#clone trooper sister x reader

[multi-fan-dom-madness]

Midnight Masquerade - Sister

Chapter Summary: The bottle lands on Sister. Awkward sapphic giggling ensues.

Chapter Warnings: 18+ minors be gone from this land; dryad!Sister x f!reader. kinks: bondage + vines/tentacles. awkward and cute sapphic flirting, first time, outdoor sex, very very brief mentions of space gender affirming care; author has never had a sexual experience with someone with fem-coded anatomy so I take full responsibility for any errors or misrepresentations of sapphic sex; if I missed anything, please let me know!!

A/N: come talk to me about Sister and gender affirming care for clones because I have Many Thoughts

Word Count: 2.9k

Read the intro here! | Suggested listening

...Sister. 

Her eyes light up as the bottle comes to a halt, rocking in place on the table. Butterflies beat in your stomach at her excited, if shy, expression, the way she tucks a braided vine behind her ear. Fives claps Sister on the shoulder and pushes a fresh shot into her hands—which she hastily gulps down. Her green-tinted skin darkens a shade. Giving her a crooked grin, you stand and hold a hand out, silently beckoning. 

She scrambles out of her seat and hurries to join you. Taking your hand, she threads your fingers together gently, the warm, calloused pads of her digits caressing your knuckles. You shiver in delight. 

“Hi,” you say, breathless. 

“Hey,” she says. “Where to?” 

Glancing around, you take in the sight of so many transformed clones. You’d seen a back hallway earlier, but without knowing what lays beyond it, you’re hesitant to head that way. The blaring music, vibrating in your chest, is becoming a bit too much; the sickly sweet scent of the fog machines overpowers every other sense. A moment of overstimulation threatens to envelop you; Sister’s firm pressure on your hand grounds you. Fitting, you think wryly, appreciating her nature-themed aesthetic.

“Let’s get some air,” you suggest. 

Without a word, she leads you through the packed dance floor to the front entrance. As you trail her, you can’t help but notice things about her that you’ve never picked up on before—things normally hidden behind plastoid armor and grainy holocall reception. Her dress, dappled in shades of green, threaded through with flowers of varying kinds, clings to her figure. Her legs, thick and muscled and long, draw your attention as you shuffle behind her through the crowd. Kark, you realize you’ve never seen any of the clones in such little clothing; Sister wears her verdant dress with the same ease and confidence as she does her combat armor. Heat swirls up your veins in time with your heartbeat.

Finally, she pushes the door open. You emerge into a landscape draped in silver moonlight; the massive crystals shine, their internal glow dim in comparison to the heavy, full moon hanging in the sky above. The cool night air washes over you and chases away some of the sweat and heat from the party—though it does nothing to assuage the slick warmth beginning to simmer in your lower belly. 

Especially not when Sister tilts her head to the star-speckled sky and sighs, a contented smile curving her glossed lips. In the moonlight, she looks positively radiant, nearly aglow like the crystalline structures around you. Her hair, a tastefully braided mass of vines, swishes in the breeze. 

Raising your joined hands, you gently press your lips to the back of her hand. Her eyes flutter open in surprise. 

“Will you tell me what your costume is?” you ask. Having grown up on Coruscant, you’re not sure you’ve ever really seen so much green foliage in one place before. 

Sister’s smile widens. “A dryad. A nature spirit. One of the planets we visited, the locals there told us stories about how nature spirits protect them in times of need. Said they’re the most beautiful creatures they’ve seen. I...wanted to be that, just for one night.” 

Your heart leaps at her words. “I don’t think you need to dress up and drink a magic potion to be beautiful.” 

“Oh, I know,” she says, winking. “I just wanted the extra confidence boost.” 

“Is that so?” You tug on her hand and begin walking in a random direction, wanting to move away from the pulsing music, barely muffled by the doors behind you. “Any particular reason?”

She hums. “Maybe.” 

You walk in silence for a few moments. Though she tries to hide it, you pick up on the nervousness in her gait and the nearly imperceptible way her grip tightens around your hand. The farther you roam from the building, the more peaceful the night becomes; at some point, the chirping song of crickets provides a new song to listen to. Beside you, Sister steals glances out of the corner of her eyes when she thinks you aren’t looking—except you’re doing the same, and you keep catching one another. 

After a while, she draws a deep breath. “The reason is,” she says, “that I thought I might be seeing you tonight. Wanted to... I don’t know, dress up for you. My vod’e said that they do that all the time when they go out, but I’ve never felt the impulse until tonight.” 

“Oh.” A shy kind of warmth blooms in your chest. “I— I don’t know what to say.” 

When her face falls, you mentally kick yourself and hurry to explain. 

“Not in a bad way!” you rush. “I just— well, I, um, I’ve never been with a- a woman before and- I—” 

“Me either,” she says. She comes to a halt, bringing you to rest in the midst of a small clearing, shielded on all sides by pink and blue crystals. Her eyes remain on yours, dark wells of openness and vulnerability so raw it steals your breath. “Kark, I want to get this right, you know?” 

Nodding, you offer her a small smile, one that she returns.

“First time for everything, right?” you say, voice quiet, afraid to disturb the peacefulness of the night. 

She steps closer, her warmth enveloping you like a hug. Peering up at her through your eyelashes, you catch your bottom lip between your teeth, nerves and attraction and desire all coursing through you, colliding at the apex of your thighs. She smells like moist earth and sweet flowers and freshly-cut grass—smells you’re unfamiliar with but that you’re instantly able to identify. As the two of you move closer, chests pressing together, you can’t help the way your breathing catches in your throat. 

“Sister?” you murmur. 

Her eyes drop to your lips. “Yes, sweetling?”

“I’d like to kiss you.” 

“I’d like that, too,” she breathes. 

Releasing her grasp at last, you tentatively rest your hand on her toned waist, the fabric of her dress simultaneously smooth like glossy leaves and spongy like moss. You tilt her head down with a gentle, yet firm, grip on her chin—and then her lips are on yours. 

It’s a tentative, chaste, sweet first kiss, and yet no less debilitating for it. Knees wobbling, you bite back a moan as she tilts her head, drawing you deeper. Her hands splay over your back to press you tighter against her, and you feel more than hear the satisfied groan when her breasts smush against yours. Sliding your hand from her chin to cup the back of her head, you lick at her lips. 

She pulls back briefly and you worry, for an instant, that you’ve pushed too far—but her eyes are dark and blown with lust, chest heaving, and she dives back into you like a woman parched. Opening herself to you, her tongue meets yours and slides along it hot and wet and needy. You finally release the moan you’ve been holding, and she responds in kind.

“K-Kriff,” you gasp once you pull away. “Kriff, you’re so hot. Want you so bad.”

“I’m yours,” she says with a lopsided smile that makes your heart skip a beat. “Do you want to go back and find a r—”

“No,” you interrupt, perhaps a bit too aggressively, because she chuckles and kisses you again. 

“Alright,” she says. She seems to finally take in your surroundings for the first time. “If you take your clothes off, I can make sure we don’t get too much dirt on us.” 

Dirt? You distinctly recall there being a blanket of crystalline shards on the ground. But when you look down, this small clearing you’re in is a bed of warm soil. As you watch, a bed of grass and vines curls up through the soil and creates a roughly circular bed. Sister flashes a toothy grin at her newfound powers.

Smiling, you step back from her to shuck your clothes and lay them over the vines. When you turn to face her again, she’s also undressed, her tan and toned body gleaming dully in the moonlight. Your jaw drops. Fingers twitching, you ache to reach out and touch her, slick gushing between your folds.

Sister gives a shy smile. “I, um—well, the General pulled some strings. Got me the best gender affirming surgery the galaxy has to offer.” 

“That’s amazing,” you murmur. “I’m really glad you have that much support.” 

She hums. “Anyways. Want to apologize before we go any further,” she says. 

Eyebrows furrowing in confusion, you cock your head. “What for?” 

“Well,” she says, “this isn’t exactly going to be a ‘normal’ first time with a woman, is it?” She gestures to herself. “Not when I’m like this.” 

“I mean, you have flowers in your hair, but what—” You cut off with a strangled gasp. The feeling of something warm and curious slithering up your leg sends a jolt of surprise through you. When you look, you find a vine, the same as Sister’s hair, just thicker, curling around the meat of your calf and climbing to your thigh. “Oh. Oh.” 

She laughs. “So again, apologies.” 

Your cunt throbs with need. “None needed. Kriff, c’mere.” 

You tug her towards you again, lips colliding in a heated, passionate dance. There’s no struggle for dominance, just a give and take, push and pull, that leaves your head spinning and body alight with anticipation. Sister gently pulls you to the ground so that you’re kneeling in front of one another. As the vine continues to wind up your leg, your core tightens; when the blunt, warm tip of it brushes along the seam of your cunt, you gasp into Sister’s mouth. 

“Tell me if it’s too much,” she says, gazing into your eyes. 

Voice failing you, you simply nod your agreement. Your hands find purchase at her hips, squeezing the soft flesh there. Her thumb strokes delicately along your cheekbone as the warm head of the vine prods against your clit, then begins to circle it, slowly, agonizingly, sinfully. You keen, the pressure enough to make your entire body seize for a moment. Sister muffles your cries with her mouth. 

“So wet for me,” she mumbles against your lips as her vine gathers some of your slick before returning to your clit. 

One of your hands trails from her hip down between her thighs. Gasping, you trail the pad of your middle finger along her puffy lips, swollen and silken with arousal. It takes you a moment, not used to touching a woman’s anatomy from this angle, but once you find her clit, a surge of pride and victory lifts through you at the whispered sigh that escapes her. Her hips buck into your hand. 

“P-Please,” she mumbles, dropping her head to your shoulder. “Please.”

“Please what?” you ask. Pressing a kiss to her cheek, you match the pace that her vine has taken up as it circles your own clit. 

“I don’t know,” she says, voice tinged with humor and lust. “Just feels so good. So kriffin’ good.”

“Me too,” you murmur. “Can I taste you?” 

The noise she makes sounds strangled, and you grin against the skin of her neck. She nods furiously. “Yes. Stars, yes.” 

“Lay back.” You gently maneuver her onto her back—her vine never leaving your cunt, but never changing its pace or pressure—and spread her legs. In the moonlight, her pussy glistens. With a groan, you settle between her thighs and lower your mouth to her, too impatient to tease. Kriff, you’ve dreamed of this, of eating someone out until they sobbed for you, but you never thought you’d get your chance tonight. 

She watches you, propped up on her elbows, as you close your lips around her swollen clit. Keeping your eyes on hers, you moan against her pussy, tongue tracing her sensitive nub, tangy taste exploding across your taste buds. Sister pants, skin dewing with sweat. Reverently, you reach up her body as you eat her cunt, fingers finding purchase around one of her breasts. Her head tilts back, column of her throat long and exposed. The sight makes your own cunt clench. 

Licking up from her entrance to her clit, you’re distracted, momentarily, by the way her chest heaves with exertion—but the moment passes when her vine wanders down to your own entrance and probes gently. You flatten your tongue and eat her for all you’re worth, slurping her arousal, fingers tweaking her nipple. Sister groans, the sound drawn-out and breathy. 

“F-Fuck.” Her grip on the back of your head tightens, holding you in place as she grinds her cunt over your tongue. “Fuck, wanna cum for you.” 

All you can do is moan in agreement. With your other hand, you gather some of her wetness. You simply rest your finger at her entrance, the same way her vine is only barely pushed into your own cunt, but the hint of penetration makes Sister convulse, her pussy fluttering under your mouth. You seal your lips around her clit and suck, sliding your finger into her at the same time.

She cums beautifully. Her entire body locks up, her thighs threatening to close around your head, her eyes locked on yours as she comes apart, mouth forming a perfect ‘o’. You suckle her sensitive cunt through the entire thing, only backing off with a wet pop when she weakly pushes on your forehead. 

Wiping her juices from your chin, you grin at her. “That was so kriffin’ hot.” 

“Let me return the favor,” she pants. 

Her vine finally pushes into your slick pussy with no resistance; you both moan. Pussy clenching around the intrusion, your hips buck involuntarily, seeking friction on your clit. Sister’s fingers are there immediately, slowly circling the bundle of nerves. Dimly, you’re aware of several other warm tendrils snaking over your sweaty skin: wrapping around your ankles, gliding up to your arms, one encircling your throat lightly. Sister tugs you forward and swallows your moans as your body is thrust over the edge of orgasm without warning. 

Once you come down, body still twitching, you half expect Sister’s costume to revert to exactly that—but it seems that she is still a dryad, if the vines wreathing your heated skin are any indication. Sister peers up at you with hooded lids. 

“How you feelin’?” she asks. 

“Like I want to cum for you again,” you answer immediately. 

She ducks her head. “Can I try something?” 

You nod your eager consent. She positions you both so that you’re straddling her nearly sideways, one of her legs thrown up over your shoulder, and her other thigh restrained against your own with a pulsing vine. Another vine secures your arms behind your back, and a third continues to rest around your neck. Chest heaving in excitement, you roll your hips experimentally, soaked folds meeting Sister’s. You both whimper and whine. 

“Think you can cum like this?” she says. 

“Kark, yes.” You fidget with your stance as much as you can given the restraints, until you’re happy with the way that your cunt rests against hers. Rocking your hips, you toss your head back at the smooth glide of skin over skin, pussy against pussy. Sister watches you with hooded, adoring eyes, her face twisted in an expression of bliss with every thrust of your hips. 

That hot, tangled web of pleasure begins to wind up again in your belly. Judging by the way Sister writhes beneath you, she’s getting close again, as well. You rub your cunt against hers feverishly, chasing a high that promises to shove you even closer to the stars than the previous one. 

One more vine slithers up your front and taps against your lips. Without hesitation, you open your mouth. It’s warm and slightly sticky, and you groan around it. 

“You’re so beautiful like this,” Sister gasps out. “Gonna make me fuckin’ cum.” 

Curious, you give a tentative lick to the vine in your mouth. You’re rewarded by a particularly loud moan and a jolt of Sister’s hips. Chuckling, you repeat the motion, grinding your hips down harder. Sister keens, eyes screwing shut. 

The pair of you cum together like that, her vines pulsing against your skin as she convulses beneath you; your own orgasm punching the breath from your lungs as you soak her. You don’t stop, jerking your hips in a sloppy rhythm as your cunt flutters, pleasure cresting through you again and again. Only when the vines retract, Sister’s hair and skin returning to their normal tones, the flowers wilting and scattering as ash in the chilled breeze, do you nearly collapse on top of her. 

You catch yourself on shaky arms. Beneath you, her expression reassembles into something vaguely coherent. 

She laughs. A matching giggle bubbles up from your chest and joins hers. Leaning down, you capture her lips in a kiss, sweet and short. 

“Not bad for a first time,” you mumble against her mouth. 

“‘Not bad’?” She scoffs playfully. “That was kriffin’ amazing. Fuck.” 

Falling onto your side next to her, you pull her under the crook of your arm and press a kiss to the top of her head when she settles against your chest. Smoothing her frizzy curls, you sigh in contentment as you gaze up at the stars. Your combined body heat keeps the chill away; you’re in no rush to find your way back to the party, not with such a beautiful view up there, and an even more gorgeous woman beside you.

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[imarvelatstars]

She Walks In Starlight

Pairings: Clone Trooper Sister x f!Reader

Content: slight angst, rex's clone uprising, tbb s3 spoilers, vague description of blood and injuries, inspired by feast of starlight from the hobbit

Word Count: 2.6k

originally posted march 17th, 2024

[masterlist] [ao3 link]

Sister knows a disaster when she sees it; she's been through enough of them with the 212th. It's just that she's never had a disaster of this magnitude happen to her.

There's so much blood. It slicks her gloves until they're soaked, streaks across her armor until the pink and blue brushstrokes are entirely gone. And her heart. It's pounding in her ears so fiercely that she can feel the veins there ticking, feel her skin pulsating with each beat.

She scrambles out of the wreckage, but she's dizzy and her visor's busted, and everything feels��wrong. Everything's too tight, too constricting. Her body's hot and cold all at once. And her head hurts like a kriffing clanker just walloped her in the face.

The helmet comes off and clatters atop the cobbles she's crashed upon. Then her knees give out.

The world is hazy now, distant and far away. Something in the back of her mind screams that this is bad, but she can't find it in her to care. Somehow, that seems bad too.

With the last of her strength, she forces her eyes open and fixates on the burning wreckage of her ship. Hardly a ship now when it's busted into pieces and melting all over the forest floor. But she made it, she realizes in a moment of clarity, and that makes her smile. Even if she dies here, even if this is the end of her story, she's proud to have made it this far. She escaped the Empire and that was all she wanted.

Well. Almost.

A breeze comes drifting through the leaves then and as it stirs her hair, Sister finds herself regretting just one last thing. She wishes she could have seen you again.

"We need a medic!"

Whatever was left of your tiingilar goes spilling across the table as Samson, Greer, and Koa breach the main entrance, half tripping over themselves as they carry a- is that kriffing body? Fireball swipes the remainder of his shit off the table - a data pad, his helmet, his own empty bowl - while you run for the nearest medpac.

"She's bleeding out. I need gauze!"

It doesn't hit you until the moment you return, when you see her, what he's said. She.

The body. The body wearing clone armor, painted blue and pink at the joints and chest, covered in blood. Is it her own? Utterly frozen, your eyes drop to the chestplate that's scored with dirt and vibroblade marks, chipped with paint that you know like the back of your own hand. Maker help you, you know that armor. You know her. Even without the armor, you'd know her.

The medpac is ripped from your hands and someone's grabbing you, shouting at you, but you can't hear a single thing they're saying because she is everything - everything you see, everything your universe contains - and she is bleeding out on the table where you take your meals each day.

You reach for her, but you never manage to grab hold. "Sister," you say, but the word is gritty and raw, dry in your mouth. "Sister. She's..." You don't even dare to say it for fear of speaking the nightmare into existence. But she's bloody and pale, and she's not waking up. And you know she's probably going to die. "Help her."

It's then that you realize why you can't reach her. It's Echo. He's holding you back, a hand wrapped around your elbow and the scomp on your back. You turn to him, but you don't see him, can't see him. All you see is her. Her hair, her eyes, closed but you know they're dark and warm beneath the lids. You know the path of her scars and the shape of her callouses, and she's here and you can't find her, and you can't see Echo, and it's all too much because it's all so wrong.

"Echo," you start. You're squirming as he fights to hold you back. "Echo, she's, she's not... She's bleeding. Help her."

"Samson's got her taken care of," he assures you. "You need to give him room to work."

But you shake your head. "No." That's not right either. "She needs me."

She's dying. Why else would there be so much blood?

"What she needs is for you to give them space to save her. She'll be alright."

And maybe she will be. Perhaps in some other dimension, she makes it out of this alive, but that's not here, that's not now. Here and now, you're watching the woman you love bleed out on the dinner table and it's the first time you've seen her since before the Republic collapsed. And you'll be damned if you're not by her side the entire time.

Echo doesn't seem to see it the same way, and that's what gets you detained in a holding zone for the next hour.

"She's stable now," he tells you once he returns to let you out. "You okay?"

Kriff no, you're not okay. Your stomach is churning and the whole inside of your cheek is raw from chewing on it, and your leg won't stop bouncing nor will your heart stop pounding. Because you really thought you'd lost her.

But for his sake, you attempt a polite grimace. "Yeah. Can I see her?"

His palm flattens against the door controls. Heart in your throat, you follow him across the compound to the table she rests on. All of her armor's been removed and stacked in a vaguely neat pile along the nearby supply crates, but it's still stained with blood, all crusty and rusted pink. Her body is crisscrossed with gauze strips and bacta patches, her blacks torn to shreds to the point where they're hardly useful anymore. But she's there, alive, and realer than any dream you've had before.

"Cyare."

Your hand finds her jaw before you even realize you're doing it. And for a moment, one singular, fleeting moment, it's as if you're back on Coruscant, as if this war had never happened, as if she's just got back from deployment and you're welcoming her into your flat. The way it used to be. The way it should have been.

"What happened to you?" you ask, though there's no one to answer you. Sister may be alive, but she's thoroughly unconscious and likely will be for a while if her injuries are anything to go by.

Your hands find one of hers and lift it to your mouth to press a kiss there, like you always used to do, but your lips are met with gauze. And it breaks your fucking heart.

"It's okay. It's okay, baby." You kiss the wrinkled slip of gauze across her knuckles. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

Keeping busy is the only thing you can do. Your mind is too scattered to be of much use to anyone, so your usual duties are taken over by Greer, and the time spent anxiously waiting for Sister to wake is used on other things that won't drive you mad - checking her injuries and changing her bandages, scrubbing the blood from her armor, quietly whispering all the things you've longed to share with her in the year she's been gone. You tell her how you found Rex, the work you did in the early days of his rebellion shuttling food and clothes to the Martez repair shop. You tell her about the brothers that were lost and the brothers that were found, how every day you hoped and prayed you'd find her among the clones fleeing the Empire. You tell her that you never gave up searching, never stopped believing you'd find her again. You tell her you love her, but it's not enough to wake her.

Rex takes the empty end of the bench. "How're you holding up?"

The truth is too painful to verbalize, so you opt for a half-truth instead. "I'm okay. I'm just glad she's here."

He nods, almost smiling, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "You want me to watch her for a while?"

"No," you say far too quickly, and with a frantic urgency that should be embarrassing. It's not. Not when it's her. "Sorry. I just, I wanna be here when she wakes up."

A dozen different strings of thought seem to cross his mind then, though he doesn't speak any of them. Whatever he's thinking, he ultimately chooses to keep to himself. "I understand. It's not easy being the one who has to wait."

No, it's not.

"I'd suggest you take a break and get some sleep, but you're not gonna listen. Are you?"

You could apologize for it, but you'd both know it to be a lie. Instead, you offer Rex a smile that says everything you don't know how to say. He sighs.

"Once she's up. I promise."

"Alright." His hand rests gently on your shoulder and then he's gone.

Your attention returns to Sister, to the gentle rise and fall of her chest that marks a rhythm so familiar it might as well be carved into your very bones. "You'll be up soon, huh?" You lean in to nuzzle your cheek against the upper swell of her arm. "It'll be okay, cyare. I promise."

But by now, you're not sure if it's a promise you can keep. The Empire has taken so much from all of you, it would make sense for it to take her too. If you had never known she was still alive, it might have been easier. If you had been forced to endure the rest of your days believing in a dream that could never be, it might have been endurable, but now that you know she's been alive all this time, now that you know she tried to come to Teth and join the uprising, you're not sure you could ever know a moment of peace if she died here.

She has to live. There is no other option.

Hope comes late at night when the stars are out and your body has given in to exhaustion. You're stirred from your slumber when your head thunks solidly on the table. Still half asleep, you jerk into a sitting position and look around in an attempt to assess the situation. Is it an attack? Is something wrong? Is Sister alright?

"Mmh, where... am I?"

That voice. Oh Maker, that voice, you'd know it anywhere. You fear for the longest moment that it's a figment of your imagination, the product of your sleep-addled mind conjuring hallucinations, that this is all just another dream, but no. No, it's real. She's awake and blinking, frowning. She's alive.

You're so frantic to stand that you nearly trip over yourself trying to extract your legs from the bench. "Sister? Baby, are you-?"

"'s so dark," she slurs. "Can't... Where...?"

You're shouting before you even realize it. "Rex! Rex, she's awake!" You're so happy, you could cry. You are crying. "Cyare, honey, it's okay. It's me."

Her head tilts to one side, then the other as she tries to assess her surroundings, but it's clear she's struggling. A concussion, one of her brothers had said, a side effect of the crash that had nearly cost her life. Between that and the dimmed lights, it would be a miracle if she could make out anything in the entire compound.

Her furrowed gaze settles on you a moment later, only without a shred of recognition. "Who, who are you?"

Your heart is shattering. Every broken shard of it is piercing through your skin, ripping you apart from the inside out. Does she truly not remember you?

You press one of her hands to your face. "It's me, Sister, your..." Her what, exactly? There had never been a true label on the thing that simmered between you. In your head and in your heart, she had quite simply been yours as you had been hers. Now, though, you wish for a word deeper than girlfriend and more vibrant than lover. "You remember me?"

Rex, Nemec, and Samson come running in then with a couple of spare medpacs and wide, frantic eyes. Rex wordlessly asks for your hand - to take you away, no doubt, to let their brothers check her over. You know they need to, you know she needs the medical attention more than she needs you, but you hate having to leave her.

"No, wait, Rex, I can stay. Let me stay."

"That's not a good idea," he answers with a shake of his head. He's already starting to pull you away. "She'll be fine. Let's just give the boys some space, alright?"

You lunge for her hand as you're maneuvered apart. "Cyare, cyare, it's okay! It's okay, just stay awake for me, baby, okay? Rex, lemme-"

"Is that...?" It's as if your voice is a magnet, drawing her up until she's sitting upright, blindly searching the room for - for you? Your name is desperate on her tongue in the worst possible way. "Can't be..."

"Easy, vod," says Samson with a hand at her collarbone. "Lay back. You're still pretty roughed up."

Nemec leans in with a bacta stim. "Talk to me, Sister, okay? Can you do that?"

She frowns as she's laid back down. You've stopped struggling by now, but it's more from your own shock than anything else. This all feels too real and somehow not real enough. You're watching her as if through a lens, as if she were far away, as if your reality has ceased to exist while she wades through her the uncertainty of her own.

"What's the last thing you remember?"

Sister grunts when Samson starts swiping disinfectant over one of her wounds. "My ship... They shot me right before I, I went to hyperspace, and then..." She starts to sit up again, but Nemec holds her down. "Where is she?"

"Your ship crashed in the jungle. Not much of it left, I'm afraid."

"No." She says your name again, softer this time, as Rex's arms tighten around you. "She was here, but... She can't be." You know the separation is for the best, that you'd be little more than a distraction if you were free, but it kills you just the same.

The two brothers exchange looks.

"Made sure of it," she mutters, and her head falls back against the table. "'s not safe."

You strain against the press of the Captain's vambraces, but he holds fast. "Rex, please."

Nemec offers her a comforting pat on the shoulder. "It's alright, vod, you're safe now. The Empire's not gonna find you here. We'll get you all taken care of."

But she keeps babbling, mumbling half-finished sentences that don't make any sense, about Kamino, Coruscant, the Empire, you. She keeps asking for you as if she were indeed still stuck in a dream, caught somewhere else where the world is vast and hope is a sure thing.

"Promised her I'd come back. Never, never did. Now she's far away." She smiles in the prettiest way she ever has, half delirious and broken, and you swear nothing's ever hurt so much as this does. "She's... she's like, like starlight."

Samson's head tilts in your direction, eyes dark and tired, but you think he might be inclined to smile. He applies another bacta patch to the worst of the wounds with gentle, steady hands. "Tell us about her."

"She's gone," she laments. "She'll forget about me. 's, 's for the best..."

Later, though, when the boys are gone and she's lucid, you'll tell her just how wrong she is. You'll tell her how you would have waited a lifetime for her, you'll tell her that she's too deeply imprinted on your heart for you to ever love another. And you'll hold her 'til the stars fall from the sky, 'til the universe crumbles around you. You'll tell her that she is the truest starlight you've ever known, always illuminating the darkest night with her brilliantly shimmering heart and her undying hope. You'll tell her that she walks in starlight in another world, and you're simply blessed to follow along in her wake.

[fandom-friday]

for fandom friday, I humbly submit my duology for Sister and her reader gf - Cyare (https://www.tumblr.com/imarvelatthestars/735573711477997568/cyare?source=share) & She Walks In Starlight (https://www.tumblr.com/imarvelatthestars/745237232395436032/she-walks-in-starlight?source=share). I had a lot of fun writing them & contributing for the small-ish fandom her character has developed 💕

- imarvelatthestars 💙

I love seeing more Sister content out there, and these seem absolutely lovely (and angsty in all the right places hehe). I still have to read the books where she's included, but they're absolutely on my list. Also, your headers are GORGEOUS (I know, not plot relevant, but as someone that takes an obsessive amount of time on each of mine, I LOVE a good header). Thanks so much for sending both of these in!

Participate in Fandom Friday to show your favorite creators from this week some love! :)

[rare-clone-fic-exchange]

Constellations

I apologize for being so totally late with this, but I hope my bestie, @multi-fan-dom-madness enjoys this gift written with love! 

Summary: Your love of flowers and your clumsiness leave you and Sister under the influence of a powerful aphrodisiac, and it's just the excuse you need to fall into each other. 

Inspired by the song: Constellations by Jade LeMac

Pairing: Clone Trooper Sister x GN!Reader

Rating: E - MINORS DNI

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Sex pollen, oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, mutual pining, implied thigh riding towards the end

A/N: Sister is a transfem clone, and I hope that I handled her with the care and respect she deserves. Writing this under the assumption that she was able to receive gender affirming care and surgery. Header by me, and dividers by @dystopicjumpsuit

Sister always enjoyed scouting duty. It gave her a chance to stretch her legs, clear her head, and enjoy time with nature. Real nature. Not that Kamino’s endless ocean wasn’t nature. It just wasn’t the kind you could relax in. Not like the forest your squad found itself in now. 

It was properly lush, and Sister couldn’t help but smile as she watched you surreptitiously gathering flowers. The rest of the squad was equally enamored with the bright blossoms, and lush foliage. Brightly colored insects flitted across the path, occasionally landing atop their helmets, or resting on the tips of their blasters. 

She’d been excited when you volunteered to join them, as the two of you had been spending more and more time together, and you always left her craving more. This scouting mission meant time away from most prying eyes with the exception of Dice and Torch, but the twins were too busy looking for trouble to get into to worry about you and Sister. 

You’d stepped off the beaten path intent on reaching a softly glowing bloom to add to your bouquet. 

“Not too far, mesh’la,” Sister called, pausing to watch you pick your way through the undergrowth. 

“I just wanna grab those, and then I’ll be right back,” you replied, singularly focused on your target. “Go on, I’ll catch up.”

Sister opened her mouth to protest when the comm crackled to life, and a couple of the others reported in from farther ahead. She turned her head towards them, distracted just long enough for your foot to find unstable ground, and send you tumbling down the steep embankment. 

“Kark!” Sister hissed, as she rushed towards where she’d last seen you.

Gazing down the embankment, Sister’s sharp eyes caught sight of you immediately. Far more gracefully than your own descent, Sister made her way to your side. 

Kneeling down next to you, her brow furrowed. “Are you ok? Anything broken?”

“Just my pride,” you wheezed out before sitting up. 

You frowned when you realized the flowers you’d picked had been destroyed in the fall, including the glowing blue one you’d been trying to get. Several of its thick soft petals were now sticking to you, along with a thick band of magenta pollen across your nose and cheeks, if your reflection in Sister’s visor was to be believed. 

Sister grinned behind her bucket, grateful you couldn’t see the fully enamored look on her face. You looked adorable. A flower goddess in tactical gear. 

She straightened up and held out a hand to get you back on your feet. 

“Thanks,” you said sheepishly just before you sneezed softly, causing petals to drift away from your face. 

Sister brushed her fingers over your nose and cheeks attempting to move the sticky pollen, but most of it stayed put like glowing freckles while some clung to her gloved hand. 

“Let’s get back to the others, yeah?” She asked, resting a gentle hand against your lower back to guide you back up to the main pathway. 

Your heart jumped at the intimate gesture, sparking an internal debate over whether it could mean more, or if she was just making sure your clumsy ass didn’t go tumbling back down. Ultimately, you decided it didn’t matter because it just felt so good for her to touch you, to be close to you. 

As you reached the main road again and continued on after the rest of the team, you found yourself upset at the loss of contact. You shifted to walk closer to her, relaxing slightly as her arm brushed yours. 

But it wasn’t enough. 

Heat bloomed under your skin, as she continued to brush against you with every step. Unbidden your mind conjured images of her sliding her hands over your thighs to reveal your glistening sex to her. You shook your head to clear it, but more lewd images took its place. 

Sister’s muscular thigh pressed up against your core. 

Your lips trailing down her throat. 

Her tongue circling one of your nipples. 

Your fingers buried in her thick, soft curls. 

You cleared your throat and took a deep breath. The thoughts weren’t new, but they usually didn’t push their way into your mind so forcefully. They were polite and arrived upon request when you were all alone and looking for a release. 

“Are you ok, cyar’ika?” Sister asked, stopping and catching you by the elbow, so she could get a look at you. 

“Yeah, just…tired. A little sore from the fall. Nothing a good rest won’t fix!”

Sister tilted her head at you, the attitude was clear even with the bucket shielding her face, and you offered her a little grin, and a half shrug.

“You’ll tell me if that changes, yeah?” She asked, her thumb rubbing absently over your arm as she held you in place.

You nodded, not trusting your voice. It was just your elbow. It shouldn’t have made your heart race that she was touching it, but it did. It shouldn’t have made you want to whimper, but it did.

Halfway to the campsite you were so wound up and overheated, you could feel the sweat pooling at your lower back. You wanted nothing more than an ice bath and your vibrator. You weren’t picky about which order you got them in either.

By the time you made it to the campsite, you were burning up. A thin sheen of sweat glistened on your skin, and the ache between your legs was unbearable. You were leaning on Sister for support, and whining softly.

“You said you’d tell me if things changed,” Sister scolded, as she helped you into your tent. 

You would have had a smart retort, but you were so thrilled she was touching you, you kept it to yourself. Without waiting to be alone, you started stripping down, fighting with your body glove, as it stuck to your damp skin.

“You’re the doctor here, what’s the diagnosis?” she asked, as she reached out to help you undress amidst the noises of frustrations emitting from you.

“I don’t know. I felt fine all day, but now I just,” you hesitated, as the day played out in your mind. You moved on auto pilot, getting down on your knees and digging in your pack for your vibrator.

Sex pollen was a myth, or so you thought, but it was the only explanation for the way you’d been fine one minute, and painfully aroused and delirious the next. You were too embarrassed to explain what was going on with you to Sister. What if she thought it was just a weird ploy to get in her armor? 

She was so close though. Warm, and reassuring. Gorgeous and loving.

In your distraction, you’d missed Sister pulling off her bucket, and reaching up to rub her nose, as she knelt close to you.

“Sister, you shouldn’t-!” You reached for her forearm, but it was too late, the trooper had already rubbed her nose with the pollen covered glove. 

She dropped her arm, nose scrunched, as she met your feverish gaze.

“Why?” You groaned in embarrassment, “Because the pollen of that plant is an aphrodisiac. That’s why I’m-” You gestured to your vibrator, as you whipped it out of your pack. “I’ll be masturbating until the charge runs out…” “I’m sure it’ll be ok, cyar’ika,” She said, leaning forward to cup your cheek, and doing her best to ignore the sight of your vibrator, and the thought of you using it.. “Fett genes and all. I’m more worried about you. What can I do?”

“Oh…well,” you paused. You knew what you wanted to ask her. You wanted to ask her to stay close, to watch, to touch. “I could stay,” she offered. “Just to make sure your temp doesn’t spike, ya know? I can turn around.” “No!” You blurted out, before slapping a hand over your mouth. Sister carefully tugged your hand away from your face, as she said, “It’s ok, you can tell me.” “I want you to watch,” you said after a long moment.

Sister felt a current sparking beneath her skin. Her eyes trailed over your naked form, and she bit her bottom lip. Arousal curled around her core, spiraling outward to set fire to every nerve ending in her body. She began to wonder if she’d spoken too highly of those Fett genes.

She pulled her gloves off, and reached forward to cup the back of your head, as she smiled. “Could I do more than watch?”

As if that’s what your desire-addled brain needed to hear, you dropped your toy and cupped her face with your hands, pressing your lips to hers. Your eyes slipped closed, and you almost felt relieved as her arms wrapped around your waist and tugged you close. The plastoid of her armor soothed your heated skin, but you needed more. With a lusty sigh, her lips parted, and your tongue slipped into her mouth, finally answering your question about how her kisses would taste. 

They tasted like you’d never get enough of her, like falling down that hill was the best thing you could’ve done, like you hated yourself for waiting so long to make your move. 

She was all you’d been craving for weeks, and the feeling of her hands, finally bare, trailing over your hips, one cupping your ass, while the other traveled up your back to pull you flush against her was almost too much. 

And still you craved more. 

“I’m so sorry. I just…I need you,” you panted out, as your fingers fought with Sister’s armor. “Need to feel you.” Sister was torn between helping you get her out of her armor, and getting her hands on every inch of you.

“Kriff,” she swore, as she reluctantly released you to shed her armor in record time. The pieces scattered unceremoniously on the floor. 

You were on her instantly. Your fingers gripped the waistband of her blacks and began working them off of her hips and over her muscular thighs, which you couldn’t resist biting. The most obscene sound left you, muffled only by her flesh. 

She tugged her top off, and reached down to cup the back of your head. You looked up at her, clenching around nothing at her bright brown eyes, pupils blown wide with lust. 

Without breaking eye contact, you trailed your tongue up her thigh, one hand slid up the back of one of her legs to her ass. You kneaded the firm flesh, as your breath fanned over her cunt. 

“Lie down, mesh’la,” you said, your voice soft and needy. 

Sister pulled away from you to grab her sleeping bag and bring it close to yours, and you took the opportunity to retrieve your vibrator. 

“But your fever,” she countered even as she laid out on the sleeping bag. Knees bent, feet planted, thighs parted to present herself to you. 

“Fuck my fever. You look. So. Delicious,” you whined, irritated that you were wound too tightly to savor her. 

You really hoped Dice and Torch didn’t waltz into your tent because they would get a nice view of your vibrator sliding through your folds, as you buried your face in Sister’s pussy. 

You swirled your tongue around her entrance gathering her taste on your tongue, before you worked up to her clit. Your free hand held the outside of her thigh, fingers digging into the muscle, as you licked and sucked at her cunt like you’d been dying to do for weeks. 

Sister was on cloud nine, looking down to meet your heavy lidded gaze between her thighs was the most beautiful sight. Her hips bucked against your face, as you drove her closer and closer to her climax. She reached down to gently rub her fingertips against your scalp. The quiet buzz of your vibrator and the slight movements of your arm made her eager to come, so she could see your pleasure up close.

“Cyar’ika,” she groaned. “Need to taste you. Want you to ride my face.”

You mewled against her, as you worked the vibrator against your clit faster. It felt so good, but it wasn’t getting you there like it normally did. “Sister, please,” you begged desperately. “Need to make you cum first.”

Sister tumbled into the abyss of pleasure, whimpering your name, as you licked her through her orgasm. Her thighs were still shaking when she looked down to see your lips shining with her juices, and she nearly came again at the sight. 

“So fucking pretty,” she sighed, her tone intimate and inviting. “Let me taste you. Wanna see how wet you are.”

She didn’t need to ask you twice. You switched off the vibrator and set it to the side before kissing and biting your way up her body. Your teeth left marks on her thighs and hips, your tongue trailed languidly over the planes of her stomach, and you sucked and licked at her nipples. 

She writhed beneath you, running her hands over your body as you brought the object of her desire closer and closer. “Sorry, mesh’la,” she panted, sitting up and sliding her hands beneath you to grip your thighs and haul you up to her face. “Sit.” 

On a normal night, hearing that from her would have been enough, but with the aphrodisiac still running rampant through your body you could only obey and lower your cunt to her lips.

She flattened her tongue to lick from your entrance to your clit, and you rolled your hips, as you cried out. Waves of pleasure washed over you with every movement of her tongue, and you buried your fingers in her thick curls and rode her face like you’d die if your hips ceased their movement.

Sister moaned into your pussy, as she devoured you like her last meal. One of her hands dug into your thigh to keep you close, while the other reached up to pinch and roll your nipple between her dexterous fingers.

“Sister!” You nearly screamed, as your back arched, and your body shook with the force of your orgasm. 

The intensity whited out your vision for a moment, but Sister didn’t stop. She maneuvered you onto your back, and pressed two fingers inside your fluttering walls, crooking her fingers to find that sensitive place inside you. 

“Too much,” you whimpered, even as your hips bucked against her hand.

“One more, cyar’ika,” she begged, her free hand moving between her legs to bring herself to another orgasm while she pulled yours out of you. “For me? Let me feel your perfect cunt around my fingers.” “Anything,” you answered breathlessly. “Anything and everything for you.”

“You’re always so good for me,” she purred, leaning down to capture one of your stiff peaks between her teeth gently before soothing over it with her tongue.

Your second climax hit you harder than your first. Your pleasure wrapped around you, and gripped you tightly before slowly releasing you. You collapsed beneath Sister, whose second orgasm followed closely on the heels of yours. 

She leaned down to take your lips, as she worked through it. Her lips moved against yours with a hunger only you could understand, and only you could satisfy. She lay next to you, chest heaving, as she gasped for breath. 

“How are you feeling?” She asked between gulps of air.

“Better, but-” you hesitated, but you couldn’t keep the words in your mouth. “I think I want…think I need more.”

“Greedy little thing, aren’t you?” She asked moving over you again, and slotting her thigh between your legs, pressing it firmly against your core.

“For you? Always.” You replied, as you reached up to pull her down for another kiss.

It would be another 2 hours before the aphrodisiac was fully out of your systems, but after a nap curled around each other, you both decided to enjoy one another again just to be sure.

[captainpains]

Beginning (Sister x reader)

More for the @clonexreaderbingo card. I was so happy to write for Sister and I think the story is cute cute. Picture of Sister made with this picrew. Enjoy🩷🩵🤍

Prompt: Injury

Warnings: gn reader, injury and violence, medical stuff, I love sister, short

~~~~~~

“Medic!”

You ran out to the battlefield, dodging blaster fire left and right. You ran to a trooper (Winner, you were pretty sure) waving his hand to get your attention. You ducked behind the barracid and opened up your medpack. 

The trooper on the ground had a massive blaster wound on their chest. You rushed to remove the chest plate and stop the bleeding, you would worry about the effects of the fall they took later. You managed to shove the trooper’s shirt up, reaching into your medpack for gauze and saline to clean the wound. 

The other troopers were shouting, some coming around to stand behind the same barricade as you. Standard procedure, protect the medic, protect the injured and fallen. 

You cleaned the wound and started to wrap the gauze across the trooper’s chest, applying some pressure to the wound to stop the bleeding. The adrenaline rushing through you gave you the strength to lift their body enough to secure the bandage around their body.

That was all you could do at the moment.

“Stretcher!” You yelled. “Stretcher!”

The trooper seemed to still have some sort of consciousness because their hand reached up and grabbed your arm. You looked down at them, and they seemed to be trying to say something. But the sound of battle, combined with the helmet muffling their voice, prevented you from hearing what they were trying to tell you. 

Another medic arrived with a hover stretcher. You and the other medic lifted the injured trooper onto the stretcher. They were still muttering in comprehensible words as the other medic rushed to take them away from the battle.

You grabbed your medpack and ran to help another downed soldier. 

–

It was a few days later when a trooper came up to you in the hallway. They had pink and blue accents on their armor that looked familiar to you. They took their helmet off to speak with you.

They had long, black hair that was in a bun. Their eyes were beautifully brown and had a shine to them that you couldn’t explain.

“I want to thank you for saving my life,” they said, a genuine gratitude in their voice. You also noticed that their voice was somewhat higher pitched than most other clones.

“I was just doing my duty.”

“Well… I also wanted to apologize for what I said while you were treating me.”

“It’s alright. I really couldn’t-“

“You were just doing your job. I shouldn’t have said what I did. It was very unprofessional and I hope I didn’t offend you.” 

“I couldn’t hear what you said. So couldn’t offend me if I didn’t hear.” You smiled.

The trooper looked at you with wide eyes. They then burst out laughing. 

“I was so worried! When you couldn’t even hear me!” She said between laughs.

“Well, that's great,” your smile widened. 

She managed to stop laughing and matched your wide grin.

“My name is Sister,” She told you, extending her hand.

You told her your name and shook her hand.

And that was the beginning of something special

[stellarbit]

Two Faces

Word Count: 11k Pairing: fem!reader x Bad Batch, light Tech nods Warnings: nada except light violence. Training, some fluff, and general fun Summary: When your sister becomes a senator, you decide to join her guard to protect her. Your mother sends you to train on Kamino as backlash. You are paired with Clone Force 99 under the guise of a regular trooper. Encountering you outside of uniform they mistake you for your sister. It is a delicate situation and you have to play your cards carefully.

This started out as a request for the guys getting jealous of you undercover and here I am. When I tell you this was SO FUN to write but took SO LONG. If y'all like imma make it a part 2.

Edit; you wanted it so here it is Two Faces pt 2

“You want to be a foot soldier.” Your mother snarled down her nose. She was a tall woman, taller than you at least, and the governor of your planet. She waved a slender dismissive hand. “Then be a foot soldier.”

Face neutral, you stood before her in the white armor of a clone trooper. You held the helmet with both hands and a white knuckle grip. This wasn’t exactly what you had in mind when you told your mother you wanted to join your sister’s guard

From your mother’s right your sister stood wringing her hands together. She stood at your height with a face that mirrored your own. Often you were mistaken as twins. Only a few years older than you and already she was the senator for your planet -- the perfect example of what you should have been. Despite everything, the two of you were extremely close.

Concern ate her alive as she watched on. She opened her mouth, but your mother’s hand splayed out in front of her face, cutting off your sister’s voice and view of you.

Continuing to stare you down, your mother’s mouth twisted into her nose. Your family practically bred politicians and that was never your path. If the two of you agreed on nothing else it was that you were no politician.

When your sister was elected as Senator, you knew if you were trained you could be in her guard and keep her safe. It was a decision you were proud of and one that sealed your fate in the eyes of your mother. You would be of no use to her. She heard your wish and wanted to make sure you fully regretted it.

Rolling her eyes away from you, your mother turned her attention to a Kaminoan by her other side. As the leaders of two allied planets, your mother and Lama Su maintained a close relationship. At least close enough to call in favors.

“Thank you, Prime Minister, for this opportunity.” Your mother’s disgust faded into a pleasant smile. “Although, I worry she may damage the reputation of your clone troopers.”

The Kaminoan shifted his gaze to you. In near boredom he said, “You do realize she is liable to die?” Settling his hands in front of him, he turned back to your mother. 

She scoffed, the idea of no concern to her. “She made her choice. Should that come to pass, Kamino will not be held responsible.” They spoke of you as if you weren’t even present. “But, do make sure they don’t take it easy on her.”

They. An ‘unorthodox’ squadron of clones you would be paired with.

Your mother said your name, her tone sharp enough to straighten your back. Her head tilted back, the crimp in her lip returning. “If it is discovered that my daughter is beneath that armor, forget ever coming home.” She muttered something to your sister and, in unison, they made for the door. 

Your sister managed one last glance at you before the Kaminoan door swirled open and your mother shoved her through. Your heart sank as the giant white doors shut behind the women.

What if you never saw your sister again?

Alone with Lama Su, the bright, sterile room began to strain your eyes. The unnatural ambience of the room was enough to unsettle you without the addition of the Kaminoan’s cold stare. With slow fluidity, he fully turned towards you. His eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. “The modified armor will hide your identity. All you have to do is follow orders.” Lama Su said in his smooth, detached voice. He gestured a long finger towards you. “Put on your helmet, do not remove it in front of others, and remain silent. Your family may tolerate embarrassment, but I will not endure it here.”

Under his cold stare, you lifted the helmet and sealed it over your head. Your eyes had barely adjusted to the restricted line of sight when the doors hissed opened again.

Where your mother and sister had left, five men strode in. Their armor was mismatched in shape and color, but there was some vein shared between them. It took you a moment until your eyes widened and the gears finally turned. These were the clones!

You were no stranger to clones. The Republic had dispatched a group of troopers to your planet as a show of good faith and alliance, although you wondered at times if your family fully reciprocated that sentiment. That said, these men were unlike any clones you’d seen. 

Their appearances were as mismatched as their armor. Your attention immediately drifted to a behemoth of a man towering over his cohorts and obviously blinded in his left eye. Standing shorter than the rest, one man sported a tattoo covering half his face. Two of them stood at the same height, one with goggles and the other with silver hair. The fifth man looked more akin to a standard clone than the rest, yet his complexion was blanched and he was outfitted with cybernetic prosthetics.  

They were the most mesmerizing things you’d ever seen. And none of them spared even a glance in your direction.

Resisting the urge to look to the Kaminoan for clarification, you kept your eyes forward and did your best to look at attention.

“Clone Force 99, welcome.” Lama Su took a smooth step forward and swept a hand in your direction. Still, their eyes remained trained on the Prime Minister. “This promising trooper is being assigned to your squad for training. While their designation number is of no concern to you, you may refer to your new addition as ‘Phi.’”

Phi. A word you recognized as meaning nothing.

A pale hand landed gently on your shoulder, finally dragging Clone Force 99’s collective attention to you. Even through the armor, Lama Su’s touch made your skin crawl. The urge to bite settled between your teeth and the intensity of his stare did nothing to dissuade that.

His next words came across as almost proud. “I trust you will find the skills of this soldier to be exemplary, possibly even to surpass standard clone trooper protocol. It has been decided that integrating with your unit will provide... a most beneficial learning environment for all.”

The praise threw you off until you noticed the change in the squad’s expressions. Something in Lama Su’s words did not sit well with them. In particular, the tall silver-haired clone did nothing to hide his annoyance. Whatever it was, the undue praise clearly sealed your fate in some way. His sharp glance alone indicated that the undue praise had somehow sealed your fate—a fate Lama Su had very intentionally engineered.

“Training will begin immediately.” Lama Su said. “Proceed to the training facilities to begin. You have your orders. You are dismissed.”

Clone Force 99 wasted no time in filing out of the room, offering no introductions or even a glance to see if you followed. Their dismissal was clear; you were an outsider, not worthy of their camaraderie. Hurrying after them, the quiet of the corridor seemed to amplify the shifting of armor and footsteps.

"Just our luck!" His voice boomed, echoing off the walls. "Why do we get stuck with a reg?" He threw a glance over his shoulder, his good eye scanning you with disdain.

Reg? The term echoed in your mind, a label you didn’t yet understand.

The cybernetic clone fell back beside you. “The question is: what did you do to get stuck with us?” His tone wasn't unkind, merely curious, probing.

Instinctively, your mouth opened to respond, but Lama Su’s directive flashed in your mind—Do not speak in front of others. Clamping your mouth shut, you turned your gaze forward again, grateful for the helmet’s limited field of vision that spared you from seeing their reactions. You did see the way Crosshair's eyes narrowed, it was safe to assume your silence hadn’t helped matters.

Adjusting to the weight of your gear seemed trivial compared to the weight of maintaining silence.

Sighing, the tattooed man shook his head. “Listen,” He said as he stopped and turned. “If we are stuck together, we might as well get along. I’m Hunter.”

He gestured to the others as they continued walking. "That’s Wrecker," pointing to the large man, "Echo," indicating the cyborg, "Tech," nodding towards the one with goggles, and lastly, "And Crosshair," with a tilt of his head toward the silver-haired clone who had kept his distance.

They all waited for your addition, but it didn’t come and your silence remained. From behind your helmet you cringed. This was shaping up to be a terrible idea. You held your breath, bracing for the uncomfortable journey ahead. 

Your silence only fueled Crosshair’s anger. His gaze narrowed, head cocked like a raptor eyeing prey. "Too good to speak to us?" His lip curled in a familiar, cruel sneer that reminded you of your mother. 

Noticing Crosshair had an actual crosshair tattooed over his right eye you couldn’t help the little snort you made, emphasized by your helmet’s voice modulator. You immediately regretted your slip up as Crosshair set his shoulders, head snaking forward. “Something funny, reg?” The way he said that word was pure venom.

 You almost conceded at the guttural sound he made at your continued silence, but before you could react Crosshair cracked his elbow into your helmet. The helmet crashed into your face and pain bloomed across your nose, knocking you down to one knee. Blood trickled from your nostrils, leaving you reeling with doubts and likely a broken nose.

"Crosshair!" Hunter barked. He didn't need to step in further; Crosshair stood back, arms crossed and lips twisted into a smirk of satisfaction.

Echo and Tech shared a glance, Wrecker gave a supportive smile, and Hunter shot Crosshair a sharp, disapproving look before turning his attention back to you. "Get up," he said firmly, "and keep up."

With one last glare from Crosshair, you pushed yourself up to your feet, determined not to show weakness. But as the sharp metallic taste of blood filled your mouth, you couldn't ignore the cold reality of your situation.

They certainly did not take it easy on you and by the end of your first session it was clear to all of you that you were a miserable excuse for a recruit. In the solitude of your room, you finally removed your helmet. In a small mirror you twisted your head, examining the crusted blood and swollen nature of your nose.

A gentle, and painful, touch confirmed your broken nose suspicions. You leaned in for a better look and smiled. It hurt like hell, but at least you made it through your first day.

You looked to a photo of your sister you’d pinned to your mirror. It’s worth it for her. Giving yourself a nod, you replaced your helmet and headed for the med bay- a trip you were going to frequent.

As you entered the medical wing, the only presence were that of two medical droids floating about and a female Kaminoan. The female swept her head in your direction, slowly blinking as you stood at the entrance. You recognized the Kaminoan as Nala Se. She’d given your family a tour of the cloning operations in the past.

She addressed you with a good evening and gestured for you to approach. “I am aware of your identity. You may remove your armor in my presence.” Nala Se said in her ever measured tone. When you still hesitated she added, “The clones are currently in the canteen.”

Reluctantly, you lifted the helmet from your head, exposing the bruised face underneath. Nala Se observed you quietly, her expression unreadable. “You should return home.” She suggested. “Our clones are trained from their creation. You will not be able to match their abilities.”

“That’s not an option now. I either return with training or in a body bag.”

You placed your helmet in a tote at the foot of the medical table and began discarding the rest of the armor in the same fashion. Clad only in your black undersuit, you continued undressing under Nala Se's impassive watch. Her clinical detachment did little to ease the discomfort of the situation

Stripped down to a bandeau and shorts, you climbed onto the examination bed. A droid hovered over you, scanning your body. "Subject exhibits a broken nose and extensive bruising," it reported to Nala Se, who nodded slightly before administering two injections—one for pain and another to reduce future bruising.

As the droid tended to your injuries, Nala Se handed you a set of clothes. "There is more than one way to remain hidden," she stated as she unfolded a Kaminoan-style outfit—a set of dark, tight-fitting pants and a long-sleeve shirt, complemented by a light-colored vest with fabric strips cascading down your legs

You’d no sooner dawned the outfit when the doors slid open again and voices immediately broke the silence.

You froze with your back to the door. Tech's analytical voice floated through the air, "I am merely saying, excess violence will only worsen the situation for all of us."

It was Crosshair who answered with dry amusement. "Speak for yourself," he scoffed. 

Nala Se held your gaze a moment longer before she looked to the approaching clones. “CT-9902 and CT-9904, what is it that you require?”

Tech spoke up from behind you, "There is a high probability that Crosshair fractured his knuckles during training." You could think of a few instances that could’ve caused that, the bruises across your body serving as evidence.

Swallowing the groan in your throat, you finally faced them. Tech and Crosshair stopped in their tracks both staring at you with some confusion.

“Senator.” Tech offered a nod of respect. His polite tone threw you off balance as he mistook you for your sister. The Kaminoans' medical treatment had indeed worked wonders, hiding your identity well enough to prompt the error.

Crosshair frowned, a toothpick tilting in his mouth.

Tech, noticing Crosshair’s tight expression, nudged his brother. “We passed her on the way to meet the Prime Minister.” This was enough for the sniper to remove his toothpick and stand a bit straighter.

The immediate respect was a stark contrast to the blows they’d dealt you all day. Embracing the assumption you smiled graciously despite the stiff feeling in your face. “It is a pleasure to formally meet you, troopers.” You rounded the table to stand before them.

Without your gear, you realized just how much taller they were. And without the restrictive view of your helmet, you could fully appreciate how striking they were. They stood with practiced military bearing, radiating strength and a sense of purpose that matched their formidable presence.

Absolutely breathtaking, and in a much different way than when they'd been knocking the wind out of you earlier.

“The honor is ours, Senator.” Tech said. His eyes searched your face, for what you weren’t certain.Though having his eyes on any part of you was a lovely sensation. He paused momentarily, but found your eyes again. 

Crosshair kept his gaze steady as he studied you, lending some clarity to your earlier question. "What brings a senator down to the med bay? Surely not curiosity."

Holding your composure, you lied, “I am… personally interested in the development and progress of the valiant men keeping our galaxy safe.” You took the opportunity to circle the two men while they remained still and eyes forward. The men had equally long legs and cinched waists that were positively sinful. This view of them was certainly an upgrade, igniting an idea in you.

“In fact,” You polished a smile as you came back to their fronts. “I’d be interested in some personal lessons from esteemed men such as yourselves.” 

Surprise lifted Tech’s eyebrows and pulled the corner of Crosshair’s lip up. 

“Mistress Se mentioned your squad is already undertaking the training of a new recruit.” Their expressions dulled at the reminder. “What’s a few extra morning sessions with a mere Senator?”

Nala Se, observing the exchange from the background, stepped forward to say, "That can be arranged for the morning after next. For now, the senator has matters to attend to. CT-9904, please proceed with your treatment."

Tech offered another polite nod before leading Crosshair to the medical equipment. As they moved away, you exhaled, glancing at Nala Se, who gave you an almost imperceptible nod of approval.

The following morning, back in your armor, you walked into the training room and the middle of Clone Force 99’s conversation.

Wrecker was throwing his head around, moaning about something you couldn't quite catch. “-well, why didn’t I see her?”

“You did, Wrecker.” Tech said in a flat, exasperated breath. “If only in passing.”

“But why would a senator want to watch us train?” Echo shook his head in confusion.

Tech adjusted his goggles. “Correction: she wants to train with us.”

As he twirled a knife between his fingers, Hunter asked, “Then why would a senator want to train with clones?”

“Does it matter?” Crosshair drawled from his perch on a rectangular obstacle with a knee pulled up.. “If the little princess wants our hands on her, who are we to deny?”

Little princess. Your mind stuttered at the words while your body visibly jerked at them. The squadron cut their conversation short and looked to you. The amusement between them quickly faded, yet even this attention had heat crawling through you.

“Let’s get this over with.” Hunter gruffed while putting on his helmet. The rest followed suit and training began.

The session was as brutal as the day prior, starting with sparring and finishing with blaster drills. You didn’t do much better than the day prior, but you were proud to have left with no new fractures. By the next morning you could barely leave bed.

But ‘little princess’ was enough to push you up.

You arrived at the training room early. It was much smaller than the usual arenas, scattered with mannequins instead of physical obstacles. You traded your armor for a form-fitting suit similar to the blacks troopers wore. Without a helmet, you felt exposed—but exhilarated.

When the doors slid open, your pulse quickened. With composure your mother would admire, you smoothed your expression and smiled. “Nice of you boys to join me.”

A small smirk lifted Hunter’s lips as he regarded you. “Senator.” he greeted, his gaze sweeping over your form. The word almost caused your smile to falter, reminding you of the misconception they were under. 

They made their introductions before Hunter, hand at his hip, gestured for you to advance. “You sure you’re ready for this?”

The soreness that wracked your body protested when you squared your shoulders. “I was born ready.” Hopefully your feigned confidence won them over.

The way the leader’s head dipped with a small laugh said it did. Even from a distance, the sound reverberated through you to your core.

“Don’t worry,” Wrecker’s large hand clapped down on your shoulder and right onto an unseen bruise. “We’ll take it easy on ya!”

Crosshair rolled a toothpick between his lips. “Easy’s not our style, Wrecker.” You met his still skeptical stare, not backing down from the challenge.

“I can handle it.”

He snorted, flicked away his toothpick, and strode over to you. Leaning in he said in a low, snippy voice, “Better keep up, princess.”

As much as the nickname heated your blood, you maintained your smile, determined to earn their respect. “I intend to.” You said in an equally low, taunting tone.

From the very beginning, their training style was a complete turn around compared to the borderline abuse you endured while in armor.

Hunter set the pace, showing you rapid movements to prove your reflexes. When a moment of exhaustion hit and you noticeably slowed, Hunter teased, “I thought you said you’d keep up.”

Sagging your shoulders, you rolled back your head with a laugh. “Alright, maybe I wasn’t born for this.”

“We sure were.” Wrecker laughed and took over, launching into instruction about utilizing your body weight against an opponent. He demonstrated on Crosshair, who loudly hissed in protest. Wrecker put a shoulder into Crosshair’s abdomen and tossed him over his shoulder like a sandbag. 

Crosshair struggled against his brother’s hold, until he landed safely on the ground. He snarled at Wrecker, then caught the amused smile tugging at your lips. With a grunt of annoyance, he averted his gaze and casually placed a toothpick back between his lips, feigning indifference.

“C’mon, now you try,” Wrecker encouraged as you stepped close. He used his massive hands to reposition your torso into a bent over position. “Like this, see? You gotta feel the power through your whole body!” His bubbly enthusiasm made it hard to take the movement seriously.

His demeanor wasn’t your only distraction. Despite your mother’s disregard for you, as the daughter of a politician, people were always careful with you. Between their ruthless training of you as ‘Phi’ and their gentle instruction as a ‘Senator,’ you were finding them more and more captivating.

Their presence was intoxicating.

Tech used a more methodical style of instruction. His hands deftly maneuvered your body into a slightly different form. “Optimal form is crucial,” he explained. His fingers lingered just a moment too long on your spine, sending an unexpected shiver down your back. With one hand he pressed your bruised shoulder lower.

Your teeth clenched against the pain, a quiet whine making its way past your lips. Tech immediately released his hand, observing you with a tilted glance. “Interesting,” he whispered with curiosity that pulled your eyes to his. Behind those brown eyes of his, something passed through. He blinked once, twice, and stepped back.

The moment went unnoticed as Echo chimed in. “Throw your weight behind it and aim for his diaphragm.” Wrecker tried to chuckle, but you cut him off by doing just that. Despite your best efforts, he didn’t even flinch. A chorus of chuckles erupted around you, but it felt good to join their lighthearted banter instead of getting the kriff kicked out of you.

The training continued until you were slick with sweat. You were exhausted, sure, but the exhilaration you felt in the beginning only grew with every brush with the men.

Though throughout the trading, Crosshair paid the experience little interest.  He meandered the outskirts of the room, only chiming in when you had a misstep. Finally, winded but grinning, you let yourself sink to the floor. Crosshair sauntered over, standing behind you as he shifted his weight onto one foot.

His weight shifted onto one foot and postured over you. “Looks like what they say about senators is true.” He snorted, but the bite his voice carried when you were Phi was missing.

You leaned back, hands propped behind you, and squinted up at him. “And what’s that?”

His keen eyes scanned you, briefly pausing on your heaving chest before meeting your gaze again. “You’re all talk.”

Crosshair maintained a smug expression while his brothers fell silent, their attention fixed on the two of you. For the first time since training began, the ache in your nose surfaced in your mind. The memory of Crosshair's initial blow hung in the air as you carefully considered the situation, your tongue slipping over your teeth. He didn't realize it, but as you sat there inches from his feet, he was perched right within your reach. His guard was down, dismissing you as a non-threat.

The backhanded comment about Senator inaction was the deciding factor in your next move. You could always tolerate insults aimed at you. The rough training was even tolerable if it meant a means to your purpose. 

Calling out a senator’s - your sister’s - resolve, however, was a step too far.

In one swift motion, you fell back, hooked an arm around his ankle, and yanked his foot out from under him. Crosshair's arms swung through the air, desperately trying to catch his balance, but he tumbled to the ground with a thud, a gasp of air forced from his lungs. Lounging back on one elbow, you kept his ankle cradled firmly in your arm.

The rest of Clone Force 99 tried - and failed - to stifle their laughter. Eventually, they gave him the same round of laughter you received. Crosshair shoved up on his elbows with a scowl. The twitch in his lip betrayed the amusement nipping at him. Grunting with a roll of his eyes, he pushed you off his foot. “Lucky shot.”

You raised your eyebrows with a satisfied hum, then let yourself fall back onto the training mat. As you lay there, staring up at the bright ceiling and still catching your breath with a laugh lingering on your tongue, you felt an unfamiliar sensation—happiness.

All your life, you’d been chasing after your sister, constantly seeking your family's approval. You had never been allowed to simply exist or pursue anything for yourself.

But laying there, beaten and exhausted, you felt strangely good.

Wrecker’s face appeared above you with a lopsided smile. He extended a hand as he said, “Now, where’d you learn to do that?”

Groaning, you accepted his hand and he lifted you with ease. “It comes with having a sister,” you replied. The mention of your sister brought a bubble of anxiety to the surface and Lama Su’s warning pricked you.

“Ha! Just like us then.” With his hand still clasping yours, Wrecker steadied you by gently pressing his other hand against the small of your back.

Your face heated, though it was already flushed from training, and you quickly cleared your throat, stepping out of his grasp. Brushing off imaginary dust from your thighs, did your best to sound casua. “I’m curious,” you said, eager to switch topics, “how’s training that trooper Nala Se told me about?”

Just like mentioning your sister had done to you, bringing up the trainee cast a shadow over the troopers’ mood, which only heightened your anxiety.

“Don’t remind us.” Wrecker gruffed. “It’s bad enough we’re missing out on missions and we’re stuck with a reg.”

“Reg?” You repeated.

Echo sighed with exasperation. “Regular clone.” The way you muddled your face prompted the others to elaborate on their own differences. Though you knew Clone Force 99 was different, you hadn’t realized the full extent until now. You understood now why Echo was the least brutal in his training. With his origins as a regular clone, he sympathized.

Lama Su’s conversation with them finally made sense. He was stoking a fire meant to burn you out. 

You laughed nervously, “Surely it can’t be that bad.”

Hunter rubbed the bridge of his nose, dreading the afternoon ahead. “Trust us, you’re showing more potential than this guy.” 

They all launched into a conversation about the trainee's abysmal performance, not realizing the irony. Meanwhile, Tech stood back, focused on his datapad, occasionally looking up at the group- at you.

Walking away from the group, you tried to peek at his screen. “What are you looking at?”

Tech glanced up at you and quickly tucked the device away. “I was reading up on some political matters.” He adjusted his goggles and glanced at his brothers still chatting away. “Nothing you are not already appraised of.”

Mouthing an ‘oh’ you followed his gaze t back to the others. They looked so different now, discussing the reg amongst them, than they did just moments ago. “Why exactly are you here?” Tech questioned, you could feel his attention on you.

Not bothering to meet Tech’s stare, you answered without hesitation. “To make a difference the only way I can.”

From that point on, a cycle began. Every morning they trained you as the Senator and every afternoon you received a beating as Phi. 

Knowing their distaste for Phi was completely unrelated to you may have eased your anxiety but it didn’t make your training any easier.

That came with your mornings with Clone Force 99 and, on occasion, an even meeting.

The first time you ran into them outside of training happened when you’d snuck off to comm your sister. After stealing a holocom from the medical facility, you wandered the corridors for a few nights to find the best place to reach her. You always worried about an unexpected visitor in your barrack room. Wrapped in a cloak, you huddled beside a viewport, lost in thought as you stared at the device in your hands.

It had been the longest stretch you’d gone without speaking to your sister. Nerves kept your fingers hovering over the controls, practicing how you'd greet her, when suddenly your vision went dark. Your hands dropped the holocom in surprise, but it never hit the ground. 

“Look who we found!” Wrecker’s boisterous voice boomed, warm and close, as his large form pressed up behind you.

Letting out a startled breath, you gently pulled his hands away from your eyes. Standing before you were Hunter and Crosshair, both of whom looked amused.

Hunter practically sauntered forward as he offered you the holocom back. "Caught you," he teased, handing the holocom back to you with a sly grin. His eyes dipped as your fingers brushed against his, he shot a question with smirk at you. “What are you doing out here so late?”

You clutched the device a bit more securely and shrugged. "Just needed a quiet spot to contact my sister," you admitted.

Crosshair raised an eyebrow, plucking the toothpick from his mouth and pointing it at you. "And you chose the coldest corridor on Kamino for your heartfelt chat?" he was unconvinced.

You spun the device nervously in your hands. “I didn’t think anyone would be out at this time.”

The silver haired clone gave a low chuckle, twirling the toothpick between his fingers. "Well, don't let us interrupt your cozy little conversation.”

“We’re headed to the canteen for a bite to eat, you should come.” Wrecker suggested, resting his hands on your shoulder.

Hunter nodded in agreement. "You’re right about one thing - it’s quieter this time of night. Less regs to get in the way."

Wrecker grinned wide and leaned in closer, giving you a gentle shake as his presence nudged you forward. "Besides, it's warmer there!"

You certainly felt warmer, but not just from the prospect of a heated room. Glancing down at the holocom, you wondered if your sister was even awake. Unable to resist their invite, you stashed the device away and smiled. “Alright, why not? Lead the way.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Crosshair said in a way that made you roll your eyes. He could make anything sound sarcastic.

Joining them turned out to be a worthy trade. Crosshair and Hunter sat across from you and Wrecker. Wrecker made a habit of pushing into your space, offering bites of his favorite bits, while Crosshair and Hunter discussed your upcoming training sessions as Phi—a topic you found less than thrilling. Instead, you chose to bask in Wrecker’s warm attention.

Despite his high energy and monstrous strength, Wrecker proved to be the most gentle of the batch. Always the first to help you to your feet or catch you when you stumbled. His touch light, the calluses of his hands only ever brushing you. The skinship was a new experience for you, but one you wanted more of each time.

After your last bite of a chocolate morsel, Wrecker caught your chin between his thumb and forefinger. He rubbed a thumb over the corner of your mouth, dragging your lip down with the pressure of his touch.

“Got a little somethin’ there,” Wrecker chuckled, showing you the smear of chocolate on his thumb. “Guess I’m not the only messy eater ‘round here.” His smile crinkled his eyes as he dipped his thumb into his mouth to suck off the sweet remnant.

The casual intimacy of the gesture wasn’t lost on you, though it seemed to escape him. He turned back to his plate, completely missing the heat rising to your face. As a soft smile lilted your lips, you shut your eyes and leaned into Wrecker’s form. Surrounded by them, you felt a wave of contentment—you could happily spend all your free time like this

Wrecker perked up, his eyes wide and eyebrows raised as he felt your weight against him. He sat stock still for a moment, glancing between you and his brothers. Gradually, he relaxed into your touch and reached an arm around you.

“H-Hey,” he stammered slightly, patting a hand on your hip, “What’s all this?”

A foot knocked into yours from beneath the table. Peeking out from under an eyelid, you met Hunter’s lopsided smile and received another gentle tap. “Don’t be falling asleep on us. It wouldn’t be a good look for us to be carrying your limp body back.”

“Is the little princess tired?” Crosshair added lightly, a rare hint of playfulness in his tone.

Closing your eye once more, you hummed in agreement. Sitting alone with them in a mess hall, sharing a meal and laughing under the harsh lighting, you felt completely at peace.

Your mother had meant this all to be a punishment. She couldn’t have imagined that this place, these men, would heal a part of you you hadn’t realized was broken. They built you up and their training made you feel strong. They never admitted to it while you were in armor, but from their observations of the Senator you were improving.

Something you showcased one afternoon as Phi. During a drill with dummy droids, you found yourself blindsided by a metallic blow to your back. Another droid seized you by the neck and hurled you about twenty feet, leaving you crumpled on the ground as the simulation abruptly ended.

Still seeing stars, you heard the familiar cadence of Crosshair’s footsteps. “Get up.” Crosshair growled from above you.

Twisting onto your side, you struggled to catch your breath. Crosshair’s helmet angled to the side as he clicked his tongue, shoving his heal into your hip. “I said get up.” He punctuated his words with another kick. The sharp pain instantly boiled up weeks of frustration and pain.

Not a single thought registered with you as you snapped. As fast as a hydrosnake, you lashed out, looped an arm around his ankle and thrashed him back as you had before. This time your training took over.

You didn’t stop at holding him by his foot. No, you pulled his leg to the side, opening his hips, and pinned his thigh under your knee. Before he could grab at you, you pressed your torso across his, driving an elbow into the side of his helmet. Your hands clasped behind his bicep, effectively locking him in place.

Crosshair thrashed against you as his free hand hammered into the soft spot between your chest and shoulder plates. With every hit, you tightened your grip on him. His vile threats drowned out the sound of Wrecker’s stomping towards the two of you. 

A large hand ripped you by the back of your neck, instantly detangling you from the sniper. “Not so tough now, are ya?” Wrecker taunted.

Dangling in the air, your legs kicked and fingers scratched at Wrecker’s fingers. The fingers that otherwise delicately touched you choked you in more ways than one. Crosshair shot up from the ground, ripping off his helmet to expose his seething expression. 

“Wrecker!” Echo’s voice rang out from the sidelines, but his veiled command did little to deescalate the situation.

The sarcastic, teasing Crosshair who interacted with you as a senator was nowhere to be seen. Instead, he whipped a finger at you, a silent but unmistakable threat as he closed in on you.

It was Tech that quickly slid between you, effectively barring Crosshair from getting his hands on you. “Crosshair.” Tech’s tone was firm, if not altogether scolding. “You kicked them while they were incapacitated. Therefore, their actions were justified, while your reaction is not.”

Crosshair shook with rage, eyes burning into you past Tech's shoulder. The silent threat of his pointed finger became a promise.

“Wrecker, drop him.” Hunter ordered he yanked Wrecker’s arm down. 

Wrecker begrudgingly released you, setting you down with a rough thud, but you quickly steadied yourself, brushing off the dust. Your breath was labored, but you didn’t falter under Crosshair’s glare. It didn’t matter who Crosshair thought you were at this point, he was just being cruel. It fully pissed you off more than anything up to that point. Tension hung in the air, and with each passing second, your urge to snap grew stronger.

Tech stepped aside and Hunter’s stern gaze moved between you and Crosshair. “Are we done?”

Crosshair let out a low growl before reluctantly shoving his helmet back on with a quick twist. You, on the other hand, weren’t done and needed to calm down fast.

“You’ll never be worth our time,” Crosshair said with venom. “You fight like a child.”

That simmering urge burst through. You lunged forward, craned your head back, and bashed the front of your helmet into his. The old wound on your nose flared, but watching Crosshair thrown back and stumbling dulled the pain to an ache.

He shook it off quickly enough and charged you again, narrowly missing as Echo intercepted him.

While you regained your balance, Tech fell in beside you, gently catching you by the forearm. You were too busy wheezing to notice the strangeness in Tech’s assisting you as Phi. While you watched Hunter and Echo work to calm Crosshair, Tech brought his head closer, whispering for only you to hear, “Do not antagonize him. You’ve already had one broken nose, let’s not aim for another.”

All of your burning rage cooled in an instant. You slowly looked at the technician, whose eyes watched you intensely from behind his helmet. Something in his gaze drowned out all other sounds around you. He looked at you differently from how the others ever had.

You had no idea how he knew, but the way he looked at you made it clear: Tech knew exactly who you were.

He leaned closer, his voice a low, amused murmur. "It was obvious." Your head jerked back as if to say ‘how was it obvious?’

Sensing your immediate tension, he added quickly, "To me, at least. The others don’t seem to have noticed." He glanced over his shoulder to ensure Crosshair remained restrained before looking back at you. "We'll manage Crosshair. You should head to the medical facility to have your nose examined."

“Tech-” You tried to whisper but Tech cut you off, spinning you towards the exit. You didn’t wait for him to tell you again.

You did manage to hear Tech quip, “For the record, Crosshair, that would be twice now they bested you.” You made sure you were out the door by the time Crosshair turned on his brother.

Tech was right to send you to get checked out. You’d avoided a broken nose, but the swelling did need attention. You were still in armor when you got back to your room. Dropping down onto a storage tote, you set your helmet between your feet. Elbows on your knees, you sat looking out over the swath of ocean beyond your windows. 

The steady drum of rain against your window helped soothe your nerves, which had barely eased since you left the training grounds. You sat there for a while, combing through your time on Kamino, searching for any clue as to how Tech figured out who you were. With his keen mind, anything seemed possible, but you still wondered when you slipped up.

The sound of your barrack door opening snapped you out of concentration. You couldn’t reach for your helmet fast enough when someone said,“You need not bother with that”

You whipped around, twisting in your spot. Sans helmet and alone, Tech stood in your room. He’d already seen your face and touched your body, but this felt like you were meeting for the first time.

You slowly stood, picking at your fingertips. “Hi,” was all you managed to croak out as the door shut behind him.

It must've been an odd sight, you thought. The face of a senator on the body of a trooper. You snuck a glance at your reflection in the window. The sight was familiar to you now, but you remembered the juxtaposition taking time to get used to. You weren’t happy that the first time Tech was seeing you as you, your hair was stuck in a bird’s nest of a bun with crooked hairs jutting out at all angles

Tech said your name and something in your chest lurched at the sound. “If I am correct,” He said as moved his goggles up his nose. “-And I usually am, that is your real name. Is it not?” He remained standing just at the entrance of your room.

Your lips tucked into your mouth as you nodded slowly, still unsure about what to even say. “How did you know?”

Upon your admission Tech walked closer, free of the tension you carried. “Observation and deduction.” He explained, stepping around the tote separating you to take you in fully. Unlike when you portrayed Phi or the Senator, you had never noticed him observing you with such explicit curiosity.

Tech circled you, one hand cradling his elbow and the other holding his chin. “I was fairly certain Crosshair broke the trooper’s nose during the initial altercation. When we met in the medical facility, I noticed a distinct mark on your nose—an odd thing for a distinguished guest such as a Senator.” He moved around your right side, his finger gently pressing into your shoulder. “To confirm my suspicions, I applied pressure to a region I hypothesized would be tender if my assumptions were correct.”

"Your reaction confirmed it," Tech concluded, stepping back to give you space. "It was subtle, but it was enough for me to piece together the truth about your dual identities."

He took a seat on the tote facing the window and pulled out his datapad, tapping away as he continued. “Still, I didn’t have an explanation as to why a senator would be here like this. Until you mentioned your sister, which finally prompted me to do a bit of research.” Tech angled his datapad towards you, displaying a news article with a photo of your sister. “I must admit, the resemblance is uncanny. However, with her being accounted for on Coruscant, it would prove impossible for her to be on Kamino.”

He pressed a button and a photo of a stoic family appeared - your parents standing behind you and your sister. You only got a glance in before Tech pulled it back to his face. His eyes narrowed as he focused on the photo. “Besides, while the two of you do share similar features, you are far more… captivating.” Tech looked up at you, still standing beside him. “I could never confuse the two of you.”

Your breath hitched at ‘captivating.’ No one had ever remotely said that to you. It was always either you could pass for twins or your sister was the more fortunate child. Coming from Tech, such a logical and blunt man, it took your breath away. He saw no point in undue praise or flattery; to him, he was merely stating facts. It melted you.

You lowered yourself next to him, knees turned in his direction. “Why haven’t you told the others?”

Tech thought for a moment, his eyes shifting to the side as he considered your question “I do not know your reason for anonymity, but I respect your decision and will not jeopardize that. Your privacy is your own.” He nodded, pivoting to fully face you. “And I find I rather enjoy being the only one to know this about you.”

The tension in your shoulders ebbed, replaced by a fluttering that started in your chest and made breathing a manual task. You caught your reflection again, feeling frustrated that in such a moment you looked so disheveled. You balled your fists tightly enough that your fingernails dug into your palms, embarrassed that he offered such compliments to someone like you.

“Why are you making such a face?” Tech asked.

You watched yourself a second longer before offering him a sad smile. “I think I know now why you wear those goggles.”

Tech’s brows pulled together. “They alter the way light enters my eye to correct my eye’s refractive errors.” You sat back, blinking at the explanation, humor coming to your smile. Tech kept a serious face, not understanding the nuances you were attempting. “They help me see,” He clarified in a flat tone.

You yielded a small laugh, leaning over to tap his knee. “I know, I was trying to say you must need them if you think I’m the pretty sister.” As soon as the words left your mouth, you realized how mean they sounded. Not just insulting Tech’s taste, but fully airing the distaste you held for yourself. Your smile dropped and along with your eyes to the hand still on his knee.

A drop of panic hit your gut as you started pulling your hand away. “I’m sorry, I-”

Tech grabbed your wrist and you couldn’t react before he hushed you, “Get down.” He said, pulling you both down to the floor. He ducked his head, pushing yours down and pulling you flush against him in one motion. His hand cupped over your mouth just before you heard the door open. Two sets of footsteps echoed in. Whoever it was, they were too far away for you to get a clear image of them in the window’s reflection.

You craned your neck, trying to get a look but Tech held you fast.

“His armor isn’t here.” Crosshair’s sharp voice rung out. “The little snake isn’t home.”

Hunter answered with a sigh, “Cross, none of us like this but you need to ease up. The sooner we get him trained, the sooner we get rid of him.” The two of them made themselves at home, walking around on a light inspection of your space.

Tech kept you both completely still, staying so silent you weren’t sure he was even breathing. Which was impressive considering that between the intruders and being positioned between Tech’s legs you were having a hard time regulating your own sounds.

One set of footsteps quieted. “Would you look at that?” Crosshair snarled. “Looks like the reg has a little crush.” The sound of paper snapping told you he found the picture of your sister hanging from your mirror. The level of agitation in his voice made you worry for the next time Crosshair caught you in uniform.

“That might be why I-” Hunter stopped mid-sentence. You heard footsteps shuffle in place.

“What is it?” Crosshair pressed.

A moment passed before Hunter continued. “It’s nothing. We should go. You can play nice later.” Crosshair made a noise of frustration, and the two of them left the room.

As soon as the door shut behind them, Tech eased his grip on you. His arms hung beside you while you instinctively sagged against him in relief. You twisted around to ask, “What were they doing in here?”

“My guess would be that Hunter wanted Crosshair to make amends.” You could see a thought turning over in him. “And I would say Hunter either just realized the situation or is on the very cusp of doing so.”

“How did they-”

“We have always known which barrack was yours.” Tech answered before you could get the question out. He glanced away momentarily, considering his words carefully. “I advised them early on to leave well enough alone.”

The two of you held each other's gaze for a moment, and Tech's expression softened, becoming more reflective. “I did say I enjoyed being the only one to know your identity,” he murmured. “What I neglected to mention is that I took measures to keep it that way.” Gently, he lifted a knuckle to your cheekbone, brushing back a stray hair. The corner of his mouth ticked upwards.

“It doesn’t bother you - not really knowing me?” You asked.

As Tech began to help untangle the two of you from your hiding spot, he responded. “We may not have had traditional introductions, but I know all that I need to.” You pulled your legs beneath you, reaching out for Tech as he stood. He gripped your hand firmly and pulled you up.

With a slight grunt as he helped you to your feet, Tech continued, “You are resourceful and brave. These qualities are not just observed; they are proven through your actions and decisions here.” Tech’s voice carried a respect and a hint of admiration that felt more personal than his usual factual observations.

“And while I may not know every detail of your past or every layer of your personality yet, I understand your core—your competence, your strength, and your commitment to your goals. These are the attributes that define you, not just the name you carry or the role you play.”

Tech bent over and plucked your helmet from the floor. “Plus, as a clone, a name doesn’t hold a great deal of value for me.” He held the helmet in his hands, He rotated the helmet, examining it before gently handing it back to you. “Does that answer your question?”

Nodding in slight awe, you gently accepted the helmet and immediately dropped it, opting instead to quickly wrap your arms around his waist. “Thank you, Tech.” 

Tech stiffened slightly, the rush of adrenaline visible as his posture tightened—a clear sign of his surprise at the physical closeness. This type of interaction was uncharted territory for him. In the window’s reflection, he watched the two of you. Your face was tucked into his chest, hidden from view, but he could feel the tremor of your breathing. Unsure of what else to do, Tech lightly touched your head. “O-of course.”

Tech had a myriad of questions for you about your past and your motivations.Holding you in that moment, he decided, was enough. The questions could wait for another day.

The next morning's training session was particularly challenging for you. It was hard to ignore Hunter's scrutinizing gaze. He watched you as if decoding every movement, his eyes sharp and probing. Tech's earlier observations were spot on—Hunter was definitely onto something.

For once, you found yourself eagerly awaiting the end of the session. As soon as it was over, you hustled away faster than usual, leaving Clone Force 99 to prepare yourself for that evening. You were going to tell them the whole truth.

After mentally rehearsing several scenarios multiple times, you donned your armor and headed for the training facilities. However, as you stepped out of your room, you nearly collided with Nala Se. 

She didn’t flinch, embodying the typical Kaminoan stillness. Towering above you, she blinked slowly, her gaze piercing. “Before you go, I must see to your injuries,” Nala Se stated matter-of-factly. Without waiting for your response—accustomed to your practiced silence—she turned and headed towards the medical wing.

You followed quietly, your mind racing as you pondered which injuries she referred to. Certainly, your nose and the rest of your face still ached from the previous day's exertions, and your torso was a tapestry of bruises, but these were all injuries that had been treated before. Moreover, Nala Se had scarcely crossed your path in recent weeks. Initially, she had helped you avoid detection, but she had not intervened since.

Her sudden appearance was less than comforting.

In the quiet of the medical facility, oddly void of the typical droids, Nala Se motioned to a bed. “Have a seat and remove your helmet.”

You were so preoccupied with thoughts of how your tardiness for training might disrupt your planned conversations that you barely registered her instructions. Nala Se said your name, snapping you back to the present.

Removing your helmet, you looked across the bed at her and realized her gaze was focused past you. It hadn’t been her calling your name.

Outside, Hunter, Wrecker, Tech, Echo, and Crosshair were on their way to the training facilities, helmets under their arms, when they noticed the Senator entering one of the medical rooms. Today, you weren’t cloaked in your typical attire but wore a robe of deep purple with gold threading, which seemed oddly formal.

Crosshair snorted, “Looks like we need to ease up on our little princess.”

Tech, who had been absorbed in his datapad, looked up. “To what are you referring?”

“I told you she was actin’ weird.” Wrecker said, more concerned than accusatory, ignoring Tech’s question. “Should we do somethin’?”

Echo, looking to clarify for Tech, gestured with his prosthetic arm. “We just saw the Senator enter the medical facility. And yes, we should check on her before heading to training.”

Tech paused, processing the information. He knew you well enough to be aware of your usual post-training soreness and kept an eye on the medical records associated with your after-training exams. You hadn’t sustained injuries severe enough recently to necessitate a deviation from your normal routine. He buzzed with suspicions and worried over the implications of your unexpected visit to the medical facility at such an unusual time.

“Let’s get this over with.” Hunter said, moving forward with all but Tech who stood in place a second longer. If his suspicions were correct, this was not going to go well.

Back inside, you were faced with your reflection. Blinking back confusion, your mind struggled to process what you were seeing. Stepping towards you, adorned in the traditional regalia of your homeworld, was your sister, looking every bit the senator she was meant to be, her hair elegantly braided back with strands of gold and pearls woven through. The purples and golds of her dress made her appear radiant and regal—so much like your mother, and so unlike you in your scuffed armor and haphazardly tied hair.

Nala Se wordlessly removed herself from the room, making the entire setup evident.

“Sister?” Your voice barely whispered as you took a hesitant step forward, half-fearing that any sudden movement might cause her to vanish like a mirage.

Her eyes widened, her pace slowing, as she scanned your face. Her face, so alike and unlike yours, crumpled with emotion, her lip trembling. Then, with a burst of energy, she ran towards you, hands reaching out from the folds of her cloak. You caught her in a tight embrace as she collided into you, her presence grounding the surreal moment.

She didn’t speak at first, only managing to choke back muffled sobs against your shoulder. You rested your head against hers, holding her close, and savored the familiar scent of her perfume—a reminder of days long past. “I’ve missed you,” you murmured, your voice not choked with sadness but steady and comforting. You had always been the pillar for her to lean on; this time was no different.

Your sister pulled back, rubbing tears away with the heel of her hand. She managed a shaky smile, laughing through another small sob. "I’ve been so worried. I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner."

You shook your head with a smile, gently gripping her shoulders. "You have more important things to do. Like, I don’t know, running the galaxy," you joked. Pulling her into another hug, you held her close for a moment before stepping back to reassess her. "Though… what are you doing here?"

Your sister took your hand, her grip soft against your calloused skin, and squeezed it tightly. "I’ve come to take you home. Mother—"

"Mother?" you interrupted, your tone sharpening as you pulled your hand away.

“We need you-”

“We?” You repeated louder. The joy of your sister’s visit dimmed the instant you remembered why you were standing together in a Kaminoan facility in the first place. “If this is for her, you shouldn’t be here.”

Your sister pressed a hand to her chest, perturbed by your tone. You’d never spoken to her like that. “You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

Swallowing the instinct to give in to her, you reached for your helmet. “I don’t need to. You know why I’m here and I intend to see it through. You should leave-”

The sounds of the doors whirring open cut you off as you snapped your helmet on in a hurry.

Suddenly confused, your sister opened her mouth to say something, but instead you heard a familiar voice and the strength you’d maintained was replaced by panic.

The sudden arrival of Crosshair and the rest of Clone Force 99 sliced through the tense atmosphere like a vibroblade. “How touching,” Crosshair drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he rounded the privacy divider at the room's entrance. “What is our little princess doing alone with a reg? I didn’t realize you had a pet.” His cold gaze landed on you, igniting a tremor in your hands.

Your sister’s expression twisted in a stomach churning and familiar way. She scoffed and turned, “Little princess?” She spat the words out, her disdain palpable. You felt like you might gag yourself.

Your attention snapped to Tech who was just as stunned as you’d been moments before. Apparently he’d not predicted this. Hunter kept a straight face, eyebrows a little furrowed. If he had any suspicions about your dual identity, this chaotic reveal was likely skewing his thoughts. Echo, ever the sentinel, stood slightly taller, his posture tightening as if preparing for conflict. Wrecker towered behind the group, watching on with a rare sense of seriousness.

Crosshair, shifting his weight casually and placing a toothpick between his lips, continued to provoke. “What? Don’t want him knowing about our little fun together?” His wording would’ve made you laugh had the situation been different. He stirring up a misunderstanding for his own amusement.

Your sister didn’t bite. She cocked an eyebrow, giving the sniper a challenging stare before turning her attention back to you. “Are these the clones that have been training you?” Her tone was sharp, and her expression mirrored the stern demeanor of your mother.

Caught between weeks of training to maintain silence in your armor and the escalating tension, you found yourself paralyzed, struggling to formulate a response. It seemed all you could do was breathe through the growing panic.

“You two know each other?” Wrecker piped up.

Your sister, her confusion morphing into frustration, glanced quickly back at the group. “Answer me,” she demanded, her voice heavy with authority that did nothing to ease the stiffness of your tongue.

“You little shit,” Crosshair fumed, stepping towards you but immediately restrained by Hunter’s firm grip. Despite being held back, he snapped, “Show respect and answer her.”

Receiving his anger as an unnamed clone never felt as painful as the anger directed to you now.

Whirling on them, your sister jabbed a finger at him. “Who do you think you’re talking to, clone?” The disrespect in the way she said ‘clone’ gutted you and visibly startled Wrecker and Crosshair.

“Me?” Crosshair retorted, pointing a finger back at her. “Why are you defending him?”

“Him?” Her voice rose almost to a shrill. You reached out, trying to pull her back from the brink of the confrontation, only to have your hand sharply slapped away. She spun around to face you. “Take that ridiculous thing off!” She reached for your helmet, and this time, you reflexively slapped her hand away.

Crosshair, seething with anger, wrenched free from Hunter's grasp and charged toward you. Tech's shouts echoed behind him, but Crosshair was undeterred. He brushed past your sister with a dismissive flick, gripped the rim of your helmet with one hand, and shoved you backward with the other. Just as you tumbled to the floor, your sister retaliated, pushing him away forcefully. From your position on the ground, you didn't see it, but the sharp slap she delivered resounded through the room.

With his cheek stinging from the slap, Crosshair held his ground, his grip white-knuckled on your helmet as he turned a furious gaze on the woman standing defiantly before him. The intensity in her eyes was something entirely new to him. They locked eyes, each poised for further confrontation, when a realization dawned on Crosshair.

He’d never seen you look quite like this. In fact, you seemed like a completely different person. Dropping the toothpick from his lips, confusion replaced the anger on his face as he scrutinized the subtle differences in the face before him—slight variations in aging lines and hair length. There was more than that, Crosshair realized as he picked out the innumerable differences.

“Crosshair…” Echo said hesitantly. Still sat on the floor, you were on full display for Echo.

Wrecker’s face fell as he glanced around Crosshair at you.

Steadying a shaky breath, you gathered what composure you could and pushed yourself up off the floor. "Calm down," you whispered, touching your sister’s shoulder as you rose beside her.

Standing there, you couldn't bring yourself to look directly at Crosshair, afraid of the disgust you might see mirrored on his face. You missed the horror breaking across him. Instead, you kept your gaze fixed on your sister, silently pleading, "Sister, please."

Snapping her hand out, your sister harshly gripped your face and forced it towards the men. “You're the ones who did this to her?” She was likely referencing the scar marking your nose or the other tiny, healed wounds your helmet had dealt you over time.

Heat scorched your face as you were forcibly put on display. You reluctantly met the eyes of Clone Force 99. Crosshair’s face was pale, his brows furrowed deeply and his mouth slightly ajar in a mix of horror and disbelief. Echo and Wrecker were in similar shades of shock. Hunter, on the other hand, looked almost regretful. 

Gently removing your sister’s tight grip, you attempted to soothe her. “They didn’t know. Mother-”

“Do not blame Mother for your stupid decisions!” She screamed, gesturing a hand at you.

“Stupid decisions?” You challenged, feeling insulted. “My decisions have been for you. So I can keep you safe.”

“I didn’t tell you to do something so childish and I didn’t tell you to go and ruin your face.” You inhaled sharply at her words. She knew how to slap with more than just her hand.

Ignoring the clones, she straightened herself, her demeanor cooling into a composed facade that echoed your mother's authority. “Enough.” she stated firmly, making you straighten your posture subconsciously. “You are to come home and act as my body double at an upcoming gathering. The clones who trained you are to act as your security.” Pulling her hood up to shroud her face, you saw a glimpse of your gentle sister once more. “We will discuss your future afterwards.”

With that, she was gone. 

Left alone with the squadron, you looked to the ceiling as opposed to facing them immediately.

Tech approached, saying your name. The others whipped their heads to him, the familiarity in his tone throwing them off. “Are you alright?” He asked gently.

“You knew about this?” Echo accused, turning on Tech.

“Of course I did.” Tech said quickly and dismissively.

Crosshair's hands clenched into fists repeatedly, his anger barely contained. "Was this all a game to you?" he growled, his gaze intense and accusing as he finally turned to you.

You were to weary to be angry at him. How he could ever think being pummeled everyday for weeks was anything close to a game was beyond you.

Meeting his fierce stare you offered a weak smile. It lasted only a second before it fell with your eyes. “No, never. I was sent here for training… I didn’t mean to deceive you.” Your mouth pressed into a tight line. “I’m sorry you were dragged into this.”

The room fell silent. Wrecker, who had been silent until now, finally spoke, his voice a mix of confusion and concern. "So, all this time, you were…”

“Yes,” You finished for him. “But I didn’t mean for it to happen like this. I’ve been taking all the training seriously.”

“It shows.” Echo said softly.

Hunter stepped forward. “Alright, we can sort this all out later.” He gave you a firm nod. “As a team. But right now, we have a mission.” He extended you a hand and a smirk, an offering. “The rest… you can explain on the way.”

Your chest caved at the sight. Taking his hand you choked out, “Gladly.”

Tech adjusted his goggles with a smile. “Then that settles it.” Brandishing his datapad, he started scrolling through the screen. “And I have compiled a list of questions that will clarify this entire ordeal.”

Hunter walked beside you, placing an encouraging hand on your back. “Let’s get going.”

Echo and Wrecker still looked conflicted, but nodded in agreement with Hunter's decision, and even Crosshair, though still visibly upset, did not contest.

Tech gave one final note. “All things considered, that went far better than even I could have predicted.”

@bruh-myguy-what i hope you like <3

[vodika-vibes]

Hello!

First off congrats on 650+! That's A huge accomplishment! 🥳

Secondly, could I ask for a Jesse soulmate AU where soulmates feel each other's pain? Maybe the reader works in like the medical field and he's always coming in injured.

Thank you and congrats!

I Love You

Summary: You’ve always known that you’re soulmate was prone to injury. You can feel his pain, after all. So it made sense for you to go into medicine. You kind of regret it when Jesse becomes your most frequent patient.

Pairing: ARC Trooper Jesse x Reader

Word Count: 1104

Warnings: None

Prompt: Soulmate AU - Soulmates share each other's pain

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: Thanks you and thanks for your request! This is been mostly written for a couple of days now, I just needed to fine-tune it, lol. Sorry that it's not terribly long, though.

You know that Jesse will visit you before he even arrives at your front door. The dull ache in your shoulder is a rather telling hint. Honestly, your soul bond being shared pain is probably the most unfair soul bond in the history of soul bonds.

Your twin sister’s soul bond is color, her eyes change color based on what emotion her soul mate is feeling.

But nooo, you have to have a pain-sharing soul bond with a soldier. A clone soldier at that.

Oh well, there’s no point in bitching over it. It’s not like you can change it, and you wouldn’t want to have a different soulmate anyway.

You scurry around your apartment, setting out the medical equipment you might need based on what the pain feels like to you, and where it’s located, and you throw open your apartment door the moment the bell rings.

Jesse is holding his shoulder, a pained grimace on his face, though he does manage to favor you with a loving smile. “Have you been waiting long?” He asks as he steps into your apartment and heads towards the chair that’s waiting for him.

“Not that long, it hasn’t been so long since you’ve gotten hurt.” You counter as you trail after him, “What happened?”

“I got on the wrong side of a natborn.” Jesse explains, groaning as he sinks into the chair, “Honestly, I think he was just looking for someone to pick a fight with.”

“Oh, Jesse,”

“I’m not hurt that badly,” He reassures, as he reaches up with his good hand and cups your face, “And the natborn is fine. I didn’t lay a finger on him.”

“You should have laid him out.” You say with a sigh as you rub your cheek against his hand.

“It’s not worth the headache, love.”

“I thought things were getting better for you all?” You ask as you gently help him remove the top of his blacks. Jesse releases a pained groan as he moves, and you press an apologetic kiss to his temple. 

“Things are getting better,” He replies as you set his top on the kitchen table and kneel in front of him to get a better look at his injuries, “But change doesn’t happen overnight.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t go to Kix,”

“Hm. I could go to Kix, who would scold me for getting into a fight. Or I could come to you, and have you give me kisses as you patch me up. Not a hard choice,” Jesse counters with a grin that turns into a grimace as you lightly touch one of the, quickly, reddening bruises.

You drop to your knees in front of him, your hands moving to his ribs to check the extent of the damage. One of the good things about your soul bond, you suppose, is that he can’t hide any injuries from you. 

After all, you feel a ghost of his injuries every time he gets hurt.

“Well,” You murmur as you glide your fingers, gentle but probing, across his ribs, “The good news is that nothing is broken, just badly bruised.”

Jesse watches you with gentle eyes as you sit back on your heels and look up at him, there’s a small smile on his handsome face and you can’t help but tilt your head, questioningly, to the side.

He reaches out for you and cups your face with both of his hands, and you know that this is hurting him because of the sudden flair of almost pain in your sides, but there’s no hint of that pain on his face.

“Jesse?”

“I love you.” He breathes out as he scans your face. He lightly strokes your cheeks with his thumb, and you lean into his touch without really thinking about it.

It’s the first time he’s said those words to you. Oh, sure. He’s kissed you, and more, before. But the word love has never once come into play.

Well, it never came into play for him.

The honest truth is that you’ve loved Jesse since the first time you met him. When he was bruised and bloodied and carrying his unconscious brother to the door of your veterinary clinic, and asked for your help because the only other clinic in the area refused to help them. 

You knew he was your soulmate as soon as you saw him, his obvious injuries clearly matched the injuries you were feeling, and while you wanted to talk to him about it, helping them outweighed your personal needs…so you just never mentioned it.

Luckily, Jesse is a pretty clever man, because he showed up three days later, in perfect health, with a single white flower and a sheepish smile. Turns out that he pinged you as his soulmate at the same time that you did only he needed to talk to one of his brothers about it before talking to you.

You didn’t mind. Meeting your soulmate is a huge thing.

Plus, you did the same thing, so it’s not like you can judge.

Your eyes close as you lean into his touch, enjoying the warmth and safety of him for a moment before you open your eyes and favor him with a warm smile.

“You love me?” You ask, your voice soft.

“I do.” Jesse leans in and presses his forehead against yours, “Is that okay?”

You hum softly, your hand coming up to lightly press against his cheek, “It’s perfect.” He relaxes under your touch, and you lightly stroke his cheek, before you pull away, “But I do still need to patch you up.”

“Do you have to?” Jesse asks, a distinct whine in his voice, “Can’t we cuddle instead?”

“We can cuddle after I patch you up, Jesse. And not a moment sooner. Kix will have my head if I let you leave here without making sure you’re healthy.”

He shoots you a pathetic look, and you fold your arms, unimpressed.

“Fine, I suppose I can handle you patching me up,” Jesse admits with a sigh.

“Thank you, Jesse.” You lean up and press a light kiss to the corner of his lips, “Also, for what it’s worth, I love you too.”

He freezes, a look of astonishment crossing his face, and then he grins and almost throws himself at you. You yelp as the both of you topple to the floor, though you’re not able to say much more as his lips crash against yours in a deep, passionate kiss.

And, really, you shouldn’t be humoring him about this, he needs to get patched up. But just a few kisses won’t hurt.

[momojedi]

— OMEGA

topic. hunter x gn! jedi! reader

**

type. loss, pt 5 note. it’s back baby. hi, hello, I’ve been super busy lately. I started my graduation year in september and I’ve been so busy since, it’s crazy :’) I’m trying to save some time out of school for writing and art so I can bring back this blog for you all! warnings. tantiss, creepy hemlock? laboratory, panicking tag list: @ooostarwarsfandom501st @shadow-rebel-223

star wars masterlist/loss masterlist || pinned post

The air is tense as we march down the endless, sterile corridors of Tantiss, the commander's blaster barrel digging into my back threateningly while troopers and scientists scurry past us in a rush. Confused, I raise a brow. It's only when my focus drifts away from my steps and my gaze is following another hurrying doctor that I bump into someone, shoulder hitting another shoulder and a hiss erupts from the very person in front of me. "Sorry!" I immediately turn to look at them when I'm met with a deadly pair of brown eyes.

Clone eyes are nothing I'm unfamiliar with. Over the course of the Clone Wars I worked with more republic troopers than I could probably count. Time and time again have I interacted with those very brown eyes, laughed with them, cried with them and sometimes even watched the light drift from them as they slipped into a final slumber. Still, the eyes I'm pierced by now are different. They're far sharper yet exhausted, too, as if they'd seen things, very bad things. I scan the stranger's face. He looks nothing like a clone; taller, slimmer and with edgier features, yet the eyes give it away. A fine crosshair covers the side of his face.

"Watch your step." He snarls at me in a rough tone before being shoved forward by the prisoner behind him. I barely have time to register what just happened when the commander drives the blaster into my back, pushing me to move further myself.

I remain silent for a bit, stumbling forward while lingering on the strange clone internally. He seemed so ... familiar. But my mind is quickly cleared when, suddenly, the static of a comm makes my ears perk up. The commander grips my arm, making me still.

"The guests will arrive shortly, sir," a voice chirps from the other side of the line. Then I'm shoved again. "Hurry," the commando barks behind me, "we can't be late." Digging my nails into my palms and trying my best to swallow my already battered pride, I stumble ahead.

Eventually, we halt in front of a doorway. The commando types a code into the terminal and the path ahead opens, leading into a large laboratory. The air smells sterile and sharp, likely influenced by various chemical reactions and a distant beep erupts from a monitoring system behind us, far enough to seem insignificant, yet loud enough to be irritating. But that’s nothing compared to the sight in front of me that leaves me wrinkling my nose in disgust.

Dr. Karr and Hemlock stand together, deep in conversation as we approach. Hemlock looks up with a smile, and there’s a glint in his cold eyes that unsettles me, as if they see right through me. “Ah, Commander,” he addresses the trooper, assessing me while clasping his hands behind his back. “Thank you for your attendance.” I scoff. “Didn’t exactly have the choice.” At that, Hemlock chuckles dryly. “Well, Dr. Karr, they’re all yours now.” His voice is low as he speaks to her, but his gaze never leaves me. My stomach tightens, but I refuse to look away. Whether it’s an act of defiance or fear, I don’t know, but I don’t really have time to think about it anyway when I hear Dr Karr’s voice pipe up.

“Omega,” she calls flatly, and the familiar face of the little girl who had once brought me comfort appears beside her. Suddenly, as soon as the name reaches my ears, the sight of her makes my blood run cold. Memories crash into me—Hunter and his brothers, Tech’s quiet stories of their lost sister, and the night that tore me from them forever. My eyes widen, locking onto Omega. It takes every ounce of control not to start hyperventilating. My pulse races, my breath shallow, and in my head; one word repeats. Omega.

Lost in shock, I barely register the shackles loosening around my wrists. Hemlock’s smug voice drifts through the haze, but I can hardly focus. “You’ll have to excuse me,” he hums, his tone dripping with false courtesy. “I have important business to attend to. Though I trust you’re in good hands?” His question is more a statement, leaving no room for defiance. Dr. Karr nods. “Yes, sir.” He smiles, that infuriating, condescending smile. “Wonderful.” And just like that, he’s gone, the commando trailing after him.

I watch them leave, feeling utterly paralyzed, drowning in the chaos of my thoughts. What now? What am I supposed to do with all this… this truth that stands right in front of me? The weight of it presses down on me, so heavy I can barely breathe. Hunter’s desperation and sleepless nights looking for clues, Tech and Echo’s constant connections, Wrecker’s ongoing nightmares. Everything we’ve been searching for—every answer we’ve bled for—is here. But now that it’s staring me in the face, I don’t know how to handle it.

“Uhm, are you coming?”

The sound of her voice snaps me out of my daze. I spin around to find Omega watching me, hesitant, unsure. She seems smaller now, more fragile than the image I’d built up in my mind. I run my tongue over my cracked lips, trying to form words, but the world feels too overwhelming to speak. All I can do is stare, frozen in place, lost in the enormity of it all.

So I just nodded and followed quietly.

[tcwmatchmakingau]

Commander Mayday illustration by @nika6q

A Match for Mayday: Chapter 1

Editor's note: This fic is a collaboration between @nika6q (artwork) and @dystopicjumpsuit (story)

Pairing: Mayday x Flower Farmer Reader 

Rating: T

Wordcount: 2.2k

Warnings and tags: fluff

A/N: dedicated to @nika6q ❤️‍🩹

Read Chapter 2 here!

Your sister has always had immaculate taste. From her gorgeous flat in a Coruscant high-rise, to the handsome trooper currently staring down at her with adoration in his soft brown eyes as she wraps her arm around his waist, to the selection of high-quality brews in the conservator which you are currently raiding, she has curated a beautiful life for herself. She’s been your best friend since the day she was born, and you couldn’t be happier for her. You didn’t have an easy childhood, and seeing your little sister settled and thriving is everything you had hoped for her during those difficult days. 

Her boyfriend—no, make that fiancé—practically worships her. As you watch them through the sliding glass door, you realize you’ve never seen her look as content as she does in that moment, smiling softly up at Hexx. Unbeknownst to you, an identical smile plays on your own lips as you close the conservator door. Just as you do, a latecomer enters the kitchen, and you turn automatically to greet him, your eyes widening as you take him in. 

He’s a clone, but damn, what a clone. He looks older than Hexx and most of his brothers, though that might be due to his beard and longer hair. He’s tall and solidly built, and even in civilian clothing, he looks imposing. His long sleeves are rolled up to reveal forearms corded with muscle, with a hint of tattoo ink peeking from the edge of the fabric.

“Hello,” you greet him, that soft smile still in place as you introduce yourself.

“Mayday,” he replies, and his voice is deeper and and more gravelly than you’ve heard from other clones. “Pleasure to meet you.” 

Up close, you can see faint lines around his eyes, and a sprinkle of silver in his hair. Definitely older than Hexx, then. 

“Can I get you a beer?” you offer. “Or are you a whiskey man?”

“A beer sounds great, thanks,” he says, and you hand him the cold bottle you just pulled out of the conservator. His fingers brush against yours, soft and warm, and his eyes follow you as you turn to pull another bottle out of the conservator. “How do you know Hexx and Sunni?”

“Sunni is my sister,” you reply.

“I thought I saw the resemblance,” he says. “Why aren’t you out partying with the others?”

“Just came in for a drink,” you reply. He arches an eyebrow, and you buckle immediately under his unspoken interrogation. “And to hide for a few minutes.”

“Now, why would you want to hide?” he asks, tapping his bottle against yours and taking a long sip.

You shrug. “Not a huge fan of crowds. They make me nervous.”

“You must hate living on Coruscant, then,” he says.

“I would if I lived here,” you reply.

“You’re not local?” he asks, and you’re not sure if you’re imagining the hint of regret in his tone.

“No, I live on Nakadia,” you reply. “I’m only on Corrie for the engagement party.”

“Nakadia?” he asks. “Then you must be the farmer.”

“Yes, I own a flower farm there,” you reply. “How did you know?”

“Hexx told me they were having the wedding at your farm. You’re a brave woman to agree to host that many clones for a party,” he says with a charming smile.

“I’d do anything for Sunni,” you reply. “But I have to admit it’s weird to think that she’s getting married when I still see the adorable little girl with fluffy hair and a face covered in jelly when I look at her.”

“I know the feeling,” Mayday says with an ironic twist of his mouth. “We do what we can for them, but in the end, we have to trust them to know what they’re doing.”

“Hexx seems like a good man,” you say tentatively. “And he makes her happy.”

“Have you known him long?” he asks.

“I’d only spoken to him on holocalls until I got to Corrie three days ago,” you reply. “What about you? Did you serve with him?”

Mayday nods. “I’m his commanding officer, at least for the moment. I can tell you that there’s not a more loyal soldier in the GAR. He’ll take good care of your sister.”

“When you say ‘for the moment,’ what does that mean? Is he being reassigned?” you ask curiously. Sunni hadn’t mentioned it.

“Not to my knowledge,” he replies. “But I am retiring.”

He seems too young to be retiring, but there is a weariness about his eyes that makes you think he’s earned it.

“What will you do then?” you ask, relaxing back against the countertop.

Mayday mimics your laid-back posture, leaning against the wall as he answers. “Haven’t decided yet. I might just spend some time enjoying being the only person in charge of my time.”

“You’re not going to rush down to RTL to find the love of your life?” you ask, a teasing light springing into your eyes.

“Nah, not for me,” he replies. “I’d prefer to meet somebody organically.”

“Understandable,” you reply. “Though it certainly worked out well for Sunni and Hexx.”

“And what about you?” he asks.

“What about me?” You take a sip of beer and enjoy its icy effervescence on your tongue.

“Any plans to visit the matchmaker?”

“I’m not really interested,” you admit.

Mayday nods slightly, his eyes unreadable. “So you’re taken, then?”

The door slides open abruptly, and Sunni bursts in like the force of nature that she truly is, tugging Hexx behind her.

“Are you hiding in here?” she demands with an infectious laugh. 

“Of course not!” you lie with dignity. “I was entertaining your guest.”

“Welcome, Commander,” Hexx says, subtly standing at attention.

“Relax, Hexx. You don’t need to salute me at your own engagement party,” Mayday says with that easy, charming smile.

Hexx and Sunni sweep you back outside to join the rest of the party goers before you get a chance to tell Mayday that you are very single.

Months pass before you see Mayday again. Sunni is swept up in wedding plans, and you head back to Nakadia to tend to your farm. There’s plenty to do, between your normal responsibilities and the additional work of getting the property ready to host a large wedding. If you think Sunni is a social butterfly, she pales in comparison to Hexx and his multitude of brothers. Sunni is going to have the largest family-in-law in the galaxy, and it seems like half the GAR will be attending the wedding, along with their plus-ones, most of whom had met through Right to Love Matchmaking. Several of the matchmakers are also invited, and you hope they aren’t so dedicated to their work that they will harass you to sign up for their services. 

A few weeks before the wedding, Sunni and Hexx arrive with a large contingent of clones to help with the labor of getting the farm ready for such a large gathering. Veetch is there, of course, along with numerous members of the 77th Heavy Brigade. 

And, of course, Mayday is there. 

It takes an unbelievable amount of work to get the farm ready, but given that Hexx has quite literally brought a small army to help, it goes faster than you expect. The entire first day is spent clearing brush to make space for the large pavilion where the reception will take place. It is dirty, sweaty, backbreaking work, even with the help of the droids. You are exhausted at the end of the day, and after taking a quick shower, you make your way out to the front porch to watch the sunset. It’s your favorite vantage point, and it’s a nightly ritual that you almost never miss.

Tonight, though, someone has already claimed your spot. His tall, broad form leans casually against the pillar as he surveys your lovely farm. In the golden light of early sunset, you pick up the glints of lighter brown and gold in his dark hair, and for an instant, you wonder what it would feel like to twine your fingers through it. On impulse, you stop in the kitchen and pull two bottles of ale out of your conservator. You join him and offer him a bottle wordlessly. He nods his thanks and goes back to staring out at the kaleidoscopic fields of flowers. 

You didn’t see much of him today. He has been busy working on a special project in the barn, and his sleeves are littered with a fine layer of wood shavings. Your knees creak a little as you lower yourself to sit on the porch step, and soon he joins you. 

“Nice place you have here,” he says at last, breaking the evening serenity. “Peaceful.”

“That’s what drew me here,” you reply.

He looks at you curiously. “Trying to avoid crowds?”

You nod, not wanting to spoil the tranquility of the moment by delving into your personal history. “It’s a good place to live a quiet life.”

“That sounds…” he begins, but he trails off. 

His eyes have a faraway expression, and you wonder what horrors he’s seen to make him look so karking tired. He doesn’t continue, and you don’t prod him. Instead, you quietly watch the sun paint the sky in a wash of pastel. As the light fades and the dusk creeps in, you exchange occasional desultory remarks, but mostly you sit in companionable silence, drinking slowly and simply enjoying each other’s nearness.

“It’s a good place for a wedding,” he observes.

“Yes, I always thought if I ever got married, it would be here.” You smile. “I wouldn’t want the big party, though. Just a few people. Sunni and Hexx, a few close friends. A simple ceremony, and then a cozy dinner party under those trees,” you say, gesturing at the nearby copse of acthorn trees.

“You’ve thought it out,” he observes.

You let out a small, self-deprecating chuckle. “Kind of hard not to with everything going on.”

“That’s fair,” he says. “I never thought much about weddings. Didn’t think it would be a possibility.”

“Is this the first you’ve been to?” you ask curiously.

He shakes his head. “The matchmakers have been busy. Half of the commanders have paired up, and the other half are just waiting for their turn.”

“But not you?”

He shrugs. “Can’t say I ever thought much about the war ending, until it did. By then, it seemed a little late to start planning a life I never thought I’d have.”

You frown. “It’s not too late. You’ve earned that life, Mayday.”

“Maybe,” he acknowledges. “But I won’t find it on a speed date.”

He’s waiting for you the next night, too, and the one after. Each evening, you open up more to him, and the two of you spend hours conversing in low voices late into the night.

“How many kinds of flowers do you grow?” he asks as he looks out across the vibrant patchwork of blossoms that stretches to the edge of your farm.

“Hundreds,” you reply. “Not all at once. I stagger the plantings to extend the growing season and keep the income a little more predictable.”

“Which ones are your favorite?”

“Fire lilies,” you reply. “They’re unpopular with buyers, but I still grow a patch of them just for myself.”

“I’ve never seen one,” he says.

“Would you like to?”

“Very much,” he replies.

You stand slowly. You’re accustomed to hard work, but the past few days have been a whole other level of manual labor. A tiny moan of relief escapes you as you stretch your tired muscles. When you turn to Mayday, he is watching you with an indecipherable expression. He’s very good at that, you’ve noticed. Sometimes he is very open and easy to read, and others he is incredibly guarded. He must be an excellent sabbac player, you reflect.

With a small smile at the thought, you lead him through the twilight into the garden. In the fading purple light, the lush perfume of the lilies surrounds you in a sweet, heady cloud.

“May I pick one?” he asks.

“Of course,” you reply. 

Most people don’t bother to ask, and you never realized how much it bothered you until Mayday’s courtesy reminds you that you have a right to say no. He plucks a blossom carefully, reverently, making sure not to damage the rest of the plant. 

“They’re beautiful,” he says quietly. “I can see why they’re your favorite. Why don’t buyers like them?”

“They don’t last long once they’re picked,” you reply. “It makes transporting them tricky.”

“Then I’m sorry I picked this one,” he says.

“Don’t be,” you reply. “There will be more tomorrow.”

The sun has fully set now, and his dark eyes reflect the pale light of the moons. He examines the blossom closely, taking in the graceful curves of the petals, the striations and speckles at the center, the delicate filaments of the stamens. His eyes rise to your face, and his hands follow nearly unconsciously. His knuckles brush subtly against your cheek as he tucks the flower into your hair. Your mouth suddenly feels very dry, and you swallow without meaning to.

“Beautiful,” he repeats.

---

Read Chapter 2 here!

[tunkers05]

knight in shining beskar, pt. 1 | din djarin x princess!reader

A/N: i've been rewatching mandalorian and I needed to write something about him. feedback is very much appriciated!

tags: canon divergence, afab reader, reader is mentioned to have hair but not much more of a physical description than that

wc: 2k ish

Sweat dripped down my brow as I ran through the wooded jungles of Adelphi. My dress is being snagged on branches, but I don’t have time to think about this. Just hours ago I was with my fiance visiting the New Republic base here. Now I am running away from New Republic soldiers all because my husband has lied to me, and them. I can hear their speeders catching up to me, even with my large jumpstart. 

I felt my luck changing as I saw a large silver ship with the hull open. I turned behind me and saw none of the soldiers behind me yet. I made a beeline for the ship. I quickly turned my head and saw the refresher door. It was cramped but would serve as my hiding spot until the Republic passed me. I tried catching my breath while staying silent. I was praying to the gods that whoever owned this ship wouldn’t choose now to shower. Right as I had that thought, I heard the thuds of boots coming down a ladder. I held my breath and closed my eyes tightly. 

“Can I help you?”, I heard a modulated voice say. For a moment, I thought they had found me out. I was quickly proved wrong by hearing two other distinct voices.

“Hello. We are looking for a runaway. Have you seen anyone lurking around?”, A gruff voice said. I recognized this one as the person who was chasing after me. 

“No. It is just me.”, the previous voice responded. I felt a sigh quietly escape and relief washes over me. There was a long quiet pause until I heard the Republic soldiers say thanks and leave. I stayed still, waiting for the ship’s owner to slowly return to where they were. It seemed like that would never come. The assumed 30 seconds felt like hours. 

The silence was broken by the same robotic voice from earlier, “They’re gone. Can you come out now and tell me why you’re on my ship?”. A stark chill ran through my body but I couldn’t make myself move. I felt like prey facing a predator, and I wasn’t even sure what the predator was. I guess too long had passed because the voice spoke up again, “I won’t ask again.”. I let out a shaky breath and pressed the button to open the refresher door. Slowly I walked out and was taken aback by who stood in front of me.

He was tall, taller than most people. Honestly, maybe he wasn’t and it was just his bulky shiny armor. I couldn’t see his face, but his puncturing gaze was there all the same. I had never seen anyone dressed like him. The clone troopers of the Empire were the closest I could think of, but something told me this person was different. Again, the person in front of me was annoyed by my actions and gruffly spoke, “I thought I made myself clear. What are you doing on my ship?”.

His tone was one that struck primal fear into me. Judging by his aura, I was right to think of myself as prey in this situation. I meekly spoke, “My name is (y/n) Organa..  I am a princess from Alderaan.”.

His stance did not change as he processed what I had said, “Alderaan is gone. It has been for a long time.”

“I know. I am related to Leia Organa. Well not really, my parents are Bail and Breha Organa. And her parents are them but she is still my sister. I mean I haven’t seen her in a long time. Not since I was a child because I was sent away, so I wasn’t on Alderaan when it was destroyed. Obviously, because here I am”, I said quickly. I feared if I couldn’t prove who I was, then I would be killed and I was avoiding that. It felt like that was coming to fruition because he didn’t say anything for a long time. He just looked at me with his shiny helmet and vacant visor. 

He broke the silence, “And why were you running from the Republic?”

The whole day came crashing down on me. This was the first moment I had been able to process what had happened. I wasn’t really sure what had happened and I was scared that would be my downfall in this situation. “My husband had lied to them. They thought we had loyalty to them and I guess he didn’t.”, I explained. 

“You didn’t do anything yet you’re on the run.”

“I know what it sounds like! My husband and I, we aren’t close. I don’t know much about him, let alone his business!”, I said in my defense. And we were back to him just looking at me, and for some reason that made me more mad than being chased and shot at. “Listen, one moment I was sitting alone eating lunch, and next thing I know sirens are going off and my aid is telling me to run. I didn’t really have time to explain to them that I wasn’t associated with my husband’s lies.” He paused even longer than before while I stood there seething. First I am betrayed by a man I’ve spent years with, then I get chased through the woods in my favorite pale blue dress and flats, and now I am being interrogated by someone who seems to have no sympathy for my cause. And yeah, maybe I did trespass onto his ship, but I needed to care only about myself at that moment. 

“Are you lying to me?”, he asks after our longest bout of silence yet.

“What do I have to gain from lying?”

“Lack of accountability from your actions.”, he said with what almost sounded like an amused scoff.

“I know you don’t know me, but I can swear to you on all the gods that I know absolutely nothing about what is going on. I barely talk to my husband, so how could I be a part of whatever he did? I just needed to get away from the Republic, and your ship was the only cover I could find.”, I said as calmly as I could. I still felt the adrenaline coursing through me as I waited for his response. I don’t know why I cared so much that he believed me. I think it started with not wanting to be killed but it seems to have morphed in me. I needed him to believe me, just to have someone believe me. 

He sighs, “Okay. Now you have to leave. They have probably left by now.”

This might have been the worst thing he could have said. Where would I go? I wouldn’t know where to start, this is the first time I have been on this planet. Surely they won’t stop looking for me, and I have no doubt my husband would sell me out if he could. These racing thoughts did nothing to soothe the beating of my heart. “I can’t. They will… kill me if they find me, or do something worse than that. I don’t even know where I would go. I haven’t spoken to my sister in years,” I said as I felt an anxious sweat bead on my brow. 

The silver-plated man placed his hands on his hips, “That is not my problem. “

“Maybe I could come with you! I could find my sister and stay with her!”, I pleaded, as this was the only idea I could come up with. He obviously was not amused in the slightest at this proposition. “Please! I can pay you! I’m a princess, and not because of who I married,” I felt desperation creeping up on me. This really was my only option. I could almost see the gears turning in his head as I mentioned money. 

“You said you’re an Organa?”

“Yes! My sister’s name is Leia.”

He released another deep sigh, “I will take you to her, nothing else. And it will cost you 2000 credits. It’s not a cheap business to potentially make enemies of the New Republic.”

“Done. I promise”, I replied, not making any attempt to hide my relief. 

“Do you know where she is?”

“The last I heard she was on Chandrila with family.” I hadn’t spoken to Leia, but I still tried to keep tabs. I know of the important part she played in the destruction of the Death Star and everything before that. I also knew of her husband and son. Chandrila used to be the New Republic base, but it has since moved. Leia and her family still stayed there after the birth of her son Ben. Like I said, I had kept tabs. 

“A trip from the Outer Rim to the Core Words is a long one, even in hyperspace.”

“I can throw in another thousand credits”, I said quickly, not wanting to give him even an opportunity to take back his promise, “You have my word. I will pay you 3000 credits, and be out of your hair as soon as I can be.”

“Okay, deal. But you don’t ask for any detours and I drop you off, nothing more”, he said with a stern voice. As if I would try to take advantage of this situation. I still wasn’t sure this man wouldn’t kill me the moment I let my guard down. 

“I promise I will not make this hard for you,” right as I finished my sentence I heard a small cooing from the bunk area of the ship. I turned back to the man in confusion. 

“That is my… son. You are not to mess with him,” he said, opening the bunk and holding a small green baby. My heart melted at the sight of the child. The kid grumbled again at the realization of a new person. 

“I promise I won't. I love kids! I can babysit for you! I’m sure he is just the sweetest little guy.” I resisted the urge to reach out to him, even though I wanted to hold the little guy so much. 

“Maybe.”, the man said as he set the child down. The child immediately rushed to my legs and cooed up at me. “Hey kid, leave her alone,” the man said sternly.

I crouched down and scratched under his chin, “Oh he's okay! He’s not doing anything wrong.” The child leaned into my touch, and I felt a warmth of joy spread over me. I never had any interest in having kids, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t get along with them. After a long beat of silence, I realized I didn’t know the name of the man I was with. “So, um, what is your name? I should at least know that if I’m going to be on your ship for a little while.”

He paused oddly long for what I seemed to think was a very easy question, “I am a Mandalorian.”

I tilted my head at this. I had only really heard of Mandalorians but not in a long time. I thought they were all gone. “That’s cool but what is your name?”, I said as I continued to play with the child who was now messing with my hair. 

“You can call me Mandalorian.”

I scrunch my nose at that, “Can I call you Mando?”

“Yes, that is fine.”, Mando said curtly. He walked away to close the hull, “I have some spare clothes if you want them.”

I looked down at my dress, seeing that it was dirtier than I anticipated. My cheeks flushed at the fact I looked as tarnished as I did. I wasn’t used to being seen in any state of disarray, let alone in front of a stranger I met mere moments ago. “Thank you, I would appreciate that.”

He rummaged through one of the many closets and pulled out a small pile of fabric. He handed them to me and I grabbed them. I rose to my normal height and held the clothes to my chest, “I am going to change in the refresher”. He nodded, grabbed the child, and went up to the cockpit. 

I trudged to the refresher and turned on the stark white, hospital lighting. I turned to the small mirror and was shocked at what I looked like. There were specks of dirt lining my whole appearance and leaves in my hair. I felt my dried sweat all over my body. I turned to the shower in the refresher, making the executive decision that it would be okay. 

Once I was out, I put on the new clothes “Mando” gave me. It was a simple tan tunic, black loose pants, and black slip-on shoes. I felt immensely better now that I had clean clothes and wasn’t covered in dirt. I exited the refresher and placed my old clothes in the trash chute. There was no salvaging what I was wearing. It felt nice to throw away something from what could be one of the worst days of my life. The cockpit door was open, so I climbed up to speak to Mando.

The child perked up and waddled over to me. “Hey, little guy! Did you miss me?”. He motioned for me to pick him up and who was I to say no to that? 

The Mandalorian turned his chair around, “I see you showered.”

I felt my cheeks grow warm with embarrassment, “Yeah, I did. I hope that was okay.”

“It is”, he nodded as he turned back to look out the front. 

“I was wondering if it would be okay if I slept. It’s been a long day.”

Without turning around, he replied nonchalantly, “You don’t need to ask me for permission. There is a cot you can place on the floor. I would prefer you not to sleep in my bunk.”

I nodded even though I knew he wasn’t looking at me, “Okay, I understand”. I turned to the little guy, still entranced by my hair like earlier, “I’m sorry, buddy.” I placed him down and turned to leave. I paused, “Thank you. I appreciate everything.” The Mandalorian grunted in response which I guess was his version of you’re welcome. 

So, I left and went down to the hull. I got the cot out and laid down. As my head touched the flat pillow, I felt the jostling of the ship leaving the planet's surface. I wasn’t sure if sleep would happen but I at least knew I was safer than I was hours ago. 

[zoeykallus]

I humbly offer thee, Goddess of Fanfics, Queen of Clones, a wide variety of her favorite foods displayed on a carefully crafted mother of pearl dinner tray with sterling silverware, coupled with a bottle of the Gods' finest ambrosia.

May I beseech thee for a fic where Omega comes to see hunter's girlfriend as a big sister and the reader adopts her as such - just Omega fluff and happiness.

Or

One where hunter's girlfriend!reader rescues Omega and Crosshair from the empire and reunites them with Hunter. (A tall order. I've thought about doing this one myself, but I honestly believe that you're the only one that can do it justice).

Only when/if you're comfortable, Queen, I hope you're doing well! 💞

Aloha, loyal subject! 😋 Both ideas sound great. Unfortunately, there is still a lot to work through for me and my time is limited these days, so I can pick only one. I hope that's okay.

Well then, let me see what I can do here...

Hunter x Fem!Reader One-Shot - The Savior

Warnings: Angst/Canon Typical Violence/Fluff/Hurt/Comfort/Pfff, Canon, don't know her.

_______________

As a double agent, you work in the ranks of the Empire for the Resistance. Disguised. Your relationship with Hunter is dangerous, and any secret meeting with him, is therefore accordingly risky, and you see each other rather rarely. You are faced with a difficult decision when you realize that CF99 has taken some pretty tough losses. You are in a position where you could help, but you really have to risk everything.

________________

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

________________

>Master List<

The last time you spoke with Hunter was a little over a week ago. By now you know that Crosshair, a former member of Hunter's unit, is here on the station where you are stationed, as are so many other clones. A few days later, Tech, another member of Hunter's team, had an accident, was picked up more dead than alive by Storm Troopers and brought here as well. And today the girl was brought here, Omega. You've seen each other before, not often, and only in glimpses, but the girl recognized you right away. She's smart, didn't let on, so your cover is still intact. Until now. Omega is incredibly brave, she acts so mature for her age. Hunter has already taught her a lot. You haven't had a chance to tell Hunter that you've been transferred here, that you're okay, that Omega and his two brothers are still alive. You are plagued by an almost overwhelming inner turmoil. They have taken blood from the girl, but otherwise have no further tests scheduled yet. But you know Hemlock has more planned for her, you just don't know what yet.

Tech is lying in a baccta tank, it would take him a while to get back on his feet. You have an idea, a very dangerous idea, but for that you need help and the only one around you who is not injured at the moment and has enough combat experience is Crosshair. As you enter his cell, he sits on his cot and slowly raises his head, his eyes narrowed critically. His body language is not that of a prisoner; he does not seem rushed, or intimidated. On the contrary, his slow, confident movements are those of a hunter sizing up his prey. So they haven't broken him yet, good. He doesn't say a word, and neither do you at first. But after a while he snorts, "The next bitch with needles for me? You better get some helping hands, or I'll be jamming your needles down your throat". You frown, you sense the hatred resonating in his words, but the warning he utters tells you he's holding back. He wants to hurt you, he could, but he doesn't. Silently, you wonder why. "I don't have any needles with me," you say calmly, not moving from the spot.

Crosshair slowly stands up, and you are surprised how tall the slender clone soldier is. He strides towards you, even comes quite close to you. You don't back away, which leads him to look at you with interest. He tries to assess you, who you are, what you want, whether you might be a danger after all. "I need your help," you say calmly. He laughs humorlessly and finally hisses, "Go to hell." Unmoved, you tell him, "In case you haven't noticed, we're already in hell here." Crosshair blinks, then the corner of his mouth twitches very briefly, an implied smirk. "Maybe I misjudged you," he says thoughtfully, "It's possible I could like you after all." Crossing your arms in front of your chest, you raise your eyebrows in amusement, "You better not like me too much, I'm already dating one of your brothers" Crosshair blinks several times, then his brows move up. "You're confident, sassy, composed, not afraid of me...you must be Hunter's girl". You nod, impressed. "Not bad, a bullseye" Crosshair rolls his eyes, but then sits back down on the cot and says, "Yeah, I always hit the bull's eye, it's practically my signature. How would I be able to help you from in here?"

You smile and say, "I want you to help me help you."

The mood has reached a low that is almost unbearable. Hunter, Wrecker and Echo sit together on Pabuu, by the Marauder. Now and then, somber looks are exchanged, but no one says a word. They had failed to free Crosshair, instead they had even lost Tech, and shortly after Cid had betrayed them and Omega has been taken from them. Hunter feels adrift, his guilt eating him up from the inside out. He feels the loss physically, like a constant pain compressing his ribs. He longs for your comfort, your warm body against his, your comforting voice in his ear, your smell in his nose. Just when he needs you so badly, he can't reach you, and you haven't been in touch for a long time. The thought that he might have lost you too, keeps coming up and threatens to suffocate him, because you are the thought he clings to in his darkest moments to keep his head above water.

Even revenge was beyond reach for him. Cid immediately disappeared as soon as Hunter didn't look for a moment. The helpless rage hanging in his guts doesn't make the overall situation any better. For the first time, he has no plan, no idea what to do, no answers. Right now, he barely has enough motivation to breathe. He knows he can't give up, he still has brothers counting on him, and maybe Omega wasn't lost forever yet. But in the last mission he already lost one brother, his whole squad almost died. Now they were even fewer than before. Rex, of course, offered to help, as did Gregor and Howzer, but where should they start? How? Even with Tech's brilliant ideas, they had failed. Now Tech isn't around anymore. "I'm going to rip that bitch's head off," Wrecker growls. Hunter and Echo look at him, both a little surprised. Wrecker has never spoken like this before. Apparently there's also a point at which the kind-hearted, giant breaks. Echo finally sighs and says, "We all knew Cid wasn't a saint, but I didn't expect that." Hunter says somberly, "Neither did I, but that's the problem, I should have been prepared for this."

"Stop it," Wrecker growls, "It's not your fault, leader or not, you're still only human." Hunter doesn't want to discuss it, right now he just wants to bathe in self-pity and self-loathing, even though he knows how destructive that actually is. He walks past his two brothers into the interior of the shuttle without comment. From the cockpit, he hears a beep and realizes that they have received a message. "Guys come in, we have a message from an unknown sender". Wrecker and Echo hurriedly enter the cockpit. Echo looks at the sender's number and frowns. "I don't think the sender is really unknown to us." "You know the number?" asks Wrecker. He shakes his head and replies, "Not exactly, but take a closer look at the numbers, Hunter. Isn't that the date you met your flame. Our double agent?" For a moment, Hunter holds his breath, it takes him a small moment to regain his composure. This could be the glimmer of hope he can cling to now.

"You're right," he says a little breathlessly, and opens the message. There is no recording in the message, no video and no audio. Just a rather long string of numbers. "These are coordinates," Echo says after a moment's thought, "The first pair of numbers is the system, the second is several planets, and the third is a point in between. Maybe she wants to meet you there?" Hunter's heart beats up in his throat. His skin tingles, his pulse races. Is this really a message from you? He desperately hopes so. "You should go, at least one of us should find some comfort," Wrecker says with a wry smile. Echo frowns and says, "I don't want to be a killjoy, but she hasn't contacted you in a long time. And now she's sending a message with no picture or sound, just coordinates? This could be a trap" "Then we'll come along just in case," Wrecker grumbles, "And if it's not a trap, then we'll just have to close our eyes and ears for a while, so they can celebrate their meeting" Echo shrugs and says, "I can live with that. What do you say, Hunter?"

"I'll definitely look into it," Hunter says sternly, "but I can't ask you to come along." Wrecker unconsciously mimics one of Tech's mannerisms by jabbing his index finger vertically in the air and saying, "You can't forbid us, either!" Wistfulness spreads like a dull ache in his chest as Hunter sees the gesture, he misses Tech so much, but he smiles, and says, "You got that right, Wrecker."

It was not easy to find a trooper uniform that fits the sniper. It actually took several days to find and procure it. Omega wears handcuffs and walks in front of you, in front of Omega walks the disguised Crosshair. Next to you hovers the baccta tank you've covered up so no one can see Tech inside. Your pulse is racing, but outwardly you look absolutely calm. You are highly concentrated. This has to work, or you may all be doomed. Omega glances over her shoulder now and then, looking up at you nervously. You make sure no one hears or sees you at the moment and speak softly to her, "Look ahead, Omega, it's going to be okay." "Okay," the girl says softly and sighs. "We're almost there" you whisper to her. You're not so sure about that, but at least you try to radiate it. You make it as far as the hangar unmolested, but inside the hangar itself, a small group of Troopers consisting of four men stops you.

"What is that? A baccta tank? Where are you guys going with that thing? Who's the girl?"

You can see how Crosshair as well as Omega tense up. You have to do something, and you have to do it now, before things escalate. Adjusting your badge that clearly identifies you as a higher ranking officer, you use your full showmanship. The look you give the trooper is annoyed, angry, and condescending. You snarl, "You've got some nerve, Trooper. What's your ID number?" The Trooper pauses and looks at his fellow Troopers, he seems to be puzzled at first. When he looks back at you, you wave a finger at him. When he's finally within reach, you grab the fabric of his Blacks at his collar and pull the trooper down a bit, he leans in your direction in surprise, he definitely wasn't expecting that. "Take a good look at this ID, Trooper," you give him two breaths before continuing, "I've been personally ordered by Doctor Hemlock and Grand Admiral Tarkin to move the clone in this tank and the girl. The day started out shitty, I'm pressed for time, and you're getting on my nerves. If you don't fuck off right now and let me do my job, I'll make sure you get lined up against the nearest wall and shot, you little pipsqueak."

You push the trooper back again and nod to Crosshair, who rudely shoves the trooper back to his squad, underlining your act. "Sorry, M'am, won't happen again," says one of the other troopers. " I hope so for your sake," you grumble and resume your walk to the shuttle. Your heart races, you hardly dare to breathe, but you maintain the stony expression until you are inside the Imperial shuttle and the ramp has closed behind you. Finally, you breathe a sigh of relief. You feel sick with anxiety, on the verge of throwing up. Crosshair takes off the helmet, helps Omega secure the baccta tank in the cargo bay and says to you, "You're good, girl, almost gave me the willies". You say after a few breaths, with which you keep the nausea at bay, "I almost peed myself" The Sniper says with a wry smile, "Then you're a damn good actress, it for sure as hell didn't show" Crosshair finally makes his way to the cockpit and launches the shuttle. You strap Omega into one of the seats in the cockpit. The girl looks at you, but she doesn't protest. "We could be attacked, we're not quite safe yet, so I'm strapping you in," you explain calmly.

Omega nods in understanding. You are always surprised how brave the girl is. "Thank you," she says softly, "You risked a lot for us today. I can see why Hunter likes you so much." You laugh softly and smile. Hunter; just the thought of you seeing him again soon, should everything work out, makes your heart beat faster. "You better strap in too, they're already hailing us and I don't intend to answer them" Crosshair grumbles. You hurriedly sit down and are about to strap in when the first shots are fired at your shuttle. Crosshair makes two hard evasive maneuvers that almost throw you out of your seat again. Your fingers hastily grab the seatbelt, but each maneuver causes it to slip away from you again. You curse softly, your pulse racing. Another steep turn finally pulls you out of your seat. Everything turns for a moment, weightlessness, even your stomach seems to turn with the shuttle. Omega tries to reach for you, but you snap, "Don't!" You're afraid she might break her little fingers should the ship spin again in a moment and her fingers get tangled in your clothes. Then gravity kicks in again, and you slam into one of the other seats. Pain spreads like a wave through your ribs. Another quick spin of the ship, the back wall of the cockpit speeds towards you, the impact is violent, your world suddenly goes dark.

You slowly regain consciousness. You feel that you have been covered and are lying on soft ground. The surrounding voices are muffled, the words slowly become clearer, but they are spoken softly, as if they do not want to disturb you. Slowly, blinking, you open your eyes and hear Omega's little voice say excitedly, "She's waking up!" You hear quick footsteps. "Love, how do you feel?" Hunter's face appears above you. You breathe a sigh of relief, beaming at him. "We made it, didn't we?" you ask, a little breathlessly. Hunter's smile is warm and happy. "You did it, we're all together again," he says softly, gently stroking your cheek. You reach for his hand and hold it tightly where it touches your face. You say softly, almost in a whisper, "I missed you." Hunter sits down on the edge of the bed and leans over you, kissing your forehead, gently.

"I missed you too, Love, more than I can put into words". Crosshair briefly appears in your field of vision, "Hey Wildling, thanks, I won't forget this". Omega beams, "Me neither" and hurriedly follows the Sniper. You hear her start to pepper Crosshair with questions as the two leave the room and grin inside. "How's Tech?" you finally ask Hunter. Hunter laughs softly, "Right now he's still on crutches and has to rest a lot, but he's back to his old self, talking a lot, explaining absolutely everything he can think of to the people around him." That sounds like Tech, as you've come to know him, the thought is comforting. Hunter looks at you intensely. "I can't believe you really risked this, even gave up your cover at the Empire for this, your superiors at the resistance won't be happy. But I'm incredibly grateful, I don't even know what to say, how to thank you," Hunter suddenly says very seriously and urgently. You look at him and say, "I had to do it, it was the right thing to do, it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks or says. I had to follow my heart."

He takes your hand in his, brings it to his lips, and kisses the back of your hand. "You're much too good for me," he says softly. "What nonsense," you say with a laugh. Hunter smirks and lies down with you, gently wrapping his arms around you. You're only too happy to snuggle up to him with a relieved, happy sigh, enjoying his warmth, his closeness. "Will you do me a favor?" you ask in a whisper. "Anything you want, you just have to say it". After a deep breath in which you take in his scent, you say, "Don't ever let me go". His arms wrap around you a little tighter. "Your wish is my command"

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

@meshla-madalene

@chxpsi

@thebahdbitch

@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri

@darkangel4121

@ttzamara

@arctrooper69

@padawancat97

@agenteliix

@allsystemsblue

@palliateclaw

@either-madness-or-brilliance

@ortizshinkaroff

@andy-solo1

@hunterssecretrecipe

@heyitsaloy

@greaser-wolf

@extrahotpixels

@hated-by-me

@hunterxcrosshair

@malicemercy

@bebopsworld

@echos-girlfriend

@cpnt616

@dangraccoon

@jediknightjana

@pb-jellybeans

@antishadow2021

@sleepycreativewriter

@projectdreamwalker

@1vlouds

@bandnerdlevel43

[imarvelatstars]

Cyare

Pairings: Clone Trooper Sister x f!Reader

Content: wingman cody, first kiss, reader is awkward and flustered, fluff

Word Count: 3.3k

originally posted dec. 1st, 2023

[masterlist] [ao3 link]

Coruscant is the same as it always is, as is 79's - crowded, dirty, bright, a metallic mess built atop a subtle, hidden beauty. Sister sips at her drink, some bitter liquor that takes the edge off, and she sighs. She watches you flit shyly about at the fringes of the dance floor, watches the streaks of neon light on your skin as you bob your head to the music, and she feels her entire body go white hot and ice cold all at once.

An elbow in her ribs has her blinking back to the present, only to find that the Commander is watching her with an entirely too pleased glint in his eyes. Fierfek.

"We still have another day of shore leave," he says.

She could deny it. He's being vague enough that she could pass off the remark as anything other than what it actually is, but despite being embarrassed at getting caught staring, despite the flutter-bys in her stomach that start up any time she considers even approaching you, she finds that there's a part of her that doesn't want to shrug Cody's remark or its implication aside.

She opts for a single nod. An acknowledgement, an understanding, but nothing that will make her have to open her mouth. Force only knows what would come out.

Sparks and Raptor come bounding up then. Their drinks are spilling all over the place and Sparks is laughing so hard he's crying. They're going on about some stupid joke the pretty Chalactan bartender made and Cody's rolling his eyes and all that Sister can do is take another sip of her drink. She doesn't look in your direction again, she doesn't think about what it might be like to dance with you or to hold your hand, and she definitely doesn't think about your smile.

Or perhaps that beauty she always manages to seek out on her least favorite planet is just you.

Clones are, by default, all alike. That's kind of the whole point of them. But every clone you've ever met has made an effort to make himself different from his brothers - a different hairstyle or color, no tattoos, all tattoos, piercings, scars, armor paint, all of the above, sometimes none if they're shinies. It's incredible how they've crafted their own culture out of whispers of Mandalorian tradition like their progenitor before them and nods to the Jedi Order, to Coruscanti or Ryloth or Kel Dorin cultures that reflect their generals.

All two years of this war so far, though, and you've never seen a clone like her. Her. She's the only female clone you've ever met. Well, not met. Noticed. You noticed her the first time she came into 79's a few weeks back. It would be hard not to. She's tall and broad shouldered like her brothers, there's a thickness to her arms and thighs that screams about the type of fit, competent soldier she is. Her skin glows under 79's fluorescents, her teeth are brilliantly white when she smiles, but the thing that really gets you like, every time, is her hair.

You've gotten lost in glimpses of it too many times to count. When she first came in, her hair was braided tight against her scalp and her armor had a few streaks of blue and pink. Now, though, the braids are long gone. She's let her hair down from its bun and is - oh kriff, yeah she's shaking her hair out and it should not be giving you this many flutter-bys, yet here you are.

She's beautiful. Does she know? Is she aware of how stunning she is? Something about the sternness of her jawline, the strong angle of her nose, the swell of her shoulder muscles as they smooth out above her collarbones, right where her hair rests in large, frizzed curls. Fucking Maker, she makes you nervous. The fact that she gets her genes from Jango freaking Fett just makes you even more of a flustered disaster.

"You look lost."

The voice that startles you from your stupor belongs to the commander of the 212th himself, Cody. He's professional, but has been friendlier toward you of late, offering snippets of conversation when he comes to request refills for himself or his men. And woman, as the case may be.

You chuckle to yourself as you take the glass he offers you and start to refill it with liquor. "Promise I'm not," you say. "'m right where I'm supposed to be, aren't I?"

Cody nods, but his expression is thoughtful, slightly humored. "You're behind the bar, alright, but you're not here." His forearms brace against the lip of the bar as he leans in a bit, and it's the closest the commander's ever been to you since you first started working here. You almost wonder if this is his way of flirting with you. It's not such an awful idea, although it's tiresome in this environment. "Somethin' on your mind?"

You top off his glass and place it near one wrist, not too close to the bar's edge. "What makes you say that?" you ask with a too-sweet voice and a well-practiced smile. You make an effort not to look in the direction you had been before Cody approached you, the direction of his sister, the one clone in the entire galaxy who's managed to catch your eye more than any other.

He takes a sip, hardly wincing at the sharp bite of the alcohol when it hits his throat. "She likes you, y'know."

And it's a good thing you're not allowed to drink on the job because if you had, you'd be spraying it all over Cody's chest plate now. "What?!" you sputter as you choke on your saliva. It hits you a second later to attempt plausible deniability, though you know that ship has long since sailed. "What, um, what are you... talking about?"

The laugh he gives you in response is enough to make your face burn. "She's one o' the good ones. And I don't say that lightly. Most of these troopers are di'kute." And he emphasizes this with a thumb tossed over his shoulder and a not-so-subtle roll of his eyes. But then he takes another drink, pushes himself off the bar, and nods politely at you as if he hadn't just uncovered your secret crush and brought the entire galaxy down atop your head at the same time. "See y' around, civvy."

You're a fool, and you know you shouldn't seek her out when her commander leaves, but you do it anyway. The purple, pink, and orange paint job makes it easy. She's as beautiful as ever, nursing her drink with something of a panicked glimmer in her eyes, but there's something more there, too. It's difficult to make out in the dim lighting that 79's provides, but you can see it better when she tilts her head and looks at you properly. You'd almost call it hope.

It's your job as a bartender to be aware of your surroundings. Fights break out easily when the building is packed full of boozed up soldiers and their dates. So of course you notice that one trooper in particular lingers this night. She stays long after her brothers and higher ranking officers have left, long after the main buzz sustaining the bar mellows into something much more tame and the night grows late.

You try not to think too much about it. Lots of troopers stay late, lots of troopers stay after their companions have gone. But this time is different because it's her and you want it to be different, you want it to mean something. And you don't even know her name. It would be laughable if it wasn't so pathetic.

So imagine your surprise when your shift ends and your replacement slips into place behind the bar, when you've grabbed your bag from the staff room and are about to head out, when the very trooper you've been thinking of the entire night approaches you. She's much taller up close than you'd first thought. Perhaps you'd assumed she'd be shorter than the others, seeing as human women are often shorter than human men in your experience. Or perhaps you'd never really thought too much about it. Either way, her height paired with the broad span of her shoulders and the way the lights catch her eyes when she smiles at you all leads you to the conclusion that you're done for already.

"Hello." She has a nice, rumbly voice that's a bit like Cody's, but different somehow. A smoky alto that makes your heart feel weird.

You swallow your nerves as you resettle the strap of your bag over your shoulder. "Hi." You're not normally this timid, at least not on the job, but she makes you feel so many things that you can hardly think.

She shifts on her feet a bit, one hand rubbing anxiously at the plastoid on her thigh. "My name's Sister. I saw you talking with the commander earlier. I'm sorry."

Whatever it was you'd been expecting, or hoping, to hear, none of that was on your list. Funnily enough, you're the most disappointed to hear her name. You've heard all sorts of names here - Charger, Atin, Tango, Tai - some are unique, some are shared, but you had been hoping that her name would be one of the more unique and interesting ones, something that would give you an idea of who she is. Something you might find yourself saying over and over again. But Sister... It makes sense. In this respect, you suppose it is one of the more unique ones, but it doesn't exactly lend itself to romantic notions.

By the time that thought has come and gone, you've managed to blink and the rest of her introduction has finally processed. "'Sorry'?" you echo. "For what?"

Sister manages a wrinkled smile. "He seems t' be under the impression that you fancy me. 's why he indulged himself in a refill."

And finally, it clicks. She's not interested. She's picked up on your lingering looks and generally amorous aura, most likely, and after a miscommunication with her commander, she's here to let you down easy.

You shake your head even as your eyes drop to Sister's shoulder. It's too embarrassing to hold her gaze anymore. "No, I'm sorry. I haven't been professional enough. You... you don't have to apologize for anything. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

Now, if she'll just let it go here, you can head back to your apartment and nurse your rejection with some comfort food and a holo.

"You didn't." And your head snaps up so quickly that it almost hurts. The expression she's wearing now is curious, confused. "I thought I'd made you uncomfortable. Some of the men like t' play matchmaker when they get an idea in their heads," she explains, "and this was one time I couldn't talk him out of it."

"So..."

You don't even dare to hope, but maybe...

"I don't suppose you'd be interested in goin' for a drink?"

She makes for a fierce and brave soldier, you're sure, but it's impossible in this moment not to see the tension in her brows and shoulders, the way her throat bobs when she swallows, the awkward bend of her legs. She's nervous, perhaps as nervous as you would be if you'd ever managed the courage to ask her out first.

"Is that what you want?" You'd hate for her to go to all this trouble just because of Cody. Because it would really hurt if that's all this is.

Sister smiles faintly, the inner corner of her brows turning up a bit as she considers you. There's a few seconds where she tilts her head down at you and the lights change behind her, and it's like she's haloed in hues of purple and orange. Kriff, she's gorgeous.

"Only if that's what you want."

You find yourself nodding without even a moment of hesitation or thought. And the whisper of a smile on the trooper's face blossoms into a grin. She offers you her arm and it feels only natural to take it.

May the gods, the Maker, and anyone else so inclined bless Jango Fett for getting himself cloned. You wonder sometimes if he was much of a romantic, or a flirt, if he was good with the ladies, the men, with anyone who wanted him, if he knew just what to say and do to make people trip all over themselves for him. Because Sister is amazing at it without even trying.

Any time she's on Coruscant, she takes you out, and every time you find yourself falling a little deeper for her. She's often quite serious and keeps many of her thoughts to herself, content to ask a few questions and listen to you ramble on, but it's charming the way she does it. Because she remembers. You'd mentioned that first night how you loved to take your kaf a certain way, and the very next date she took you to a (clone friendly) place on one of the middle levels and recited your order perfectly. She opens doors for you, walks on the street side of the duracrete when she can, and she has this way of smiling at you that makes your heartrate triple and your chest feel tight.

"Can I ask you something?"

She takes a bite of her food and nods, encouraging you with a gentle hum.

It's been on your mind a lot. Not because it bothers you, but because you're curious why she never chose something else. "Could I... I was wondering... Your name. Did you pick it?" You can think of a number of other descriptors that don't simply relay her familial status - considerate, polite, beautiful, smart, strong.

It's hard to read her expression now, but you notice that she goes a little tense. "It was given to me by my brothers. It was their way of showing they accepted me."

"Why wouldn't they accept you?"

Sister's mouth twitches into a frown. "The issue was never with them," she explains, "but those on Kamino who see difference as a weakness."

The idea itself is mind boggling. "There's nothing about you that's weak." It comes unbidden from the depths of your heart, the most genuine and unfiltered thing you've probably ever said to her. You have the decency to flush at your level of earnest honesty, but decide in the end to simply roll with it. "I think you're wonderful."

Whatever she'd been thinking or feeling upon your initial questioning, it seems to morph now into something dazzling that strikes you right between the ribs when she smiles at you. "Not that you're biased," she teases.

You shake your head with false seriousness. "Not at all."

Her hand finds yours, the first time the two of you have touched beyond the offering and taking of an arm, or the exchanging of goods over the counter at 79's.

"Why the sudden interest in my name?"

It's a well-meaning question with no malice or hidden agenda - it's upfront in the same way that she is, but it makes you cringe with embarrassment all the same. Because yes, the two of you have been dating. Yes, she knows you like her and you know she likes you. Yes, these moments you share are precious, but to verbalize your reasoning would be another step closer to making whatever this is between you real. And that's terrifying.

But if you've learned anything these past weeks, it's that you could never deny Sister anything. Certainly not when she catches your eye and looks at you like she's the most beautiful, handsome, wonderful woman in the galaxy. (Even though she is.)

"Promise you won't laugh?" She nods and squeezes your hand for good measure. "I just thought that... Well, doesn't your name get awkward when you see people? I mean, like, dating?"

"You don't like it?" she says after a moment, and her hand goes slack in yours.

"No! That's not it. I think it's lovely, especially coming from your brothers. I only meant that it might have been awkward in the past. If you were ever with someone and they said your name when you were intimate." Your mouth is moving far faster than you can coherently think, faster than you can filter your thoughts, and so it's all coming out and you're helpless to stop it because you have to explain yourself, you have to make sure she understands. You don't want her to think you don't like her all because you stuck your foot in your mouth like an idiot. "Or maybe that never came up. I don't know, I don't want to presume. I don't always say my partner's name when we're intimate. Not that I'm assuming we will be! I, I only meant... Well..."

You're left feeling stupid at the end of it. And speechless. And embarrassed. And horrified that you've just ruined the most wonderful thing to ever happen to you. You can't even look at her now.

All the noises of Coruscant's busy airlanes and buzzing market stalls and irritated pedestrians flood your senses as you close your eyes against your shame. There's a speeder backfiring a few roads over, it sounds like. Someone is arguing in Huttese at one of the stalls. And Sister is quiet when she takes your hand again, impossibly gentle and unsettlingly silent.

"I'm so sorry. I don't know what I was thinking."

"You weren't. Or you were thinking too much." But it's not said as an accusation. You peek one eye open, then the other, and are surprised to find Sister watching you with a bemused expression and a quirked eyebrow. "Been sitting on that one for long?"

You sputter wordlessly for several seconds before she puts you out of your misery.

"You're cute when you're flustered, cyar'ika." And she drops your hand in favor of cupping your chin beneath her thumb. It somehow manages to wipe your brain of all coherent thought. "Didn't know you thought about us being intimate so much."

It would be better for a rancor to swallow you whole than to endure another minute of this blissful, terrible, wonderful torture. You want her to let it go, but you also want her to stay exactly where she is and keep teasing you until your legs give out. You're not sure what that says about you.

"Tell you what," she continues once she realizes you've temporarily lost the ability to speak, "if we ever decide to be intimate, you can call me cyare. Yeah?"

Through some miracle of the Force, you're able to manipulate your tongue into functioning again. "What's that mean?"

Sister only smirks, the first true smirk she's ever given you and you're certain it'll stop your heart. But it softens a moment later. "Beloved," she murmurs, eyes lingering on the movement of your mouth as you lick your lips. She's still gently grasping your chin and you're still falling for her, hard and fast.

"I like that. I like you."

"Yeah?" There's a moment where you think she might kiss you, but she leans in and instead presses her nose to yours, then her forehead to your forehead, and all you feel is the warmth of her breath on your skin. "I like you, too, cyar'ika." She smells like spiced meat and kaf and some sort of muted cologne, but it's not like the kind you've caught a whiff of from her brothers. It's rich and sharp, but with a hint of something softer and sweeter, like citrus and jasmine.

"Can I kiss you?" you ask, and Sister huffs.

"Thought you'd never ask."

[fandom-friday]

PART 1 OF 2 (FICS ONLY)

Thank you so much to everyone that submitted recommendations this week! There was SO MUCH content, I have to split this week's summary into two parts! A comprehensive list of this week’s fic submissions can be found under the cut! Recommendations are organized by show/media, and any main pairings will be listed after the title.

✨ = 18+ content 🪐 = contains spoilers of a currently running show

Fics:

The Clone Wars: ✨ Rooftop Reunion (Commander Fox x f!Reader) by @wings-and-beskar ✨ Sweet True Lies (Commander Fox x OC Keeda Ionza) by @sleepingsun501 I Fits I Sits (Captain Rex x OC Mira) by @kimiheartblade Cyare (Clone Trooper Sister x f!Reader) by @imarvelatthestars It Happened Quiet by @mercurydancer An Unexpected Chance by @mercurydancer For This Republic I Will Bleed by @captora

The Bad Batch: ✨Stars Beyond Number (Echo x Riyo Chuchi, Gregor x OC Cerra Kilian) by @dystopicjumpsuit ✨ Exigency (Captain Howzer x f!Reader) by @the-rain-on-kamino 🪐 (TBB S3) She Walks in Starlight (Clone Trooper Sister x f!Reader) by @imarvelatthestars A Dead Traitor is a Good Traitor by @hellowkatey 🪐 (TBB S3) Revelation by RheaShay (AO3)

The Book of Boba Fett: ✨ Golden (Garsa Fwip x Fennec Shand) by @btwxsixesandsevens

Star Wars Prequel Trilogy: Shattered Sunrise (Mace Windu x OC Danica Morrow) by @pickleprickle Sahuldeem by @inonibird Agwe by @jedi-valjean

Batman: Home Is Where the Heart Is by LittleLadybugs (AO3) The Lone Ranger Never Had To Deal With Bruce Wayne by @theskeptileptic Your Hands Are To Loud by BatFamily_shenanigans (AO3) Have We Met Before? by @lulurythmea Soft Robin, Sleepy Robin, Little Ball of Trauma by @iselsis Surprise by Racoonwriter (AO3) Patty Cake, Patty Cake, My Brother Ran Away by That_Hippie_Chick (AO3) Play it Again by @jazz020 The Cold (My Burning Promise) by BlueKappa (AO3) Brotherly Wisdom by @olivia-anderson-fanfic Late by breathingsentences (AO3) Not Him by @animemangasoul

Hetalia: Axis Powers: A Matter of Time by @cultureandseptember A Matter of Course by @cultureandseptember TELL ME A PIECE OF YOUR HISTORY by @cultureandseptember

Crossover AUs: Tanjiro & Kagome: A Taishō-Heisei Friendship (Demon Slayer X InuYasha Crossover) by Splashpointparabox (AO3) Life Anew (Batman X Detroit: Become Human Crossover) by BrickSheep (AO3) Steer Yourself (Any Direction You Choose) (The Clone Wars X The Murderbot Diaries Crossover) by antonomasia09 (AO3) The Five Tenets That Mandalorians Must Follow (and the One Thing Worth Breaking Them For) (The Mandalorian X The Murderbot Diaries Crossover) by @urisarang

[knightprincess]

Scars (Commander Wolffe x Jedi Reader) - Prologue

Words: 1.1k Synopsis: Time doesn't heal all wounds, sometimes, there's too much hurt, too much pain to forget. Sometimes, scars are left behind. Scars that remind us the past is real. Everyone knows Love is the death of Duty. Pronouns Used: She/Her - (Y/N) also used Also On: Wattpad, Quotev, AO3 and Inkitt

The Clone Wars were a cruel, tragic, and devastating event that affected countless lives. Many lost their homes, their loved ones, their faith, and even their lives. Both the Clones and the Jedi fought and sacrificed selflessly in a war that they didn't choose to be a part of. They did everything they could to protect strangers across the galaxy, who would never even bother to learn their names or show any gratitude for their heroic actions. During the war, both the Clones and the Jedi faced many restrictions. The Clones were not allowed to enjoy even the simplest of pleasures and were treated as nothing more than mere products instead of the brave soldiers they truly were. They had fewer rights than even the convicts in the Republic prisons. The Jedi, on the other hand, were bound by their code, prohibiting them from forming any human attachments or loving anyone. They were not allowed to express basic human emotions for fear of falling to the dark side.

Despite that, though, love still somehow flourished. Clones managed to find a semblance of peace away from the battlefield in the arms of another, even if it was only for a few short hours. If they were lucky, it lasted longer. The Jedi found solace in the arms of the troopers they fought side by side with on the never-ending rotation of merciless battlefields and warzones. 

Most Clones and Jedi, in some sort of relationship, had a tendency to keep them secret, if only to avoid the scrutiny of their peers and the judgment of those who would so quickly look down upon them for wanting the simple pleasures of life. Most, if not all, of them, hid their devotion out of fear of what would happen if discovered. None of them wanted to imagine the horrors that awaited. Nor the idea of being ripped away from each other for the simple crime of wanting to love someone, of wanting to be loved, of wanting to feel more than being a warrior meant to die on the battlefield. A prisoner without chains. 

CC-3636 was one of the most respected Clone Commanders, gifted with a strategic mind and brothers he could count on for anything. Preferring to be called Wolffe, he was looked upon as a role model by many cadets. Close with his Jedi General Plo Koon, but haunted by the traumas of the war, scared even to get close to someone outside those apart of the famed Wolf pack, for fear he would lose them. He feared the Malevolence nightmare repeating with others he let himself care for. Despite that, he cares deeply for his brothers and respects Plo above all others. Many times, Wolffe had been faced with a cruel decision, forced to choose between the lives of his brothers; every time, he'd save as many as he could and never forgot the names of those he lost. 

After losing his eye to Ventress, he gained a new coldness, especially to the children of Dathamir. Although he'd admit they were few and far between, it didn't prevent his distrust in them. His distrust tainted even the purest of intentions, making him suspicious of even the gentlest acts of kindness. 

One of the most known Jedi Generals was (Y/N) Black, commonly referred to as a Princess General by many clones or simply Princess by several of her fellow Jedi. She was Dathomirian, a Night Sister similar to Asajj Ventress. Strong in the force with a talent for breaking or bending the rules, a friend to everyone, and one of the biggest supporters of Clone Rights. As a General, she was battle-tested, clever, and always had plans and backups in case anything went wrong. If one of her bright ideas was risky, the only life in danger was her own. She trusted her men, respected them, and valued their lives above her own. There was never a time when she'd called a trooper by their identification number. Instead, she called them by their chosen names, friends, or, in some cases, affection nicknames in various languages.

Everything had been selectively normal or as close to normal as the war could get. (Y/N) had returned to Coruscant with her legion 916th Battalion. Their last assignment to the outer rim had been a particularly nasty one, even more so upon the discovery that the republic information had been detrimentally wrong. The locals had been caught in the crossfire, many injured and killed, and in the end, they were forced to retreat, the droid reinforcements being too much for one lone Jedi and batallion to handle. 

Although (Y/N) hated admitting defeat with a passion, she did what was best for her troopers; once again, she had put them before the often pointless and corrupt demands of the Jedi Council and Senate. Upon returning to Coruscant, she wished her troopers a fond farewell before leaving for the Temple, mourning the loss of those who hadn't made it and wishing a speedy recovery for those who had been injured. As usual, she gave her normal line of "Stay out of trouble." 

As per usual (Y/N)'s arrival at the temple was expected. As soon as she entered the city-sized structure, she was swept to the communications center to be debriefed and hounded with questions that only served to wear down her already thin patients further, as well as question the overall intelligence of the council members interrogating her. Despite her desire to speak her mind, she kept her snide comments and obvious frustrations to herself, at least until she made it back to the safety of her quarters, where she could release her pent-up anger and frustration in privacy. Or that would have been the plan had she not been informed of a request by Master Plo. He asked for her assistance in the mid-rim. 

"I will inform my troopers," commented (Y/N), already feeling down about having to spoil the well-earned shore leave break.

"Not your men, Black, just you," quickly corrected Mace Windu, seeing her uncertainty; no doubt she still remembered what happened the last time another took control of her boys. The inexperienced Jedi knight had become lousy with the power and all but played god with the trooper's lives, cost so much all because he refused to listen to the advice of Trip, the clone captain who served as (Y/N)'s second. 

"I will leave on the marrow," replied (Y/N) before leaving to return to her quarters, exhaustion seemingly jumping her the moment she passed the threshold, her mind turning lousy too, as if it was already in shutdown mode to prepare her for the horrors that waited for her. Upon completing her normal routine, she soon got comfortable, drifting off slowly, at least before the intruding thoughts began to bug her. 

Working with her Master again would bring its own challenges. With Master Plo came Commander Wolffe, the battle-worn trooper with a known hatred of her kind. As (Y/N) tried to drift off, her thoughts turned to the struggles both would face. She was used to being judged with fear by strangers. She was used to being called a witch even when she wasn't one. But being hated because of the actions of another wasn't something she was used to; it was a challenge in and of itself, as would be working with the commander in question. After all, in his mind, she was no different than Ventress; she was the enemy, too. 

Series Masterlist

[thegreymarveljedi]

You’ve Got a Nice Ass

(Obi-wan x Reader)

This is a funny little story I found in my drafts from another fandom and thought, why the hell not. Obi-wan is hot and I like him so sue me (please don’t I’m broke).

This is something just really fun and kinda flirty so I hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: playful teasing, clones being funny, a little bit of hurt/comfort, reader is slightly insecure, obi-wan being a teddy bear, love confessions, friends to lovers, ass slapping (very mild), fluffff

Words: 3.5K

—————

I was sitting in the mess hall of the Resolute with my tray of food, a book in hand while soldiers came in and out of the mess. Most were sat at tables talking and joking with one another as they always did which always put a smile on my face. Obi-wan, Anakin, Rex, Cody and Ahsoka were sat with me at a table speaking amongst themselves before a certain conversation seemed to catch all our attention.

"I'm saying master Yoda could totally kick general Windu’s ass in a fight!" Waxer argued, his voice carrying from where he sat at the table next to us.

"Are you kidding? General Windu would woup Master Yoda’s ass," Boil defended, argued back, a few of the 212th and 501st boys taking sides and placing bets on who they think would win.

“I’m with Waxer, my credits are on Master Yoda.”

“Well then you’re wrong Vod cause I think General Windu would win.”

“How am I wrong when that’s your opinion Hardacse?”

“Because Boil is right and therefore that makes me right too cause I agree with him.”

“That’s not how that works you di’kut!”

"Alright men. I think this argument as well as this bet have gone a little too far already,” Obi-wan chimed in over the sounds of the boys yapping at each other. He was so calm and level head but still kept a smile on his face which made me swoon slightly. He carried such a power with him and that made even most compose of people squirm. I loved it when Obi-wan was like this. He was serious like a warrior at times but at others he was a cute, cuddly and fluffy teddy bear that you just wanted to squeeze.

At the sound of their general’s the boys immediately quieted down, looking to Obi-was with a sincerity apology as they went back to eating their food and conversing about a different topic.

I had liked Obi-wan for a long time now, being Anakin’s older sister, I went with him when Master Qui-gon found Anakin. I had stuck by my brother as well as Obi-wan when the council had refused to train us. I was there when master Yoda changed his mind and I was there when Anakin and I were officially made padawans.

I’ve stuck by them both since the beginning, helping Obi-wan to understand how to teach Anakin and well as how to navigate things with two of us. I tried my best to make his life easy and I like to think that it has worked well. Ever since becoming a knight around the age of 24, I’ve always hoped that Obi-wan would see me in a different light, even if I used to be his student. I’ve been by his side through everything and I would always admire from afar because deep down, I knew I would never have a chance with someone as amazing as him. He followed the code to a T and would break it especially for someone like me.

"Yes sir, sorry general," Boil said apologetically, turning back to his tray of food as snickers could be heard around them.

"Let's just say that they could both kick some major butt,” Waxer said and his brother smiled at him as they gave a highfive, a few of the other boys asking for their credits back now that the bets were off.

However, Waxer and Boil refused, saying that those credits were bet fair and square in a legitimate bet. There were more groans of protest and more arguing before food was thrown in Boils face, the 212th trooper looking shocked as all eyes turned to Fives.

“Oh god, here we go,” Rex said as he face palmed, glaring daggers at Fives who had a triumphant look on his face before it was wiped away as he was tackled to the ground.

"Well-" Obi-wan said as he stood up from the table and stretched, his muscles flexing and making my mouth water from behind my book, "-I'm gonna go the training room for a bit." I watched him walk toward the door and out, turning down the left hallway towards the training rooms, my eyes following until the door closed behind him.

“Fives! Enough, you di’kut!”

“Give me back my money!”

“It was better fair and square!”

“Was not! General Kenobi called the bet therefore it is void.”

“You just don’t want to loose.”

“Enough!”

I let out a sigh and slumped into my seat, my book falling from my hand as I silently watched Rex and Cody break up the brawl that was currently happening.

"You ok (Y/N/N)?" Anakin asked as he and Ahsoka finished snickering at the clones and their fighting.

"Ya just.....thinking," I said and tilted my head back, staring at the ceiling. My mind was swirling with thoughts that I shouldn’t be thinking, feelings that were against the Jedi code. I sighed again as I leaned my head down and rested it against the table, my try of food long finished and pushed to the side.

"About Obi-wan?" Anakin sing-songed. He was the only one who knew about my crush on Obi-wan besides Padme because she was my other best friend and sister-in-law. I could never hide anything from her.

"W-what!? N-no!" I said defensively.

"Ok then suit yourself," he said and continued to watch Cody and Rex scold their men as if they were children.

Ahsoka turned to me with a small smile and took my hand, knowing that Anakin could be a little too teasing when it came to certain things. She was a good fit as his padawan, keeping him in line and grounded when Padme or I couldn’t.

“I’ve heard master Kenobi say things about you too you know,” she said and winked, peeking over as Rex escorted, Fives, Jesse and Hardcase out the door, Cody doing the same with Waxer, Boil and Longshot.

“Like what?” I said wearily but curiously, my emotions getting the best of me. I wanted to know because deep down I thought that maybe, just maybe, I had a shot.

“I’ve heard him talk about how determined you are and how kind you are. I’ve heard him talk about how much he admires your courage and bravery,” Ahsoka sat and wiggled her eyes, her markings moving with her eyes.

“I’ve heard things too you know,” Anakin chimed in, his full attention now back on the conversation that Ahsoka and I were having. I blushed and hid my face behind my hand, this kind of topic not one I was used to talking about in such an open space where anyone could be listening.

That was the moment that Rex and Cody came back to the mess hall, coming to sit back down at our table.

“What have you heard?” I said quizzically, trying my hardest not to show my emotions on my face, but Anakin could read me like book.

“That he liked you baaackk,” Anakin said in a singsong voice again. I reached over and smacked him somewhat playfully, it wanting him to say it out loud.

“Oh are we talking about General Kenobi’s giant crush on you?” Cody said and smirked at me, going back to eating his food as if he hadn’t just said something that big. My face went redder than the Tatooine suns at night, my body wanting nothing more than to sink down under the table and disappear.

“Yes we are,” Anakin said triumphantly, looking at me with a shit eating grin.

“Oh it’s bad. He talk as about you all the time general. Even when he thinks no one is around, he talks about how amazing you are and I can hear him scolding himself about having those thoughts. And then the next second he talking to me about how he can’t help it,” Cody spilled, seemingly feeling no shame for airing Obi-wan’s feelings.

"Really?" I asked dumbfounded, looking between Anakin, Ahsoka, Cody and even Rex who was nodding his head along with Cody.

"Yes really. You should go talk to him and tell him how you feel. I promise you he feels the same,” Cody said with a smirk, one that made me question if they were bullshitting me. I took a moment to process all that they had said, looking at the faces around the table. Ahsoka was the one to do it for me, he smile genuine and eyes shining with nothing but truth.

I smiled at her and thanked the group, standing up and taking my tray to the cleaning station before making my way out of the mess, my mission? Tell Obi-wan how I feel.

~Time Skip~

I made my way to the training room, thinking of how I could tell Obi-wan my feelings without making things awkward. I was still weary of everything the others had said, especially Cody. I wanted to believe them but what if they were secretly wrong? What if he was still in love with Satine or if he was sticking by code and willing to report me to the Jedi high council for having such feelings.

My heart sank as I thought about it, uncertainty swimming in my heart as I played the different scenarios over and over again in my head. I stopped in my tracks as I reached the training room, my resolve crumbling and my heart beginning to break.

What if he doesn’t love me the way I love him? What if this is all a joke and I’m being made a fool of?

My mind began to race a million miles a minute, so many things happening internally that I also chickened out. It took me a few moment to calm my mind, making it up just to get it over with and if Obi-wan didn’t feel the same, I would find a way to live that. I would find a way to be okay.

When I got to the sliding doors of the training room, I found them already open, the locking mechanism initiated so that they stayed opened. Obi-wan was stood there, a blind fold over his eyes and his top layer of robes discarded, his under shirt and training pants all that he was wearing. Even through the undershirt, his back muscles were very defined and detailed, his body looking as if it had been sculpted with delicate hands.

His training pants left a little less to the imagination, the material tight against his body but stretchy enough that it moved with him. His legs were very muscular, years of training and hard labour giving him very powerful looking legs. But what what drew my attention most, as weird as it is to say, was his ass. The material of his training pants left little for me to imagine, the globes of his ass looking very defined and round, ass plump and bouncing ever so slightly as he moved around the training mat.

'He's got a nice butt.' I thought to myself, keeping my distance as I watched him train with his saber.

I saw Obi-wan’s head whip around, the blindfold being lifted as he stared at me wide eyed and that's when I realized I said it out loud. My eyes filled with horror at the realization, my body rapidly filling with fear.

"W-what?" He asked bewildered, looking at me with slight embarrassment as he pulled the blindfold completely off his head.

I stood as straight as a board and turned right around, practically running out of the room while trying to control the blush on my face and the growing nose bleed I had. I could hear Obi-wan calling out to me but I ran as fast as I could to my quarters on the other side of the ship. I could feel tears welling in my eyes at the sheer unbridled embarrassment I felt, knowing that I had fucked up my chances royally.

~Time Skip~

After making it back to my quarters and cleaning up my bloody nose, I fell onto my bed, letting my face hit my pillow. I screamed into my pillow letting out all my embarrassment and emotions. Tears welled in my eyes again as I thought about just how much I had fucked up. The ridiculous idea to tell the man I love that I had a crush on him was just that, a ridiculous idea. Like a terribly made fairy tale where the girl doesn’t live happily ever after.

I sighed and flipped over onto my back, holding my pillow and string at the ceiling. I did my best to wipe my tears but more and more kept coming, my heart breaking with every passing moment.

"What was I thinking? Of course he doesn't like me like that. How fucking cliche to think he could see me as more than a colleague. How stupid to think they were telling the truth," I mumbled to myself, my palms digging into my eyes as I muttered to myself about how stupid I was.

"I don’t think that’s the kind of language you should be using when speaking about yourself my darling," I heard and bolted up, throwing my pillow full force towards the source voice. I heard a chuckle and looked up towards the door to see Obi-wan standing there, freshly showered and wearing actual clothes, my pillow hanging in midair.

"H-How long...." I got managed to get out before Obi-wan stepped fully into my room, placing the pillow gently on the end of my bed as the door slid closed. I moved myself backward to the head of my bed, wanting to put as much distance between myself and Obi-wan as I could.

"Long enough to hear you call yourself cliche and other words that I don’t think are representative of you in the slightest," He said, sitting on the edge of my bed. Ge picked up the pillow and used the force to slowly bring it back over to me, as if knowing I was terrified for this encounter. I took the pillow in my hands and rested it on my knees, bringing my knees up to me chest and burying my face in the pillow again.

"(Y/N), look at me," he said, moving closer and placing a hand on my knee. I turned just enough out of my pillow so he could see my left eye, bloodshot and tears still seeming to gather in my waterline.

"I'm not mad darling. And I don't think any less or different of you if that's what you're thinking," Obi-wan said and I turned my head a bit more to see his face better. He gave me one of his award winning smiles and I gave him a small smile back, still feeling the lingering embarrassment.

Obi-wan moved even closer to me, slowly and gently pulling the pillow from my arms. He placed it down next to me at the head of the bed before gently taking my hands in his. My eyes were still downcast, refusing to fully meet Obi-wan’s gaze even as he tried to look into my eyes.

“Darling look at me, please?” He said and lifted his fingers to tilt my chin up. I did so willingly, letting him use his thumb and pointer finger to lift my chin up. I looked into his eyes, trying to find any hint of discomfort or disappointment but there was nothing but understanding and what seemed to be…adoration?

He looked me in the eye before his eyes flickered to my lips, the movement quick but noticeable. I gulped down what air I could, my hands shaking with anxiety. He said nothing for another few moments, just looking at me with an adorable smile and keeping my head up and eyes on him.

“You’re very beautiful you know that right?” He spoke softly and I blinked, not expecting such praise to leave his lips. I blushed and tried to time my head away but Obi-wan kept a firm grip on my chin, his hold still gentle.

“Say it.”

“Say what?”

“That you’re beautiful.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s the truth.”

“But-“

“Say it,” he said, moving his hand from my chin to my cheek, hold it there and stroking his thumb along my cheekbone. My eyes remained glued to him, still not believing what he was saying to me or what he was asking me to do.

“(Y/N) say it.”

“I-I’m be-beautiful,” I whisper, my voice cracking as I spoke those words. I knew deep down that I was attractive, but speaking those words especially in front of Obi-wan after such an embarrassing moment felt wrong.

“Say it again.”

“I-I’m beautiful,” I spoke again, this time my voice a little louder but still slightly shaky.

“You’re extremely beautiful. You know I would never lie to you,” Obi-wan spoke again, his tone teasing only slightly. That got a laugh out me as I smiled, nuzzling into his hand and bringing mine up to hold his on my cheek. He smiled and leaned in to me slowly, giving me time to pull away if I wanted to. Instead, I leaned as well, matching his intentions as he kissed me softly and with so much love I could've melted.

My eyes closed and I leaned more into it, starting to feel more comfortable with what was happening. I smiled into the kiss before breaking away, making a bold move and wrapping my arms around Obi-wan’s neck. He laughed a hearty laugh and wrapped his arms around my waist, holding me to him. The position was a little awkward for us but at that moment I didn’t really care, just content to be in his arms finally.

Obi-wan smiled and pulled me into his lap, winking at me before kissing my nose. I giggled and returned the kiss before burying my face in his neck again, just breathing in his natural scent of birch wood and earl grey tea. He did the same, cradling my head to his neck and rubbing his other hand up and down my back.

"I love you (Y/N). I have admired your determination and courage since I met you. Your loyalty to your brother and how eager you were to learn,” Obi-wan confessed, pulling away from our embrace ever so slightly and held my hips, gently massaging circles into them.

I smiled and leaned in to kiss him again, smiling as he chased my lips when I pulled away, “I love you too Obi. You’ve always been there for me through everything, even when you didn’t have to be," I said shyly. He lifted his hand and tucked a stray piece of hair behind my ear, holding my cheek again once he did so.

“I will always be there for you my Dear, even if the council doesn’t approve. I will fight for you, for us,” he said lovingly and I smiled, tackling him to the bed and giving him a big hug. He laughed and held me as we almost rolled off the bed, moving to adjust us so we were lying down properly against the pillows.

We smiled at one another before he sat us up, helping me stand up and holding my hand as we walked to the door.

"Where are we going?" I asked as we made our way out into one of the halls of the Resolute.

"Well, now that you and I are an item, I must at least treat you to a miniature adventure before we can go on a real date,” He said and sent me a wink. I blushed and laughed before letting go of his hand and stopping.

He turned back to me with a look of confusion on his face before I laughed and ran up to him, giving his ass a good slap before I tried to run away. He yelped in surprise at the contact, reaching out and grabbing my waist before I could get away.

I laughed again as he spun me around, only stopping when we both began to get dizzy. I smiled as he turned me in his arms to face him, leaning down to place a soft kiss to my lips again. I smiled again and leaned into him, allowing our lips to move together in sync. When we pulled away, I gave his ass another little pat, smirking as he rolled his eyes at me.

"That is a nice ass," I said. He looked at me and smirked before rolling his eyes again and throwing me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

We both laughed as he carried me through the halls of the ship, doing our best to avoid people with me still over his shoulder. I wasn't complaining though,

I had the perfect view of that gorgeous ass.

—————

I do think Obi-wan has a great ass, change my mind.

[starryevermore]

you’d come back to me ✧ anakin skywalker

angst city™ library | send in a request (consult request faqs first)

request: You're Padmes little sister and some of the clones start to take a liking to you and this enrages anakin for some reason???? He realizes oh shit, I like padmes little sister not padme 🤯 - @captainsbestgal​

pairing: anakin skywalker x fem!naberrie!medic!reader

summary: anakin skywalker is in love with padmé amidala. he has been for years now. but, then why does her sister vex him so? surely he’s not pining after the wrong one… right? 

word count: 5,929

warnings?: anakin and padmé are not married, idiots in love, jealousy, mutual pining, not proofread

While you were grateful for the Naberrie family taking you in, considering you a daughter of their own while sharing no blood relation to them, in a lot of ways, you often felt like a complete outsider. You looked to your family and you felt your accomplishments paled in comparison—especially when one of your sisters was Padmé, the former Queen and now Senator for Naboo. You were accomplished, sure, in your own field. Not everyone was able to serve as a medic for the Grand Republic Army, and certainly not everyone got to serve as a medic for the 501st. But you weren’t so foolish to think that your name was one that would go down in history. You were not the kind of person that would be remembered for years after your death. You were not the type of woman who would leave behind some grand legacy. When people remembered your family, you might only be a footnote. And you had long since been content with that. 

You loved your work, after all. For as long as you could remember, you wanted to help people. You supposed part of that came from how the Naberrie family helped you. You remembered being scared, being helpless, and how they comforted you, made you feel at home, made you feel at peace. If you could offer that same sort of comfort to others, why shouldn’t you? 

But, with that being said, there were some moments in your line of work that made you want to smash your head into the wall. You loved the 501st, but you weren’t sure if it was just the nature of the boys or if it was something that Anakin, their General, encouraged, but it seemed like they just didn’t know how to stay out of trouble. So, when you saw that you were going to be dealing with a potentially concussed ARC Trooper first thing when you started your shift, you already knew that it was going to be a long day. 

Fives was laying on one of the beds, clutching his head, whining to Echo about how much his head hurt. Oh, of course it was Fives. Of all the clones in the 501st, he seemed to be the most keen on getting into trouble. Sometimes, you wondered if he found trouble just so that he would have an excuse to talk to you. And, it almost seemed like you were right, when you made your presence known. 

As you walked up to the bed, you greeted the clones. “Good morning, Fives, Echo. Heard someone got into a fight with a cliff and lost.”

“Doc! You’re here!” Fives said, giving you a dopey sort of look. You fought the urge to laugh, knowing that would only spur him on more. “Was thinkin’ you were standin’ me up!”

You looked to Echo, who was holding his brother down, stopping him from jumping out of the bed. “Just how hard did he hit his head?”

“Hard enough to know I’ve fallen for you,” Fives slurred. He tried to sit up again, but Echo pressed down on his chest, stopping the movement. 

Echo shook his head at his brother. “Fives forgot his jetpack, so General Skywalker used the Force, but he miscalculated how far to throw him.”

“Sounds like I’m going to have to have a talk with General Skywalker,” you said, a scowl forming on your face. “That’s not the first time he’s done this. I can’t keep letting him hurt my boys.”

“Hear that, Echo? I’m her boy!” Fives crowed. He pushed away his brother’s hands, sitting up, letting out a groan as he moved. But that didn’t stop him for reaching for your hands, tugging you close to him. It took you by surprise, so you didn’t have time to pull away, convince him to lie back down. “When we’re in Coruscant again, do you wanna go to 79’s with me? My treat?”

“I was speaking about all of your brothers, Fives. All of you are my boys,” you corrected. 

His shoulders deflated. “Oh.” But then, he perked back up, his eyes once more filled with joy. “Well, they’ll all be there, too! It’ll still be my treat and all but—” 

“Doc? Did Fives make it down here alright? I sent him this way the second we got back from the mission, but you know how he likes to wander off—” Anakin’s words died in his throat as he saw that Fives was holding onto your hands, looking at you like you hung all the stars in the sky. “Ah, well, seems like I had nothing to worry about.”

You dropped Fives’s hands, turning towards the General, your hands coming to rest on your hips. “You’re gonna have something to worry about if you don’t stop putting my boys in unnecessary danger. Isn’t it bad enough that they’re having to fight in a war? Do you really need to be using the Force to throw them against cliffs?”

Anakin’s face burned red. He looked away, avoiding your gaze. It was curious, the way the usually confident man could not look at you, much like he was a child being scolded. “That was an accident. And, besides, Fives is fine—”

“We don’t know that, yet. I haven’t started his examination. And, even if he is fine, that doesn’t mean he will be the next time, or whichever clone you decide to use as a crash test dummy. They’re people, Anakin. Treat them like it.”

Behind you, Fives leaned over to Echo, whisper-shouting, “Is it just me or does she get even hotter when she’s scolding people?”

“Shh, don’t make her scold us next!”

“Honestly, I wouldn’t mind if she did. She can talk to me anyway she wants and I’ll fu—”

“Fives!” you snapped, looking at him and shaking your head. His mouth immediately shut and he dragged his fingers across his lips, mimicking a zipping motion, punctuating his silent statement with a wink. Letting out a sigh, you turned back to Anakin. “Be more considerate to them, okay? I know tensions are always high on the battlefield, that you might not be able to think everything through fully, but please always try to keep their safety in mind when you’re about to do something reckless. Promise me that, Ani. They may be soldiers, but they’re people to. Their lives matter.”

Anakin stared at you, a strange look in his eyes. If you were paying close enough attention, you might have said it was the same look that Fives had in his eyes when he looked at you. But you weren’t paying that kind of attention, because you were waiting for his answer and not analyzing his micro-expressions. “I promise.”

“Good. Thank you. Now get outta here, I got a soldier to patch up.”

He gave a curt nod, turning to walk out of the medbay. For a moment, you felt bad, an odd sort of sinking feeling settling in your chest. Had you been a little too harsh? It wasn’t often that you were out there, in active combat. Kix, as a clone medic, was the one who was out there. He took care of all of that. So you didn’t have the best frame of reference of the stress that Anakin might be under out there. Still, though, he should know better. Of all people, you would think he would empathize most with the clones. 

But, as you turned back to your patient, Fives was grabbing at your hands again, looking at you like you were an angel that just dropped straight down from Heaven, as he asked, “So is that a yes? You’ll come to 79’s with me?”

You sighed, knowing he wouldn’t drop it. You knew how stubborn the man could be. If you kept avoiding the question, he would keep asking, stopping you from properly treating him. You couldn’t do your job unless you told him you would go. Besides, it might be fun. You deserved a break, too, didn’t you? “Sure, Fives. I’ll go.”

If you were looking his way, you would have noticed how Anakin paused in his step, the way his fists clenched at his side. But, you weren’t, so you didn’t know. 

Anakin had never felt this way before. So conflicted, so confused, so hurt. Why? Why did he feel this way? Was it you? No, it couldn’t be. You were doing your job. You were tending to a patient. He had seen you do the very same perhaps a thousand times before. There was nothing different about seeing you today. But then…Why did his heart stop when he saw Fives holding your hands? Why did his heart sink when you agreed to go to 79’s with Fives? Perhaps…No. No. That was impossible. 

His heart laid with Padmé, he was sure of it. Since the first time he saw her on Tatooine, he had dreamed of her face. She had always been so kind to him. As he trained at the Jedi Temple, he hoped that there might come a day when he would see her again. Years later, he did. And, oh, he felt just the same then as he did when he was a boy. She was his soulmate. She had to be. 

So why did it feel like his heart had been beating for you ever since you joined his battalion? 

His comm beeped, pulling him from his thoughts. It was Padmé. Ever since they had reunited a few years ago, they had been in semi-regular contact. It was difficult, of course, given him fighting in the war and her serving as Senator for Naboo. But they always found time for each other. Yet, for a fleeting moment, he considered ignoring her comm. 

He didn’t. He ducked into his room, making sure the door was locked, before answering. “Padmé,” he said. Usually, he felt lighter, happier, when he got to see her face. This time, he only felt a shroud of jealousy and insecurity cloaking him. “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you.”

She smiled. Anakin always loved her smile. He thought it made her angelic appearance become even more heavenly. But now, he found himself comparing it to yours. They were both beautiful, to be sure. But Anakin found himself more drawn to your smile. Why? What had you done to vex him this way? 

“I heard you were going to be arriving on Coruscant soon,” she said.

Anakin nodded. The boys were well due for leave. They needed a break. Though, Anakin thought bitterly, they didn’t deserve a break if they were going to use it to attempt to charm you. To Padmé, he said, “We’ll be arriving within the day.”

“I wish I could see you,” she said. Her smile faded ever so slightly. “I have to go on a diplomatic mission in a few hours. If you would like, you can stay at my apartment. I might be back before you have to leave again.”

He shrugged. Normally, he would love the offer. It made him feel like she trusted him, like perhaps she liked him as much as he liked her. It felt different, this time. Like he would be committing some sort of betrayal. “I think I’ll stay at the Temple. I’m going to take a page out of Obi-Wan’s book and attempt to meditate.”

Padmé’s smile fully faded. She was always so good at reading him. Anakin often wondered if she was the slightest bit Force-sensitive. Or perhaps he was more of an open book than he realized. “Is something wrong? Is something troubling you?”

Anakin looked away. He wanted to say. If it was anyone else, Anakin would have no trouble telling Padmé. But it was you. Padmé’s sister. How awkward would that be? Not to mention, it could ruin anything that Anakin may have with her. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from asking, “Do you know if your sister is seeing anyone?”

Padmé stared at him, her brows raised. Kriff. That hadn’t come out right, had it?

“I just mean, some of the boys were…I don’t know. I don’t know if I’m reading too much into things, but it felt like one of them might be interested with her.” 

She still stared. Did he need to elaborate more? 

“I just was thinking that, if she was seeing one of them, I should probably have a talk with the trooper. You know, make sure they know they can’t use her or break her heart or anything like that. She doesn’t deserve that. She’s too good to be treated like that.”

Padmé hummed but said nothing. Anakin almost felt like a child again, when he had done something his mother explicitly told him not to do. He would try to hide the evidence, try to fabricate some story to explain the mess he had made. But his mother always knew. She always saw right through him. Padmé, Anakin mused, was a lot like his mother in that way. But he was grown now, and he knew that he couldn’t keep babbling on about a story that they both knew to be false. He had to pivot, had to redirect. Maybe then, the heat would be off him. 

Anakin looked away, then back again. He asked, “Do you know? If she’s seeing anyone?”

“As far as I am aware, no, she’s not,” Padmé said. Anakin knew Padmé well enough to know that there was more she wanted to say, and she was never the kind of person to hold her tongue. “You don’t have to lie to me, Ani. If there’s something more there, something beyond concern for her heart, you can tell me.”

“There’s—” The words couldn’t form. Anakin wanted to deny Padmé’s accusation. (Right?) But the words soured on his tongue. It felt wrong, to say there was nothing there. To be sure, Anakin wasn’t sure what was there. But to say there was nothing would be untrue. He couldn’t lie to Padmé. Instead, he said, “She only deserves the best.”

Padmé smiled at Anakin like she knew something he didn’t. “You are one of my closest friends, Ani. If there was anyone who I could trust with my sister’s heart, it would be you. If you choose to follow her, you would have my full support.”

She was gone before Anakin could even think of a protest. 

Dread settled in the pit of Anakin’s stomach as they arrived on Coruscant. The 501st, previously wore out from the stress of battle, had been rejuvenated at the prospect of well-deserved leisure, pleasure. When he passed some of the troopers, Anakin feigned excitement for them, though he felt anything but. All he could think of was Padmé’s words, of you agreeing to go to 79’s with Fives, of how he couldn’t figure out what this emotion was he was feeling every time he thought of your face. 

But rather than returning to the Jedi Temple, as he told Padmé he would do, he found himself lingering, waiting to see you. Perhaps he could convince you not to go. Perhaps he could make up some task that you need to complete immediately, something that would prevent you from going out to 79’s. Would that be cruel of him? Sure. But was it not more cruel to let your heart be broken by someone you might one day lose to this war?

Anakin wandered the halls, trying to figure out what he should do. He tried to think about what Obi-Wan would say. He was sure his Master would talk about how the Jedi Code does not allow attachments, that Anakin should leave you be and let you do what you please. That Anakin should return to the Temple, that he should meditate, that he should remember that pursuing you would be allowed so long as he remained a Jedi. (What was the point, then, of being a Jedi if Anakin would be denied your love?) 

Finally, Anakin decided he would leave you be. This was a fluke, he decided. The result of being away from Padmé for so long, of you being the closest thing he had to her on a day-to-day basis. There was no reason to bother you about this.

But, as he turned to return to the Temple, or perhaps to go to Padmé’s apartment, he saw you walking down the hall, the click-clack of your heels on the tile signaling him toward your presence. Against his better judgment, the judgment that told him he should try to place some distance between you and him, Anakin turned toward you. 

Kriff. 

He shouldn’t have done that. 

You wore a dark, shimmery dress that left little to the imagination. The dress had a plunging neckline, directing Anakin’s gaze down to your cleavage. He swallowed hard, tried to look again, tried to show you basic respect. But as he looked away, his gaze trailed down your legs. Maker, had you always been so beautiful? Had you always looked like a goddess among men? 

“Anakin!” you greeted. You smiled at him. He found it hard to look away from your painted lips. (What would it look like if it was smudged? What if he was the one to smudge it?) “I thought you would have left my now.”

He raised a brow. “Trying to get rid of me, Doc?”

Your eyes widened. “What? No! I-I just, you know…You have important Jedi duties. I-I thought you’d be back at the Temple already.”

He did. He really should have left a long time ago. Undoubtedly, the Council would have some sort of assignment for him to do while he was back on Coruscant. There was no benefit to remaining here. Except, of course, to see you, but you didn’t need to know that. 

“Are you on your way to the boys’ barracks?” he asked. He couldn’t find a way to explain himself, so redirecting the conversation was the way to go. 

“I—yes. How did you know?“

“I heard you tell Fives you’d go to 79’s with him,” Anakin said. He extended his arm for you to take. “C’mon. I’ll walk you over there, make sure you’re in safe hands.”

Though, he didn’t know if he should classify his hands as safe. Nevertheless, you held onto his bicep as you and him walked down the hall to the troopers’ barracks. It was quiet, the walk was. Anakin wasn’t sure if he liked that. He preferred listening to you talk. 

“You should come with us,” you said as you approached the barracks. “I-I don’t know if there’s some Jedi ban on going to bars—”

Anakin barked out a laugh. “—we’re allowed to have fun, Doc! It’s not all meditation and contemplation and boring things.”

“—I didn’t know! You all are so unlike everyone else. I didn’t want to make you feel pressured to break your Code!” you defended. You looked away. Anakin could feel your anxiety. He almost felt bad, laughing at you like that. “Anyways, I just wanted to say you should join us. If you’d like to, I mean. I-I know this war hasn’t been easy on anyone, and you deserve to have some fun as much as the boys.”

“Oh, I shouldn’—”

The Force did not seem to be with him. Just as Anakin was going to politely turn you down, they reached the barracks, the clones already barreling out, seemingly in search of you. Anakin’s words died in his throat as you were ripped away from him, Hardcase pulling you into a hug. Anakin’s jaw clenched. He didn’t like it, seeing another man touch you. But what could he do? He didn’t like you like that. If you were Padmé, it would have been different. Anakin would have had no problem making it clear that that sort of thing wasn’t going to happen. But you weren’t Padmé, so no matter what he felt, he had no right to step in on your fun.

“Move out of the way, she’s only going because I asked her—” Fives said, stealing you away from Hardcase. Anakin’s fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. “—which means she’s my date!”

“Oh, stop, I’m no one’s date!” you laughed. 

Fives pulled away, gasping, his hand on his chest, right over his heart. He turned to Echo, throwing his arms around his brother, dramatically crying on his shoulder.

Anakin thought the display was over and was ready to leave, sure that you were in safe hands, when he saw Rex approach you. 

The blond clone threw his arms around you, squeezing you tight, lifting you off the ground. “Can’t believe Fives finally wore you down, cyar’ika,” he said. He pressed a kiss to the side of your head. Anakin tried to stamp down the ugly green feeling washing over him. “Glad he did, though. I’ve been—We’ve all been looking forward to more time with you.”

Et tu, Rex? Of all the clones, Anakin would have thought that the Captain would have some restraint. But even the usually reserved man—at least, in comparison to his brothers—fell victim to your charms. If you could break down even Rex, were you really in safe hands? 

Jesse was the first of the clones to notice that Anakin was there. He titled his head, brows furrowed together, and asked, “General? What are you doing here? Did you have a job for us?”

“Oh, he was just walking me over!” you said. You turned around to Anakin, smiling. Maker, did you have to have such a beautiful smile? “I was just asking if he wanted to come along with us.” Your smile dropped slightly as you looked back at the boys. “If that’s alright with you guys, of course, too. I don’t want any toes to be stepped on.”

“Don’t dance with Fives, then,” Echo said. 

“Hey!”

“You don’t have to worry about stepping on toes,” Rex told you. “I think I speak for everyone when I say that General Skywalker can join us if he likes.” Rex glanced at Anakin. “No pressure, sir.”

Before Anakin could try to sort through whether he wanted to go or not, Jesse had slung an arm around your shoulders, tugging you close into his side. His head dipped, asking, “How’re you still single, mesh’la? With as sweet as you are, anyone here would be more than happy to make you theirs.”

You caught Anakin’s eyes. There was something…sad in your gaze. Anakin felt the need to reach out, to comfort you. But you were already looking away, looking back at Jesse. “I could never be with the one I care for. I could never ask him to betray his duties.”

Right. Of course. You could never ask one of the clones to betray the Republic. The clones had a duty to fight in this war. To do anything else, to contemplate a life outside of the war, would be treasonous. The clone would likely be decommissioned, you would likely be thrown in jail, if such a relationship ever was to become known. You were too good of a person to ever consider pursuing such a relationship. 

Fives threw his arm around your shoulders, knocking Jesse’s off. Jesse glared at his brother, but Fives ignored him. “Oh, c’mon, you’re worth more than duty and responsibility. If you asked, any one of us would leave all this behind.”

Anakin would, too. It was interesting. He hadn’t really ever wanted to leave the Order for Padmé. With her, he always thought he’d try to make it work. Try to be a Jedi and be a husband and not allow the two to become too overlapped. But with you…He found himself willing to throw it all away. 

Fives cast Anakin a look, his face paling, as if he just remembered he was in the presence of a superior officer. “Hypothetically, sir.”

Anakin looked to you, the way you chewed on your lip as you stared back at him. “Hypothetically,” Anakin said, “I would say you’re special enough that even a Jedi would be willing to break the Code.”

Your mouth fell open into a perfect “O”. Anakin pushed away the thought of what it might feel like to kiss you, to slip his tongue into your mouth, to hold you close, and—No. Stop that. 

“I do need to return to the Temple, though,” Anakin said. “Have fun, and stay out of trouble, Doc.”

“She’ll be in good hands, sir,” Rex said. 

Anakin wasn’t sure if there were any good hands you could be in besides his, but he held his tongue. He offered you a tight smile before turning to leave. He ignored the wave of sadness that washed over you. He couldn’t comfort you. It was not his right, and he didn’t want to give you the wrong impression. Besides, he was tired. He needed to get to bed. 

He didn’t sleep that night. 

Anakin Skywalker was avoiding you, and you couldn’t figure out why. Ever since that night you went to 79’s with the boys, he had made clear and purposeful attempts to stay as far away from you as he could manage. You couldn’t deny how much that hurt you. You thought…Well, when you saw him that night, for a fleeting moment, you thought he might like you.

It was a ridiculous thought, to be sure. Jedi didn’t do attachments. What greater attachment was there than being a relationship with somebody? Even if Anakin said that you were the kind of woman a Jedi would break the Code for, that didn’t mean he liked you enough to break the Code. It didn’t mean he was speaking of his personal feelings for you. It could have meant anything. It could have meant nothing. For all you knew, he could have been trying to assure Fives that he hadn’t spoken out of turn, not conveying a secret message to you. 

But then, why would he not look at you? Why would he not talk to you? Why did he send Rex and Jesse to tell you that you’d be joining them on the battlefield instead of telling you himself? He always liked talking to you before, always found a reason to see you. After all, did he really need to come to the medbay and check in on every injured trooper when he knew you were perfectly capable of healing them? Did he need offer to escort you when the opportunity presented itself? Did he need to make you feel so special and so ordinary all at the same time? 

Worse, when you tried to talk to Padmé about it, all she said was to let Anakin be for the time being. That he was sorting through something and that he needed space. Which would have been fine, if it wasn’t for the way Padmé looked like she knew something you didn’t. Maker, why couldn’t she just tell you? Why did she choose now to be cryptic and vague? Sure, Anakin was one of her closest friends, but you were her sister! Did that mean nothing? 

You were pulled from your thoughts as you watched a trooper fall. You ran to him, firing a few shots at droids who stood in your way. When you reached the soldier, you fell to your knees, searching for the wound. 

“We gotta stop meeting like this, Doc,” he mumbled. 

You paused for a moment, examining the armor of the trooper. Oh, of course. Of course it would have to be Fives. How he managed to become an ARC Trooper when he always stumbled head first into danger, you would never understand. 

“Well, that would mean you would have to stop having two left feet and falling straight into the line of fire,” you said, finally finding the blaster wound. With one hand, you began to apply pressure, using your free hand to open your medkit, searching for what you needed. “Your brothers should have called you Lefty instead of Fives. Would’ve been far more appropriate.”

“You have terrible bedside manner. You wound me,” Fives said. 

“No, that was the droid.”

Fives huffed out a laugh, then groaned, clutching at his ribs. “Kriff, don’t make me laugh, mesh’la.”

You hummed. You just finished patching the blaster wound, so you turned to the ribs. They didn’t appear to be broken, which was good. You didn’t have the time nor the supplies to be setting broken bones. “Looks like you bruised your ribs. I don’t got anything to treat that, but Kix should. I’ll send him over, okay? Just sit tight.”

“Am I gonna live, Doc?”

“You’d better,” you said. You leaned down, pressed a kiss to his helmet. “You’re my best friend, Fives. Who else is gonna annoy me if I lose you?”

“Echo’d do a pretty good job at it, I think.”

“Wouldn’t be the same. I’m gonna get Kix now. Don’t do anything stupid.”

As you rose back to your feet, you looked around, trying to mind the clone medic. As you searched across the battlefield, you found Anakin first. There was something beautiful in the way he fought, you realized. You shook your head. You needed to focus. You didn’t need to ogle over the General—especially not in the middle of the battle. 

But, Maker, it was so hard to find Kix. Couldn’t they have have given him a bigger symbol than the little one they put on his arm? With everyone moving around, it was hard to tell who was who. All of the paint on their armor was beginning to look the same. Couldn’t they have painted a big red symbol of Kix’s back or something? (Of course, that would make him a bigger target to the enemies. If he was easier to see, he was easier to kill. And if the medic went down…Well, it was easier to take out a battalion. But never mind that! You needed to find him for Fives, and it was impossibly difficult in these circumstances.)

“Doc, get down—”

There wasn’t enough time to react. By the time you saw the blaster being fired your way, you couldn’t have gotten down. It struck you in the side, right where you didn’t have any armor to protect you. You heard a scream—was it yours? Maybe Fives was screaming. It wasn’t a non-possibility.

You fell with a thump! as your head hit the ground and it all went black. 

When you opened your eyes again, you were under the bright, fluorescent lights of the medbay. Somewhere, there was shouting. Who was shouting? Couldn’t they step out into the hall? It was hardly good for the patients if someone was yelling. Healing required rest, and it was difficult to rest when someone couldn���t shut up for five minutes. 

You tried to sit up, groaning as you did, to tell the person off. Instantly, the shouting ceased. Kix was on one side of you, Anakin on the other. At the foot of the bed you lied in stood Fives, who looked like he just got the scolding of a lifetime. You looked at Kix, who seemed just as sheepish, then at Anakin. You could practically feel the anger rolling off hm. 

Perhaps you should have held your tongue, but you had gone over medbay etiquette with him a thousand times. For him to disregard it the second you were out? It felt disrespectful. You said, “You know you shouldn’t shout in the medbay.”

Anakin ground his teeth together. “And you know you should be mindful of what’s going on on the battlefield.”

Your brows furrowed together. “I was.”

“Oh? And that’s why you're here now? Because you were so mindful?”

“People get injured out there all the time. I wouldn't have a job here if they didn’t. Things happen, Ani. I’m fine.” You paused, then looked to Kix. “I am fine, right?”

“As fine as you can be given the circumstances,” he said. “Should be up and running by morning.” He glanced at Anakin then back to you. “Assuming that you’re allowed to rest instead of being chastised.”

“Watch it,” Anakin snarled. 

You sat up more, another groan escaping. Kix was quick to help you find a more comfortable position. Once settled, you said, “Don’t yell at him for something I did. And, kriff, don’t yell at me for trying to my job!”

“Oh, so your job is to just stand there, out in the open, unprotected!?” Anakin snapped. 

“I was trying to find Kix—”

“So you just stood there?! To find someone, you use your eyes! You don’t just become a karking target!”

“Kind of hard to find the other medic when he’s wearing the same armor as everyone else—”

“That’s why he has a medic symbol! It’s bright kriffing red! How the kark could you miss it?!”

Kix stepped in, raising his hands slightly, as if ready to push Anakin away if he got too angry. Anakin snarled at the medic. You were almost certain they were about to fight over your bed when—

“Sir, if I may—” Fives cleared his throat. “—it’s probably best that you go. Let the Doc heal before you reprimand her.”

Anakin turned on the ARC Trooper, his eyes flashing with…something. “Right, because you care so much about her—”

“I’m the one who helped her after she was shot, sir.”

“And you’re the reason she’s injured! If you hadn’t—”

“Get out.”

Anakin’s head whipped back around toward you. His gaze softened ever so slightly. “What?”

“I don’t want you here right now, and protocol is that the patient can have anyone be ordered to leave their room while they’re healing, even if that person is their superior officer. So, go. Come back when you’ve cooled down and we can talk about what happened. But you have no right to come in here and yell at me like I’m so petulant child when all I did was my job. I might have made a mistake, sure, but you can’t tell me that you’ve never made a mistake out there.”

Anakin stared for a moment, two, before saying in a softer voice, “I was worried about you. I care about you.”

“How much could you care when you’ve ignored me for weeks?”

Anakin blinked, slowly, then nodded. He turned to leave without another word. But, as he reached the door, Anakin turned back to you. He was too far away for you to read his expression. But there was something in the way he held himself, the way his shoulders slumped, the way he couldn’t quite stand still, that told you he was carrying a heavy burden on his shoulders. What was it? Could you do anything to help ease it? 

“I don’t like it when you’re out there, Doc,” he said. “I don’t know if it’ll be the last time I see you. I don’t know if you’ll come back to me. You’re not trained for battle. Anything could happen.”

“There’s more important things to be worried about than a single medic,” you said. 

“Not to me.” Anakin looked away, then back again. “I meant what I said the other day. You’re more special than you think.”

What he said? Was he talking about that night you went to 79’s? That was the last time you’d really spoken to him until now. But what had he said? Maker, you wished your head didn’t hurt. You wished Anakin wouldn’t speak in riddles. Oh! Wait, had it been something about leaving the Order? But, why would he…

Oh. 

Oh.

“I could never ask that of you, Ani,” you said, “no matter how much I would like to.”

“You don’t have to ask. I would do it anyways.”

And maybe the worst part was, you knew he was telling you the truth.