, Wrecker gets an unexpected visitor, and an unexpected friend.

Wrecker was four years old. Hyper-accelerated growth put him in the body of a sixteen-year-old, although developmentally he was closer to twelve.

He might not get any older.

The blaster which had misfired by his head spidered laser-burns across the left side of his face. Bacta bandages swathed his skin and covered his left eye and ear, but despite the fact that noise now seemed muffled to him, one conversation cut through loud and clear.

They were talking about decommissioning him.

The only thing that had stayed the decision this long was that he was the last of his batch – the last clone in the experimental unit with enhanced strength, superior stamina.

Eventually it was decided to give him a chance to recover. To see if his injuries affected the long-term viability of his use as a clone trooper.

It was a reprieve that came with the promise of execution. If he wasn’t up to standard, death would simply come later rather than sooner.

*

Sound seemed distant and numb, and the periphery of his vision was blurry and shadowed. Cool air whispered across his newly shorn scalp, hair buzzed to nothing to make his injury easier to treat.

The entire left side of his face pulsed with dull, persistent pain, bared from bandages now to expose the angry, swollen burn-lines which leaked fluid onto his red and blistered skin. Heat from the burns radiated from the side of his head, and the rest of him burned too as fever set into his body, complicating his recovery.

He asked for his brothers. Cried, tears leaking out his damaged eye, as he begged for Crosshair, or even Tech, to be here with him.

His pleas were ignored. His squad-mates were not considered vital to his recovery.

It was deemed more important to keep them apart from him, so as not to disrupt their training regimen; especially if Wrecker might not ever rejoin them.

The only clones he saw were other defective clones assigned orderly duties, silently cleaning the medbay between visits from medical droids and Kaminoan scientists. Those visits left him frightened and distraught, convinced that every checkup would be the one when they decided that his recovery was more effort than it was worth.

That they would start again, use his genetic template on a new batch of enhanced clones, and terminate the original.

*

“Wrecker.”

It was the first voice in a week which had spoken his name, not his number.

“Wrecker?”

“’m awake,” he mumbled, rubbing a forearm tiredly across the right side of his face. His cheeks were still pink-tinged with fever, eyes glassy and too-bright. The voice sounded familiar.

A smiling face greeted him as he blinked to full wakefulness. The lopsided features, starting to show lines of age, tugged at something in the distant recesses of his memory.

“’Nother test?” asked Wrecker sleepily, starting to shuffle to the edge of the bed.

“No, vod’ika,” said the clone. “Came to check on you, seeing as your other brothers can’t. How are you doing?”

The endearment only caused more confusion, but Wrecker abandoned the mystery of his visitor’s identity as he was reminded of his misery. “’m lonely,” he snuffled, “an’ scared.”

The maintenance clone sat on the end of the bed, one hand patting his shoulder fondly. “I’ll sit with you a while. How does that sound?”

Wrecker only nodded. He still wasn’t sure who his visitor was, but he was tired and sick and his injury itched abominably as the healing process began and it was a relief to crawl into the other clone’s lap, curling up against his chest like a child even if he was in a teenaged body.

Arms folded around him in a gentle embrace as he was rocked against a shoulder hunched from scoliosis. Closing his eyes, Wrecker let himself be lulled back to sleep.

*

The next time his visitor came, Wrecker was bouncing with excitement.

“Ninety-Nine!”

He charged at the bowed clone, almost bowling him off his feet.

Ninety-Nine only laughed, catching Wrecker’s enthusiastic hug and steering him back into the room. “Feeling better I see,” he grinned, lopsided in his ageing face. “And you recognise me this time. I take it that means your fever has broken.”

Wrecker nodded fervently. “I’m feelin’ loads better,” he declared, trying to peer past Ninety-Nine and out the door. “Where’s Crosshair? Is he allowed t’see me?”

“Crosshair’s not here,” said Ninety-Nine gently, grimacing as Wrecker’s face fell. “But I brought you something to keep you company.”

Wrecker’s eyes went wide as his brother produced a contrivance of black and red fabric, the same material their cadet clothes were made from. He reached out for it eagerly, squishing the lumpily stuffed body between his hands as he turned it this way and that.

Sewn in white onto the things head, a mournful-looking face stared back at him. The faintly serious look the toy gave him made him laugh.

“What is it?” he asked.

“It’s a tooka,” said Ninety-Nine with a smile, “or it’s supposed to be. One of the other maintenance clones said he’d read that tooka purring helped with the healing process. I can’t smuggle a real tooka onto Kamino for you, so this is the closest thing I could manage.”

Breaking into a grin, Wrecker crushed the stuffed toy against his chest. “I love it,” he declared, voice muffled as he smooshed his face into the fabric. “Can I keep it?”

“I made it for you, Wrecker. It’s a gift. It’s yours.”

Wrecker’s eyes went wide. Clones rarely accumulated personal belongings – even the enhanced cadets knew that. “Really?”

“Really,” said Ninety-Nine, his smile turning just a little sad. He sat on the bed and gestured for Wrecker to sit beside him, fussing his little brother’s shorn head and petting the buzz of his hair. “I can’t follow you everywhere. Haven’t been able to for years now.” Two years, but with their accelerated ageing it seemed even longer. “This little friend can go where I can’t. Keep you company, so you don’t get lonely.”

“I’m gonna love her like she’s a real tooka,” promised Wrecker, volume increasing with his enthusiasm. “She’s the best thing I ever had!”

“You’ll have to give her a name,” joked Ninety-Nine, amused by Wrecker’s instant assumption about the toy. “She can’t stay as ST-0001 forever.”

“Huh?”

“Stuffed Toy One.”

Wrecker guffawed, the first laugh since his injury. With the new tooka toy in one arm, he threw the other round Ninety-Nine’s neck, hugging his big brother hard.

“I love her, Ninety-Nine. I love you.”

Ninety-Nine only smiled, holding his little brother back, remembering when he was small.

“I love you too, Wrecker.” His voice ached, but his words carried a smile. “Always will, wherever you go.”

And another @sweetspicybingo prompt complete!

[a-k-a-l-i]

The Skywalker Invasion

The Arrival

Got this on all the popular websites, check me out there!

Palpatine believes he will win when he gathers a grand army of various Sith, though unbeknownst to him, the Force gathers an army of their own. The descendants of Anakin Skywalker travel through time to aid the patriarch of the powerful clan. Through family chaos, will the Force ever be balanced?

~~~~~~~~

CHAPTER 1

Aayla Secura

“General Secura! There are more battle droids southwest from here!” Commander Bly found his way to his general’s side. Aayla blocked a blaster bolt that was aimed at his head.

“Thank you, General.”

“No need to thank me, Commander, just be sure to keep up,” she teased slightly.

The 327th yelled, blasting their way through the battle droids. Many clones fell, but that didn’t stop them. Force jumping over an Octuptarra droid, Aayla sliced off the legs and cut the body in half.

She whipped her head around gauging the battlefield, she will need backup, and she needs it fast. 

I could always use another Jedi to help, she thought wryly.

Activating her commlink, she sent a message to her commander, “we need backup, contact the Jedi Temple for assistan–” Aayla dodged a missile that was headed for her. It blew up, sending her flying a few hundred feet from her original spot.

She picked herself up when a powerful tremor through the Force knocked her off balance. She knew that such raw power could be felt from all over the galaxy. The only time she felt power like this is when Anakin Skywalker tended to unleash a powerful Force ability. 

“–neral, General! Come in, Aayla!”

Groaning, the blue Twi’lek held her head, trying to stop the oncoming headache. 

“I’m here, Commander, just getting myself into trouble is all,” she blinked rapidly.

“Hopefully not too much trouble, we need you here, there…has been an anomaly, someone just appeared out of nowhere.”

“Of course, I will be there shortly, Secura out,” using the Force, she ran towards the Republic base. 

Clone troopers saluted the minute she arrived. Nodding in acknowledgement, she headed to the comm room where she saw Commander Bly, a few clones, and an unknown blonde man wearing a lightsaber clipped to his belt.

“General Secura,” Bly and the other clones said respectively. The mysterious man looked at her, his brown eyes scanning her from head to toe.

“These…troopers tell me you’re the general?” He asked gruffly. Aayla nodded.

“And you are?”

“Cade, Cade Skywalker.”

Aayla and Bly shared a look of unadulterated surprise.

“I’m sorry, but did you say Skywalker?” 

The man sighed, “yes, Skywalker, I know what you’re thinking and I do mean the legendary name Skywalker.”

“I must admit, Cade…there has only been one Skywalker and we would’ve known if there was another, especially with your abilities.”

Cade narrowed his eyes, “there are plenty of Skywalkers roaming the galaxy, and if not by name then by blood. What I want to know, General, is why there are clones fighting a sithload of battle droids!”

Bly coughed in his hand, “you mean you don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“We’re in the Clone Wars, Cade,” Aayla said, watching his face lose color.

“W-what.”

~~~~~~~~

Adi Gallia

Just having won the battle, many clones headed to the aircraft where they will be transported back to the base.

Crossing her arms in concentration, Adi tried to find the source of the Force tremor that happened moments ago, when a cry of shock from her troopers caused her to open her eyes. She brought out her lightsaber, but did not ignite it. 

A woman fell through a blueish portal above the base. Adi used the Force to bring her down gently. The woman’s brown hair covered her face, but her breathing was steady.

“We need a medic!” Cried Adi. 

Coming to her aid, a clone medic removed the woman’s hair from her face to check her pulse, “she is fine, nothing seems to be out of the ordinary.”

Adi searched the woman and noticed a lightsaber hanging from her belt, along with a blaster. Just as she was moving to retrieve it, the woman’s right hand grabbed hers. Recoiling in shock, Adi removed her hand, watching the brown haired woman’s eyes snap open.

“Who are you?” Came the remark.

“I am Jedi Master Adi Gallia, and you are?”

Sitting up, the woman glared at the Jedi Master, “I’m Ania Solo, and I don’t remember you being part of the Jedi Order.”

The Tholothian gave her a kind smile, “I could say the same to you, young one, I don’t remember a Solo ever being administered in the Jedi Temple.”

The clone medic gave Ania a hand, which she gladly took.

“I’m not really a Jedi, I left a long time ago, I just rebuilt a new lightsaber.”

Adi nodded in approval, “which you have done a fine job constructing, if you don’t mind why don’t we head to my base? There we can talk in a little more comfort than here.”

Ania mulled over the offer for a slight minute, “I don’t see why not.”

A Republic Cruiser flew over their heads as they were walking inside. 

“You claimed you did not remember me being part of the Jedi Order when you said you left a long time ago. How do you know I wasn’t at the Temple when you left?” Adi questioned, folding her arms in front of her. 

Ania’s brown eyes took in the base, watching the officers all have the same face.

“How about I do the talking here?” She suddenly said, after a moment of silence, “What’s with everyone looking the same? Are they clones?”

Master Gallia gave a sigh, “they are as a matter in fact, but since I hold the higher title, I believe you should answer.”

Ania snorted, “Of course, master, I would’ve remembered you being there, I know most of the Jedi Masters there. Either way, I was a Jedi Knight when I decided to leave, the family legacy was getting to me.”

“What legacy?” Now looking intrigued, Adi had a thoughtful look on her face.

“Why, the Skywalker legacy, even though I’m not one by name, I am a Skywalker by blood. It was either being a Jedi or being a political figure, it doesn't matter if you’re a senator or part of some royal family.”

“Skywalker!? That’s impossible.”

“Hey now, I get it, that’s why I don’t talk about my family, makes everyone go bug-eyed and star-struck,” she rolled her eyes as she said this, it was clear she didn’t want to talk about it.

“Of course, why don’t you stay here and rest? I will be back shortly for some answers.”

Ania nodded and followed a clone, muttering to herself.

The Jedi Master closed her eyes once again, if what the newcomer said was true, then Anakin Skywalker would have a lot of explaining to do.

Walking to the communication room, the door shut behind her.

~~~~~~~~

Jedi Temple

Luke Skywalker and Mara Jade knew the Force was up to no good again when they found themselves at the Jedi Temple, looking as if it hadn't been destroyed over twenty years ago.

“Well, Farmboy, what have you gotten us into this time?” her red hair swished as she took in her surroundings, Luke only shook his head.

“I feel presences I haven’t felt since…I was nineteen,” he muttered. Green eyes looked at him in sympathy.

“...I heard voices over here…”

Two pairs of eyes snapped to the door.

“We’re gonna get caught..”

“Sithspit, Skywalker, let’s go.”

They exited the room and made their way around several corridors, trying to avoid as many Jedi as they could. They made a left turn and ran into a dark-skinned bald man and a small, green troll.

Luke’s jaw went slack with surprise while Mara groaned in annoyance.

“Great, just great, here comes the interrogation.”

~~~~~~~~

Senate Rotunda

Senator Mon Mothma’s office

“The Chancellor may be on to us, we have to vote him out of here, he has been in this position way too long,” Bail exclaimed, his hand stroking his beard.

“As long as this war is going on, we can’t do anything,” Padmé  said, her fingers typing quickly on her datacomputer, “we must end this war, it’s the only way.”

“If I might make a suggestion, none of us is close with Chancellor Palpatine, maybe we could get someone to give him the notion, surely–” Mon was cut off when a loud noise was heard.

Onaconda Farr was quick to walk over to the closet that was in Mon Mothma’s office.

“Be careful, Senator Farr, it could be a spy,” Mon warned.

The Rodian senator placed his hand on the button, the door opened and out tumbled a small young girl with brown hair holding a nexu.

Many senators who were present gasped.

“Who is she?”

“How did she get here?”

“Is that a nexu?”

Padmé  rushed over, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling of seeing a nexu again. She brushed the girl’s hair away, and noticed a striking resemblance between them.

“Who is this Padmé? She looks like you,” Bail noted with surprise. The young female senator only shrugged in response.

“I-I’m not sure, Bail, Uncle Ono, help me move her to the couch.” The two male senators complied, lifting the girl gently as possible. Just as her back hit the plush couch, her eyes snapped open.

“Who are you!? Where am I!?” she gasped out, the nexu was still unconscious so the young girl brought the beast closer to her chest.

“You’re at the Senate Rotunda, may we ask for your name?” Mon asked warmly, giving the brunette a small, comforting smile.

“M-my name is Allana Solo…and you are?” Allana blinked, watching the different beings, all dressed in extravagance and perfection, in the room.

“I am Senator Mon Mothma, this is Senator Onaconda Farr, Senator Bail Organa, and Senator Padmé Amidala,” the red headed senator listed off the names of the other senators in the room, but she noticed that young Allana eyes widened at the names Bail Organa and Padmé Amidala.

“B-But…you’re supposed to be dead. You’re all supposed to be dead!” 

~~~~~~~~

Senate Rotunda

Chancellor’s office

Leia didn’t know what to do, which was surprising, but not impossible. When she opened her eyes and saw the Supreme Chancellor’s office, she became confused. This room was drenched in darkness, darkness that she hasn’t felt in a long while. 

“Great. Just when I thought all this Force mambo-jumbo was all dealt with!” Han grumbled out, stretching his neck. 

“Han!” Leia wrapped her arms around him.

“Woah, it’s always good to know you missed me, Princess, any idea what’s happening?”

“No, I don’t,” she shook her head, releasing him,“let’s go, we need to make a plan…hopefully we come across someone we recognize.”

“What do you mean? Are we not in our galaxy?” shouted Han, Leia covered his mouth with her hand.

“Shh! And I think we are, but…it feels different, there’s darkness here, everywhere.”

“Right…” he mumbled.

They left the room, she was grateful they weren’t seen. Walking through the corridor, Leia thanked the Force she hadn’t changed from her senatorial wear, she blended in perfectly. 

We need to find a way out of here and fast, she thought, her eyes dashing around, spotting every door on this floor.

Han muttered talking about stuffy senators and confusing rooms. She elbowed him, though she didn’t allow him to see the smile that appeared on her face.

She opened a door that led to the Galactic Senate Chamber where they witnessed the room erupting in applause. Leia gasped out and covered her mouth not wanting to draw attention to herself. 

“What is it?” Han asked, confused. Leia pointed to the center of the room, his face paled slightly.

There in the Chancellor’s seat was none other than Sheev Palpatine.

Her mind raced a mile a minute, what happened? How could this happen? Darth Vader killed him, Luke said so. Yet here he was, smiling as if he had never died in the first place. Smiling as the Galactic Senate continued to eat out of his palm. Smiling as he knew, he had the galaxy under his fingers.

Leia was about to run off when a bright light surrounded the room, the Force once again bursted with power. A woman, dressed in clothes fit only for royalty with a single gold band around her head, fell through and landed, quite painfully, on the chancellor’s seat. 

Her groan could be heard throughout the room.

“W-where am I? Who are you?”

Chancellor Palpatine smiled a grandfatherly smile, “you’re in the Galactic Senate Chamber, my dear, and who are you?”

The woman looked confused, gazing around the room, “I am Empress Marasiah Fel, of the Fel Empire.”

Han furrowed his eyebrows, “another empire?”

A senate pod drew closer, “where is this empire located? We have never heard of it,” A dark skinned man spoke, an Alderaanian accent present.

“The galaxy is the Fel Empire,” the woman’s delicate hand went up to her head, “I am the empress of the galaxy,” her voice now set firm with authority.

Leia, who was quiet during the exchange, let out a startled gasp, along with thousands of other voices.

~~~~~~~~

Anakin Skywalker

“Come on, Snips, keep up, we have a score to settle,” the Jedi Knight laughed, slicing battle droids left and right. Said girl scowled, leaping from her spot, twirled in the air, and landed a final strike on a droideka.

“Master, you’re cheating, we said no Force powers,” Ahsoka pressed, blocking a blaster bolt five inches from her face.

“Nothing is fair in war, and besides, a little cheating is fun here and there,” Anakin smirked once again leading the way. Ahsoka groaned.

“Cheer up, kid, you might catch the general in surprise,” Rex said, appearing at her side.

“Hardly anything catches him by surprise, Rex,” she rolled her eyes.

“Retreat! Retreat!” Battle droids turned around, fleeing the battlefield. Cheers became louder as the clones chased the last of the clankers away.

The togruta padawan’s grin fell from her face as she felt a warning through the Force.

“What’s–oof!” 

A boy landed on her, muttering strings of apologies.

“I’m really sorry, I don’t know how I got here,” he helped her up and bowed slightly. 

Ahsoka’s cheeks were dusted a light pink, “it’s alright…” she coughed and regained her bearings, “just who are you anyway?”

“Ah,” the red headed boy scratched his neck, “I’m Ben Skywalker.”

Her eyes nearly bugged from her head, “w-what.”

“I know, son of the famous Luke Skywalker, it’s no big deal. But what’s with the…clone army?”

“Ahsoka, who’s your new friend?” Anakin came from behind her, assessing the newcomer. 

“Master…meet…Ben Skywalker…”

Many clones stopped their conversation, now turning their attention to the newly revealed Skywalker. Anakin’s face was written with sheer surprise.

“Skywalker? I don’t remember any Skywalkers with red hair,” coughed Anakin, his hands on his hips.

Ben chuckled, “I got my hair from my mom, but I have the Skywalker blue eyes though, at least, that’s what my mom calls it.”

And he was right, Ben’s eyes were nearly identical to Anakin’s.

“We need to contact the Jedi Temple.”

The boy winced, “Er, I highly doubt my parents will be pleased, just tell them it was a mistake.”

“Are you not a Jedi? Why do you think we would contact your parents? ”Ahsoka looked confused, glancing at the lightsaber on his belt.

It was Ben’s turn to be confused, “my parents are on the council, my dad is the grandmaster…what’s going on?” he demanded. Anakin pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Grandmaster?” Squeaked Ahsoka.

“This just got a whole lot weirder.  Snips, take him to the cafeteria in the Republic Cruiser, I need to send in a report. Rex, watch these two for me, will ya?” 

The clone captain took off his helmet and saluted, “sir, yes sir.” Anakin nodded and joined a few clones in a Low Altitude Assault Transport.

“Meet me when you’re finished, Ahsoka.”

The door snapped shut and flew off.

“Your name’s Ahsoka?” Ben wondered.

“Yeah, Ahsoka Tano. That was my master, Anakin Skywalker.”

The boy laughed as the trio entered their own transport.

“What’s so funny, kid?” A clone trooper asked.

“Ahsoka said her master was Anakin Skywalker.”

She looked unimpressed, “well he is, and you just saw him, what’s so hard to believe? You two share the same name, so what’s the big idea?”

Other clones nodded in agreement.

“Oh, you misunderstood me,” Ben said, collecting himself, “The reason why I’m laughing is because if he really is Anakin Skywalker then he would be my grandfather, who died over twenty years ago.”

The silence was loud in the transport.

“He’s your WHAT!?”

~~~~~~~~

Obi-wan Kenobi

“This is disturbing,” the older man said, stroking his beard.

Three children rocked back and forth on their heels.

“Well it’s true!” The youngest boy exclaimed, “I’m Anakin Solo!”

“And you were named after who?” Obi-wan questioned. The female sighed as the older boy explained.

“Anakin is named after our grandfather, Anakin Skywalker.”

“He must be getting old, Jacen,” the girl whispered, “I think he needs those hearing specials.”

Jacen nodded, “you’re right, Jaina.”

Obi-wan’s eye twitched, if these children were claiming to be the offspring…or rather great offspring of Anakin, then they inherited the talent of poking jabs at people.

“Cody, set course to Coruscant, I have a feeling this galaxy will either be doomed or saved, depending on how one looks at it.” 

Cody saluted.

“Let’s go, children, we’re heading to the Jedi Temple,” Obi-wan said. The Solo kids cheered, chatting words like “Uncle Luke…training…pranks…”

Force help him, he hopes this was nothing but a prank and Anakin did not reproduce…and that his offspring didn’t reproduce, for this galaxy will truly need help.

The clone commander smirked under his helmet, chuckling silently. 

Oh, this was pure comedy.

Obi-wan commanded the ship with full authority. Left and right, men ran in all directions.

The battle may be over, but with this new anomaly, it required his full attention. Nothing can go wrong.

Anakin walked to the bridge holding multiple parts that Obi-wan’s face paled.

“Anakin, what is this!?”

The young boy gazed at the older Jedi, his face turning into a pout.

“I noticed that this was wired wrong so I decided to come here and educate whoever was in charge,” he grinned, “ this would’ve blown everyone up in pieces.”

Jacen and Jaina nodded in agreement.

“He’s right, Uncle Obi, I’m disappointed,” Jaina tsked.

Uncle Obi? A small sigh left his lips, he will demand a day’s full rest and another day full of meditation. Anakin’s great offspring is just as tiring and troublesome as he was .

What about his offspring? He buried the thought the moment it came, he refused to even think about it. The Force bursted again, Obi-wan lowered his head, this has been going on all day, whatever could it be now?

“Jacen! Jaina! No playing with lightsabers inside the ship!”

Anakin whined with disappointment when an officer took away the ship’s parts.

“You need me to fix this disaster!” 

~~~~~~~~

Plo Koon

The Wolf Troopers surrounded two older men, though they held their fire.

One of the men, with white hair, lit his lightsaber, a yellow color illuminated his face, while the other man, slightly younger than the first, ignited his blue lightsaber.

Commander Wolffe raised his gun higher, his team following his lead.

“Hold your fire,” Plo Koon walked to the circle, “state your names, we are not enemies.”

Sharing a look, the men defused their lightsabers, but still held them in their palms.

“I am Bantha Rawk–”

“Oh, enough with that bantha poodoo of a name,” the younger man drawled, “I’m Jedi Master Kol Skywalker, and this is my older brother, Jedi Master Nat Skywalker. Forgive us, we mean no harm.”

Nat glared at his younger brother, “I don’t want attention drawn to me.” Kol waved him off.

Commander Wolffe faltered slightly, “did you say Skywalker?”

“Great, now our location is known, who knows who will come and try to kidnap us.”

“I was unaware Anakin Skywalker had any other relatives in the Order, General Koon,” a clone trooper commented.

“He doesn’t, much less is related to anyone who is a Jedi Master,” Plo brought a hand to his chin, deep in thought.

“Anakin Skywalker?” Nat interjected. Plo Koon looked in his direction.

“He’s dead, it must be another one then,” Kol mused.

“No one in this family has named any of their children after Anakin Skywalker, besides the Solos,” insisted Nat.

“Please enlighten me, why would you believe Anakin Skywalker is dead?” 

Kol raised an eyebrow, “because, we’re his descendants, and he’s been dead for over ninety years.”

Shocked with the newly found revelation, the clones completely dropped their arms. Though highly unprofessional, they knew the elder Skywalkers would not harm them.

“We must head to the Jedi Temple at once,” Plo Koon turned around suddenly, leading the way.

The two brothers shrugged and followed him.

~~~~~~~~

The Force seemed to laugh jovially, there will be balance at last. Their son needs all the help he can get, especially after the Sith Lord almost cheated his way to victory, but it wouldn’t happen on their watch.