#clone trooper fanfiction

[justaparsec94]

Strings

Summary: You have a pretty good thing going with the straight-laced Commander. But when feelings start to get thrown into the mix things get a little messy.

Pairing: Wolffe x fem!reader

Word Count: 4,969

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Minors be gone, Explicit

Author's Note: This is mostly just porn with feelings and a tiny smattering of plot. Written for the prompt: Topless and face down kiss on the shoulder.

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You had told yourself that the last time had been just that, the last time. You’d promised yourself over and over again that it wouldn’t happen again, couldn’t happen again. Sure, the sex had been so mind-blowingly good that the thought of never having it again made you want to consider swearing off men for the rest of your life. But that wasn’t the point. The point was that he’d made it very clear that sex was all it would ever be. ‘No strings attached’ his gravelly voice had ground out against your ear as he had pinned you to the wall that very first time. And you’d wholeheartedly agreed, you didn’t need the messiness that came along with a relationship. You just wanted him. At first, it had been good, better than good, it had been great. But somewhere along the way, after all the amazing sex and between the backroom meet-ups, feelings had crept their way into the mix, much to your annoyance. 

You couldn’t even blame him, he was completely resolute in his decision to remain no strings attached. It seemed unfortunately that your heart was the traitorous one in this relationship and that was how you had come to the conclusion that the last time had been the last time. You knew yourself well enough to stop things before you went and did something completely foolish, like fall in love. 

At least, this is what you’d told yourself. 

You’d been prepared for his arrival at 79’s, heard through the clone grapevine that the 104th had returned to Coruscant. You’d practiced your strongest look in the mirror before your shift, ensuring your features could school themselves into cool disinterest. The speech you’d had prepared had been memorized. Short and to the point, no opportunity to improvise. A gentle rebuttal to let him know this thing between the two of you could no longer continue. You’d been determined to end it. 

Of course, you hadn’t really accounted for just how handsome he truly was in person. Your memory had never really done him justice and seeing him again had proved just how much bantha poodoo you were already in when it came to him. Your resolve had crumbled the instant he’d walked through the door, grey and white armour still in place, Kama swinging around his hips, the silver of his prosthetic eye glinting in the flashing lights of 79’s. Yup, you were well and truly kriffed. 

He hadn’t immediately come over to where you were serving up drinks at the bar, but your eyes, as usual, had followed him the entire time as he made his way around. As a Commander he was a notable figure, the men around him parted in respect, heads nodding in acknowledgment as he moved about the bar. He stopped every once and a while to speak with other clones but it didn’t take long before he was standing before you at the bar, the barest hint of a smirk on his face as your eyes connected. 

“What can I get for you, Commander?” You had been impressed with your ability to sound casual despite feeling as though you were about to crawl out of your own skin at any moment as his dark gaze swept over you.

“The usual,” The look in his brown eye had made it clear he was not talking about a drink. 

Your entire body had felt as if it was engulfed in flames as he looked at you. Fleetingly you’d remembered something about a speech, but all words were lost and you had given him an almost indistinguishable nod without another thought.  

And that was how you found yourself in your current situation. Two standard hours later, sitting on the end of your bed in your small apartment, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you watched Wolffe remove his armour piece by piece. Unable to let go of him despite knowing it would be the best before he completely wrecked you. 

It wasn’t just the intimacy though that had you unable to resist him, even though it was admittedly the best you’d ever had, it was the moments between and after too. The moments when you’d fall back in bed beside one another, satiated and panting. When the walls between you would crumble and you’d talk for hours about anything and everything as the night would wear on. It was those moments where you’d get him to smile, or pull a rare chuckle from him. When you’d look over at him and his gaze would be warm, his face relaxed, the stress of his life forgotten for a moment, and looking as young as he actually was. You loved those moments just as much, if not more than the intimate ones. You were falling in love with him. No matter how hard you tried to push it away it was undeniable. 

He was so beautiful. So much so that it was as if he’d walked straight off the screen of one of your favourite holo dramas. You drank the sight of him in greedily, the deep bronze of his skin, the strong slope of his shoulders, the dark hair covering the broad expanse of his chest, the lines of his abdomen trailing down in a v to his hips. No matter how many times the two of you had done this the sight of him never failed to make you flush. 

You stood as he slowly approached the bed, your dressing gown slipping from your shoulders and pooling around your feet in a silky puddle. His gaze was hungry as it roved over your body, the look making your insides squirm pleasantly. You were already wet with anticipation and you clamped your thighs together to create some friction as he stopped in front of you, so close that your chests were nearly touching. He was always so warm and his hand burned pleasantly against your skin as he reached up to touch you, trailing sensuously down from the base of your throat to your hip. His grip against your hip was firm as his eyes roved your face, as though he were searching for something in your expression. 

The look made you nervous, as though he could see the traitorous feelings that had been growing in you over the past few months. But you did your best to keep your features schooled despite the small part of you that reminded you this was a bad idea, that you had decided to put a stop to this so he couldn’t find out. However, that logical part was almost completely drowned out by the need coursing through your body. You wanted him so badly and in that moment you were willing to take whatever he would give you. 

“What do you want?” His voice was so low it rumbled straight from his chest, the sound sent a tingle through your spine. 

He always asked the question and your answer was always the same, “You.” 

He didn’t need to know that your answer had begun to take on new meaning over the past few months. 

An involuntary squeak left your mouth as he lifted you straight off the ground, your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively bringing your bodies even closer together. He moved until his knees hit the bed before he gently tossed you down onto it as though you weighed nothing at all. You landed with a giggle, heart racing in your chest as you grinned up at him. You only just caught a flash of his answering grin before he was on top of you, teeth nipping at your neck as his hands roamed your body. You felt yourself come alive under his touch, no one had ever made you feel the way he did. 

He spread your legs with a rough touch, slotting himself between your thighs as his hands moved to your knees to keep you in place. He leaned back slightly, his gaze dark and devouring as it roved your body. His look alone was enough to have you shivering as you were spread beneath him.

He leaned forward again, his mouth nipping at your ear gently as he spoke in that irresistibly rough voice of his, “You are so beautiful.” 

You shivered again as his one hand slipped up your thigh, moving achingly slow towards your core, “I couldn’t keep my eyes off you all night,” He continued as your eyes slipped closed, you bit your lip to try and keep a moan from escaping you as his hand finally dipped into your folds, “It should be a crime for you to look that good.” 

This time you were unable to stop your moan as his calloused fingers brushed over your clit, slowly and methodically. It took all of the strength you possessed to open your eyes once more to meet his gaze as he continued to explore every inch of you, “It was all just for you.” It was true, when you had chosen your work outfit for the night he had been the only one on your mind. And it had been worth it, you’d felt his eyes on you the entire night while you finished your shift. 

His gaze grew darker and a low rumble sounded in his throat at your words. The sound drove you wild and you tilted your hips, aching for him to touch you more, to build the friction between the two of you. You wanted him so baldly. No matter how many times the two of you did this that ache never seemed to lessen. Your need was nearly blinding and you panted with need beneath him. His pace remained the same despite it, slow and methodical as he slipped two fingers into your slick core, thumb rubbing against your clit as you mewled with pleasure.  

“Wolffe…” You whined as he brought you closer to the edge, though not enough to tip you fully over. It was maddening but at the same time, you never wanted him to stop. Your knees clamped around his hips, pulling him closer to you, determined to keep him in place but you weren’t strong enough to stop him as he leaned back, hand going with him and leaving you desperate. 

You pouted up at him, but he only smirked down at you, his brown and silver eyes winking in the light of the passing speeders outside. 

“Easy, darling,” He purred, which was enough to have you pressing your legs together once more, seeking the friction you had lost. He chuckled lowly at the sight of you writhing in front of him before he reached a hand out to your hip, gently guiding you up from the bed. 

“Flip over,” He rumbled, his hand squeezing you gently as your heart raced in your chest. 

You did as you were told, flipping over on shaky legs as he continued to guide your hips up until you were kneeling on the bed. You could feel the heat radiating off of Wolffe from where he was standing behind you. His length was long and hard against your thigh as he leaned over you, hand sliding gently across your skin and making you shudder. His fingers found your core once more, gliding over your entrance for a moment before his thumb found you clit. You gasped, hands gripping at the bed sheets as you leaned further into him, it was at once too much and not enough. He truly was going to be the death of you. 

You felt as if you were going to combust, lost in the sensation of his hand on you, the heat of him pressed against your back. You were rapidly climbing towards your release, desperate to tip over into pleasure. 

He nipped at the junction between your neck and shoulder, your back arching up into him at the sensation of his teeth against your skin. You moaned loudly as he slid two fingers inside of you, your cunt instantly clutching around him as the welcome intrusion. His thumb continued to work against your clit as he curled his fingers inside of you, hitting that spot that had you seeing stars. You felt as if your body was on fire, the sensations overwhelming and you panted, your breaths ragged as he continued his ministrations. 

“Wolffe…” You gasped as his thumb continued to massage your clit, his fingers curling and relaxing inside of you as you hurtled toward your release. Tease gathered in the corners of your eyes at the overwhelming sensation, you were so close. 

Your body was trembling beneath him, breathing ragged as you felt the slick of your cunt running over his fingers and down your legs. 

He pressed even further into you, every line of his body meeting yours perfectly as he continued to fuck you with his fingers, “That’s it, sweetheart, let me hear you,” His voice rumbled through his chest and straight into you.

“Wolffe…” You gasped, barely able to speak with how close you were. 

He chuckled and then suddenly he was nipping at your neck once more.

And that was all it took. The feeling of his teeth against you once more sent you tumbling over the edge and you came hard against his fingers. Moaning loudly, stars popping behind your eyes as your cunt fluttered around his fingers as your orgasm ripped through you. You tipped forward slightly as your limbs went limp with your release but as always, Wolffe had you. With his free hand, he wrapped a strong arm around your middle, keeping you upright as you rode out the waves of your orgasm. 

You moaned once more, eyes still squeezed shut as his fingers slid out of you. You instantly missed him but before you could even protest he had shifted once more above you and you groaned as you felt the head of his cock glide through your slick to nudge against your cunt. You had barely come down from your first high but the sensation of him pressing against you had your stomach tightening once more in anticipation. 

He pressed slowly into you, giving you the time to adjust to his size. You pressed back into him, groaning as his length filled you so completely, at the friction building in you once more. Your hands fisted in the bed sheets once more as his hands gripped your hips, guiding you slowly over his cock, almost torturously. 

He swore lowly under his breath, fingers tightening on your hips, pressing groves into your skin as you slowly met him thrust for thrust. 

You moaned, head tipping down towards your chest as your back ached up into him, pressing back to feel every inch of him. He moaned, your name escaping from between his teeth as a hiss before he pulled all the way out before slamming back in. The sound of his hips slapping against your ass filled the room, and your hold on the sheets tightened as his pace went from slow to fast in an instant. 

His body bent over yours even more, chest pressed against you, one hand still on your hip while the other slid around to slide up your body. His large hand engulfed your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers as you gasped and panted beneath him. You had thought your first orgasm had drained you but you were quickly building to another as he thrust rapidly in and out of you, the head of his cock hitting you just right at this angle. 

Wolffe licked and nipped his way up your sweat-soaked spine, sending shudders through your body. You felt as if you were floating, every limb weightless as desired pooled in your abdomen. No one had ever made you feel the way he did. 

Your name fell from his lips once more like a prayer, his hips stuttering against you for a moment, hands pressing so hard into your flesh you knew it would leave a mark.  

Suddenly he pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder and somehow the gesture was more intimate than anything you had ever shared. It was as if a cold bucket of water had suddenly been poured over you. Your body tensed involuntarily as your thoughts went from focused entirely on your pleasure to all over the place. Your pulse raced beneath your skin and your throat contracted with panic as all of the feelings you had been trying so hard to bury rushed to the surface. 

You didn’t kiss. He was all tongue and teeth but he had never actually kissed you before. The two of you had come to some unspoken understanding that kissing would cross the no-strings-attached line. And up until that very moment, you both had abided by this rule. No matter how quick and innocent it had been it had left you completely unmoored. Your thoughts were reeling out of control, trying to find meaning in the gesture when logically you knew there likely wasn’t any. You so desperately wanted it to mean something. Your eyes blurred, stinging as your breath came out in a ragged pant. You weren’t sure who you were angrier at, him or yourself. 

Wolffe froze, clearly noticing the tension that had suddenly appeared in your body. He murmured your name, his hand gentle against your skin, but you barely heard him over your own raging thoughts. 

“I can’t -“ you finally managed to choke out, pulling away from him and rolling onto your back on the bed. Panic and embarrassment were flooding through you, your eyes burned as you looked up at the concern and confusion etched on his face. He rocked back to rest on his heels, the lines of his body holding the same tension as your own as he looked at you. 

“Are you ok?” His voice was so gentle that it made your heart break even more, “Did I hurt you?” 

“No, no of course you didn’t hurt me,” At least not physically and not intentionally. It was your own inability to remain casual that suddenly had you panicking at his touch, “I just can’t do this anymore…” 

His face was etched with confusion, dark brow furrowing above eyes that had tensed at the corners, “What do you mean?” 

“I thought I could do no strings attached. I thought I’d be fine,” You answered, unable to fully meet his gaze as your voice quivered. You steeled yourself despite wanting to do nothing more than run from the room and never see him again. But the damage was already done, the least you could do now was explain, no matter what the outcome might be, “But then you go and kiss me like that and I want more. I want you, all of you.” 

You looked up at him as you spoke the last word, searching his face for any sort of reaction despite being terrified of what you might find there. But his face remained as unreadable as always. His expression was impassive, as though you had made a comment about the weather and not essentially expressed your undying love for him. Your eyes began to burn as the silence between you stretched on unbearably long. Finally, it became too much for you to handle, the emotions inside you bubbling over as you reached up to press your hands to your face, covering your eyes as the tears pooled. You felt so embarrassed, so angry at yourself for being unable to keep your feelings for him under control. You wished a hole would open up beneath your bed and swallow you so you no longer had to experience his rejection. 

You took a shaky breath, pressing the heels of your hands into your eyes as you tried your best to get your emotions back under control. It was fine, you tried to tell yourself. You could survive this. Despite how much it hurt and despite how much you would miss him you could live without him. It was better in the long run, you tried to convince yourself, better to be hurt now than hurt even worse later on. 

The thoughts running rampant in your head were suddenly cut off by two large, calloused hands gently grasping your wrists. He pulled gently until your hands came away from your face and continued to pull until you were sitting upright in front of him. Despite your surprise at the fact that he hadn’t immediately run from the room you still couldn’t bring yourself to meet his gaze, you didn’t want him to see the tears that you knew were lingering in your eyes. 

“Hey,” He murmured softly, “Look at me,” he lifted one hand to gently rest under your chin, tipping your head up towards him. 

You had no choice but to meet his gaze, tears still threatening to fall from your eyes and your pulse raced beneath your skin. His expression was still impassive, giving away absolutely nothing of his thoughts. It made you even more nervous but you took a deep steadying breath, steeling yourself for whatever he was about to say. 

His face might not have been giving anything away, but as your eyes connected something was pooling in the depth of his brown eye that had your heart kicking into overdrive. 

He was silent for another long moment before he spoke, his voice a soft murmur, as though he were afraid to disturb the silence in your room, “You have me. You’ve had me for a long time.” 

He looked away after he spoke, as though embarrassed by his admission. But you couldn’t look away from him, stunned by his words. Was he actually saying that the entire time you’d been agonizing over your feelings for him he had been feeling the exact same way? 

Your mouth opened and closed a few times as you watched him, a hundred different things rushing through your head. Of course what finally came out was much less articulate, “You…what?”

Wolffe’s answering chuckle was a soft rumble as he turned his gaze back towards you, “You��re really going to make me say it again?” he grunted, dark brow furrowing as the corners of his mouth turned down. But there was a lightness in his brown eye that you had had the privilege of seeing only a few times before. To everyone else, Wolffe was stalwart bordering on grumpy but you knew there was a lot more lingering beneath his surface that he let very few people see it. It was just one of the many things you loved about him. Even if at this moment his aversion to outward emotional displays was driving you a bit crazy.

“I’m yours,” He repeated when it was clear you were just going to continue gaping at him silently.

You didn’t think it was possible but your heart rate seemed to pick up a notch, and your stomach tightened with the emotions that were rushing through you. You felt a flush creep its way up your neck and onto your face. But despite the emotional reaction you were having you couldn’t quite believe he meant his words the same way you did.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked finally, your voice barely above a whisper. 

He seemed to consider his words for a moment before he spoke, “You might have noticed that I’m not the best with words,” He grumbled, one brow quirking up as he looked at you, “And I was the one who insisted we keep it casual. I guess a part of me didn’t want to admit I blew it almost immediately. The other part was afraid you wouldn’t feel the same…” 

You shook your head, a sharp chuckle escaping you before you could stop it, “You stubborn ass,” Your voice was almost breathless as you moved so you were in front of him once more, knees touching, “Do you know how long I’ve been worrying about this?? I even prepared a breakup speech!”

Wolffe’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, a small smirk crossing his face, “Really? Well, let’s hear it then.”

“No!” You protested, moving again so that your hands were on him once more, slowly trailing up from his chest to rest on his jawline, cradling his face, “That speech will never see the light of day. I want you Wolffe, all of you. Only you.” 

He leaned into your touch, gaze softening once more, “C’mere,” He murmured as his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his chest. 

Without another thought you were kissing him, the space between your bodies disappearing as you straddled him on the bed. He moaned softly against you, his free hand coming up to cup the back of your head, pulling you closer as he gently nipped at your lower lip. You had pictured the first time you would truly kiss him a thousand times before, but none of your fantasies had ever come close the the real thing. You wanted him so badly that it was nearly overwhelming. 

His erection pressed against you as you licked at his lips before tangling your tongue with his own. Your kisses were needy, desperate. As though now that you had started you would never be able to get enough of one another. 

Desire raged in your core once more as your hands slid down from his face, slowly across his neck, and down to his strong chest, fingers tangling in the course hair that covered his pecs. 

Wolffe pulled away from you slightly, just enough that your eyes could meet, “Gods, I’ve wanted you for so long,” His grip on you tightened, leaving you breathless. 

“I’m yours,” You whispered back, repeating his earlier words. 

His gaze was dark and ravenous as he shifted slightly, his erection dragging against your hot and slick core. With a single easy motion, he sheathed himself inside of you, filling you so completely it left you gasping in his arms, head dipping towards your chest at the overwhelming sensation. 

He gave you a moment to adjust before he slowly began to thrust up into you, pressing kisses to your neck, jaw, lips, anywhere he could reach as you clung to him. 

You were rapidly hurtling towards an orgasm as your thrusts met his. His cock hitting that spot deep inside of you perfectly each time, your clit rubbing against the base of him with every thrust. You moaned, eyes closing as you gripped his shoulders, using them for leverage as your chest rubbed against his own. Your legs began to shake as his pace increased, thrusts turning desperate as you rode him. 

Wolffe’s head dipped to press a kiss just below your collarbone as his one hand snuck between your bodies to palm your breast. His other hand remained on your hip, guiding your thrusts, his touch almost bruising. 

You were so close it was almost unbearable, your heart fluttered beneath your skin, every inch of you feeling as if you were about to combust with each press of his lips against your skin. But you managed to open your eyes, finding his own lust-filled gaze looking back up at you as your hand trailed from his shoulder to his neck, tilting his head up towards you. 

He met you eagerly, lips crashing into your own as his thrust grew frantic. His tongue pressed into your mouth as you bucked against his hips and that was all it took for you to finally tip over the edge. Your orgasm was blinding, walls clenching sharply around his cock, as the waves of pleasure rolled through you. Every limb felt like a live wire and you tossed your head back with a moan, your grip on him the only thing keeping you tethered. 

Wolffe groaned, his thrusts losing their rhythm for a moment as your cunt continued to milk him as the waves of bliss overtook you. 

Your name was on his lips once more, a hiss of air as his hips stuttered before he came with a shudder, “Fuck, you’re perfect,” He groaned as he filled you.

You were both panting, chests rising and falling as you both rode out the waves of your combined pleasure. Wolffe leaned forward once more to kiss your shoulder, your neck, and your jaw before finding your lips once more. You raised your hands to drag your fingers through his cropped black hair as you met his kiss, pressing into him. 

He chuckled softly as he noticed your legs shake, and with a single smooth motion he wrapped his arms around you, leaning forward and then rolling you both over until you were lying side by side in your bed. You both lay there panting for a long moment, heat still pooled low in your belly from the lingering effects of your orgasm. 

Once your breathing had returned somewhat to normal you turned your head to look over at Wolffe, only to find he was already gazing at you. The smallest hint of a smile was on his face, which was essentially the Wolffe equivalent of a beaming smile. Your own face brightened before you rolled slightly to rest your head on his chest, instinctually his arm moved to wrap around you, pulling you closer as your limbs tangled together.

“You’ll stay?” You asked softly, your eyes beginning to grow heavy as the heat of his body seeped into your own. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” He replied lowly, you felt his response in his chest more than you even heard it, “Ever.”

And you believed him. You finally knew at that moment that his feelings for you were a reflection of your own. And you knew that he would do everything in his power to keep that promise to you. Forever. 

[agentarc]

i’m just gonna bite the bullet and post a wip of this fox whump fic i’m cooking

important background info: quinlan is undercover as a maintenance tech for senate droids, and he’s concealing his tattoos via makeup

also i’m genuinely always trying to improve my writing so constructive criticism is welcome

content warning for graphic panic attack and self harm by way of exacerbating injury — please let me know if there’s anything i missed

(also also hi if you like this and you’re in a clone trooper discord please invite me im dying to be social in the clone trooper fandom)

His quarters are on this floor — Fox is reasonably sure — but the distance his feet must carry him to get there stretches and warps until it may as well be a parsec away.

A good soldier would weather the storm and march on. A functioning clone wouldn’t struggle to expand his lungs, put one foot in front of the other, and navigate to his own quarters. Fox is not a functioning clone. Fox is hardly even a soldier.

He must abort mission. He will not make it to his office. He lurches for the nearest door. The keypad flashes red at him.

His knees wobble, and he’s supposed to be a soldier, a marshal commander; he’s knees don’t wobble. His knees can’t wobble, not when he needs to stand steady and lead the Guard; not when his brothers are depending on him to keep them safe. Not when his entire existence hinges on his ability to contribute. Not when he needs to face the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic and pretend he’s in full functioning order when he’s constantly grasping at the fraying edges of control. Fox doesn’t know if he’ll come back when the threads fly apart.

Time does something funny and Fox is on his knees. The keypad sparks and sizzles. The door remains tightly sealed.

“Commander?”

The world slams to a stop. His eyes fly open — when had he closed them? He’s too vulnerable, it’s not safe to fall apart here, he can’t — and a natborn human is hovering at the hallway junction, 20 steps away.

They take a half-step in his direction, and Fox doesn’t have enough control to mask his full-bodied flinch. He knows the natborn sees it because they instantly freeze, raising both their hands in a display of easy surrender.

“I’m not gonna hurt you. I just want to help.” Movements measured and slow, they lower their hands until they’re relaxed at their sides, palms facing out. “Can you tell me what happened?”

Fox can’t. Can’t push words through his teeth, can’t steady his hands, can’t take a full breath — can’t choke back the strangled noise that builds in the back of his throat —

It’s like his armor is see-through, all his cracks on full display, his skin flayed open for the natborn and the vode and all the little gods to feast. It’s not safe. He needs — he needs —

Thorn, he signs desperately, the shape of his brother’s name mangled by tremors. His fingers aren’t listening, but natborns don’t know battlesign anyway, so what’s the point? Fox is well and truly going to die. Fox is going to shake apart right here on the floor of the hallway, his heart is going to smash through his ribs, and the Chancellor will have been right about him all along. Fox is going to die and it won’t even be in the glory of battle, protecting his brothers like he’s meant to, like he wants to. Fox is going to die, and he is going to die an embarrassment; a failure to the Republic and a failure to his brothers.

“Commander,” someone says, and Fox’s attention snaps back to the stranger so fast that it rends a shock of pain through his skull. They have not come closer, but they could have — could have slid up and pricked him with a hypo or put a blaster to his head, and at this range the bolt would zip through his bucket like wet flimsi, and Fox isn’t paying enough attention, this place isn’t safe —

“My name’s Quin. I’m a maintenance tech,” the stranger continues from the junction. They speak firmly, but soft enough that their voice doesn’t echo. “You’re at Guard headquarters, on level 83, maintenance hall 7B, and you’re safe. I think you’re having a panic attack.” Their hands are still visible, but their arms are positioned in a way that suggests they had just used their commlink — to call whom? Maintenance techs don’t usually have direct lines to upper command, who did he call — “You were trying to get into that storage closet, right? I’m going to come closer and open it for you, okay?”

Fox expects them to start approaching, and he flinches reflexively, his body wound tight enough to snap right in half, but the stranger doesn’t move, yet. They watch Fox carefully, though Fox can’t make out the features of their face through his blackening vision.

He shudders through the concentrated wrongness knotted in his chest, eyeing the stranger as would a cornered, dying animal.

It’s perhaps desperation, perhaps the stranger’s disarming words, or perhaps a result of Fox having fully lost his mind that leads him to nod, once.

Only then does the stranger cautiously begin their approach, step after measured step, both their hands loose and empty and visible — a human man, Fox finally notes through the haze of his malfunction — and Fox tracks his movements as he smoothly glides into Fox’s bubble.

Fox cannot move, will not flex a single muscle, because if he does, he knows he will die. He thinks his trachea may be collapsing, gripped by some invisible force —

He jolts against phantom hands (you must stop struggling, Commander) that exist and don’t in equal measure (hold still, now) [end this smoothly, god i can’t be bothered rn]

“Almost got it,” the stranger says from somewhere above him, and Fox inhales sharply, shallowly; the exhale punches out of him with a low keening whine. It could have been seconds or cycles but eventually the man backs off in one casual, languid movement, and the door to the storage closet whooshes open.

Fox all but tumbles inside. He vaguely thinks he should be embarrassed, but as he presses his shoulders into a corner and lets his head hang between his knees, he figures that he deserves a death just as pitiful and undignified as his life was.

The trill of an incoming comm — not his own, because the Chancellor insists he not bring it to their meetings — has him whipping his head back up to attention. The man has stayed behind in the hall, standing off to one side of the open doorway. He raises his wrist comm and a bolt of terror lances through Fox at the reminder that he called someone.

“This is Commander Thorn. What’s going on?”

Fox could cry, and he probably is.

“Commander Fox is in distress. He’s safe, but I think he hurt his hand. We’re in storage closet 83-7B-A113.”

His hand? Fox flexes it and gasps with a detached sort of surprise at the burst of sensation. He hears swearing and shuffling from the other line.

“I’ll be there in 10. Do not touch him, and do not let anyone else approach.”

Fox chokes on a sob. Thorn is coming. It’s going to be okay. Thorn is coming.

“Of course.” The man signs off, but Fox isn’t watching anymore. Thorn is coming.

“Hey, Commander Fox? I’m gonna leave the door open, ‘cause the mechanism’s kind of messed up and I don’t want it locking on you.” A brief rustle of fabric, and, “I’m just gonna keep watch until Thorn gets here, yeah? I’ll head anyone else off.”

When Fox risks a glance at the doorway, the man is no longer within sight. Alarm and relief flood him in equal parts — eyes on all threats at all times, trooper, you’re not out of this yet — but despite his lack of visual on the stranger, he’s finally and blessedly alone in the storage closet.

He paws at his bucket until he remembers he will almost certainly die if he takes it off, and curls his fingers around the edge of his cuirass instead. If it weren’t for the hard plastoid, he thinks he’d sink his fingers into his chest to still his thundering heart himself. Maybe preventing it from racing around would fix him. Maybe it would kill him. Either option is preferable to the way dread creeps into every corner of his mind, every organ and limb, buzzing like holo static in his hands as they scrabble at his armored chest.

A renewed shock of feeling from his right hand abruptly pulls the world into stark contrast. It aches, maybe, behind and underneath the layers of wrongness, a single shred of reality, and he closes his fist to feel the sparks again and again.

It’s not pain — not quite. It wants to be, but Fox’s nerve endings are misfiring, severing themselves from his synapses as his body corrupts. It’s starbursts of sensation that sear through an impenetrable, suffocating fog; clashes of a cymbal to accompany the percussion of his heart and the unfaltering hum of the fluorescent lights above.

Fox understands pain, but he doesn’t understand this. He understands pain for the lessons it can teach, but he is failing to learn this lesson. He’s not sure this is pain at all. Pain is getting caught outside of cover and taking a blaster bolt to the gut, or not being fast-strong-cunning-ruthless enough on the training mats, or failing to dodge the Red Guard’s electrostaff during the Chancellor’s extracurricular lessons. Pain is useful; endurance of pain even more so. A soldier unacquainted with pain can’t function on a battlefield, or learn from critical mistakes, or (gods forbid) tolerate torture without cracking open.

If this is pain, and pain is meant to be some sort of lesson, what lesson is Fox evidentially incapable of learning? Just how defective is he? He squeezes his right hand in his left, lets the pain-not-pain fill his awareness until there’s no room left for this wicked miasma eating him alive.

Suddenly, there are hands on his wrists.

A twisted thing crawls up his throat and tears out through his teeth, and he swings, disoriented, clamoring for a single inch of control in a tumultuous storm. The grip holds fast against his thrashing until Fox abruptly registers the staccato being tapped out on his vambrace. Vod. Vod. Vod.

A brother — Thorn, Thorn is here — hovers before him, the determined set of his shoulders betraying none of the alarm Fox thinks he’d see in his eyes if he had the strength to look. “Fox,” Thorn says, “Fox’ika, I’m here. You’re safe.”

He’s not safe. He’s not, but Thorn is here and whole and keeping the danger away, and that’s not nothing.

“Let’s get your bucket off,” Thorn suggests, and then to the tense breath Fox hisses out in response, “It’s okay; Stone’s outside, he’s keeping watch. It’s safe.” And Fox believes him, because Thorn never lies to him. Thorn tells it like it is.

A snap-hiss, and Thorn gently lifts Fox’s helmet off. Cool air rushes over his face and fills his lungs.

“Good, that’s good. A couple more of those, like this.” Thorn takes a big breath, and Fox tries to copy him but his lungs are broken; the breath he takes is in starts and stops. A strangled whine squeezes out with his exhale. “I know,” Thorn says, “It’ll get easier.”

And it does. Thorn has worked his thumbs between Fox vambraces and blacks, rubbing small circles into his wrists, and it feels like everything. The lighthouse coming into view from out on a choppy sea. The anchor that keeps him tethered to the waking world. The offer of shelter from a vicious storm.

His sense of time is fractured. By the time Fox can inhale and exhale a complete breath it feels as though hours have passed, Thorn murmuring words of encouragement and squeezing gently whenever Fox starts to get sucked back into the fog.

Fox opens his eyes, and Thorn meets it with a smile. “That’s it, vod. I’m right here. Keep breathing.”

Thorn is here. It’s safe. The tension he didn’t realize was holding him together suddenly abates, rushing out of him like debris out an airlock, and he sags forward into Thorn’s waiting arms. Thorn’s free hand comes up to card through Fox’s sweaty curls, the other still encircling Fox’s wrist, as the marshal commander presses his forehead into his brother’s armored chest.

Sorry, Fox signs shakily, but he feels Thorn already shaking his head.

“Don’t you dare. You have nothing to apologize for.” Gently, as though Fox is something deserving of of reverence, Thorn removes Fox’s face from his chest and pulls him into a keldabe. They breathe in sync like this for a long, peaceful moment. “How about we go see Lore and fix your hand, and then have some midmeal in the barracks?” At Fox’s dour expression, Thorn rolls his eyes. “Alright then, let me rephrase. We’re going to medbay, and then having some midmeal in the barracks. You’ll feel better. Think you’re ready to stand?”

Fox thinks he might never be able to stand again. He does, though, and with Thorn’s support, ambles through the threshold of the supply closet. Stone sweeps in to support Fox’s other side.

The stranger is nowhere to be seen.

[bruh-myguy-what]

May I please request [WET] with Rex or Gregor or Howzer or Hunter? 🤣🙈 thank you, you wonderfully talented thing you! 💕

Hello, dear friend 😅

I'd like to formally apologize for disappearing on this ask/request for so long. I feel horrible 😓...BUT, I refused to allow that to prevent me from finishing it! SO! Almost a year later, here if your request!

Honestly, I struggled so much with picking between Howzer and Gregor haha I haven't written for any of your boys you suggested before so I felt the most comfortable with Howzer. Though, if you have any more requests, I'd be more than happy to make those about the other two 😏 Also, I started this far before season 3 came out haha sooooo, I just went with what I had mostly written.

Anyway! Here you are, friend!

The Downpour

Pairing: Captain Howzer x fem!reader

Warnings: none really? A little risqué but nothing NSFW- still not entirely my forte just yet haha, but some good kissing.

Summary: Howzer is hiding himself away, on a planet that should keep him safe until Rex and Gregor can come back for him with a few other Clone Rebels. Until then, he is at the mercy of a woman Rex had contact with to keep the clone Captain fed. But Howzer is struggling with rising feelings he never knew a military man like himself could feel.

Word Count: 3k

Though on a different planet, hiding was still a top priority to Howzer, especially now that he not only had to protect himself but you, as well. It hadn’t been long since Rex and Gregor, along with a few other rebellious clones, found a secluded place for the rogue to settle. Rex had a few connections to people in the neighboring town so Howzer had someone to help supply food or whatever he may need and that was how he stumbled upon you- the one who helped far more than he could’ve ever asked. You not only supplied food but comfort when he would have sudden bouts of panic and flashbacks of seeing his brothers die in battle. Not just comfort, but encouragement, kindness, understanding…compassion. For a clone. For someone expendable. Replaceable. However, you’d told him multiple times he wasn’t, there was no way he could understand how you’d believed that. You were so unique, so breathtakingly exotic to him, and yet…the only thing that made him any different than his brothers was the scars on his face from the battles he’d seen. Nevertheless, no matter how he’d felt about what you may have seen in him, he promised to protect you with every possible effort he could muster. You made the little shack he took shelter in a home and as reckless as the thought was, Howzer fully believed that he would prefer death before he’d let the Empire take that feeling from him. But of course, you were oblivious to all of the overwhelming affection that he scarcely kept from boiling over every time you’d show up at his door with that smile that he spent nights dreaming about.

Today was only a little different…

It was a cloudy, overcast day and Howzer assumed rain would be expected at some point in the day but being new to the region he was still growing accustomed to the exotic weather patterns. So, going about his day as he normally would, while waiting for you, he busied himself with straightening up the small shack for your arrival. There was hardly room to make a mess, though that didn’t stop the clone from feeling as if he needed to make the place as perfect for you as he could, every single time. Howzer could feel his fingers fidgeting nervously, adjusting the vase of native flora in the center of the table back and forth a few times to keep his hands busy. He’d found a bush of wild flowers a day or two ago, during his daily trek of the surrounding woods, and decided that he wanted to surprise you with them during one of your regular stop-ins. The feeling you gave him was an entirely new experience for the clone, he’d only ever known war and militia- cold nights and dangerous encounters. But you gave him gentle touches and warm smiles that brought a whole new perspective to his life- a softer perspective and he craved it.

Blinking, Howzer realized he’d been daydreaming of you once again, brought back to reality by the grounding sound of heavy rain hammering the roof above his head. Glancing out the window to see if the sound matched the actual amount of rain outside, Howzer glimpsed your silhouette amongst the trees. “She’s lost her mind!” He panicked to himself as he grabbed for his raincoat by the door, rushing out into the torrent to meet you halfway. The rogue clone shouted your name over the loud rain, bounding up to you. “Howzer!” You simply greeted him with a grin that nearly toppled him. The hand over your forehead, protecting your face from the rough battering of rain, moved to wave innocently at the man approaching you.

Once in front of one another, Howzer’s breath ragged from his sprint to you, he realized that the coat was useless, noticing how soaked through you’d become despite his efforts. Taking in your drenched figure, heat rose to warm his cheeks from the cold air when he observed how the wet fabric folded over your curves. “Seems a little silly for us both to be soaked, don’t you think, Captain?” You laughed playfully as you wiped at the water in your eyes. “I mean, look at you,” You motioned to his t-shirt that was now clinging to his well-muscled torso, taking a secret moment to admire it for yourself.

“I-uh,” he fought with his thoughts, the sight of your figure distracting him from the words he knew he needed to say to explain why he’d run out to meet you. Squeezing his eyes shut to think, he chuckled out a breath at his internal struggle. “You make me a fool, cyare. That’s my only defense.” He finally muttered against the rain, meeting your eyes with a charming smile.

Perplexed by seeing his lips move but not processing what he was saying because of the loud pattering of the rain, you blinked a few times. “Sorry, Captain” you teased his title again, “I’m afraid the rain is drowning out your voice.” Leaning to look past the larger man, you then glanced up at his face to see he was fixated on your eyes. “Maybe we should head inside, then you can tell me what you wanted to say.”

-

Once inside the humble shack, you shuffled out of the soaked jacket you had tossed on before leaving. Glancing over your shoulder at Howzer, noting that he was placing his usual paranoid locks in place, you queried, “So what was it that you said out there, Howzer?”

“Oh! Uh-“ Howzer stumbled over his words momentarily, remembering exactly what he’d unintentionally let slip, and silently praised the rain for being loud enough to cover his mistaken confession. “I-I was saying that you are incredibly insane for walking all the way here in that mess of rain.” His chuckle warmed your chilled bones as he took a seat on one of the wooden chairs at the small round table you, yourself were standing near. His honey eyes glimmered against his wet hair, which was currently plastered against his forehead, “Though, I’ve come to find that your unpredictable nature is endearing.” and the boyish grin that followed after made you surprisingly bashful.

A light blush touched your cheeks as you swatted him away, “I didn’t choose to walk through the deluge out there haphazardly, ya know! It just started pouring on my way over here”, your laugh trailing off as you pulled out the rations you were supposed to be delivering. “Halfway here I realized the rations were probably ruined as well…Sorry, Howzer.” The drenched packages that slopped onto the counter from your bag gave away the condition of the contents. A pout fell over your face and Howzer could hardly keep his heart steady as he saw the precious upturn of your brows.

The captain could hear the remorse and guilt weaving through your normally bubbly voice, so he waved his hand in dismissal. “Don’t worry about it, we can figure something else out, mesh’la. Besides, you should know by now, the rations are nice,” he chuckled, “but the company is far more valuable to me.” You had only met a handful of clones throughout your life, many of the Clone Wars had affected the planet around you, but never yours so that left the planet more for the stationing of the clones- but very rarely. The ones you had met had seemed far more rough around the edges, more militant than Howzer was, at least around you. He was always so gentle and notably affectionate. Certainly not that you were complaining, the way he treated you was special enough to swoon you from early on. A handsome military man with a compassionate heart was hardly something anyone could deny for too long.

Especially one with such an adorable smile such as his.

“I uh-” Howzer clearing his throat brought you back as he tapped his fingers against the table, “I saw these while I was on one of my walks the other day.” A subtle gesture toward the mason jar of wildflowers brought your attention to them, “they reminded me of you so I thought I’d bring them back and, uh, see how you liked them.” His eyes flickered between your reaction and the flora between the two of you. It wasn’t the first time the clone captain had been unsure of exactly what to say around you, not by a long shot, but the current situation felt more difficult than others.

“For…me?” The sweet innocence in your voice betrayed the devastatingly sinful way the wet clothes accentuated your figure for his trained eye, so in an attempt to compose himself, Howzer fiddled with pushing his wet hair back and out of his face.

“Yeah, for you, mesh’la” he cleared his throat again to steady his growing anticipation. Watching as your beautiful eyes widened in realization, picking the jar up to inspect it closer, Howzer felt his left leg begin to bounce against the wood floor. The silence felt suffocating as you continued to run your finger delicately through the flowers, not glancing even once over at the anxious captain. It gave enough pause for Howzer to overthink his words, maybe he should’ve explained more the reason why he picked them? Perhaps he shouldn’t have said anything? Had he said too much? Or worse…were these flowers that he thought were pretty just seen as weeds on your planet and now you thought he was insulting you?

Oh, stars…what if you thought he was insulting you!

“They’re so beautiful, Howzer,” your voice was soft and wistful enough to halt every worrying thought swirling inside of him. “I can’t believe you gathered them just for me. I really appreciate that.” You held the jar close to your chest and he was met with another one of your devastating smiles that made his heart stop in its thundering rhythm. The sparkle in your eyes hypnotized him, reeling him into what felt like a world where just your smile existed. There was no Republic, no Empire, no war, no Order 66, no hiding for safety…just the dream that was so perfectly…you. In this world, there were no repercussions for how he felt. He could love you freely as his heart desired, finally know the way you’d feel wrapped up in him, he wouldn’t have to worry about you being hurt by anyone because of him.

You could properly be his, the way he wanted to be yours.

“You are breathtaking, mesh’la…”

The words caught you off guard, your eyes having traveled back down at some point to look over the floral arrangement in your hands now snapped back over to see the clone captain gazing at you lovingly, as if he were looking upon a rare star. “H-Howzer…?”

It seemed as if he were enchanted by something as he stood up from his chair, being drawn in by the longing to touch you, “forgive me, I know this is sudden,” Howzer began in a low tone, his fingers caressing your hand as he approached, removing the jar gently and placing it aside. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” the way he breathed your name elicited goosebumps across your arms, his rough fingertips chasing them up to carefully cup your neck. Brown eyes searched yours for any sign of discomfort from his sudden display but he could find nothing of the such, surprise, elation, and confusion perhaps, but not an ounce of displeasure. Your wet cheeks felt warmer and warmer by the second, the restriction of the clothes that clung to your body becoming alarmingly apparent. “I could’ve chosen a better time to do this, I guess.” Chuckling as he wiped away a stray drop of rain that cascaded down your jaw to your neck where his warm hand was still settled.

“No,” your voice startled you, speaking before you even realized, “please…don’t stop. I-I…you’re very warm this close.”

“I could warm you up a little more,” the shift in his eyes was alluring as one of his hands slid back to cradle the back of your head, gently tangling his fingers through your wet hair, tilting your face up a little more to glance between your eyes and lips, “that is, if you’d allowed me, cyra’ika?” His grin melted any resolve you had to deny him for the sake of Rex and any other clones that might need their brother in top shape…not distracted by a romantic entanglement.

Your heart fluttered wildly against your chest, curiosity overwhelming you, “warm me up more?” and at his simple nod, you continued, “h-how?” Your hands finally came up to slide over his wet shirt, settling at his chest as he stepped even further into your space.

“I could tell you,” Howzer began, “or I could show you how beautiful I think you are.” he finished softer, the same fire behind his eyes. Thousands of possibilities ran wild through your mind at the offer, but before you could choose just one, hearing his gruff voice whisper your name to catch your immediate attention. “It would be an honor of mine to kiss you…please.”

Without answering, you surged upward to crash against him in a desperate attempt to quell some of the burning in your chest for the man before you. Howzer grunted at the sensation of feeling you against him finally, tasting your lips for the first time nearly bringing him to his knees. One of his hands stayed firmly at the back of your head, the other sliding down to press your lower back, pushing you further into him- craving the sensation of you everywhere. The way your lips slid against his in a fervent kiss made his head spin and the surprise of this even being reality instead of one of his many dreams caused him to pull away only a fraction to allow a whisper of your name to echo between the two of you. “Yes, Captain?” Your response was just as quiet as his, the title more of a pet name when spoken from your lips, “Don’t tell me you’re going to retreat from me now.” You always had such a sweet, innocent sparkle to your eye, and the way you gazed up at him currently with the same glimmer but this time with a haze of lust and hooded eyes made the clone captain even more resolute in his sudden decision.

“I’d be a kriffing fool, mesh’la,” Howzer pressed an open-mouthed kiss to your lips, his tongue sliding dominantly into your mouth, claiming the treasure that was your moan. “A kriffing fool…” he repeated, almost breathlessly before he dove back in to devour you once more. The heated exchange was nearly dizzying, as he kissed you repeatedly, pulling away for only moments long enough to breathe. You’d always experienced his passion when he spoke of his brothers, the Clone Wars, Ryloth, and even Hera- the little Twi’lek girl he watched over often. But experiencing his passion in such an intimate way felt surreal and with his lips now trailing down your jaw to leave warm kisses against your neck you muttered his name through heavy breaths. “Yes, cyar’ika?” The gravel in his voice vibrated through your body.

“Wh-What do those words-” you were interrupted by a sudden gasp as he pulled aside the wet shoulder of your shirt to kiss your wet skin, “those words mean…the names you call me.”

Howzer hummed in pleasure at your question, kissing back along to your collarbone, “my Mando’a pet names for you,” he began, only stopping to speak against your cold skin, “Mesh’la,” he kissed your clavicle, “means beautiful. Which you are, to me.” Lips leaving kisses across to the other shoulder, “Cyar’ika” a warm open-mouthed kiss to the juncture between your neck and shoulder, “means darling, or sweetheart- interchangeably. And you are both of those things, my darling and my sweetheart.” His whispers only heightened the sensation of his kisses against your skin. “Cyare”, this one he paused for a moment, considering if he should give the truth of the definition to you, or what others could use the word to mean. As his lips kissed up the column of your neck, Howzer felt the way your hands gripped at the cloth of his shirt, fortifying his determination. Leaving a kiss just below your ear he whispered, “Mean beloved.” Your shuttering gasp made him smile against your skin, “which you are. You are my beloved.”

It felt like a dream as you felt him encircle you within his arms, head rising to meet your eyes once more, his damp hair, you noticed, having come to fall back onto his forehead. “You are everything I never even considered and if you’ll continue to let me, I would love to show you just how deeply I care about you, mesh’la.” His eyes spoke more than his words, the way they glimmered eagerly to shower you with his affection.

It felt as if your heart were bound to burst upon all of the sudden emotions, but you merely took a deep breath and matched his growing smile, “I would love that, Howzer. Please, show me how much you care about me, so that I may do the same for you.”

Mischief filled his smile as he caressed your cheek adoringly, “Then if you don’t, let’s get you out of these drenched clothes, what do you say?”

[rexxdjarin]

What are your favorite fics of yours? Greatest hits, underrated gems, doesn’t matter to me. What are you most proud of?

Ahhhh hi bby🥹💙 so I’m gonna do my best to answer each of these.

My greatest hits are:

Captain’s Log - my main fic that started it all. It’s got everything, passionate love (and smut, a LOT of smut), dealing with war trauma, rebellion and freedom fighting etc. it’s the story of my oc: Mari, writing from a reader pov, and her love story with Rex as they survive in the galaxy post order 66. It was my first fic and the fic I will always come back to.

Unwritten - the prequel to captains log but written from my oc: Mari’s actual POV about how her and Rex first met and fell in love over the entirety of the clone wars era. It’s political, it’s coming of age, it’s got clone friendships, political ally ship and lots and lots of smut hahaha. The love between these two develops here and I could talk about this fic for 4000 years.

My underrated gems are:

Afflictions - my empire era boba fett smut one shot. I love this piece. It’s toxic and messy and all the things I’d imagine asshole Boba Fett would really be like during this time.

A Twisted Fantasy - my commander wolffe fantasizing smut fic. It’s more recent but it’s so filthy and secretly soft and so so wolffe to me. I love going back and rereading this bc I can picture him so clearly in it.

Out of Our Element - a commander wolffe fic that’s happening during the event of captains log and with my twi’lek oc: zeeta. it’s smutty, switchy, so much back and forth sexual tension between two expert seductive people with Wolffe’s signature secret longing yearning underneath it all. I love this piece so much and it’s one of the things I’m most proud of. And my twi’lek oc: zeeta art was inspired by this.

But honestly the fic im most proud of by far is:

No Shame - it’s commander Wolffe x reader and I love this piece so much. I think it’s probably the best smut I’ve ever written AND the best I’ve ever written a reader character. She is a self-conscious, self-destructive, very anxious reader and it’s a very different reader character than I usually write but I absolutely LOVE how I wrote her dynamic with wolffe and how he acts to protect her vulnerability in this. It’s just so good I literally can’t believe I wrote it.

I love all the things I’ve worked on. I have hundreds of thots, one off asks I’ve answered etc in my masterlist in my bio. If you love reading these, I promise you’ll like the less involved stuff too. 🥰💙

[bigbadbatch]

In My Mind - Chapter 3

Chapter 3 - Delicate

Warnings: Semi-Public, Fingering, heavy jealousy.

Word Count: 2.5k

Listening Recs - Delicate and Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus by T. Swift.

Naboo is beautiful in a way I can’t even describe. The sound of singing birds permeates the air, the breeze smells of flowers and salt water, and the palace we're staying at? I have never ever had this kind of luxury before. This moment feels like it's a thousand years from the Onderan revolution, but in reality, only three days have passed.

Rex, Fives, Anakin and I flit around a grand ballroom. This is day two of Chandrila Peace Ball training, and I must admit, I prefer this style of training to the style Jedi use in the temple and on the battlefield. No knives, no blasters, no sabers. Just music and conversational etiquette and dancing lessons. 

Tomorrow we leave for an excursion on Chandrila. Mon Mothma, a senator of the planet, is hosting a Peace Ball in her palace in Hanna City. Both Seperatists and Republic members will be in attendance, as a way to foster peaceful conversation and negotiations over expensive food, wine, and strict etiquettes. Chandrila has etiquette rules for everything; how you eat and speak, how you leave a conversation, how you breathe- practically. Any manner of small, typical moments in my day to day life could offend the wrong person if done at the Peace Ball. That’s why we are here in Naboo.

Padme Amidala, a Senator and not-so-secret lover of Anakin, is training us for this reconnaissance mission. Anakin and I, paired with a Nabooian high-family member, will attend as esteemed guests. Though Anakin is known across the galaxy as a Jedi, my low-profile missions allow me the luxury of staying unknown by most as one, meaning I can spy and get close to the other guests much more easily than he can at this Ball. Rex and Fives will attend as our security detail, but much to their dismay, must attend these dance lessons as well. It is a cardinal sin on Chandrila to deny someone a dance if asked, and Chandrillans do not differentiate between high level guests and lower level attendees- all are welcome on the floor.

So we see Rex and Fives, each in button-up shirts and slacks, dancing with a high birth Nabooian woman, trying hard not to step on their toes. It seems so strange to see them out of blacks or armor. Normally I would laugh at this, or make mental notes on what to tease Rex about later. Instead, I seethe, all because of her. 

The second we stepped off the ship yesterday she runs to greet him. “Rex!” She squeals and her arms are around his neck and she hugs him- too tightly. He pulls away, a startled look on his face. “I- uh- didn’t expect to see you, Nadine.” She giggles and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear coyly. My stomach is churning. He clearly knows this woman, and I don’t need the Force to tell me that he knows her a little too well for my liking. After dinner last night, he pulled me aside.

“Let me explain.” He said. I patiently hear him out.

Rex had an extended mission on Naboo during the Trade Federation crisis. Nadine and he had a fling: small, meaningless, nothing. It was years ago.

I smile at him and say “We all have a past.”

And I mean it. He knows my history with Fives, and has never let our one-time tryst bother him, even with Fives’ and I’s strong friendship and his being here. I want to give him that same courtesy back, but my heart twists and turns in my chest every time I hear her giggle and coo over him, no matter how much he tries to keep his distance.

As he continues dancing with her, learning the steps to yet another traditional Chandrilan ballroom dance, Fives walks over, taking a break from the dreaded dancing. He looks ragged, rather than rugged. “Fives, are you feeling okay?” I ask. With a slight shake of his head, he leans against the wall I’m standing near, and snatches my water out of my hand, guzzling it down.

I had talked to him after that night at 79’s, where the trooper accused me of sleeping around. Fives assured me he had never, would never, talk about it. I believe him.

With a heavy sigh he hands me back the empty cup he stole from me. “I haven’t been sleeping well. I keep having this nightmare.” He says quietly. I nod. “I know how that is.” I respond. Then I have a thought.

“Us Jedi have a little trinket we give to younglings who have trouble sleeping. We imbue it with the Force to calm them at night. I'd be happy to lend you mine, I bring it with me everywhere I go.” I don’t have the heart to tell him it hasn't worked for me or my nightmares since Rankill. He smiles softly at me.

“That’s sweet of you. I'll take anything at this point.”

I smile back at him. “I'll bring it to you at dinner.” I say and squeeze his shoulder. W

e look onto the ballroom floor where Anakin and Rex continue with their dance lessons. Nadine and Rex are practicing a particularly close and slow dance, and I hiss through my teeth.

“Easy, Keria.” Fives says under his breath. I sigh.

Fives knows all about Rex and I's... whatever this is. He is dual confidant to both of us, and our lookout at times.

“She’s fucking annoying.” I say quietly and he laughs. It feels good to hear him laugh. I realize I don’t recall him laughing since before the 79’s incident.

“Don’t worry about her. I have it on good authority that Rex finds her annoying as well.” He said hushed under the music.

A sly smile crosses my face at this. We are interrupted by my dance partner, done with his short lesson break and back to hold me captive once again.

I would be attending the ball as the guest of Sir Tils Manx, who’s family was the richest on Naboo.

“You’re ready to go again, I presume?” He asks as he puts his hand to my lower back as he leads me to the dance floor. One hand on my hip, the other in my outreached hand, we begin our measured twirling about the room. His hand is too low on my back, and he knows it. He is someone who is used to getting anything he wants, but not this time. I smile and nod, not engaging any further.

Last night as we all had cocktails after dinner, he saddled up next to me and struck up a conversation. At first, he was polite, asking generic questions about being a Jedi. Rex stood near my side, and I knew he was gasoline whilst ignoring Nadine.

“So.” Manx says.

“I know attachment is forbidden for a Jedi. But, and this may be too forward of me to ask, but I believe sex isn’t off the table?”

Rex nearly chokes on his drink and he sets it down on the table a little too hard.

“You’re right.” I say. “That was too forward.” And retire to my room. 

Here I am now dancing with him, and he hasn’t picked up on any of my hints. His hands are clammy, and though he may be attractive, I find him repulsive. I look over to where Rex and Nadine dance. She’s beautiful. Long blond hair, full lips. She’s bubbly, effervescent. No wonder Rex had been taken by her so long ago. I grit my teeth as she stares at his face a little too long.

Normally I wouldn’t care like this, and I might even have preferred it, once upon a time. I had gone home with couples before, and I enjoyed sharing the men I slept with, with other women. I enjoyed seeing them enjoy themselves. But this? The constant images that pop in my head of Rex and Nadine, touching, kissing, fucking? It makes me feel sick. The midnight storm of the Force within me is full of hail and freezing rain when I think of it.

“You seem distracted.” Manx says, and I look at him.

“Oh sorry, I can be a bit easily distracted sometimes.” I reply and he smiles.

He leans close as we perform a quick spin and whispers “I have something I’d love to distract you with, maybe later?” His breath is hot on my neck as he finishes his sentence and pulls away, and I do my best not to snap at him, already fuming from my impulsive thoughts of Rex and that woman.

“I’ll pass.” I say, and the music ends. We bow and before he can talk to me anymore, I storm off to the room I’ve been lent in this castle. I’m halfway there when footsteps catch up to me, and I turn thinking Manx is still at it.

“I’m not interested.” I snap, but look up into familiar eyes. “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was you.” Rex’s face seems shocked at my outburst.

“I came to check on you, you left in a hurry. Everything okay?”

I sigh. “Yeah. I just am tired of dealing with Mr. Handsy.”

Rex’s jaw clenches at this. “I’ll talk to him.” He says sternly and goes to walk away but I grab his wrist.

“No. I only have to put up with him for a little longer, and I don’t want to make things worse. I’m just on edge.”

Rex relaxes his arm and his hand falls into mine. With a glance over his shoulder to check that the coast is clear of Jedi Masters and prying eyes, he steps close to me in the hallway. “I’ve missed you, mesh’la. We haven’t had any time alone.” He whispers and kisses me lightly. I kiss him back, suddenly reminded that it’s been days since I’ve felt his lips on mine. “I’d say you can sneak into my room tonight, but Anakin and Padme are right across the hall.” I whisper back. He groans in exasperation. Then there’s footsteps coming around the corner and we break apart, just a General and a Captain having a conversation.

“Oh there you are Rexy!” A high-pitched voice calls, and I know in that moment I’ll never call him Rexy again. Nadine nearly skips up to him and hooks her arm around his. “Oh hello, Keira” she says feigning innocence. I nod a hello back.

“I’m going to steal him away for some etiquette lessons.” She says and pulls on his arm. “It’ll likely run into dinner time so we will just have to have our dinner together Rexy.”

I ball my fist at my side. Dinner, alone with her?

“Have fun.” I call out as he is dragged away, looking at me with some emotion I can’t name on his face. 

---

Later that night, after dinner, I wander through the gardens. The hedges of lilac and lavender paint the fountains in the purple moonlight. I haven’t seen Rex again tonight since Nadine pulled him away before dinner. I’m almost glad for it. Manx had sat beside me at dinner, and under the table put his hand on my knee, daring to slide it up my thigh. I quickly brushed it away, but if Rex had seen, I wonder about what would have happened. Part of me wants to see him jealous like me, wonders if he feels as unhinged inside as I do when our dance partners are too close to us.

Rounding a corner I hear a giggle. I know that giggle. I step into the opening of a courtyard where benches surround a fountain. I scan the space, ready to come up with some excuse to have Rex leave with me. She’s had him long enough today. I freeze when I spot them. He sits, arms crossed on a bench beside her. His expression is unreadable, but he doesn’t look at her. She, however, is doing everything she can to be looked at.

“Didn’t you miss me at all, Rexy?” She coos and I can’t help it, I start to cross the courtyard. I’m halfway there when I’m stopped in my tracks.

She takes her hand and traces his ear with a finger. She grabs his chin and turns him to face her. Her other hand is on his chest and slides down until it rests on his belt. She’s leaning in, lips a breath away while I’m holding my own breath. She goes in for the kiss. 

I’m shaking.

He turns his head, Nadine missing his lips and kissing his cheek instead.

It’s still too much. In my haste to get away, I turn and trip, the scattering of stones giving me away. “Keira?” Rex calls, his voice strained. I don’t respond, I just walk away as quickly as I can. I don’t know where to go, I’m lost in the maze of the palace and end up in the ballroom. Broad pillars, three people wide, surround the inner circle of the room and the marble floors echo my steps. The only light coming in is from the large skylight taking up the whole ceiling. The outer circle of the room is bathed in darkness, and behind the pillars looks like a perfect place to cry. I am making my way there when There are hurried footsteps behind me and Rex calls out “Keira, wait!”

I freeze by a pillar, my hand on it supporting my weight. I feel dizzy and hurt and sick and angry and jealous all at once. Rex grabs my hand spinning me.

“Please Keira, listen to me.” He says and I just look up at him silently.

The force within me is icy.

“I’ve been trying to thwart her all day, this whole trip really.” He says his voice bouncing off the walls, amplified by the resounding acoustics in the ballroom.

“It’s fine.” I say flatly. The ice in my veins has taken over my voice. “You didn’t have to stop on my account.” I spit, and even I am shocked by it but I don’t stop. “If you want to be with her that’s fine. I’m not going to hold you back from what you want.”

He looks at me incredulously.” You know what I want. I want you.” He says.

I shrug. “I don’t know if maybe you want others too. We never defined this, I shouldn’t just assume you want exclusivity. Do what you want Rex.” And I turn to leave, heart pounding in that icy anger still. Rough hands grab me and pull me behind the pillar, pinning me against it in the darkness of the outer circle.

“Maker, you don’t get it do you?” He growls. He kisses me roughly then pulls away. “I only want you. I want you every second of every day. I want to be with you in the open, I want everyone to know that you’re mine, that I want you to be mine.”

He kisses me again and this time his hand is gathering my dancing skirt hiking it up high on my thighs. “Rex.” I whisper.

“Shut up and listen to me, just for a second.” He snaps.

I’ve never seen this side of him. He puts his middle two fingers in his mouth, wetting them, then he’s pulling my panties to the side and, oh Maker, he’s touching me.

“Do you know how it’s feels seeing Manx all over you since we got here?” He snarls.

His fingers make tight, fast circles on my clit and I’m gasping. He’s really touching me like this, in an open ballroom where anyone can walk in, hidden only by the night and a marble pillar.

“Do you know how angry, how jealous I’ve been, knowing he wants you? That he wants to be-”

his fingers move and he plunges them into me

“-inside you?”

My walls are fluttering and I am suddenly so wet for him.

“Rex.” I whine. He’s pumping his fingers in and out of me with haste, and the palm of his hand hits my clit with every thrust.

“You’re my girl. Got it? Not his, not anyone else’s, mine.”

I’m coming undone, completely in his hands. He kisses me again, his other hand coming to my throat.

“I want you, Keira. I want to be with you, and near you, and inside you. Only you. I'm yours.”

I can’t help it, I’m coiling tightly inside, flying higher and higher, I start to moan and the moan echoes along the marble walls and floor until Rex clasps a hand over my mouth. I look at him with wide eyes.

“Stay quiet, cyarika.” He says. “You want everyone to know that you’re about to come on my fingers? In the ballroom? Anyone could walk by and hear it. Shit, anyone could come in at any time and just see me making a mess of you like this.”

I’m losing it. This is so erotic and I’m on the brink.

“Come for me mesh’la” he growls in my ear, as he bites down on my neck and I obey. My body is racked with convulsions and I come, hands gripping the pillar keeping me upright. I scream and it’s muffled by his hand still on my mouth. My eyes flutter closed Rex removes his hands from both my core and my mouth. 

I open my heavy eyes to see him staring at me. He raises his hand to his lips and take those two fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean.

“Next time.” He says “I’m going to really taste you.”

Instantly I’m filled with need.

“Fuck me, Rex.” I blurt and my hands reach for his belt, my lips for his lips. “I want you, now.” I breathe.

I almost have his pants undone when he grabs my wrists and pins them on the pillar above my head.

“Not here.” He says strained.

“My room, we can sneak in.” I say, pleading.

He grits his teeth and stares at me

“I need you to fuck me Rex, Please.” And I’m squirming in his grip.

His hold tightens “Maker. Don’t beg me mesh’la. I can’t help myself if you beg.”

I look at him with doe eyes, lips trembling. “I need you.” I whisper.

He looks back at me, with a new determination. “No.” He says, and my breath catches.

“We’ve both been so patient mesh’la.” He breathes. “And when I fuck you…” he says leaning closer. “And I mean really fuck you…” his teeth are on my ear then on my neck. “It’s going to mean something. Because you mean something to me mesh’la.”

I’m frozen as he gently brings his lips to mine and kisses me more tenderly than he ever has. “So keep being patient.” He says and releases my hands. My legs nearly buckle, and he holds me upright.

“I would walk you to your room.” He says “but I worry everything I just said will come undone and I won’t be able to help myself from going in there with you tonight.”

I nod understanding, at a loss for words. I kiss him gingerly. “Goodnight.” I whisper. With a kiss on my forehead- he’s gone.

[beating-a-dead-plot]

Character List + Rules

Hello! I’m Petunia, welcome to my blog! 

I am a massive Star Wars nerd, I spend most of my free time reading, writing, watching, or even talking about Star Wars. I will admit, I have not seen Solo or Rise of Skywalker, neither of them were available to me at the right time and I never went back for them, sadly. Despite this, if someone really thinks I should watch them, I am open to debate! 

Rule and Character List under the cut: 

Rules: 

NO SMUT, though, my blog is 18+ because I do share smut fics and that sort of thing. I don’t care if you’re only 17, wait that extra year before following or I will block you. 

I love romance, I am a sucker for love and fluff, so that is my main market, however I will write angst or hurt/comfort if requested!

No clone x clone except in platonic or familial situations, just not something I enjoy reading or writing.

No hate towards specific ships, even if I personally dislike them. 

No underage characters in relationships with adult characters in a romantic light, platonic or familial only please.

I WILL take requests of me to listen to a specific song while writing, I understand that music can greatly influence writing, and I’d love to bring your thoughts to life!

Characters I Will Write For: 

Din “Mando” Djarin

Boba Fett

The Armorer

Paz Vizsla

Omera and Winta (Only in a platonic scene) 

Cara Dune

Fennec Shand

Migs Mayfeld

Luke Skywalker

Leia Organa

Han Solo

Chewbacca (Only in a platonic scene) 

Krrsantan (Also known as Santos and Black Krrsantan)

Garsa Fwip

Cassian Andor

Jyn Erso

K-2SO (Only in platonic scenes)

R2-D2 and C3-PO (Only in platonic scenes)

Obi-Wan Kenobi, throughout his life. (Though I reserve the right to turn down a request I don’t feel I can fulfill)

Owen Lars (Young or Kenobi-Era only please)

Darth Vader (I’m iffy on this one, I may be selective with requests for this character) 

Padme Amidala

Any handmaidens of Padme Amidala who are mentioned in the Queen’s Trilogy by E.K. Johnston. 

Jango Fett

Qui-Gon Jinn

Darth Maul

The Grand Inquisitor

Hera Syndulla

Kanan Jarrus

Ezra Bridger (Only in platonic scenes)

Sabine Wren (Only in platonic scenes) 

Zeb Orrelios

Ahsoka Tano (Only in a platonic scene)

Hondo Ohnaka 

Embo

Asajj Ventress 

Shaak Ti

Aayla Secura

Plo Koon

Quinlan Vos

Savage Opress 

Satine Kryze

Any clone you want, just please be understanding if they are too obscure for me to feel I can accurately portray them. If I like the idea, or even if I just think it might be fun to write, I will definitely stalk Google and Tumblr to find more information before deciding whether I will write for them. If you want a fic for a clone, no matter how random or small ASK ME, I will always answer and let you know if I can do it!

Ships I Will Write For:

Blyla

Codywan

Quinfox/Foxquin/Vos

Wolffe/Plo Koon (Only in a platonic scene)

Rexsoka (Only in a platonic scene)

Anidala

Finnpoe

Cassian/Jyn

Baze/Chirrut

Han/Leia

Bail/Breha

Foxiyo 

Kanera

Obitine

Obi-Wan/Jango Fett 

DinLuke

Mace Windu/Commander Ponds

Owen/Beru

Other Assorted Platonic Ships, if you want it, ask me!

And, lastly, pretty much ANY clone trooper who appears in Clone Wars, and including Bad Batch! If they have a name, I don’t care how obscure, I will do my best to know them well enough to write what you desire. If I fail miserably, at least you’ll have a good laugh! 

[lothcat-lothcat-lothwolf-run]

this would go crazy on the holonet

[wantonlywindswept]

another trope inversion of GAR/Guard interactions:

the GAR is entirely aware that Coruscant is a shit posting.

they're not blind; they can see all the anti-clone sentiment when they're on leave. even when they're deployed, it's not like they're cut off from all news - they know how many times bills for clone rights have gone to the Senate floor and been ruthlessly voted down. they can see how even their Jedi are restrained by the Senate dragging its feet and making bad choices and handling the war like it's a game of dejarik since it will never affect them personally.

very few politicians have the respect of the clones.

but the Guard still have to work with the spoiled, self-centered bastards, and the GAR knows that they're not being treated well. but what can they do? they have no rights, the Jedi are as trapped under the Senate's thumb as they are, and it's not like they can get regular citizens to do anything.

so they offer their support as much as they can. any Guard, any Corrie who needs help, all they have to do is find one of their brothers and it will be offered without any questions.

you'd think that crime rate would go up when battle-traumatized soldiers are given leave on a city-planet like Coruscant, but it actually goes down.

way down.

the thing criminals come to realize is that if you are being chased by one of the Guard, if ANY other clone catches sight of you, it is ON SIGHT. clones in casual clothes carrying food and drinks have dropped everything to immediately join a Guard's hunt, throwing themselves into the pursuit with glee and an energy that the usually-exhausted Guards often lack. (some of them howl. those, the criminal underground agrees, are the worst.) 

and with hundreds or thousands of clones wandering around during battalions' leave, it's possible to run into one of them anywhere. and they usually travel in packs.

best just to lay low for a while.

when it leaks that the Guard regularly run low on supplies, all sorts of things start to go missing on the venators. just a box or a crate here or there, ration packs or bacta patches or cold-weather gear. there are millions of clones and thousands of ships; it's not like every little thing can be tracked by the quartermasters. 

(rex realizes that, for whatever reason, his battalion is always prioritized for resupply, and rarely any questions are asked about their requisitions. rex takes immediate and shameless advantage of this. rex manages, somehow, to lose two entire bacta tanks, along with the bacta to fill them.)

and ofc the idea that started this whole ramble - when a shiny Corrie stumbles somewhere where some of the 501st are shooting the shit, causing everything to immediately come to a halt. the kid is clutching his helmet and one of his pauldrons to his chest; his hair is mussed up and there are tears on his cheeks and bruises on his face and unadulterated panic in his eyes. 

there's an angry call in the corridor.

the shiny flinches.

fives grabs him, hears him squeak, snaps out orders. echo yanks off his bucket and his upper armor; jesse lunges for a blanket. they hustle the kid into a chair, drape the blanket over his lower body, hastily swap his upper armor and helmet for echo's. fives shoves the armor somewhere, doesn't matter, it's out of sight with the telltale red, and they all barely have enough time to drop themselves back into the chairs arranged around the table and pick up their cards before some natborn stomps into the room.

anything we can do for you, sir? sorry, no, the Guard didn't stop in here. we saw him head back down toward the rotunda, though. yes, sir. have a nice day, sir.

they close and lock the door. fives goes back to the shiny. fives was instantly prepared to help a fellow clone in need.

fives was not prepared for tears.

the kid gets snot all over the inside of echo's helmet. they take him back to Guard HQ. fox is painfully, desperately relieved to see him. fox looks too-thin and too-tired but there is a fresh GAR-issued bacta patch covering a slash across the side of his cheek. he thanks them for saving the shiny, like that's something that ever needs gratitude, but is swept away before any of them can say that. 

fives doesn't think that misplaced bacta and pilfered rations are enough support for the Guard anymore.

thankfully, rex and the rest of the GAR agree.

[phantasmagoriatime]

Finally

My art for the @clonebang (thank you so much for this event!)

Also super BIG kudos💜 to my teammates for making the process so fun and really special!!

The source of inspiration is an amazing story What We Did on Felucia by @wolveria

And the source of motivation is very talented artist @binkyisonline

[bones4918]

I made a clone wars timeline to combine all of canon and legends into one cohesive and somewhat manageable timeline, mainly for fanfic and ttrpg purposes but I thought people might like it, it has a full workout of the galactic standard calendar and has precise(ish) dates for events (mainly republic commando) but I want as many people as possible to be able to see it and hopefully enjoy it

You can find it here:

[stardust9905]

^^^^^^^

Aggravation - Fives x Fem!Reader

No one knows how to get under your skin like Fives, and one night at 79s you find a way to relieve some of that tension.

Crossposted on Ao3

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: Straight up smut, (18+), mentions of overheard masturbation, hate sex, public sex, unprotected piv sex, drinking, oral (f receiving), light choking, minor degradation, interrupted sex (so voyeurism maybe?).

You feel a fire coursing through your veins. You've trained yourself to ignore anger, but no this Is just pure irritation. Annoyance. Aggravation. Storming through the crowds of dancers at 79s, you finally see the refreshers and steam into them, kicking the door closed after you enter. In your haze of liquor enhanced frustration you didn’t realize you went into the men’s room, but it’s too late for you to care. All you need Is solace from the club, from that little shit.

The reverb from the heavy bass in the club echoes in the tiled room. You go to the sink to examine yourself in the mirror; your cheeks are flushed, lipstick a bit faded from sipping on drinks all night, and your dress sports a small stain on the skirt from where some errant drop of booze must have landed on it in your rush to get off the dance floor and away from the stares of nosy patrons nearby.

Dammit, I knew I should have worn black. You mentally curse at yourself while you pull your lipstick out of your purse to touch it up. The door to the ‘fresher opening drew another curse out of you as you’re ready to apologize to the poor clone who’s probably about to be surprised at your presence. But when you see who it Is, your temperature rises again.

“What the hell are you playing at?” Fives all but shouts at you, his face echoing the annoyance you felt.

“Me? I’m just trying to have a good time on my night out. What was all that about?” You fire back, turning around at the sink so you can face him as he strides towards you. Instinctively you step back at his movement, your back pressed against the counter.

“I was trying to stop you from making a fool out of yourself.” His voice lowers, but the irritation peaked through in the timber of his tone.

“Oh yeah, so you spilling a drink on the person I was dancing with, and getting some on me by the way, doesn’t make me look like a fool at all.” You roll your eyes at him, letting the sarcasm drip from your voice.

“Yeah, well it’s better than letting some shiny feel you up on the dance floor.” His usually playful golden eyes narrow, their usual warmth replaced by some other emotion you can’t quite place.

“What, you wish it were you?” You mock, eliciting a scowl on his face. “Go on, admit it. You’re the last man in this club that I would want to be with, and you can't stand it.”

You expect anger from him in response, but instead you get a low chuckle that goes straight to your core. Fives took another step towards you, his eyes glancing up and down your body as he does. With the counter pressed against your back, you don't have anywhere else to go, so you cross your arms in front of you stand-offishly. By the way his eyes linger you realized it just shows off your breasts more to him, but you couldn’t move from your pose to fidget more and show that he's getting to you.

“Well, I know that’s a lie.” He smirks at you, his own arms crossing over his armored chest as if mirroring your pose. He leaned his head slightly closer to you as he continued “I heard you on our last deployment you know.”

You heart stops. No, no way in hells, he’s just trying to get a reaction out of you. You try to keep your face unreadable, but the knowing glint in his eyes paired with his shit-eating grin tells you of your failure.

“Oh yes. I was doing my rounds when I heard an oh-so-curious sound coming from your room. It was you. You were moaning. At first I wondered if someone was there with you, so I was ready to walk off and leave you be, but what I heard next has stuck with me ever since.” He takes another step towards you, uncrossing his arms and caging them around you at the counter.

“My name left your lips in the prettiest sigh. Gods, I wanted to smash that door open and take you right then. But no, I decided. I would wait. I would take my time. I would treat you right when the moment came.”

You turn your head to avoid the heat of his gaze, but his hand catches your chin to force your eyes to lock with his.

“You can imagine my disappointment when you go on ignoring me. Acting like I don’t exist, acting like I’m not the one you think about when you’re alone touching yourself.”

“It was one time,” You glare back at him. You had been working with the 501st on a particularly difficult mission, which meant Fives was always around to pester you, he was always the one to cause problems. The personal bane to your existence. If Fives was shocked when he realized you thought of him as you were taking care of yourself, that was nothing compared to your own surprise when thoughts of the Arc Trooper fucking you senseless popped into your head and triggered your orgasm immediately.

“Still happened, sweetheart,” he cocks his head at you. “Is that why you went to that shiny? You didn’t want to admit that you want me, so you go for some knockoff fresh out of the tube?”

You scoff at his arrogance, “He probably wouldn’t drive me as crazy as you do.”

Fives leans in closer to you, his breath fanning against your ear as he almost whispers “But that’s why you want me mesh’la. You could have anyone you want out there, but no one gets your panties in a twist quite like I do.” He pulls back to grin at you. You curse yourself for the fidgety mess you've become all with a few words in your ears.

You know he’s right. Even if the thoughts entered your mind just one time, you know they were there subconsciously. Every time he winked at you after making some stupid joke, the shit eating grin he wore at all times, the way he stretched his muscled arms over his head when he was in just his blacks and relaxing. His presence over you, towering over you as his arms cage you in. The light scent of ale on his breath, mixed with his own musk. His eyes, and that look that you now place as lust mixed with possessiveness.

“Gods, sometimes you just make me want to scream.” You rasp out, trying to hold yourself from falling deeper into your urges. His eyes sparkle mischievously at you as his hand leaves your chin to stroke a stray hair behind your ear.

“Oh, I can definitely make you scream.”

The thread holding you together snaps and you grasp the back of his neck, pulling him closer to crush your lips to his. His hands on the counter leap to your hips to bring you close to him as he eagerly returns your kiss. He allowed you to make the first move, but he wants to take what he waited so long for. His tongue slides upon your lips, seeking entry before you accept him into your mouth. His hands travel from your hips to the plush of your ass, gripping tightly as he grinds his lower half into yours, your legs eagerly spreading for him.

The motion of his movements leave the lower half of your dress in disarray; his hands bunch up the fabric on your behind and his small thrusts slowly pushing up the front. You feel the smooth, coolness of his lower armor against your thighs. His codpiece rutting right into your core, the hardness is slightly uncomfortable but the friction it provides is enough for you to gasp into Fives’ mouth. He chuckles into your lips, purposefully kissing you deeper and thrusting harder against you two more times to make steal that noise from you again.

He pulls back and lifts you onto the counter, with your arms propping you up as your ass sits on the edge. He bunches your dress around your waist, making note of the stain he caused earlier.

“I would say sorry for the mess, but I plan on making a much bigger one out of you.” He hungrily eyes your panties as he removes his gloves. He runs a finger along the lace barrier to your entrance and groans. “Not that I have to try it seems; you’re already wet.”

“Shut up, I don’t need to hear you-“ your quip is interrupted by the slight snap of fabric on your skin as Fives rips your panties off you. “Hey! That was my favorite pair!”

“Not my problem,” Fives mumbles as he brings the panties to his face and sniffs them. “I need these as a future reminder that I’m not dreaming.”

Before you can fire back, your response is cut off as a sigh from your mouth as he presses his middle finger into your entrance. His hungry eyes locked on it as he slowly drags it in and out of you, slightly curving to hit you just where you crave it. Your hips instinctively arch to meet him, hoping to pull his finger deeper into you. Willing him to give you more. To your disappointment, he pulls back.

“Come on Fives, what the fuck?”

“You said you wanted me to shut up, so I found a much better use for my mouth.” He says as he crouches in between your spread legs, arms wrapping around them. You feel his breath, hot against your pussy. The hair from his goatee grazes your sensitive inner thighs as he peppers kisses along you. But neither of you are in the mood for more teasing. His amber eyes lock with yours, filled with lust as he licks a long stripe from your entrance to your clit.

Your head rolls back to hit the counter, earning a slap on your thigh as Fives wordlessly demands you to keep your eyes on him. His tongue moves deftly and precisely, exploring your folds and lingering in the spots that make you gasp. He moves to your clit, rolling over your sensitive bundle of nerves with his warm, wet muscle. He circles around the bud, flicking over it swiftly to hit you right in the spot that makes you cry out.

Your moans transform him into a man possessed. Like he’s an addict and the only substance the can satisfy him is you. His lips latch on your clit as he sucks it, your hips trying to break free of his grasp at the pleasure. The sensation of his soft lips and the heat of his mouth around you is euphoric, but your entrance is craving attention. Fives releases your clit and laps along your pussy, suddenly probing your entrance then fucking you with his tongue. You’re thankful for the music in the club, otherwise someone would definitely have heard the cry that escaped your lips.

The pressure building in your core is slowly radiating throughout your entire body, waving throughout your nerves as you build up to your peak of pleasure. Fives is doing little to stop the movement of your hips bucking up to meet him, instead he uses it to his advantage so he can lap at you with increased further. His nose presses against your clit, the movement you’re assisting with adding more friction but not quite enough. His head tilts back so he can lock on your face again.

Your face is contorted in pleasure; cheeks burning red, eyebrows scrunched together, lips parted as moans roll off your tongue. You’re barely able to stay propped up, your arms getting weaker and weaker as ecstasy threatens to take over you. But you’re too focused on him to drop them, this man who’s usual purpose is to drive you crazy has reduced you to a muttering wreck just with his tongue inside you. Without breaking the gaze, he rubs two fingers in circles over your clit, one, two, three times and then you lose it.

“Fives!” You cry out as you come, your legs shaking around his head, your head smacking into the counter below you, and your back arching as Fives furiously devours you through your release. Your legs fall limp off the edge and onto his shoulders as he continues to lap along your folds, pushing you off your ledge into overstimulation. You gently nudge him back with a foot in his shoulder and he stands up, your release glistening on his goatee as he smirks at your still slightly trembling mess.

“You taste even better than I imagined you would.” He growls before taking another kiss from you. You might have had your tension relieved, but now he was ready to take his turn. Giving you no time for reprieve, he flips you over and pulls you closer to the edge of the counter so your ass and legs dangle off. You hear a thud on the ground that must be his codpiece. You try to press your ass back to him, trying to gauge to size of him by grinding against him but your movements are met by a harsh slap on your rear. You yelp in response.

“Ah come on now,” He tuts as his hand rubs along the mark it left. “You were so worked up before, where’s that fire now?”

You tilt your bed back at him, as you pant out, your breath still not fully recovered. He’s standing behind you, the one hand on your ass and other striking his thick, long, hard cock. You lick your lips looking at it, you know it will be a stretch but in this moment you want nothing more than to feel his length inside you.

Your eyes meet his again, and you feel the familiar irritation course through your veins as you see the smug look dancing through his amber irises. “Fuck you,” you snarl out, regretting it once you see his eyes darken.

He sheathes himself inside you in one thrust, making you scream. Even with the glimpse at him you had before, you're overwhelmed by his thickness as he stretches you. He pulls himself almost all the way out again just to impale you again with an even quicker thrust as he starts to fuck you.

“What was that?” He goades, as he sets into a relentless pattern of deep thrusts. You whimper beneath him as he splits you open. He thrusts harder as you fail to respond.“Sorry, couldn’t quite catch that.”

He sets a quicker pace, still managing to hit you in a spot that renders you thoughtless with each stroke. Your arms flail out in front of you, trying to find anything to ground yourself on but only able to grasp along the faucets of the sinks you're situated between. He presses one hand on your upper back, the other on his hip as he continues to fuck you into the counter, your thighs being squished between his armor and the cool durasteel. With your previous orgasm happening so recently, you can feel your body already building to another one. You don’t even register the sound of the door opening over the harsh slap of his armor against your skin.

“Get the fuck out!” He shouts and you quickly hear the scrambling of feet and the door slamming. Your cheek is pressed the other way into the counter, so you couldn’t even see who walked in on you.

“You didn’t lock it?” You gasp out, finally able to string words together.

“I wasn’t exactly planning on this,” he admits in grunts, not deterred by the interruption as he continues to snap his hips into you. “But I have a feeling no one else is going to come in here for a while now.”

Before you can register the implications of his statement, he’s grabbing you by the hair and pulling your back to his armored chest plate.

“Look at yourself,” he growls as he nips at your earlobe. The mirror in front of you shows a version of yourself you barely even recognize. Hair disheveled, lipstick smeared around your lips, dress hiked up around you waist and the straps falling off your shoulder making one of your bra covered breasts peak through. He notices your disarray and doesn’t think it’s enough as he slides the hand from your hair, around and down your neckline to free the breast from its fabric cage and cover it with his own hand. His calloused thumb teases your nipple, making you clench around him as he groans.

“Is this what you were imagining?” He mutters, almost kissing your ear as he continues to play with your tit. His thrusts slow and shallow now as he teases you. “When you thought of me…is this as good as you imagined?”

“No…better!” You moan out, trying to bounce yourself on his dick so you can build up to another orgasm, but the hand on your hips holds you steady as he stills. He kisses down your earlobe and to your neckline where he plants a hickey. His eyes lock with yours in the mirror as he lets out a small chuckle.

“Who knew you could be such a little slut, letting me fuck you in the bathroom while all our friends are outside.” His hand leaves your breast to wrap around your neck. His grip isn't very tight, not enough to choke you but just enough to remind you that it’s him who’s doing this to you. “But you wouldn’t do this with just anyone, would you?”

You shake your head furiously, rotating your hips so you can try and force him to move again. “No, only you!” You cry out, hands grasping against the edge of the counter as you press back into him.

He groans and kisses you delicately on the cheek. “That’s what I thought.”

His next thrusts are brutal, his grip on your hip must be bruising you as he fucks up into you. The hand on you neck tighten more to hold you up so you can watch yourself in the mirror as he ruins you. Your hands leave the counter, one meeting the hand on your hips and the other reaching back to grasp at his pauldron.

This angle lets him hit a spot that makes you cry out with every thrust, your legs reduced to a trembling mess around his own as you build to another orgasm. His thickness stimulating your walls in ways you didn’t think possible as you grip him and feel every groove on his hot and heavy member.

Sweat is breaking out in his brow as he pistons in and out of you, his own moans meeting yours in tandem. His thrusts loose their rhythm, becoming more and more erratic as your breath hitches higher.

“Come on, pretty girl I know you have another in you.” He grunts into your ear. The hand on your throat tightens as he growls, “Come all over my cock.”

You cry out his name again as you come, your pussy fluttering around him as your body spasms. The electricity spending all the energy you had left in your body from coming twice in such close succession. He releases your neck and you fall forward into the counter, both his hands on your hips as he fucks you like a ragdoll to chase his release.

“Where can I -?” He grunts out, breath escaping his lips with every word as he struggles to hold on.

“Inside, please!” You moan. His grunts turn into strangled groans as you feel his cock twitch inside you, webs of warm cum coating your inside. His thrusts slow and he collapses on top you. With the added weight of his armor, it's almost too heavy for you, but you’re too spent to care. After a moment, he kisses the back of your neck and pulls himself out of you, groaning at the sight of his cum leaking from your entrance.

You push yourself off the counter, struggling to stand from how weak your legs are. You adjust your dress as best you can, and wipe off the smeared lipstick around your lips. You turn around to Fives tucking himself back into his blacks. He grabs the codpiece off the ground and looks to you as if about to say something, something smart no doubt. You see some of your lipstick is stained on his lips as well and you chuckle. Walking up to him, you bring a thumb to his lips and smear it more.

“Guess I made a mess out of you, Trooper.” He rolls his eyes as he grabs you by the arm and starts pulling you out of the refresher. “Wait, what are you doing?”

“We’re leaving - I haven’t had enough of you yet.”

[rex-meshla]

Clones I wish got more attention in fanfiction...

Captain Howzer | Commander Keeli | Commander Bly | Commander Colt

*btw, you can find my Howzer and Colt fics here x

[amandamadeathing]

I can't find the original image to reboot and credit, but here you go.

TECH: When I analyzed Omega's DNA, I noticed an anomaly in her blood. Upon further research, she has a high volume of midichlorians."

WRECKER: What does that mean?

TECH: There was a correlation between a "high M-Count" and a Jedi's abilities using the Force.

OMEGA: Does this mean I'm a Jedi?!

TECH: Possibly. You would need extra training by a Jedi to use those skills.

ECHO: I've never noticed she has Force skills.

TECH: I thought her ability to connect with animals was an obvious manifestation of such abilities.

HUNTER: I am sensitive to vibrations. Do I have the Force?

TECH: It seems of the Kaminoans' experimental Clones, only Omega was specifically given a high M-count, which probably explains why she is so valuable to Nala Se and the Empire.

ECHO: Now we know what we're up against. Thankfully, we don't need to collaborate with any suspicious women to get this information. We must find a more secure location to hide. I will contact Rex immediately.

[leenathegreengirl]

Those pretty curls (just like his twin!)….and is that a little smile I see? I think our boy is healing 😭💚💕

@legacygirlingreen @thora-sniper @sukithebean @thecoffeelorian @neyswxrld @somewhere-on-kamino @clonethirstingisreal @royallykt @morerandombullshit @burningfieldof-clover @tbnrpotato @keantha @anxiouspineapple99

[ivorydragoness44]

I... don't remember writing this??

Where has this even been???

{Imagine taking some of your favorite boys on a well-deserved vacation.}

~~~~

“All right, your turn,” said Rex, plopping down next to you, his eyes already closed.

“Five more minutes?”

“You agreed to this. And besides—I gave you ten extra.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t know that I was signing up to be a chaos coordinator.”

Meanwhile, beyond the shade of the small tent, Echo was sunbathing unapologetically to restore his skin to a healthy glow.

“Can you at least have the decency to put your swim-trunks back on?” Asked of Jesse, looking down at his brother.

“No.”

Taking a breath, you looked around and mentally took count of the clones. You did this twice before your eyes grew wide.

“FIVES!” You hollered. “Check on your brother!”

“Which one?”

Tup popped his head out of the water, his long locks pooling around his shoulders.

“Never-mind!”

[adhd-coyote]

I think if post-O66 Fox woke up having time traveled to the beginning of the war, he wouldn’t make any long term plans or strategies or even take time to write down what he remembered. He’d march straight to the Chancellor’s office and shoot him because he’s not fucking doing this shit again.