#clone trooper slick x reader

[vodika-vibes]

A Bad Actress

Summary: When Slick gets a mission to kill something on a planet seven systems away, he’s happy to do it. His baby is less happy, but as ever, she doesn’t complain. But when he comes face to face with a Succubus to steals his baby’s face, Slick starts to realize that, just maybe, his baby is more important to him than he thought.

Pairing: Clone Trooper Slick x F!reader

Word Count: 2028

Warnings: Smut, Slick is an unrepentant pervert

A/N: So I said that I was going to write this tomorrow, but I had an idea that had me in a choke-hold. So, ta-dah. Have the first of, likely many, Slick stories. Also, I tried writing this on LibreOffice, and I might be switching to that permanently for my writing processor. I haven't decided yet.

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It’s a little past midnight when the comm call comes through.

The chime loud enough that baby stirs in bed next to him, a tiny whine slipping from her lips as she tries to bury her face in his neck. Slick scowls at the small device, slowly stroking her back to try and soothe her back to sleep.

But, as her eyes flutter open, Slick releases a sigh. “Sorry, baby.” he murmurs, smoothly tugging her body so that she’s stretched across him like a human weighted blanket.

“S’alright,” He feels her nuzzle against his chest, and he smirks before kissing the top of her head, “Who’s messaging you so late?”

“Good question,” He drapes his arm around her shoulders, and uses his free hand to grab his comm. The message is simple, in the same way that all of the messages that give him missions are simple.

A target name. A location. A time frame to get it done in.

Though this mission is a little different than most of his other missions, as there’s a secondary note at the bottom on the message.

Extermination mission. Target has killed seven Hunters to date. Proceed with caution.

“Slick?”

He glances down at the woman sprawled across his chest, shifting his head so that he’s able to properly look down at her naked body. Soft skin, tantalizing curves, a hint of a tattoo on the small of her back from her wayward teenage years.

Her tits are soft against his chest, and she’s still sticky from their earlier activities.

Fuck, she’s perfect.

He slowly drags his gaze back to her face, pleased to see embarrassment crossing her face from his slow appraisal of her body, “You’re fucking perfect, baby~”

“How are you already aroused again?” She asks, though that doesn’t stop her from shifting her body so that she’s straddling him and rubbing her pretty pussy against his already hard cock.

“You’re fault, you’re just too fucking hot,” Slick trails off as he tightly grips her hips to offer her support as she slides down his cock with a pretty moan, a moan he’s considering making her ringtone.

She’s wet and hot and if he were to die here, he would die a happy man. Slick tightens his grip around her hips and thrusts up into her, making her release a whimper and press her hands against his chest, “My job,”

“Oh, so sorry, Princess.” He counters with a laugh, as he allows his hands to fall from her hips and settle behind his head, “It’s your show, baby.”

Slick watches as she smooths her hands across his chest and slowly rides him, affection welling inside him. She’s so bossy this late at night, she’s perfect.

“Who—” She trails off with a moan as she shifts her hips just enough that his cock is brushing against that spot inside her that tends to make her squirt all over him, but she regains control of herself surprisingly quickly, “Who commed?”

A slow smirk crosses his face, “Jealous, baby?”

“Not supposed to talk to your whores when you’re with me,” Oh, that’s a pout.

“Got a job, baby. Not another girl.”

Her pout deepens, “You just got here—”

Slick chuckles, and effortlessly flips her under him, “Pouty baby’s get bent in half,” He reminds her as he tosses her legs over his shoulders and punctuates his sentence with a hard thrust that pulls a loud cry of pleasure from her lips.

“B-but Slick—” She’s unable to finish as she arches up against him, “More,”

“Your wish is my command, baby.”

This, in Slick’s opinion, is the best way to end his stay with his baby. Buried in her pussy with her screaming his name.

Several days later, Slick finds himself staring up at the stone castle where his target is supposed to be. He didn’t even know that people still made stone castles anymore, but based on the way ivy is growing up the side, and the holes he can see in the roof in some places, he’s starting to think that this place is a lot older than records indicate.

This bitch he’s hunting had better be as dangerous as he was warned, or he’s going to find his handler and put a bullet in his head.

Pulling him away from his Baby so soon after getting to see her again is a damned crime.

Slick pushes thoughts of his baby to the back of his mind, and crosses the stone bridge to the half-rotted wooden door. He doesn’t even have to shoulder the door open, as there’s a massive gap he can step through.

The inside is in even worse condition than the outside. Crumbling walls, broken windows, rotten wooden pillars—

Behind his helmet, Slick’s nose scrunches in distaste.

He doesn’t miss much about Kamino, but he does miss how clean it was.

Carefully, he heads deeper into the castle, and his scowl deepens. The place is just too big, there are too many places to hide. This hunt might be more dangerous than he originally thought.

And he already thought that this hunt was going to suck.

His target is a succubus. A type of parasite that feasts on sapient beings. They all have the ability to shape-shift as well as read the minds of their intended targets. As he understands, they use their mind-reading to learn about their latest victim, and then the shape-shifting to turn into someone they won’t fight back against.

Luckily, Slick doesn’t have anyone like that.

At least that’s one weakness the creature won’t be able to take advantage of.

Slick looks around the entrance hall a moment longer, and then turns to head towards the stairs. There are too many openings on the ground floor, if he wanted to trap someone, he’d use one of the rooms on the second or third floor.

It’s only a little later, that things start to get weird.

He steps off the stairs onto the second floor, and he hears a soft giggle. “And so another fly willing lands on my web,” The voice is light and pretty for all that the words immediately shove him into fight or flight mode.

“Where are you?”

There’s another giggle, the voice changing into something different, something familiar, “Just at the end of the hall. Won’t you come to me?” His stomach lurches when the voice shifts into his baby’s voice.

Fuck.

A door at the end of the hall creaks open, and Slick has never, ever, seen anything scream “trap” more than this, but he has a job to finish so he can go back to baby.

So he steels himself and grips his pistol, then stalks into the room at the end of the hall.

The plan is simple, go in, shoot her, and collect the paycheck so he can take baby to that five star restaurant that she’s been gushing about for the last month.

But, as he turns around the door, he falters.

Lounging on a large bed, surrounded in blood red silks, is his baby. Or, to be more specific, the succubus disguised to look like his baby.

The way her hair hangs around her shoulders in a tangled mess, the way her eyes glitter like gems when the light hits them just right. The slope of her tits, the soft swell of her hips, the curve of her stomach, the meticulous way his baby keeps her pussy neat—

The bitch even copied the three freckles his baby has on her collar bone.

And yet—

His eyes narrow at the copy of his baby sprawled on the bed.

The copy releases a pleased moan that sounds exactly like his baby in the middle of being fucked senseless.

The way she’s holding herself, the way she’s touching herself, is so unlike his baby that he can’t help but to scoff. As if his baby would ever do anything as bold as touch herself in front of him without asking permission.

“And here I thought you were supposed to be good at this.”

“but baby—” The copy is whining at him.

Slick’s scowl deepens under his helmet, his baby would never. She might pout, she might sulk, but she would never whine. Well, not unless he was buried inside her and teasing her.

He lifts his pistol, “That’s not going to work.”

But, even as he says that, his pistol wavers. She’s not his baby, but she looks like his baby.

No wonder so many people died trying to take her down.

She laughs, a sharp noise that his baby would never be able to produce, “You can’t even aim at me properly. This is why men are so weak—” The copy brushes her hair off her face, “Still this one is relatively pretty.” She turns away from him to admire herself in the mirror, “Perhaps, after I kill you, I’ll kill her and take her place—”

“I think the fuck not.” Her comment about becoming a threat to his baby is enough for him to get over whatever mental block he had about pointing his pistol at the copy.

He squeezes the trigger twice.

The copy falls to the ground, her blood spattered up against the mirror.

Slick shoots her three more times, just to be sure.

And, for a moment, the succubus retains his baby’s form. For a moment, it feels like he’s standing over his baby’s body.

But then her form ripples, and turns into something barely humanoid. Slick grimaces and then he crouches and pulls the pendant from around the copy’s neck, as proof of kill, and he turns to leave the room.

He’s not even halfway down the hall, before he’s dialing a comm code that he knows as well as his own, and waiting for the call to connect in his helmet.

A heavy weight lifts from his shoulders when his baby answers on the first ring, “Slick?”

“Hey baby, what are you up to?”

“Oh! I’m preparing for Mona’s baby shower! I’m helping hang the streamers,” She says cheerfully.

“Yeah? Sounds like fun.”

“Mm, not really. You know how I am about heights.”

Slick chuckles, “Then why are you doing it?”

“Well! Someone has to do it! And Mona’s my best friend.”

“I thought I was your best friend.”

She giggles, a sound that soothes away the last of the bad feeling he’s sad since he first saw the copy, “Don’t be silly. You’re my Slick. That’s better.”

“Ah, so I’m yours now, am I?”

“Mm. Didn’t you know?”

“Why don’t you tell me more about how I’m yours, baby?”

Another giggle falls from her, “After the baby shower, Slick. Tonight, maybe?”

“It’s a date.” A tiny smile lifts his lips, “Wear that pretty bodysuit I bought you last week. The green one.”

“You’re a pervert.”

“And yet, you’re still gonna wear it. So who’s the real pervert here?”

“Still you,” She replies with a laugh, “I’ll talk to you in a couple of hours, yeah?”

“Yeah. Talk to you then.”

At some point, Slick knows that he needs to sit and actually think about why the Copy thought that using his baby would be enough to stop him. About why the copy was right, that using his baby did make him hesitate until she threatened her.

But that will be a problem for later. For now, he wants to go back to his ship, take a shower, and wait for his baby to call him, while he directs the ship to return to her home planet.

He’s already thinking about how she’ll run into his arms and wrap her arms and legs around him, while kissing him.

And, yeah, maybe he’s a filthy pervert, but when she’s so eager to see him, he wants nothing more than to have her naked and under him. Or over him. Or beside him.

A sly smile crosses his lips as he steps onto his ship. Maybe, if he plays his cards right, he can get her to use her toys for him when she calls him. It’s not quite the same, but it’s a decent start.

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[yandere-wishes]

The lack of content for this man is criminal!! Thank you so much for writing this amazing piece 💜💞💜💞

Sergeant Slick x Jedi Reader

Clone-Tober Day 12

Prompts: Character - Slick |  Word - Grub  Link to OP Post HERE | OP Blog Link HERE @/threetinyshinies

——————– Sergeant Slick x Gender Neutral Jedi Reader  ——————–

After another long mission with the 212th you sit down to relax, using a crate as a temporary seat. Hearing some footsteps behind you, sitting up and looking over to see Sergeant Slick coming towards you. “Hello Sergeant,” you said standing up to greet him.  "General!“ He said saluting you. "Is there something you need?” You asked.  "I was wondering if you would like to get some grub? I was heading to the messhall and saw you so I thought I’d ask.“ "Oh, I’d love too, I need a break anyway.” You start walking as he follows you - walking by your side. - After picking out your grub and sat down in a corner of the relatively empty messhall you two begin to talk. “So what do the Jedi do when they aren’t on these missions, or what did you do before the war? All I’ve known is war…and I never learned much of the Jedi.”  "Before the war, we mostly worked as keepers of the peace, we would guard important people or explore parts of the galaxy to find things or any remaining Sith.“ "What are the Sith exactly?”  "The Sith are either fallen Jedi or force users who were corrupted by the Darkside, people who embrace evil and disruption. There’s only ever two at a time, about a decade ago one was found and killed by General Kenobi, but the problem is that he either had a Master or he was the Master.“ "Don’t Ventress and Dooku count as Sith, couldn’t one of them be it?”  "Yes and no, Ventress is a mere tool for Dooku, and though Dooku may seem like a Sith some feel he’s just fallen from his path. Many don’t believe he could do evil since he’d been a Jedi for so long and he acts more as a political figure in all of this.“ "That sounds troubling.”  "Very much so, but for the moment this war has taken most of our attention, many feel the Sith are behind a lot of this, but we’re not sure and a lot of our foresight has been clouded.“ "Why don’t you guys focus on the Sith? If you’re keepers of the peace the battlefield seems like the last place you should be, let alone commanding entire armies.”

“I will admit we aren’t trained for leading armies, most of us aren’t even trained for this kind of lightsaber combat, but there is a disturbance in the peace and if we must join the war to stop it then we must do that.” “But by the sound of it, the Sith who are your enemies are wandering free as we speak and nothing is being done to stop them since your attention is on a war, a war you’re not qualified to even fight in or should fight in.” Perplexed by the soldier’s words you hesitated in responding, while you agreed with a lot of what he was saying you also couldn’t shy away from the fact that you were a Jedi and you knew the order was doing the right thing. They only wanted the best for the galaxy and even if that met sacrificing some of their people, time and resources it was for a better future. “I’m sorry I spoke out of line…I shouldn’t say those things.” He said realizing everything he just said, his own brothers didn’t care much when he spoke about these things, instead they blindly followed the Jedi, but he felt he knew better, that he was meant for something else besides dying in a war he cared nothing about. All he wanted was someone to listen to his concerns, someone to talk to, someone to help him understand, and maybe find him and his brothers a better life. - Even though he hated the Separatist because he was taught too and because they killed his brothers he really deep down didn’t hate them, because he didn’t know them. They could be just like him, fighting for their brothers, for their homes, and here comes the Republic and the so-called keepers of the peace, taking over their planet for the greater good, killing those that resisted for what, what was all this for? “No it’s alright trooper, I wish I had the answers, I wish I knew more, but I don’t, the Jedi aren’t infallible, we’re just like you, except for the force abilities and all the orders rules. But we’re creatures with feelings and concerns and doubt. Maybe one day we’ll find out the meaning to all of this, until then we continue down the only path left for us.” “Why not make your own path, your own destiny instead of following in something you’re unsure of?”  "Because it’s the only way.“ "It doesn’t’ have to be.” “Well Slick, I think you have a more creative mind than most Jedi, I wish I had it too.”  "I feel like you all limit yourselves, that’s what us clones were taught too, I’m sure your Jedi order is no different.“ "Maybe…” - You stare down at your empty tray, getting up to put it away, he gets up to follow you, walking with you out of the messhall, wanting to say something more, but he didn’t know what to say.

As both of you leave the messhall you turn to walk to the right, saying goodbye to him with a small smile, he didn’t respond instead he looked down at the ground, turning to walk to the left, feeling like yet again he was being left behind. Stopping as he walked away from you to turn around, now really wanting to say something else, but the words just weren’t there, and neither was the courage…

He hoped you’d turn around, to see him, see his struggles, feel it in the force, maybe the both of you could find those answers together, but instead, you followed the path you thought was the only one, the right one.…leaving him behind to find his own, without you…

[professional-yearner]

Sorry for the spam but how do we feel about a yandere!Slick? Boy has no loyalty to the Republic but maybe his programming still wants him to be loyal to something. Or *someone.* Assuming he could escape Republic prison or wherever he was shipped off to.

OR maybe the transport ship carrying him to prison crashes on some forsaken planet and someone nurses him back to health as a sole survivor??

Sorry for dumping I just have all these ideas right now but who knows when I'll ever get around to writing them.

Never apologize for bringing me the nectar of life itself. Yandere!Slick my beloved ❤️

I believe that even BEFORE his official first act of rebellion against the republic, if you were in his corner or even just a caring person in his life, he would be head over heels.

The moment he's taken into custody, he's panicking. Not for thoughts of his own safety even, but how on Hoth is he going to get back to you now? How is he going to keep his precious cyar’ika safe if he's decommissioned?! No, he needs out and he needs out now.

How he finds a way out I could see writing about another time, but for now, let's just say he's successful!

The moment Slick shows up to your apartment again, you're hit with flood of emotions.

"Angel..."

From what you've been told, he's killed his brothers, helped the sith, thrown his own family under the bus for maker's-sake... but can you blame him?

He's been groomed from birth to be the perfect super-soldier, a paradigm of discipline and deadly force. Trained unforgivingly and broken down into a desperate shell.

So, though conflicted, you embrace him. Ushering him inside before anyone can see him, you close the door behind you.

You draw your eyes up to him, tears of confusion and relief brimming in your eyes.

You can only manage to choke out a pathetic, "Slick-" before he's practically crashing into you, lips on yours more passionately than you would have thought possible for a man you had only known as a friend up to now. (And you had thought about it.)

You had harbored something of a crush on your radical friend for a while now. If your mind wasn't so numb from shock you would be slightly annoyed he hadn't done this before becoming an enemy of the state.

You wrap your arms around his neck, if anything to steady yourself as the kiss becomes bruising. Pushing him away with some effort, you take a gasp.

"Slick, what-"

"Marry me, cyare."

You nearly pass out at that, having to steady yourself in his arms.

You think that maybe he's trying to make light of the situation, but he's dead serious.

Obviously you turn him down, this is insane! First you're committing acts of terror, now you're asking me to marry you?!

Poor, naive cyare...

He wasn't asking.

[echoedcrosshairs]

Another Life / Dogma ~ Soul Mate AU

Summary: Dogma has always been completely loyal to the republic and to his training. His soulmate is very loyal to her ward, vowing to reject him just so whoever he is won’t distract her for her duty. Even without the bond both of you dip your toes into each other; you were made for each other all however Fate has a funny way of working itself out in the end.

Warning: Scars, Battle, Wounds, NSFW, Smut, PiV, 18+, cannon typical violence, medical incidents

Word count: 11.2k

Masterlist

Dogma's eye pulsed like it was trying to leap from the socket, he tapped into the link letting the eye show him your surroundings where you were. She's here... On Coruscant at the 79's. He closed the link, stopping mid step and placing his foot down. I know what I have to do, For the Republic.

"What is it Dogma?" Tup said noticing his brothers abrupt halt on the way back to the barracks.

"My soulmate... She's here."

Your friend had dragged you out to the overly loud clone bar to see her mate for a little while you both were on world, you hated the fact that you were dragged here but you were her loyalist guard and nothing ever got past you. You followed her to the back of the bar to the small side room inspecting it for anything before allowing her to go in with the privacy of her mate.  Your eye started burning like someone had lit explosives under it.

"What is it?" She said quickly stepping out of the room.

"My mate... He's here... and coming," you gritted out, "Please remain in that room for the next hour, their is a bathroom," the pain in your eye started letting up, "I will lock the both of you inside until the pain is over."

"You don't have to do that for me," she complained.

"Your highness, my duty is to protect you. I promised you when we were kids if he ever came I would do what needed to be done to make sure nothing interfered. Now I must insist you go enjoy yours," you said winking at the trooper waiting for her, you heard her sigh but knew your mind was made up.

You closed the door and took your military grade lock and bolted the door shut, remaining firmly infront of the door with your hands folded together in waiting. You're eye pulsed and you grabbed your eye noticing the two soldiers walking in, one gripping his eye two. You let go of it and opened it seeing him stare at you and you at him. You felt the tug towards him, wanting to touch him and know him but you harden yourself against it.

"He's going to reject you," his friend blurted out.

"I was going to do the same," you said sticking out your hand offering your name taking in the perfect jawline, eyes and beautiful V face tattoo.

"Dogma," he said taking the hand, shaking it feeling the familiar roughness of a soldier. She's made for me, his mind screamed.

"I have a duty to my planet, I hope you forgive me. Dogma, I reject you as my soul mate."

"And I reject you due to my loyalty to the Republic."

Everything in you broke, you read about what happens when you reject a soul mate link but nothing prepared you for the pain ripping through you. Your bones felt like they were breaking, shattering and ricocheting around your body. You fell back and stumbled full weight back into the door.

You heard Melissa calling your name is some faint corner of the breaking world, "It's just pain," you gritted out, "I'll survive."

Tup grabbed onto Dogma seeing a similar reaction, he watch the abnormal color of his soul link eye fade back into clone brown also seeing the color recede from your eye. Both eyes finally matching in color. He scowled shaking his head without getting a chance to meet her, he knew they were cosmically perfect for each other. Loyal, head strong and determined.

Your vision kept fading out but the sweet release of unconsciousness never came leaving you reeling in pain and hollowness, leaving a hole of nothingness. People often fell apart of their rejection succumbing to the permanent depths of depressions or having their mind break apart leaving them hollow shells. I will never falter in my duty. You forced yourself to stand infront of the door knowing there was still what seemed like endless minutes of agony left. You stretched both your arms out to the arch of the door using it to hold yourself up.

"I told you she was a fighter," Dogma gridded out, having Tup pull him up.

"And a hell of a lot stronger then you."

"He's plenty strong," you got out the pain finally starting to subside. You rested the back of your head on the door staring him. If he was meant for me he's plenty strong. In another life, I could have loved you and gotten to know how perfect you are for me. Your heart kept breaking with every passing thought feeling the sparks of the bond start to dwindle and the pain in your start to steady pulse in pain.

"Are you going to be okay?" Tup asked, "I can go grab a medic-"

"Do me a favor, just watch out for him for me. I'll be fine," you said your arms dropping to your sides.

Tup nodded, "I'm going to get him to med bay, it's standard protocol."

You nodded, "Goodbye, Dogma," you watched them retreat from the bar ignoring all of the eyes on you. I wonder if I'll ever see you again in another life.

Fate made it her mission to through but in your face every day that you terminated your bond, in took one week from that day for the war to reach your planet and the soldiers to deploy and you had to miserably see him in everyone of his brothers. The Princess tried to be more discreet with her mate but you told her you were fine even if felt like you were dead inside, hollow. I hope your keeping an eye on him. Several months after that defending the princess from a separatist assassin you took a vibroknife to the face in the same place as his tattoo. The king and the republic without haste paid for new cybernetic eye in thanks of your service.

Months after that the Princess had pulled you aside telling your the troops were switching out and that he was coming. She wanted you slump into the wall, your handing going to the scar that now permanently indented you and reminded you of him everyday you looked in the mirror. She knew you covered your mirrors and even switched out the showering stall to remove the reflection of the glass.

You pulled your hand away, "Is your mate joining? He is a kind soldier," you said turning the focus away from yourself.

"Father is actually paying for his release, he will be joining us... permanently."

"I look forward to protecting both of you."

"How you feeling Dogma?" Tup asked sitting in the empty bunk next to him, finding him yet again laying down staring at the ceiling. Between every assignment he's like this, broken, focuses on the mission but refusing to head to shore time so I'm left here babysitting him.

"You saw where we're heading next," he breathed, "We're heading straight to the capital... where she is."

"You're not mates anymore, Dogma. You have to pick yourself up at some point."

Dogma sat up and stared at him, "You don't know what it's like, a piece of you being gone, the... void that it leaves inside."

"You have to try, for her and yourself. I don't know what it's like you're right but I do know that fate's bringing you two back together for a reason; hopefully closure for both of you."

You stood at the Princess's side when the white and blue ships landed, her hands squeezed yours before releasing it. The doors of ships swung open and the soldiers marched out. Instinctively you took a step forward defensively in front of her.

"General Skywalker," you said extending your hand to the Jedi, "Welcome to Idora." You watched one trooper break ranks and run at the Princess, you smiled as they embraced. You watched the inner company of the 501st step forward following behind him. Seeing him. You didn't let recognition flash across your face as you moved down the line greeting each of them one by one. "If you all may follow me you'll be stationed with me at the inner guard wing."

"Your scar..." Anakin said looking between you and Dogma, feeling the broken bond.

"Completely unrelated, I took a vibro knife to the face when Dooku sent an assassin. I have no mate, Sir" you said continuing your walk keeping your eye on the Princess and her beloved as they pretended to escort all of you to the guards wings barely being able to keep their hands off each other.

"My room is one with burn marks," ironically also with a V, "Every other room is available, make yourselves at home," you excused yourselves shooing your them off to the Princess's room as to not make even more of a scene.

You wondered down the hall and sat on the balcony as the soldiers ruffled around moving gear and arms. Seeing someone sit besides you, you looked to find the solider who was with Dogma the night of the rejection.

"The name's Tup by the way," he said letting his feet dangle over the edge.

"How is he?" You asked the sadness if your voice slipping out.

"Lonely."

You nodded trying to swallow the clump forming in your throat, "At least he's alive," you said one tear falling down. Almost every night you sat on this ledge looking up into the stairs when conditions allowed wondering if he was still alive because you could no longer feel him.

"I'm not sure he'd agree. Rejection is worse then death."

Don't think I'd agree either, "Fate has made it miserable, so many reminders," you said letting your finger tips touch your scar before falling back into your lap.

"Yeah for him too. I didn't know fate could be this cruel."

"Breaking the most divine gift in the universe, I'm surprised she's being this kind."

"You should talk to him," Tup suggested, "It's not over until the banshee screams," he said patting your shoulder and getting up, "The soulmate bond is broke but you two could always try being friends," he said walking away staring at Dogma who was eaves dropping.

"I know your there," you muttered.

"I know," he said coming and taking the spot where Tup was, "It's a phantom sensation compared to what it was," Dogma extended his hand showing you his palm, "Remember when it snapped into place while you were cooking and burnt your palm, I got a matching one. I take it we both now have a couple more matching marks."

"When you fell during training, I elbowed glass and got the mark in the same place."

"Fate's taking this whole know your mates body like your own thing a little two literal," Dogma chuckled.

You joined him, his laugh soothing the awkwardness and tension. You glanced at him watching how at ease he looked, relaxed even compared to how Tup described him as of late. Dogma glanced at you at the scar, the twisted reminder of what could have been.

"It bugs you to look at doesn't it?" You asked looking back out to the court yard littered with ships.

"You're still beautiful."

"Consider yourself a beautiful man?" You attempted to crack a joke but it fell flat.

"I mean it."

"Thank you."

"Tup, is that?" Anakin whispered watching the two of you on the balcony.

"Yes, sir. I think it'll help them find closure."

"It's doing more then that."

"Excuse me?" He said looking frazzled.

"Nothing, let's go get something to eat."

Both of you sat there swapping stories about what happened since you two meet until late into the evening when the stars started twinkling in the sky.

You watched him lay back and stare up at them, "Hell of a view," he said.

"Yeah it is," for the first time in a long time the vastness of space didn't remind you how empty you were, you laid back tucking your arms under your head using them as uncomfortable pillows.

"You ever going to get your bunk set up," Jesse said lightly shoving him with his foot, "Excuse us ma'am."

"Coming, Lieutenant," Dogma said prying himself up, giving you a stiff nod.

You gave them a little salute wave. Probably for the best, I was getting way to comfortable, you thought with a small yawn. You sat up up taking your jacket off and rolled it up putting in under your head, That's better.

"Haven't seen you like this in forever," you heard the Melissa pur behind you.

"Tup said I should talk to him, I think it helped. Where's Sebastian?" You asked noticing her mate wasn't with her.

"Eating with his brother's, it's 'no place for a lady', apparently," she scowled.

You sat up tossing your jacket over your arm, "I'll go baby sit to make sure he doesn't say anything to damning about your lack of virtue," you said winking.

Melissa's face lid red, "I didn't even think of that."

"It's my job to worry," you reassured.

You walked into the makeshift mess promptly putting yourself next to Sebastian with a shit eating grin hearing the conversation about their bond, "Apparently you do need a baby sitter."

"She tell you to keep an eye on me?" He asked.

"It's my duty to know what you're both up too," you laughed, "Don't mind me."

"I don't think this is the place for a-"

"Call me a lady and we're stepping outside," you said pointing your fork at him.

"We can step outside," Dogma said without thinking, having enough of his brothers asking him about rejecting the bond and how it feels to be around you just wanted to get away.

The fork fell from your hand and clanked on the table. Everyone at the table was staring at the both of you. I am going to assume everyone knows.

"I didn't mean it like-" Dogma back tracked trying to apologize.

"Come on," you exhaled, standing up.

Tup covered his mouth trying to hide the massive grin on it, "If they hadn't had been... I would have assumed Fate messaged up," he chuckled out the moment you two were out of earshot.

"That has to be torture, I've already rescued him once," Jesse said.

"I thought that would have been the one rule he bent," Kix admitted.

"What are we gossiping about?" Anakin said standing at the edge of the table watching the both of you walk off chatting about something.

"How miserable he problem is," Jesse said, "Do you mind rescuing him, Sir?"

"He doesn't need saving from her," Anakin smiled sitting down, "Let them work it out."

"If your brother's ask, I kicked your ass," you smiled enjoying the walk.

"If my brother's ask, I handed you yours," he laughed back.

"I take it all of them know?" your voice switched to dead seriousness.

"Yeah, I was still pretty disoriented when Tup got me to the med bay. I'm surprised you stood up that fast."

"I wasn't going to be one of those people who just laid down and took it, I wasn't going to let it break me. I'm glad you seemed to do the same," you said eyeing him.

"I'm a soldier, I keep going no matter what," not entirely a lie, I complete my missions and then I sulk in my bunk.

Your head snapped in the direction of the field, "Go!" You shouted seeing the destroyer droids approaching. You quickly tossed your blasters in the air grabbing clips off your belt and slamming them in as gravity finished the rest. Dogma stared at you and then at the small battalion of droids, "That is an order, GO!" You watched him finally take off at top sped.

"Alright tin bins, come get me!" You shouted darting into the line of trees away from Melissa, like the idiots they were the droids followed you into your domain. Blaster fire sizzled past your ear as you pressed further into the woods picking them off. It would be great if I had my armor right about now. What the hell are they doing this close? How did they get pass the security. Hot footing it up a tree you dropped down at one of the destroyers letting him shoot at the other droids taking out a handful before shooting in and running again.

"Clankers, west courtyard," Dogma yelled the moment he got into the building.

Everyone started flying for there gear and little red lights shot into the sky alerting everyone of the attack. He quickly grabbed his helmet off the table and started sprinting again.

"Where is she!" Tup shouted after him.

"Her duty."

By the time they got back to the courtyard his eye was burning, he toppled over barely caught before slamming into the ground. Tup and Kix stayed scanning him as the rest of his brothers went to go deal with the droids. Dogma pried his eye open seeing her in the forest, it was dark and barely visible then he saw her topple over with her eye seeing what he was see.

"20 droids, heading... North West 2 klicks," he repeated watching her hand signs before it cut outs, "Land Mines," his skull was splitting but his brothers were running into either a trap or boobie traps.

"You rejected your bond how is that even possible?" Kix shouted chasing after them.

Danger. Played over and over in his mind, he commed in about the mines and kept running. He saw them but bee lined right his feet just guiding him with what was left of that tiny homing beckon of what where you were.

Your eye started burning again and you hoped up in a tree waiting for the visual by it never came just the pain intensifying. What the hell is going on. You jumped down from the tree and felt the tiny tug, Dogma. You run in towards his assumed location. You saw the Jedi engaged with a roller then Dogma on his tail running straight towards you. Without thinking you grabbed his armor and tossed him side ways seeing the hidden mind he almost stepped on and then the pain stopped. No time to think of that, you charged at the Roller from the side sliding into it's bubble and popping in the face and the shield drop. Dogma looked down and saw the mine then back at you then down at it again.

"What the kriff was that about! Watch where your going," you shouted at him.

"You were the one in trouble!"

"No you were! How the kriff did you almost miss that mine?"

"At least I wasn't the one getting snuck up on by clankers!" He shouted tossing you behind him ducking out of blast the stragglers that started shooting. 

"Better then losing another limb!" You shouted firing, "I've already lost two. It's not peachy!"

"Maybe I was suppose too!"

"Knock it off!" Anakin said taking care of the last droid, "Care to explain?" He asked Dogma.

"General, this is my rejected mate. We did it months ago but on the way back here I got to see what she was seeing and knew she was in danger."

"And I saw what you were seeing and knew you were danger," you added.

Anakin watched both of you glare at each other, "Dogma-"

"If for some reason I have too I reject it again, sir."

"I was going to say be thankful both of you got to each other in time," Anakin put his hand on his shoulder, "I would have never asked you to do that or do that again," he said looking at the scar across your face, "Fate works in mysterious ways," he shook his head heading back towards Rex and the other troopers.

"You okay?" He whispered noticing the odd way you held your arm.

"Yeah, I bruised it jumping down on a droid," you murmured backed.

"Jumping down?" He asked bewildered.

You pointed up at the trees and then down at the droids, rolling your eyes. You froze for a second feeling his arm wrap around you tightly for a moment releasing before he walked off in the direction of the where the General went. You stared at him for a moment before jogging back towards the Princess finding her safely in her room with Sebastian in his armor and blaster drawn. He quickly holstered it again.

"I need you to take her to the lowest floor and stay there, the King and Queen are already on their way there. We have no idea about the droids got past security. There's extra arms in that trunk, take whatever you need."

"You're not staying?" She cried out staring, "You're suppose to be with me!"

Sebastian walked up and gripped your arm in the soldiers traditional greetings, "I'll protect her."

"I have to duty to the royal family to find the breach, Your Highness. It's been an honor," you said letting go heading straight to your room, armoring up in the family's forest green before jogging back out to where you encountered them and tracking their foot steps. You kept your weapon drawn as you walked further into the brush.

"Panic Room, she's hunting" was the note Rex found in the King's room, "Since we don't know where the panic room is we're going to stay and reinforce the perimeter."

She's hunting... She's tracking the droid. Dogma froze before falling into line following his brothers out. There's no warning bells, she's fine. Will I even get another warning?

"Worried about her aren't you?" Tup asked, "You're not soul mates any more."

No we're not, but we were still made for each other and for some reason it let me save her and her me. Dogma took a breath finally standing still manning his post. We're nothing to each other but I have to trust her. It didn't take long for the blaster shots to ring out. He looked up to see a helmeted figure limping holding a Tac droid head. He stared in the cut out seeing blood drip from your mouth.

You hobbled on one leg towards the troopers, as much as I want to drop kick this droid head because no one gets passed me it could have useful information on it. Great Dogma and Tup, can't I get a break from these two. You handed Dogma the head before spitting the blood out of your mouth, "Told you I would have kicked your ass," you smiled spitting again.

"You fist fought a tac droid?" Tup stared.

"Run out of ammo, now excuse me. I'm gonna go toss myself in a tank. Pull the blue book in the king's room and the alarm will shut off and they'll get the memo to come up."

Dogma tossed the head to Tup, "Get that to the General, I'll have get her to the tank," he said scooping you up, "Guide me."

You pointed in the direction of where he needed to go your mouth and jaw sore from a punch to the face. Dogma carried you with ease letting you relax into his arms as he maneuvered his way to the tank in the mini med bay. He gently setting you down in a chair next to the tank.

"Do you need help?"

"I can do it-" you winced standing up, quickly sitting back down, "Yeah I need help," you admitted sourly wishing he would have tossed you in armor and all.

Dogma kept his eyes glued to the ceiling as he worked your armor off piece by piece top to bottom just leaving you in your under clothes, "Do you need help with the pants?" he asked noticing the swelling, "I think it's broken."

"It's broke alright," Kix said scanning you, "in several spots."

"Yeah I need help," you scowled further.

Dogma gently helped you pulled your pants down keeping his eyes squeezed shut and pulling your shirt gently over your head tugging it off by the wrist before quickly turning facing the door. He watched Kix move towards and focused his eyes on the door, he's not going to do anything inappropriate. He heard the tank door open and the respirator go over her mouth and then the door shut and the cover slide up hiding everything but her face.

"You don't have to keep torturing yourself, I'll stay here," Kix said sitting in the chair and kicking his feet up on the table.

"Why is everyone assuming it's torturing me?" Right... "It's not. The bond is broke, I don't know her and she doesn't know me.  She is a woman and I am being polite."

"You did sense the danger out there," Kix pointed out.

"But I didn't sense, that," he said motioning towards the tank.

"Droid obviously didn't stand a chance once she set her mind to winning, reminds me of someone," he snarked, "Now get out so I can research whatever this is peace," he added motioning towards the both of you.

Dogma didn't go far, he left the room and sat down against the wall next to the door knowing it was going to be hours. He decided to get up go get some caff so he could stay awake. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up while taking a sip, he dropped the cup. The hot liquid steaming off the table before he jogged off back towards the tank finding Kix had ripped her out and was cutting into her side.

"Restrain him!" He ordered seeing the wild expression on his face.

When did they get here? Dogma felt Jesse's and Fives hands on him pulling him back, "What the hell is going on?" he asked.

"She's going to be fine, Dogma, relax. One of her ribs was out of alignment healing. He just has to," they all heard Kix rebreak it, "That," Jesse said.

"Good thing you called," Fives said looking at Kix, who only nodded quickly repositioning it and closing the wound placing her back in the tank with the red light shutting off flickering green, "She's pretty, Dogma" he said trying to distract him as Kix checked over her vitals and other various wounds for any further complications.

"Shut up," he said as they released him.

"It's phantom limb syndrome, I think," Kix said showing the report, "Our mates are an extension of ourselves and severing that is like losing a limb that sometimes acts up. It's just flaring up because you two are close, in this case it was beneficial. It will dissipate."

"That's a relief," Dogma said sitting down against the wall.

"She is honestly really pretty though," Fives laughed joining him, "Beat you reject not taking that for a test ride first."

Dogma shoved him, "I would feel bad for your mate if she wasn't probably the same way."

"I'm just trying to make you laugh, kriff. Stop being so serious all the time, your always tighter then ships bolts. Even if I was serious, it's a compliment. I mean... look at ya," he chuckled, knuckling Dogmas extremely short hair compared to his.

Dogma rolled his eyes waiting the various vitals on the monitor. They all stood up and saluted the King as he and his daughter strolled in with her mate clinging to her, holding her tight.

"What is her condition?" the king asked.

"Stable, she needs to be in the tank for a few more hours to recover from the extensive wounds and I recommend light duty for the next week," Kix said as the King nodded.

Melissa gently pulled Sebastian off, "Thank you," she whispered putting her arms around Dogma who's hand stayed straight in the air until Sebastian motioned that is fine for him to hug her. He awkwardly patted her back, "Hell of a woman..." he whispered, "She's a fighter." He felt her tight stiffen, "I wish things were different," she whispered lowly pulling back, "Me too."

"So I take it your the man I have to thank," The King said looking down at Dogma.

Dogma pointed at Kix, "Technically Kix is the Medic-"

"Yes, that's Dogma" Melissa snorted.

"The Royal family of Idora owes you a favor boy, let us know when you need to collect," he chuckled walking out.

"Thank you, Dogma," Melissa got out, her tear ducks threatening to burst looking at her friend in the tank, "I don't know what I would do I lost her."

Trust me it's not pleasant. Dogma only nodded staring at her in the tank. He didn't even notice them leave the room, he just sat back down and stared at the tank because to him there was nothing else on the room. If his brothers were talking to him during that time he didn't hear it, all he could hear was her voice scolding him and the panic in it. I hugged her. He could still mildly feel the sensation through his arm. I really should put distance between us to get this to go away, I don't know how people with mates get through this, let alone initiating it. Fives hand waving in front of his face finally got his attention. Dogma blinked watching Fives and Jesse turn around and Dogma followed suit.

You hazily felt hands on you and the mouth piece come out proceeding with a ton of wet coughing, "Feel like a droid stepped on my ribs," you coughed again feeling an injection go in your neck and the pain dull.

"I had to rebreak one of your ribs cause it was healing wrong. I'll have to inject you ever 6 hours for the next few days to keep the pain down. Light duty for a week," Kix said quickly wrapping a warming blanket around you, "You should probably shower the excess Bacta off," he added feeling how sticky it was already getting.

You nodded, "Yeah good idea," you shivering, you took a few steps before feeling the Medic's hands on you stabilizing you.

"Do you have a water proof droid to help you?" Kix asked, "I would offer but I think Dogma would kill me."

"No droids, we'll here in the palace."

"I'll take her," Dogma gritted out feeling Jesse's hand snagged his arm at Kix's comment

"I don't care as long as it ends with me in the shower right now," you said your teeth chattering.

Dogma picked you taking you to your room and setting you on the refresher toilet, he quickly ran to his room and changed into a pair of shorts and a tank top before returning. He turned on the water and brought you into the shower tossing off the blanket leaving you in just your under garments. Holding your hips he carefully positioned you under the steamy water watching the goo fall off, he grabbed the scrubber and gently took it to your skin staring straight ahead at the wall.

"You feel it too?" You whispered.

"It's like an old memory, faint, distorted," he said, "should I have let Kix?" he asked.

"I don't mind, I mean I was made for you after all," you admitted, "I understand why you didn't want him too."

"I hope we can be... friends." He said rinsing you off before starting on your hair.

"Me too. I'm sorry for snapping at you back there."

"I deserved it, you were right."

You hooked your arm around his waist, you felt him stiffen trying not to look down at there the wet of his shirt clung to his body, "The pants I understand the shirt I don't.." you chuckled feeling like an idiot as he removed it and tossed it in the corner. You felt him carefully work his fingers through your hair then rest his chin for a moment on top of your head letting you listen to his rapid pulse before shutting off the water. Handing you the dry towel to wrap around yourself. He squeeze dried his shorts the best he could before patting himself dry turning his attention to you. You looked into his brown eyes and perfect caramel tan skin and the edges to his muscle before letting lost in his tattoo. Made for me, stubborn, high strung and a survivor... incredible handsome too.

"My face gets annoying to look at, I know," he joked.

You had him turn around so you could change your chest band and underwear and wiping yourself with the wet part of the toilet before putting on a new set. Dogma helped you put on a pair of knee length shorts a baggie training shirt. He retrieved his shirt squeezing it before putting it back on.

"If you need anything," he said pointing at the comm device he had tossed on the bed, "Press it twice and it will auto dial me." He watched you nod moving you into the bed, "Goodnight." As he left the stern expression on his face returned and he quickly took off the tank, tired the wet feeling against his chest,

You watched him leave taking off the tank before the door even closed all the way, the muscles scattered across his back. You felt your chest flutter and you rolled your eyes. Move on, get them to the front lines in a couple days and forget about him. Your body ached all over, what did Kix say? Six hours? Might as well try to sleep.

"Enjoy your swim?" Fives jokes, "even without the bond," he said wiggling his eye brows.

Dogma punched him, "I didn't touched her, not then, not now, not ever."

"You know I'm joking," Fives said rubbing his arm, "You have to learn to joke man, especially with this, humor is great for pain."

Dogma rolled his and shook his head letting his legs take him back to the mess to finish eating. He scanned around thankful for the emptiness besides a few other troopers scattered about also in silence. He found his food from earlier at the empty table and sat down finishing his food. It was almost nice until Jesse, Kix and Tup sat down. His mouth flatten into a tightly controlled line as he got bombarded with questions with what's going on inside in his head, how he feels and if Kix could run a few test because of how rare it is. Can I get a moments peace? He agreed to shut them up and went with them and then followed them back to down lab expecting a lecture about getting ahold of himself and put space between them but it never came, all he got was a pat on the back, told he's doing a great job and their proud of him.

"I was expecting to be scolded," Dogma admitted flatly.

"Why would we scold you?" Kix asked, "Not all of us agree with that rule. We're just happy to see some what back to your old self. Do you want to be there for the injection? I mean I'm not going to do anything indecent to her, but I know how...temperamental people gets when it comes to their mates."

"She's not my mate. Do it yourself. Are we done?" Dogma said rolling down his sleeve.

Kix nodded watching him stalk off. Tup followed after him just to make sure he didn't anything reckless. Kix looked to Jesse who had his arms folded over his chest and tapping his foot debating something, "Thinking of a way get him shipped back?" Kix asked.

Jesse nodded, "He's always a stick in the mud but now he's turning into a tree in the mud, us pushing him is just making this harder on him."

"Counter point, stick them together. Let Fate decided, it's not a coincidence that her face and door match his tattoos and it's not a coincidence that fate let them save each other. They don't need to be a bonded pair to be together," Kix pointed out watching realization light Jesse's features, "You have an idea don't you?" which only got a grin.

You felt hands touch you and you sprung forward swinging, panting when you noticed it was just Kix with an injector. You apologetically relaxed letting him pull up your shirt up and inject it right under your ribs. Your eyes quickly bounced around the room and he was no where to be found. Hopefully it's wearing off. You flung your feet over the bed and stood up much to Kix's complaint about resting. You grabbed your pillow and a throw blanket, having him guide you back out to the balcony on this cloudless night. Kix's hand carefully supported your waist and back of your legs helping you to the ground. He pulled your head up and tucked the pillow under it asking if there was anything he could do. "No, thank you, Kix."

Dogma watched from the end of the hall as her door opened, Kix walking out with her in his arms and her bedding in her lap and how gently he touched her helping her to the ground. His nostril flared at the tenderness. He stoned his face as Kix left her there to go back to sleep noticing the com device in her hand. Dogma saw Kix stand next to him for a minute waiting for a comment or threat but he kept his mouth shut and Kix walked away to get back to the other wounded. Dogma walked into his room and set his com next to his pillow and stripped his armor leaving him in his blacks as he got into bed.

In the morning Kix cautiously waked you on the Balcony moving you into a hover chair for the day while your leg continued to heal. He put the bedding back on your bed before wheeling you down to the mess. He asked if you wanted to sit with him and the other wounded or with the troops. You saw the stern angry face on Dogma and opted to sit with the wounded. He tucked you in at the end of the table next to him. All of you ate in silence just enjoying the company until Melissa and Sebastian walked over.

"How are you doing?" She asked tenderly hugging you.

"I'm fine, the chair is precaution."

"Because someone doesn't get they need to rest and not walk on it," Kix muttered.

"You took out a tac droid hand to hand?" Sebastian said impressed.

"It got through my security wall, it would have been my second personal embarrassment of the night if I retreated."

"Remind me not to piss her off," Sebastian playfully whispered to the Princess, "She looked bad, I can guarantee the droid looked worse," she replied giggly.

"My life is in service yours, your highness, it would offend my honor as your guard if didn't leave that droid in little pieces," you saw the sad smile spread across her lips, "and I can guarantee that droid can't be rebuilt. Also I need new armor, it's a little... broken," you offered looking at her trying to hold back the laughter.

"Father already put in the request with any upgrades that could reinforce it, we're going to get back to my duties. I'm glad you're in good spirits."

Breakfast went back to silence, you could feel eyes on you and yours eyes flicked up to the General staring at you while talking talking to the Lieutenant. You dropped your eyes back down and finished eating.

The next three rotations went by in similar fashion, Kix would help you and bring you to meals with no sign of Dogma. After lunch Kix brought you down to the med bay to scan your leg giving you the okay to walk on it but no strenuous exercise or prolonged walking.

Leaving the med bay you have a trooper waiting for you, "Need something?" You asked noticing him following.

"The name is Fives," he said, "and no, I just wanted to see how you were doing ma'am and to thanking you for the tac droid, we got a lot of useful information off of it."

"It's not a problem, I'm glad the pain is worth it."

"As a nat-born, we're all actually impressed with you."

"Nat-born?" you asked your face contorting into puzzlement.

"Natural Born, we're all engineered in a lap muscle composition, immunity, etc. You'd give us a run for our creds, we've never seen someone outside of Gar act like that."

"I am not immune to flattery," you laughed, "but thank you. This is my home, I will do whatever to protect it."

Dogma watched him make her life as they stopped and stand their chatting, her laugh was so warm and relaxing. Is he flirting? Dogma's nostrils flared but he made himself stop staring noticing Jesse staring at him and then at them. Dogma tried to forced himself away until he saw Five's stick his arm around her. His teeth felt like they were going to break with how hard he was clenching his jaw. She can do whatever she wants, but Fives? Never. He walked over and slammed into his jaw sending him backwards.

"For kriff's sake!" Fives watching her stumble into the wall and slide down.

"I- thought you were hitting on her," Dogma apologized pulling you back up.

"I was but not that much," Fives said rubbing his jaw, "She was trying to adjust her leg stabilizer."

"Why do you care? Not like you haven't been ignoring me for the past couple days. We're nothing to each other," you regretted it the moment it come out, but pain had a tendency to make things worse.

"I-" Dogma closed his mouth and handed you back to Fives, "Sorry."

"I don't get him, he rejects you yet still acts like that," Fives said tightening his grip until you were doing with your adjustments.

"Sooner there's distance between us it'll go away again. I'm sorry he punched you."

"Not the first time," Fives grunted, "but I get it, I had to watch people touch my mate I'd probably want to rip them apart too... right... sorry."

"You haven't met yours?" You asked.

"Not yet, maker I can't wait though."

"You're not going to reject her?" You raised an eye brow.

"Of course not, none of us besides obviously a few agree with that rule. We don't live long and constantly fighting, it's the one normal in our lives."

"I didn't have to reject him and he didn't have to reject me, how ironic," you mumbled finishing your adjustments.

"I think fate's trying to give you a chance," he said touching the perfect scar, "or it quiet literally wouldn't have slapped you in the face," he joked letting go.

"You might have a point, thanks Fives," I'm going to do something stupid and hope it doesn't blow up in my face, "I got something I need to take care of." You hobbled your way back up to your room and sat on your bed and stared at the device. You let out a long breath trying to clear your head before pressing it twice.

Dogma heard the loud beep on his wrist, he stared at it before prying himself out of his bunk, "Yes?" he asked quietly wondering if you pressed it on accident.

"Come to my room for a sec," you heard one of his brother snicker but heard his footsteps before he switched it off. You stared at the door waiting, you saw the shadow under the door him standing there wondering what he was thinking about. He finally opened the door and walked in standing halfway between you and the door. You patted your hand on the spot next to you, you saw the conflict roll across his face and he moved closer to you until he legs were touching were but he didn't sit.

"It would be unprofessional and against regulation if I sat on your bed."

"Dogma. Sit," His legs moved before his mind could the decision for him and he sat a hands space away from you, "I think it's time we talked."

"I was afraid you were going to say that," he groaned.

"That first day we were fine but when night came and than whatever that was in the woods there's been... tension. Fighting your brothers and even being more of a hard ass then normal."

"I don't know what's gotten into me," he admitted, "I shouldn't be jealous or care, we are both free to peruse whatever we want."

"Yet even without the bond you peruse me," you pointed out.

"It's just the nagging thought that we were made for each other... I am no where near ready to see you with someone else yet as much as I wish for your happiness and good health," he added quickly.

"I think... we need to get whatever it is out of our system, then maybe Fate will stop torturing us and we can go back to carrying on," you said looking at the bed and then back him, his eyes going wide at what you were insinuating, "Since we rejected the bond, it shouldn't break regulation."

"Since we are not mates, it be improper-"

"But we were, just think about it?"

"It's all I've thought of," he said scooting closer until your hips were touching. "Me too," you admitted back. Dogma stood up and quietly walked over to the door locking it before taking off his armor leaving it in a neat pile by the door. He cautiously placed himself between your legs. "Are you sure?" he asked watching you nod.

Your heart was racing but you brought one hand to his neck and pulled him down, it wasn't like the thousands of spark igniting your body like it was suppose to be but it was still exhilarating and terrifying all at the same time. You felt one of his hands grab the bed and the other hold your face. You pulled him closer causing you to lay back and him go lean over you to continue kissing you.

He bit your lip and pulled back raggedly breathing, "I don't know how mates do it, this is already intense," he voiced feeling your fingers tug at his shirt. He took it off feeling quiet exposed.

You saw the discomfort on his face, you consciously removed yours and nearly unclipped your chest band bringing his fingers to the last clip letting him decide. You stared at him patiently for a moment before he undid it, smiling at his transfixed expression. You scooted further onto the bed making him follow listening to his excited groan as he saw the jiggle the movement caused and his mouth found the harden ridges as his fingers squished the underside of it. The whole area felt hard and tender under his touch. His mouth moved worked up your chest to your throat back to your lips.

"You're so perfect," he whispered.

"Than prove it," you taunted.

Dogma looked down and then back up with an arched eyebrow, you giggled but moved your hands down to your pants slightly tugging them down, "Let me," he said leaning back on his heels pulling your pants and undergarments down and off careful of your leg looking at the bruise on it, "Shouldn't we wait until that is-"

"Dogma."

"I'll shut up," He said standing up freeing his cock from his pants, relaxing that some of the tension from how tightly the pants were holding it was gone. He saw you eyeing him like a soldier who hasn't eaten in days eyeing his ration bar. He starting eyeing you back letting his eyes slowly trail up you. "Do you also feel-"

"Like I'm going to be sick from how hard my core is pounding? Yes."

"I mean this," he motioned between the both of them and the dull cluster of... something over his eye.

"Yeah, so hurry up."

Dogma grinned shaking his head, his face hurting, "Yes, Ma'am," he said planting himself inbetween your legs, letting his hands trial up your legs but not touching letting his fingers run right next to it. He stared down at you wondering if you could how hard his heart was shaking his chest.

"See something you like?" You asked seeing the dilation in his eyes.

"You have no idea," he muttered before spitting into his hand bringing his hand to himself stroking himself covering him tip to base. Before wiping the left over down across his abs watching you squirm over the gleam. His cheek flashed red as he moved himself closer.

"That... was... the hottest thing I've ever seen... besides you," you whispered your voice quivering feeling his hands come to the sides of your shoulders and his tip pressing into your entrance.

"Are you sure... I don't think there's any going back-" he voice hitched feeling you raise your hips trying to push him in, "Kark," he mumbled at the sudden sensation, "Let me," he said carefully pressing your hip back down to get pressure off your leg.

Your head felt light feeling him slowly stretching you and trying to admire his strength at holding back. Inch by inch worked himself up until he was hitting the top of you and still had part of himself sticking out. You brought your hands to his body touching every muscle and he brought his one hand to the scar tracing the familiar V. He kissed the scar up and down feeling you stretch out more for him with every kiss until you had all of him inside. I knew she could take all of me. You smiled finally feeling his hips against yours, I knew he was perfect for me, your heart calmed down a little after wondering if fate had made a mistake. Fate doesn't make mistakes, both of you thought.

"Let's just try to be quiet," he got out realizing that wasn't going to last long with the warm wetness sounds from him barely moving, Whatever the punishment is has to be better then not knowing her. He mentally scolded himself for the traitorous thoughts, "Am I okay to start?" he asked.

"Please" you begged.

Dogma nodded bringing one hand to the side of your face holding you as he partially withdrew himself, letting your fingers cover his as he pushed himself back in. Your head fell back into the bed feeling him plunge back in your walls squishing around the intrusion. He started slowly pulling out a little more each time before thrusting back in.

"Dogma," you panted.

"Yes?" He asked stopped worried if he'd hurt you.

"Harder, please. I need- you," you panted out your heading feeling empty.

Dogma's core tighten on the command his body screaming to obey, "If it hurts you have to tell me to stop."

You nodded feeling the flush bloom around your face as you saw felt his hands move about your shoulders locking you in place and his muscles tightened as he took off. The slapping wetness and feeling him slide against your clit with every stroke.

Dogma let out moan hearing your bodies come together perfectly, "Kriff Mesh'la," he smiled, "It's almost like you were made for me," he mumbled thrusting full force into you letting his thighs push your hips further apart.

"Dogma," the moan ripped from your throat rather loudly.

The sound of his name on your lips almost made him cum right there. He repeated the motion causing you to moan again. Your fingers dug into his hand and the other into the side of his head. You saw the half intoxicated lidded expression of need across his face, "please," you rasped out. After a couple quick explosive hard thrust you felt the wave take you. You cried out his name curling into him letting your walls clench onto him. It was incomprehensibly passionate as he stared down into your eyes continuing to ride you through your high, your slide down from the side to his face. That small intimate motion made him come undone letting him coat every inch of your walls until it was dripping out onto the bed. Shuddering and barely up to breath he tried to pull out but your leg flew up and held him in place and pulled him down, "You're not- going to hurt- me." His body pressed into yours like a warm blanket, embracing you as he put his face in the crook of your neck trying to catch his breath. You could still feel him twitching inside you, every twitch cause you to clench around him again feeling a little more seep into you. "Waiting your whole life to give me that?" You laughed trying to catch your breath.

"Told you Fate would handle it," Kix pulling Fives and Tup away from the door, groaning when he saw Hardcase and the General walking towards them.

"Noise complaint?" Fives joked.

"I could hear them from the end of the hall," Hardcase frowned for a moment, "For not being mates anymore it sure sounded like it."

"The Force works in mysterious ways, let's go do a weapons test to give them some more time," Anakin said nodding away from the room.

"We're all giving him crap later right?" Sebastian said popping his head out from Melissa's room, "Get back over here!" She called laughing.

"It's to late to move everyone into the mess isn't it? I don't think any of us will be sleepy with both of them on the same floor," Tup groaned.

"Their ear plugs in the med bay, I'll go grab them and pass them out."

It only took Dogma's body a couple minutes to recover before going again, this time let his hands trail all over you getting to know every inch of flesh as your hands moved around him. The next few days were like that, if they weren't eating or training he was in your bed pretending every moment in between nothing was going on even if it was bluntly obvious. Each night when he thought his brothers were asleep sneaking out towards your room finding you nakedly waiting for him. Then the day came for them to go to the front lines and your armor had arrived. That morning neither of you cared to be discrete or quiet.

"Out of your system enough?" You asked laying in the after glow enjoying the two loads of mess he made you.

"Enough to focus at least," he gently pulled you off the bed keeping his dick in as he walked the both of you to your refresher, slowly removing himself hearing the plop of the filling fall out onto the shower floor. He turned on the water letting it wash down the drain. You both quickly cleaned up scrubbing the sex and sweat from your skin. Dogma 'snuck' out and wormed his way back into his room throwing his gear on and laying on his bunk waiting for everyone else to wake up.

You opened the new truck of armor looking at the  upgrades and reinforcements and then throwing it on, you had told Melissa you'd be going with them and it was up to Sebastian. She fought with you about the change of plans but when she saw Dogma sneaking out of your room she finally caved. Little did he know of your plans however. You waited downstairs for them with the Jedi.

"Does he know your coming?" Anakin asked crossing his arms.

"No, he's not my mate so it's non of his business."

Sure he's not, he thought watching the men pile in, "Small change of plans, she's joining us for now on the front lines so you all will be reporting to her and Captain Rex. So get ready to move out," Anakin staring at Tup's shocked expression and Dogma's indifferent expression but there was noticeable annoyance oozing from him.

"Ever been out there before?" Rex asked stepping away from Anakin towards out.

"A few times to clear my head," To kick my own ass from the hollowness Dogma left inside me. Your eyes glanced to his short hair but his back was  to you, I'll probably be going out there again once he leaves.

All off you crept towards the front lines relieving the boys there, "Stay here," you whispered jumping up into the tree using its brush for cover but there was nothing. The normally waring field was silent with no droids in sight. You hoped down landing on your hood leg.

"It's quiet... two quiet. Set up camp here while the other squad moves out."

"Ma'am it's been quiet for days," one of the squad members said.

You arched an eyebrow, "How quiet?"

"Not a single droid here all the way out to to the eastern front line."

"I hope taking the head of the dragon made them retreat but I doubt I'm that lucky."

You all set up camp, you choose to build a little view point to sleep. You smiled hearing the troopers mutter how Idoran were a bunch of tree people, as you jump down and landed right in the center of them, "You boys look like you need a climbing lesson. On the ground it's easier to be sitting ducks, up there can buy you precious moments to surprise the enemy or live another day." You spent the rest of the evening teaching them how to climb in the dark and watching them fall and get back up.

"Dogma, your up," you got out, awkwardly making him last. Your hands brushed up against his as you made him learn the difference in the feeling of wood and your eyes meet as you pointed up at weak vs secured branches. Out of all of them he did the best and almost got up to your perch before falling half way down. "You can come down, you did good." You sat with all of them and ate, no one pointing out the obvious marks on your's and Dogma's necks. Not even Fives made a joke.

A month passed by silently, no droids no warning lights at the palace, nothing. You looked at Dogma when you saw the next batch of ships arrive in the sky signaling their tour here was done. Dogma on the March put himself next to you, not a word all the way there but enjoyed the hours just being next to you. You shook the General's hand apologizing for the lack of excitement but thankful the troops got a small vacation from the daily battles.

"Don't leave anything unsaid," he whispered letting go of your hand.

Except both of you did, he packed up and left without a word. Duty and Loyalty come first. The moment he was off the planet the creeping hollowness came back, the void of him empty once again. During Umbara there wasn't a moment you weren't in his mind, Duty, Loyalty, The Republic, her. He tried to hold it together not wanting to get into trouble, believing Krell had everything for the war in mind and then his betrayal stung and broke him even further.

"Tell her..." He whispered to Rex as they put the cuffs on, "The King owes me a favor."

"I'll tell them," he replied as they hauled him off.

Your bedroom door flew open and your head was ripping itself apart, you covered the eye staring at the king and Melissa, "Dogma?"

"We have to go. Now," You saw Captain Rex say standing off to the side.

You hoped off the bed and followed after them in the King's personal ship. Your head was pounding but no images were streaming, I don't know if that's good or not. Captain Rex told you about what happened and what Dogma had done for the rest of them.

"I'll talk to the Chancellor," the King said, "We make up a big portion of the Republics donations."

"You'd do that for me?" You asked the King.

"You've been nothing loyal to my daughter and to Idora. Sebastian will need his own guard, as much as I trust your capabilities to keep both of them safe. Might as well be someone you both trust."

The rest of the flight to Coruscant was silent, Rex handed you an eye patch and a patch to put over the angry eye. You followed silently with the King's guard with the Chancellor's office shoving the Coruscant guards to the side bargaining. The color Chancellor's face went pale as the King stood to full height staring down at him.

"King Maxell how can the Senate be of service?" He asked with a fake smile.

"I'm here to negotiate the release of CT-8726 'Dogma' immediately into Idoran custody."

"The King and I need to talk in private," The Chancellor said dismissing the rest of us cautiously eyeing Rex.

You paced back and forth outside the chancellor's door not caring how anyone else perceived it. Minutes felt like hours until the flash of red caught your eye. You saw the four guards escorting Dogma. They lead him into the Chancellor's office, a minute after that you saw Anakin another older man with orange hair follow in after him. You started pacing again more composed but still on edge.

Dogma kept this standard blank expression through the conversation talking about him like he wasn't even there. Even after protecting the Republic from a traitor I'm still only property after all, an asset. I did what I had too. Dogma listened as General Skywalker defended him and his loyalty, even noting that his record says 'Rejected.' The pain in his eye slowly starting to recede.

"He is to released as is, his uniform and armor remain here," The Chancellor said, "Escorted by General Anakin Skywalker as a precaution he won't run."

The King looked out with a blank expression on his face but out followed Dogma and the guards. They followed us back to the ship. Almost free. Outside the ship the guards undid his cuffs and he followed the King onto the ship. You followed Melissa unto the ship staring at the dark bags under his eyes and how his irises even seemed darker then last time. You sat across from him staring at him and how his eyes were glued to the ground.

"Orange isn't your color," you tried to joke but only got a soft chuckle from him. You groaned standing up and pulled him to the back of the ship to sit in seclusion. You put your hand on his leg feeling a small barely notice zap rum up your arm. "Look at me," he obeyed, "You're safe." You kissed him and it was like a crackling lightning storm and the pain in your eye finally receded, you tossed the eye patch to the ground. Reflexively you moved into his lap. Running your fingers through his hair, you pulled back a single tear falling when you both noticed it.

"Is that even possible?" Melissa whispered dumbfounded.

"Fate finds a way," Anakin laughed, "You two! Keep it appropriate until we land!" He laughed more watching Dogma forcibly move you off with a bashful expression. "It's going to be a long flight."

Dogma kept one hand on your leg and other interlaced with yours on his knee, his free leg droning again the floor. Both of your bodies came alive feeling that invisible little tug to complete the bond. You rested your forehead against the side of his head for moment taking in his smell and how much stronger it was, "That was a mistake," you mumbled feeling the water works of your lower half start, "Liked this better the first time," he grumbled.

“I remember what it was like when I met her mother,” the king smiled, “then she gave me the most precious gift… I don’t envy what either of you are feeling.” Red spread across both of your faces, “We’ll be back to Idora soon enough.”

You both were barely off the ship before being all over each other, you hoped up as threw your legs around his waist and he carried you you weightlessly off to room. His hands grasping at every opening in the armor. Barely in the empty haul you let your armor clatter to the ground leaving a trail to your room. Dogma surprisingly made to the bed setting you on it before ripping off the orange prison uniform, groaning when he felt the wet spot. He looked down see his cock soaked with precum.

“You think that’s bad?” You laughed ripping off your top and showing him your underwear, “Just sniffing you started it.”

“Then I won’t keep you waiting any longer,” he shoved you downward letting your head hit the pillow before perfectly sliding into you. He froze blinking at the pulsating signal’s scattering throughout his body while trying to take it how wet and warm you were, “Mesh’la,” he weakly said, his head completely empty except the need to seal the bond.

“Dogma,” you said bringing your hands to his chest, “hurry,” the dizzy sensation in your head was making your eyes try to shut.

His teeth sunk into the base of your neck working the spot with this teeth, “Mine,” he growled. The carnal need that coursed through made him feel sick as it override everything he wanted to do with the feral urge to mark you up as his. No longer republic property, I’m her property. He brought his throat to your mouth moaning as he felt the connection. The moment he feel you breath he brought his mouth down to yours pressing his forehead to yours.

“Soulmate,” he whispered and then you felt it the thick ropes shooting you claiming you as his. You came around him your walls coaxing everything out of him and the urge of the bond start to recede as it was finally complete, “Did I hurt you?” He whispered when he could finally form a sentence.

“Leaving without a goodbye hurt,” you admitted feeling one of his hands go around your back holding your body tight against him.

“Saying goodbye would have destroyed what was left of me,” he breathed.

“It destroyed me,” you started cry, “We weren’t mates but I got to know you as a friend and as a lover, you just left. You could have died I would have never known.”

He grabbed the blanket and started wiping your face keeping his face tense so he wouldn’t start because you had a point, he wouldn’t have known. “You’ve always known when I was in danger. Always,” he said kissing the side of your eye, “I can’t mate with you when your crying,” he said softly, “How can I help you Mesh’la?”

“Hold me for a bit?”

Dogma carefully rolled you putting you on his chest, wrapping both arms around you, “I can do that.”

“Dogma?” You asked listening to the soothing sound of his heart beat.

“Hmm?”

“I like your heartbeat.”

“And I love you,” he said without missing a beat.

You looked up at him smiling before putting your ear back on his chest, “I love you too.”

[jedipoodoo]

Ruthlessness (Sergeant Hunter x fem!Reader)

"After everything you've done...how will you sleep at night?"

"Next to my wife."

Notes: Feral Hunter, above-average bloodshed and violence. Reader is implied to be a Jedi but it's never explicitly stated, inspired by that line from Epic: The Vengeance Saga.

Hunter tore through the base. He could smell your fear and terror, and he knew you were nearby. He didn't even need Tech's directions.

This is what he was made for.

He hadn't slept since he'd heard you'd been captured, and he wouldn't rest until you were safe in his arms.

He quickly dispatched the two TK Troopers at the door with blaster and knife. Before the first body could hit the floor, he snatched the key card from their belt. He could hear your heartbeat just beyond the door, sluggish and slow, along with one other heartbeat and the deadly hum of an interrogation droid.

The moment the door opened, Hunter found his target, launching his vibroblade at the droid.

The blaster shot took him by surprise. Hunter managed to dodge so that it grazed him just below the ribs, but it burned. Every nerve in his body screamed out in pain,but he had to keep moving forward Hunter dropped to his knee, holding his wound, and looked up at the blaster pointed at his face.

"Doctor Hemlock warned me you'd come after her," the Imperial officer said, his voice low and lethal. He sounded just like Hemlock and Rampart, a controlled calm with a storm seething beneath the surface.

Hunter had no use for control. Not when he saw you hanging limp in the officer's arm like the damsel in distress in some cheap holo novel.

"Let her go, and I might let you live." Hunter growled, pushing himself to his feet.

The blaster followed his every move, and the officer chuckled as if he hadn't just been threatened.

"That's not an option here. She's a traitor, as are you."

Hunter took a step forward, only to stumble against a table littered with surgical tools. The officer kept the blaster trained on him, smart man.

But not smart enough.

"You're a stubborn one, aren't you?" The officer chuckled, "You clones just don't know when to quit."

"Hun'red percent success rate," Hunter bragged through gritted teeth, forcing his legs to support him.

"And vain too," the officer scoffed.

Hunter turned his body just enough that the officer couldn't see him grab the scalpel, still trying to make his way to you. Your heartbeat was growing slower with each passing second. He had to get you out of here.

"And what do you call your Emperor, then? An empire that'll last a thousand years? The Republic's been around longer than that."

"The Republic is gone!" The officer snapped, "That is the difference between the Galactic Empire and your precious Republic!" He jabbed the barrel of his blaster against Hunter's chestplate, sealing his doom.

Hunter moved too fast for anyone but Crosshair to have really noticed. The scalpel met its target in the vein of the officer's wrist, and he dropped the blaster with a scream. Hunter grabbed the wound and twisted it, forcing the officer to drop your body. Hunter only took his eyes off the officer to make sure you were safe, but he recovered quickly. He reached for the blaster with his non-dominant hand, and Hunter kicked it out of reach. The officer went for Hunter's wound, digging his hand into the wound. The air was ripped from Hunter's lungs as he tried to focus his vision. He couldn't let you die here, not as a trophy for some fanatic Imperial sycophant.

He still gripped the scalpel in his hand, and as the officer grinned sadistically Hunter drew it across his face. Blood splattered everywhere, and the officer reeled back with his face in his hands. Hunter didn't let him recover. He stomped his booted foot on the officer's shin, shattering his bones. The officer writhed on the floor as he tried to crawl away, dark blood from his face and wrist staining his gray uniform and slicking the tile floor.

Hunter held his side and adjusted his hold on the scalpel for a firmer grip, standing above the insignificant worm of a sentient that had dared to lay a hand on his Cyare.

"You clones-" the officer spat, coughing on his own blood.

"Scraping by, betraying the glory of the Empire just to live hand to mouth..."

"How how do you live with yourself?

"How do you sleep at night?"

Hunter grabbed onto the officers hair, yanking his head back so that the last thing he ever saw was the clone who would kill him.

"Next to my wife."

He drove the scalpel into the monster's chest, over, and over, and over again, until he heard the silence of its heart.

Hunter heaved a deep breath, tasting the coppery tang of blood at the back of his throat. It took a moment, but Hunter knew it wasn't his own.

A shuddering breath echoed through the room, and Hunter turned to you, crouching in between you and the officer so that you wouldn't have to see him as you woke up.

"Cyare? Cyare, can you hear me?" He called your name, cradling your head in his lap.

You mumbled something unintelligible, eyelids twitching.

"Hun'er?"

"Easy, easy Cyare, you're safe. It's over," He said. He gently pressed his fingers to the spot below your jaw where he could feel your heartbeat. It was delicate, like the flutter of a bird's wing, but it was there all the same. He needed to get you to the ship.

Hunter lifted you into his arms and though you raised your arms to hang onto his neck, they weighed as much as a starcruiser.

"I've got you," He whispered, "You're gonna be alright."

Your knee hit the blaster wound in his side, and he winced.

"You're hurt," You gasped, still drugged but now worried about him.

He shook his head and straightened his shoulders, "Don't worry about me. You're safe now. That's all that matters."

@photogirl894 @meadow-of-daisies-and-lavender @emperor-palpaminty @clonethirstingisreal (I just thought y'all would enjoy ✌️)

[mandos-mind-trick]

Kinktober Day 19 - Voyeurism

Summary: When you first met Rex, you wouldn’t have pitted him as the risky type. Little do you know he’s got a few surprises up his sleeve. 

Pairing: Captain Rex x reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, unprotected sex, public sex, shower sex, fucking in the barracks, voyeurism, Rex is secretly a freak

A/N: Once again stepping out of my comfort zone with Rex. A bit nervous about this one honestly.

MASTERLIST

When you first met Rex, you wouldn’t have pitted him as the risky type. He showed up early to your date with flowers, held the door for you, walked you back to your barracks on the cruiser, and came the next day to the med bay to see you. He was sweet and polite. He called you ma’am until you gave him permission to call you by your name. 

The first time he held your hand, he asked if it was okay. He asked permission to kiss you the first time, even though you were close enough to breathe in each other’s air. 

It wasn’t until after you had sex the first time that he became a little more bold. Touching you when he felt like it, initiating without asking if you were sure you wanted it five times even after you gave him permission.

The first time he wraps his hand around your throat while piledriving you into the bed, you nearly pass out from shock. You’re sure that’s the moment when you fell in love with him. As soon as you clamped around him, cumming on his cock from the feel of his hand around your throat, something shifted in him. He became rougher, riskier. 

He explored different positions with you. He cuffed you to your bunk once. You’re not even sure where he got the cuffs from. You fucked in a supply closet, mid flight. He ate you out under your desk while you did paperwork. 

This new side of him that he was showing was thrilling, and you’re certainly not going to complain. 

It’s when he fucks you in the communal fresher after a long campaign when you realize the extent of his riskiness. 

It had been a spur of the moment decision after you had finished in the med bay, sent away to get some rest. You were dead tired, but the adrenaline and nervous energy was still pumping through you. You ran into him in the hallway on your way to your barracks after he had spent the last few hours filling out paperwork and doing reports. He looked like he needed some stress relief, and you were more than happy to get fucked to unconsciousness if it meant you could clear your head enough to sleep. 

He takes you to his barracks, the beds full of tired troopers, but none of them pay you any mind as Rex leads you past them. He takes you into the fresher, the door unlocked, allowing for any of them to walk in at any time.

All thoughts leave your head when he pushes you up against the fresher wall, tossing a leg over his shoulder before burying his face in your pussy. 

You fuck in the freshers, quick and needy before moving to his bunk. He hovers over you, blanket tossed over you both. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer to you. He kisses you, desperate and needy and still hard despite cumming in you in the fresher. He slips into your slick folds easily, both of you groaning quietly. You’ll never get tired of the feeling of him inside you. 

You shiver at the thought of getting caught by the sleeping clones around you. Any of them could roll over and see you under their Captain. A chill of excitement runs up your spine, your pussy clenching around him. 

His movements are slow and deliberate, careful not to make the bunk shake, or to make too much noise. You don’t need fast or hard fucking, not in this situation. The thought of fucking in a room full of people has you dripping and excited. 

He keeps his lips pressed against yours, swallowing the quiet sounds that escape as he rocks into you. Your bodies grind together, getting slick with sweat despite your round in the fresher. 

You turn your head to the side, lips parting in surprise as you meet the eyes of a clone in the bunk next to you. Fives, you think. You know most of them. You’ve seen them routinely in the med bay. He’s watching you, and judging by the subtle movements of the blanket covering him, he’s enjoying it. 

Rex’s hand covers your mouth as a moan escapes, your eyes locked with Fives’. As you become more aware of the room you can pick up other sounds. Muffled groans, creaking bunks, shifting bodies. 

They’re awake. They know. Rex knows. 

You don’t care. 

The General could walk in and you wouldn’t care. 

Not with the way Rex’s cock is twitching inside you. He’s close, obviously enjoying being watched just as much as you are. You wonder how often he’s been on the other end, how many times he’s woken in the middle of the night to discover one of the others with a visitor in their bunk. You’re no fool, you hear stories from other civilian medics about their clone lovers. You’ve never said anything about Rex, keeping him to yourself. 

Until now. 

You cum with a cry, Rex pulling back just in time for it to sound through the bunks. He presses his body into yours as he cums, filling your pussy with his cum. You’re both breathing heavily, echoing groans sounding through the barracks. 

You pull Rex against your body, wrapping your arms around him. He presses kisses to your neck as your head turns to the side, meeting Fives' gaze once more. A small smirk forms on your face as he lays there, lips parted and panting. You wink at him before turning your attention to Rex once more.

Ye ole Ragu list:

@kaminocasey @rosechi @mxkyrie @bobaprint @star-trekker-0013 @padawancat97 @bamfahsoka @rain-on-kamino @thrawnspetgoose @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @wolffegirlsunite @dukeoftheblackstar @starrylothcat @sev-on-kamino @freesia-writes @anxiouspineapple99 @wings-and-beskar @dystopicjumpsuit @littlemissmanga @madameminor @eris-k @clio3kantarella @moonlightwarriorqueen @sleepingsun501 @originalcollectionartistry @maddiedrmr @idontgetanysleep @sinfulsalutations @clonemedickix @523rdrebel @deejadabbles @starqueensthings @multi-fan-dom-madness @wizardofrozz @mythical-illustrator @sunshinesdaydream @mooncommlink @lickylickylicky @sweetheartsnips @crosshairlovebot @ghostperson69 @captain_rexs_cyare @jediknightjana @jedi-hawkins @dalu-grantkylo @cw80831

[queenariesofnarnia]

the rescue

tech x f!jedi reader

wc: 1,552

tech lives au, i was a tech is cx-2 believer

warnings: some spoilers if you haven't finished season 3, mentions of grief, hemlock, and brief violence

You knew this was going to be risky but it was your best shot. You stood with Crosshair doing your best to take out the assassins. Until you got distracted by a pull in the force. A familiar pull you haven’t felt since Eriadu. Collapsing to your knees at the overwhelming feeling, blasters dropped to the floor as a painful scream wracked through your body. Darkness took over your vision as a blaster bolt stuns you. 

The only feeling you can make out is him. You were too overwhelmed by grief following his fall, the day Hunter restrained you from jumping after him. From that day on you’ve beaten yourself up over not saving him. You felt like the force abandoned you that day, the pain was enough to anger you. But you put the effort into finding Omega, working through the grief was hard but you got her and Crosshair back. That’s something Tech would’ve wanted. 

“A glaring weakness in clones is their loyalty to one another. Thank you for proving my point” a voice you’ve only heard once before tonight reaches your ears as you stir awake. You try to free your hands but it doesn’t work. “Their efforts have failed. Predictably so.” Hemlock adds. 

“Sir there’s been an explosion in the central lab. It’s been destroyed” a trooper informs. 

“You failed too. Your data’s gone” Omega says. 

“But I have you” Hemlock retorts. You glance over to see Wrecker has woken up. 

“You’re forgetting one thing” her tone proud, as Wrecker breaks loose. “I have them” she adds. She runs to your side freeing your restraints then Hunters. Before Hemlock cuffs her to him and runs out. 

“Get the kid” Wrecker says before tackling an assassin through the window. Hunter picks up the electric staff one of the assassins was using. Stumbling through the small area. You notice the assassin that has been on your tail ever since Omega has come back to you going for Hunter. That’s when you feel the force pull you again. You see Crosshair aim a blaster at the assassin and it misses. As Hunter gets ready to throw the spear you force it from his hands. 

“Crosshair drop the blaster” you demand through gritted teeth. He looks at you like you’ve gone crazy. “Cross please” you plead with him. The assassin makes a move towards you. You push him back into the wall. “Go to sleep” using a mind trick on him. He collapsed against you, taking you down to the floor. 

“Why?” Hunter begins to question. You wave your hand at him instructing him to go after Omega. You free your hands from under the assassins weight reaching for his helmet. Pulling it off slowly. Auburn curls fell in his face at the removal of his helmet. Auburn curls that you recognize from the late nights of playing with them until he fell asleep. Curls that he always kept slicked back during his soldier days. You lift him up slowly, placing your hands under his arms you begin your drag him out to the shuttle. Using any strength your body had to get him there alive was your objective. Acquiring a blaster to stop anyone who got in your way. The one time you wish you brought your saber along but you knew the risk. Not many of Hemlock’s troopers stayed behind or many have already been dealt with as you trudged through the hall nearing the hangar. Hearing your name being frantically called over the coms of an unconscious trooper leaning down to pick it up. 

“I’m almost to you” you grunt out as you pull Tech’s body along trying to minimize the amount of bruises he’ll have when he wakes up. As you make way through the doors of the hangar, you see the shuttle, relief washing over you. Your body may be exhausted but you weren’t giving up. Echo runs to meet you, a look of disbelief as he sees who is in your arms. “Help me please. He’s heavier than he looks” you joke. Echo chuckles but grabs a hold of Tech’s left arm as you drag him up the boarding ramp. 

“How did you know it was him?” Echo asks as you strap him into a seat. 

“I felt him. It was like feeling his signature for the first time all over again” you explain plopping into the seat next to him. A look of sympathy flashes in Echo’s eyes. 

“Thank you for bringing him home” he says squeezing your shoulder. “Now let’s get out of here” he adds leaving you to go pilot the shuttle back to Pabu. You’re surrounded by other clones that you’ve rescued, some you’ve seen before during the war. They all greeted you with respect. A soft smile on your face as you greeted them back before telling them to try and rest. 

Once in hyperspace the rest of the batch made their way to you. Echo told them the news, and they rushed down to see for themselves. There he was asleep with you at his side. 

“She felt him” Omega quietly says. “She told me she can feel all of us in the force, regardless of the fact we’re clones. We still have a unique force signature” she adds. 

“She sent us out to make sure she was right” Crosshair tells Hunter specifically. If anyone knew you best when it came to your emotions it was him. Wrecker grins before he sits on the floor in front of you leaning back to close his eyes as well. He’s taken many hits today, and the adrenaline has finally worn off. Omega and Crosshair sit in the empty seats next to you. Omega holds your hand as she rests her head against your arm. 

“I’ll go sit with Echo for now. It’s too much to stay down here” Hunter tells them. They nod in response knowing that his senses are still extremely sensitive after Tantiss. He smiles softly before heading back to the cockpit with Echo.  

-On Pabu🌊🏝️-

A few rotations later, you were still unconscious which didn’t surprise the batch. You rarely slept since Eriadu. Tech was still unconscious as well and bound to the bed with binders. Echo got his lenses in his goggles fixed for him. Placing them on the bedside table. They each took turns rotating between your room and Tech’s. You woke up first, while Omega sat with Batcher. 

“Mom!” Omega yells throwing herself on the bed. She’s been calling you mom since the mission on Ryloth, and you cried the first time she said it. Batcher joins her, as her tail wags in excitement. Your arms wrap around her tightly as you press a kiss into her hair. Hunter enters the room his eyes meeting yours. You could feel the relief wash over him. He joins your side placing a hand on your shoulder. 

“Good to see you awake” he says with a smile. You smile back at him before letting Omega go so she can tell the others you’re awake. Your head rest against his shoulder, taking in the silence. You could tell what he was feeling without you having to communicate. 

“You’re worried about when he wakes up” you whisper. He briefly tenses before nodding. “I can help with his memory but that means I’d have to go into his mind” you tell him playing with your hands. 

“We can show him all his recordings. He’s documented everything since we were cadets” he tells you before getting up as Wrecker and Crosshair enter. A small smile is on Crosshair’s face as your eyes meet, you flash him one back. Wrecker comes over kissing the top of your head letting you know how happy he is to see you. You hear Omega and Echo yell from the next room that Tech has woken up. You spring out of bed dashing down the hall. His honey eyes meet yours, he looks confused but you slowly approach him. Despite the others protesting. You reach for his repaired goggles placing them on him. Your hands slide down his face gently cradling it. He relaxed into your touch to your surprise. You wrap him in your force signature, to make sure he stays calm. His eyes closing briefly enjoying your touch. Before that open abruptly. 

“Cyar’ika” his voice was low and hoarse. Tears fill your eyes, hearing his voice from him instead of an old recording. Your arms wrap around his neck as you begin to cry into his shoulder. Omega quickly goes over releasing him from his binders so he can wrap his arms around you. 

“Ner kar’ta” you manage to get out in between your sniffling. As you pull away he grabs you by the back of your neck pulling you in for a kiss. Pulling apart at Hunter clearing his throat. 

“Welcome back Tech” he says smirking, knowing his brother normally kept physical affection private. 

“I am glad to be back. However can anyone tell me what has happened to my ship?” Tech inquires.

“About that..” Wrecker starts, Crosshair covers his mouth before he can continue. You try to hide your laughter as Tech keeps asking about the Marauder.  No one had the heart to tell him he destroyed his own ship, at least not yet. 

🩶

Mando'a Translations: Cyar'ika: Darling

Ner Kar'ta: My heart

Tags: @bad4amficideas

[mrcaptainrex]

You Had One Job.

Crosshair x F!Wife!Reader

Word Count: 1.7K

Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Established Relationship, Dry/Rude Humor, Mentions of Blood

Summary: When Crosshair risked his life to send his brothers and wife a message, he expected them to heed his warnings. He should have known that his family never does things the way they're supposed to.

A/N: You know when you can never find a fanfic with your specific idea in mind so you write it yourself? That's what this is. This is purely self indulgent, and I'm not apologizing. Happy reading!

"Keep moving, traitor!" The trooper shouted from behind her, and pushed his blaster to her back for good measure.

"Wasn't planning on stopping, asshole." She mumbled to herself. The corridor was dark. The only real source of illumination was the blood-red ray shields containing what must have been hundreds of clone troopers. How could they do this to the men that fought for them so valiantly, not even a year prior? It disgusted her that the Empire was willing to treat its own soldiers this way.

"Stop here." One of the troopers finally barked. She stopped and turned towards the ray shield, but the cell was different than the others. It looked almost like an office. In the center of the room, a man leaned on the desk with a pleased smirk on his face. As the ray shield lifted and she was shoved in the room, she analyzed his face. He had a chiseled jawline, cold blue eyes, and slicked back hair as dark as his aura.

"Ah, the legendary Mrs. (Y/N) (L/N). How wonderful to finally meet you." He smiled. His voice was just as eerily calm as the look in his eyes. She couldn't quite place his intentions.

"Dr. Hemlock, I presume?" She asked.

He let out a slight chuckle. "I am surprised you know that. Very few do."

"Wasn't easy to find out. I actually came here to kill you, but your troopers here took my weapons." The doctor circled her menacingly, as if he was analyzing her.

Hemlock released the handcuffs strangling her wrists and motioned for her to sit. "I'm sorry they ruined your plans. But you and I both know you don't need a weapon to kill me. You could do it right now if you wanted to." As she sat tentatively, he sat on the chair opposite her side of the desk. "And it's getting ever more tempting by the moment, I bet." He teased. She forced herself to appear relaxed, but something about this man felt off.

"I have more self-restraint than that, Doctor."

"Clearly you don't have as much as you think."

"Care to elaborate?"

"Gladly." Hemlock placed a recorder before her and pressed the button.

Plan 88. They're after Om-

Plan 88. They're after Om-

Plan 88. They're after Om-

Hemlock let the transmission play a few times, allowing her husbands plea to mock her. He took pleasure in the way she became visibly uncomfortable at the sound of her husbands voice.

"I understand. It must have been hard when he abandoned you." If looks could kill, Hemlock would have been slowly crushed under the weight of a tank.

"You don't know him." She hissed. He nodded his head regretfully.

"Correct. Which is what I'm hoping you can help me with." Hemlock stood behind her and bent down so he spoke directly into her ear. "How do I get him to talk?"

"Did you try saying 'please'?" She said sarcastically.

The doctor released a heavy sigh and stood tall again. "I like you, Mrs. (L/N). You're quite funny. But humor and a pretty face will not help you here."

Despite the threat behind his words, she couldn't help but snort. "You really think I'm pretty?" This time, the Doctor did not laugh. He turned to face her again and grabbed her chin, harshly forcing her to look at him.

"Not for long." He said calmly. As he drew his hand away, the woman saw an opportunity. As hard as she could, she bit the Doctor's finger and refused to let go. His yelp of pain alerted the troopers standing guard outside the room. It took both of them to pull her teeth from his finger.

As Hemlock cradled his bleeding hand, she spat his blood and skin from her mouth with a red-stained grin. "Go fuck yourself, Doctor." The last thing she remembered was a harsh force to the back of her head, and falling to the ground.

-

Growing up, Crosshair believed there were two kinds of soldiers: brave, or stupid. Then he met his wife and learned there was a third option: ballsy. He never considered himself one to shy away from a fight, but he'd never met a woman as daring as her. That was once a trait he admired. Hell, it may even be the one that made him fall in love with her. But now, as he watched his wife's unconscious body be thrown into his prison cell, covered in the blood of a fight she undoubtedly started, he wished dearly that she was a coward.

He forced himself to stay seated on the ground until the troopers left. The moment the ray-shield reactivated, he crawled to her awakening body and held her close.

"(Y/N)? Can you hear me?" He cradled her head in his lap like she was made of glass and delicately brushed her tangled hair from her face. "Wake up, you di'kuit!" He inspected the blood seeping from her mouth, and couldn't help the proud feeling was over him as he realized it wasn't hers.

"Crosshair?" She croaked weakly. She felt like she was dreaming. After a year of being away from him, she finally lay cradled in his arms.

Upon hearing her voice, He helped her sit up and began inspecting her body for injuries. "Are you hurt?" He asked. She had never heard him speak with such concern. Sure, he'd been worried for her before. That was only natural in their line of work. But this wasn't worry. This was genuine fear.

"I'm okay," she assured him. "I'm okay." Her words calmed him. However, as his adrenaline wore off, the realization set in

"What the fuck are you doing here?!" He whispered loudly.

Well at least now she could be sure it wasn't a dream. That was definitely her Cross.

Like a child, she swatted his hands away from her face and pouted. “I was trying to save you!”

He looked around the cell, and back at her. “Well, you've done a great job, mesh’la.” He leaned back from his squatting position and sat against the wall opposite her. They stared at each other in tense silence for a moment. "You turned yourself in?"

"Please, you think these new 'stormtroopers' could bring me in by themselves?" His face expressed that he was clearly not pleased with his lovers actions.

"Could you explain to me how 'plan 88' translates to 'turn yourself in to the empire'?" He deadpanned.

She snorts. "Oh please, a warning is just a dangerous challenge."

Her carelessness did little to relieve his frustration. "Dammit, (Y/N) you had one job!" He snapped. Feeling his anger begin to take over, he took a deep breath and pinched the top of his nose. "I told you to run."

"And I told you to stay, so I guess know we're even." She rebutted bitterly. She didn't mean to say it, but the way that he reprimanded her like a child enraged her.

Her spiteful response surprised him. He went silent in shame. He never meant for any of this to happen. He wanted so desperately to go back in time. To stand in front of her on that Kaminoan platform one more time and hold her close. To tell her that he would never leave her side again. But unlike his lover, time was not so forgiving. "I'm sorry." He whispered so quietly she barely heard him.

She regretted her words as soon as she saw him shrink like a wounded dog. With a sigh, she scooted across the room until she was sitting next to him. "I really missed you." She said quietly. He looked up at her beautiful warm eyes with his own and practically melted. She cautiously rested her head on his shoulders and relished in the familiar feeling. For the first time a very long time, he allowed a tear to fall from his eyes. He couldn't bring himself to look down at her. Instead he opted to stare at the ceiling in hopes that gravity would keep his tears at bay. He didn't deserve this. Her forgiveness. He hurt her badly, and somehow she was able to act like nothing had happened. Why was she so good to him? Hesitantly, he leaned into her warmth and placed his hand over hers. When she didn't recoil, he felt a wave of emotions overcome him.

"I'm so sorry." He said quietly. "You deserve better."

She lifted her head from his shoulder and smiled up at him. "You are better." She responded.

He was sure he had never been more in love with her.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked.

Instead of responding, she gently held his face in her hands and pressed her lips to his. It wasn't like their kisses used to be - passionate and hungry. This time, his lips slowly and tenderly molded into hers with nothing but pure love. With every second that went on, his body and mind relaxed more and more. He could taste the dried blood from her mouth, but even that didn't bother him.

Suddenly, a familiar imperial alarm began sounding off, followed by emergency lights flashing. The desire in his eyes faded, and confusion took it's place. His wife, however, looked completely unfazed.

"What did you do?" He asked, almost afraid of the answer.

"Remember that digestible tracker Tech was always working on?"

"Please tell me you didn't swallow a tracker."

"He made it meiloorun flavored!" She smiled.

As if on cue, the ray shield to their cell disappeared. "They boys are right on schedule." She stood and offered him a hand to do the same. While he struggled to regain his balance, her grip on his hand remained. "Welcome back to Clone Force 99, my love."

He gawked in amazement at his wife. This woman had been tortured, abandoned, betrayed and humiliated by him. And yet here she stood, after breaking into a top secret imperial base, with her hand extended and a still-bloody smile on her face. (Where that blood came from, he still wasn't sure.) If he could marry her twice he would. "Fuck, I love you so much." He exhaled as he wrapped himself in her embrace and felt relief for the first time in a long time.

[iinafarawaygalaxii]

Star Wars | One Shot

Captain Rex x f!Reader

A Ghost For Prospect

Okay guys honestly, this just popped into my head while I was writing the fanfic and watching the newest episodes of bad batch (OMG! cries internally*) Soooo I thought Id share with the public, this will contain a couple small spoilers if you havent watched the bad batch yet and its a lil spicy so... read at your own discretion (:

MINORS DNI 18+

Summary: Captain Rex needs information for the sake of Omega and the remainder of the clones being tapped and tortured. He had no choice but to search for you, one of the most dangerous bounty hunters in the settled systems and best information brokers in the galaxy. Knowing he didnt have the money to pay you off, he offered other ways to get the information he needed to save his family...

Warnings: 18+ Minors you should've stopped reading at the red

Word Count: 5.3k

Notes: I totally didnt proof read, my apologies. I left it on a cliff hanger because Im still debating on a part 2. Let me know if thats something yall would want!

Enjoy :D

After Omegas escape from Tantiss, the situation to save the clones and the galaxy from the empire grew more desperate. With the Captains headquarters destroyed from the enemies pursuit and now has lost more of his brothers- even the ones he saved that were killed by the blast, EVERYTHING started to crumble. Though because of this deadly sacrifice he now had evidence of the tests being administered to the clones, along with the mention of project 'x' and the need for m-count individuals, but still... no dots were connecting. What he needed was information, which made the finest soldier from the clone wars feel uneasy. 

Ever since order 66 the universe didn't make sense anymore. The lines drawn between good and evil became blurred when he learned what it was like to live free from a shackled organization, making his job... just that much harder. There was too much of a grey area with who or what to save, when or where to be- for instance, what he's doing now, bargaining with one of the most dangerous bounty hunters and information brokers in the galaxy.

You

The Captain stood with two other troopers before you, each their own unique persona. The soldier in blue with golden hair aged like the finest wine in the Corellian systems nearly made your mouth drop. Even just a glance at his build meant he cared for his body as much as his mission, standing stoic and resolved.... The way he looked at you with those honey brown eyes in caution though his gaze  remained soft and calm left you curious for more than wear. His look was formatted by a subtly of fearlessness that almost felt intimidating, showing you he meant business. Though, you did have to admire the man... tracking you down was not an easy feat and the way he waltzed in without hesitation unafraid of the deadly figures around him, turned you on.

The other troopers however, despite being clones, were extremely different. One in black armor had a socket arm in replacement of his own. The weird tubing and wiring attached to his head and neck meant he was either an experiment or a tool. His original color completely faded to a sickly white making you wonder if death itself stood at your door. Either way, he looked extremely sickly which was bad for business and the other well- he shared the captains same demeanor standing with the same amount of caution as they approach you, awaiting your recognition as you take a long gander at his slicked back hair and his muscles nearly protruding out of armor that seems like it lost its touch a while ago. He looked as standard as the clones come when first created nonetheless his sculpted brawny chest and shoulders meant he could probably lift you with ease, amongst other things.

Though you wouldn't doubt it, 

As you sat on the edge of the bar with a bottle of whiskey in hand basking in the warmth of the two suns that lit the planet dry. Your hideout or what the other women call the 'safe house' on Tatooine was directly built on an oasis. A towering open dome for natural lighting with the oasis itself directly in the middle that supplied not only water but bared fruit enough to feed the lot of them. Plants from all over the galaxy were found climbing the walls as if they'd been here for ages, thriving in an unfamiliar home just as much as the women you've brought and saved. It almost seemed like a vacation coming here after your missions and bounties. Surrounded by the finest women bounty hunters and the girls you've graciously saved across the galaxy. All in one spot enjoying the fruits of your labor. The women there looked up to you not only as a leader but as a dangerous figure not to be trifled with- filled with the upmost respect a single person can recieve. 

You were praised and well guarded. 

So when clones show up at your front door asking for something as trivial as information, it made you and the others laugh- hysterically. The eruption making the three soldiers look around in confusion, postering as if they missed something hearing the laughs grow into silence as you spoke up, "Do you know who I am trooper?”, You asked the man in blue hopping of the bar, regretfully, treading closer to him with the bottle of whiskey still in hand. "I do. If I'm not mistaken... They call you Ghost?"

You smiled

Taking a long swig of the bottle in hand before passing it off to one of the bartenders walking past. Your crew had their eyes glued on the men, ready to whip out their blasters on your command should anything or one cause trouble, leaving you worry free as you approach the soldier in your tipsy state. Most of the time, men crumble under the pressure each step you take towards them.... But not this man. Standing inches from him without a single reaction and although he had some height on you, 6 inches give or take, You favorite phrase came to mind...'The taller they are the harder they fall'. You leaned in with a flirty smile admiring his tenacity but with caution as you whispered, "Do you know why they call me that?", in his ear. You wanted to make him nervous as any man or creature who came in asking for the same things- to really test how badly they want that information and for a slight jest of play to assess them as a whole. You began to trace your fingers up his chest piece watching him, watch you. "No...", He uttered lowly and to your surprise he didn't react your touch at all. The gravity of his situation may be more intense than you thought, though it still didn't change anything. You were known as not only the most nefarious but the most devious of all hunters, next to Cad Bane. Using not only your charm and body to get answers but your mind and bronze to create beautiful plans to execute, to get the best rewards out of your missions and to be honest given his demeanor?

It made you want to break him 

In a blink of an eye you were gone, as if your presence there was just a illusion, tracing your finger alongside his back tck-ing from the disappointed response. "Its because the people I deal with seem to just.... disappear with me...". Though the words did not shock him. He knew what he was getting into the moment he ended up on your doorstep. Even with this in mind he still came which made you admire him more. You knew he was here to do business. You giggled trotting off to a large black velvet chair in the center of the room, a couple of twileks bringing you a martini made from one of the finest alcohols in the system. "Please... Help yourselves..." you waved your hand towards the soldiers, the twileks bringing them the same drinks who cautiously accepted them. The captain however… had little time for such niceties placing the glass on the table next to him as he made his way to the edge of the steps before you. "Thank you but ill decline. I came here seeking information. Can you help us or not?", He firmly asked. 

There was something about him- fearless, that turned you on. A malicious grin rose on your face as you tilted you head to announce that, "Everything comes with a price.", sipping the delicious drink that was made for the event, wondering what the man truly had to offer to be worth your time. "Im aware, name it." The troopers in the back finished theirs, bringing a suitcase full of credits up to the captain awaiting for their next order. You nodded for the twileks to check and count them ensuring their validity. After a moment of silence and a quick nod to you, you smiled asking what he needed “go on then…” you replied as you rested, listening to his request.

"The Empire is taking and torturing clones across the galaxy. They’re also after M-count individuals and my sources say youve hunted them and work closely with a man named Royce Hemlock. I need to know… where hemlock is stationed, what project X is, and the need for the m-count individuals”

Your face remained calm pausing between his request as you process whether it was worth* giving him that information. On top of that, what he requested could lead to dangers down the road which, in turn, would effect you and your... business as a whole. You didn’t want that type of attention.  "What you've given does not suffice for the information you requested”, You sipped your drink again twirling the orange liquid in your glass with a snide smile wondering how much you could squeeze out of him before you give anything as you watched his brows furrow with anger. In truth, he didnt need to know about project X, in fact no one does not even you because A: it doesnt concern you and B: no one knows about it....except maybe the man in front of you. But since you already knew his true goal from the spies you had under your thumb, it wasnt a sprise for him to ask such questions. However it wasnt worth the risk. Not to mention… information these days are just- expensive. It was wiser to get your moneys worth if you accept the risk. "Besides, thats not what youre really after…. You want to know the locations of the bases your brothers are free them and build an army large enough to ‘free the galaxy’, right?”, Your response sent a shock wave through the troopers. How did you know their plan?  Not to toot you’re own horn but- youre well… you

 "I imagine Omega is the prime target for the empire at the moment as well... considering how high her bounty is. My guess is... the m-count individual their after is her-" You paused tapping your cheek with curiosity grinning maliciously, "-Almost took it myself actually..." 

The captain placed a hand over his blaster forcing all the other bounty hunters to bring up theirs as everyone stood in a standstill waiting for blood to spill, "Calm down... Calm down-", You gestured your hands for everyone to sit and relax as you went to lean back in your chair with your legs crossed. "Theres no need for violence... Right, captain?", You raised your glass watching him slowly move away from his gun as you nodded finishing off your drink. "Right....", he uttered looking around to the other hunters who took their seats ready to pounce when the word is spoken. "Right. Anyways. I cannot give you what you offer.", You smiled, placing your glass on the stand next to you, getting up to take your leave before you heard footsteps behind and was captured by the wrist tightly, unable to move. 

The action pissed you off. 

You slowly turned back; the hunters who already captured the other two troopers are at gunpoint, had them on their knees behind making you glare up to the captain in pure rage. His grip grew tighter as the other hunters waited for your order for execution with over 30 blasters pointed your way. To kill or not to kill. "Please...", He begged and though you felt the sense of urgency you couldn't just let him go after that. It was time to make it very clear who you are. You quickly captured his arm bending it backwards. The action making him fall to one knee as you quickly grabbed his blaster at the same time, pinning it at his throat. You traced your lips across his neck hearing him groan from the pressure you were putting on his arm till you reached his ear growling to, "Never...touch me like that again….", and thus.... you had a choice, shoot the ignorant man or let him go. Though you didn’t want unnecessary death on your hands so the latter was chosen, flipping the blaster back into his holder and releasing your grip on his arm as he went to rub his shoulder. You nodded to the hunters to release the men having them thrown the heavy weights on the ground before you next to the captain. Their state? Pathetic. Their mission? Understandable. You weighed your options understanding that this war is what actually fuels you, enabling you to havee what you had today. If you stopped giving information now that would destroy your whole purpose. Plus...

Money

The devious smile returned to your face as you look down to the Captain whos eyes were set for murder, not making any action until you. Like a good boy. You kneeled down to him, cupping his cheek- inviting him to your office for being able to stand up to you which no ones ever dared to do.  simple reward really, gesturing for them to, "Follow me...” gesturing for them to trail behind as the twileks grabbed their helmets setting them at the entrance of your hideout, leading both you and the troopers to the upper floors. Upon entering the Captain was met with a sight to behold. The finest furniture some even lined with gold, in a giant open room. A wall area facing towards the sunset completely gone leading to an outside to a deck to overlook your resort. The beautiful trees sprouting from the crystal clear water in the center almost touched the deck itself allowing people to pick the natural fruits that grew. Your bedroom was attached to the office as well as the bathroom in an open concept layout with the ability to walk anywhere freely without a door. 

The twileks offered them seats though the captain preferred to stand watching you lean against the front desk as he waited for everyone to get comfortable. It was mentioned of your beauty across the star field but... not to this extent. The way your skin color highlighted the beauty in your eyes and how your hair waved from the light breeze coming in... it was hard for him not to be attracted to you. Considering you were in your leisure wear, a thin, airy dress that had no problem revealing your curves made the captain almost think it was a mistake coming here. Though you'd made sure he'd think otherwise before he left. After all amongst all the troopers you had seen and killed he was the finest of them all. 

You folded your arms learning against the front of the desk as you informed them that "What you paid.... is very little but because im feeling... generous-" You smirked answering his question sparingly as you walked slowly towards your desk tracing your fingers along the guest chairs that sat in front. The long pause leaving the captain in suspense as he follows captivated by your movement, “I will give you this... Yes Hemlock wants Omega but thats because his project cannot be completed without her or someone with a similar m count. Though Im not sure what the project is for, its practically...necromancy." 

"necromancy....what do you mean?"

"I dont know. Not my field of expertise but i will tell you that they will find omega with whatever or whomever it takes. Even me. Though my prices are high..." You checked your nails panning a malicious grin to the troopers who were all glaring from the comment ready to put the infamous ghost out on the spot, even if it meant risking their lives... "Don't worry boys, Just a joke. I don't hunt children...." One of the twileks handed you a pad gesturing them to bring 2 others from your safe. "This, however, Is what I can give you. Everything else....-“, you nodded over to the suitcase full of credits, “-You gotta pay." You winked as you handed the captain a slate with all the troopers under hemlocks experiments seeing not only the survivors but the ones who succumbed to the villainous torture. 

He closed his eyes and sighed, sad he couldn't free them from suffering before they passed making his mission much more critical. Even you could see that. He continued swiping through the data realizing that this only contained information about the troopers with non disclosed locations and nothing else. "Where were these troopers stationed..?" He asked you, raising an eyebrow. Though it was trivial to continue the conversation... a part of you genuinely wanted to help but you remained silent. "Ghost...-" he took a step forward, his troopers looking to each other as they watch the situation unfold with you perched up on your desk. Your hands bolstering you forward, presenting the strongest qualities of yourself. You tilted your head watching him inch closer to you, "Yes...?"

“Tell me…”

You saw a man solidified in his ideals, desperate for answers as anything beyond what he had would suffice at this point- and you knew that. As devious at it sounds, the real question was… payment. You opened your legs, scooting to the edge of the desk to get a closer look as you slide your hands up his chest piece to test his morals, wondering how you could slither past those values and take them apart...piece by piece. He watched your every move, wary but oddly turned on by the interaction waiting for you to make your next move as the troopers behind stood ready to shoot inching closer in fear for their leader- begging for a fight with one of their biggest enemies-

You. 

Bitting your lips, you gaze up to his eyes seeing them low and curious which was the perfect time to incite the siren in you. You slid your leg up the captains watching his walls break one by one as you felt his heart beat through the chest piece, “and… what will you give me?” 

“Anything”

He responded instantly bringing that same grin to your face recognizing that he was falling into your spell and like the vixen you are… it was very much obliged. “Anything?” You raised an eyebrow, reaching for the clip to his chest piece to pull yourself forward, whispering in his ear as you felt his hands creep up your thighs sending waves of electricity throughout your body with the hidden slit in your skimpy now revealing your soft skin below, his thoughts began to capsize making him get that much closer to falling into your trap. 

“Anything…” He uttered low and slow as he panned back to his troopers nodding towards the door to indicate that they leave with you ordering the twileks in their language to treat the clones with 'upmost hospitality'.... and a room for the night. The girls mischievous grin matched their leaders as they delivered the clones out of the room, flirting and offering drinks downstairs at the bar with the rest of the women fully igniting the sirens nest as it became fully active with new toys to play with. 

As the blaster door closed behind the captain redirected his attention to you as you patiently analyzed the man gripping your thighs. It had been long since youve been with someone and the moment you first laid eyes on him he had already been caught in your web of desires. There was something about him that seemed dominating.... like- every other man you came across who failed to live up to your expectations left you blue and disappointed but, this one? Seemed much different. 

"Take off your gear"

You ordered watching him finish unclipping his chest piece you so graciously started followed by his shoulder pads and gauntlets pausing before he set his twin blasters on the table next to you. Him purposefully reaching past you at close proximity to give you a good look of who you were messing with, making you smile with determination- admiring his tenacity to front you as if it were childs play. The man was experienced. Things just kept getting better and better, keeping you much incited watching him take the rest of his gear off down to his blacks. You crossed your legs bringing your hand to your jaw as you inspect the man before you. 

You pointed to him twirling your fingers in circles to indicate he take off the rest but was only met with half a response. He never left your eyes throwing his shit to the ground revealing his worked muscles and battle scars. This wasnt the body of just any man. It was a warriors. Chiseled down to the smallest fiber of muscle, he was extremely built for his size and you could tell from the scars and healing wounds that it wasnt for show. Compared to your body, each scar you carried had a story... making you wondering more and more what his were. 'Hes intriguing...-'

You scoffed

Amazed you could be so into someone within hours of meeting. Most men was out of lust, or a result of the drunk in you and never really meant anything nor have you ever cared. But this man...clone- he was the type of different you didnt know you liked and now? It was time to test how just how strong he is. You hopped off the desk, this time pacing to him as both your eyes locked in a dance, treading carefully around him. You first look at his chest, seeing 2 or 3 scars and a couple wounds, but the one that intrigued you the most was the one over his heart, raising your hand to touch the withered scar. "A near death experience I see?", You raised an eyebrow smiling but was not returned in kind. "It was a long time ago.." He stated averting his eyes forward as he delved into his memory of the blast that left him incapacitated for a few weeks. Not something he enjoyed reflecting on as you continued patrolling around him bringing yourself back to where you started. You had counted 10 scars in total, most of them new but the one that intrigued you the most was the one on his chest. Though, getting that story out of him would be complicated given his state. 

So to spice things up; Since Tattoine's suns were now at the horizon... leaving the planet in its evening golden state, it was the perfect time to return the favor. You faced towards the balcony, your back against him, feeling the warm breeze swoop in as you inhaled the gentle smell of fruits and fragrances that inundated the room. You slid the straps of your summer dress down making it drop to the floor with ease. Beneath revealed your secrets. Dark blue lingerie built into a harness carrying various versions of knives on your thighs, upper arms, and waist band. The rest? Open skin and to his shock? A multitude of deep, penetrating scars across your body some that looked extremely deadly and others... The burn on your thigh covered by a krayt dragon tattoo, revealed your finite curves and breasts. Though you were wearing a bra and panties that are see through (if you close enough) wondering which area he would choose to look, noticing his eyes carrying to the burn on your thigh and the tattoo that shields it. 

"Nal Hutta..." you uttered as you start to disarm yourself. The captain put his hands behind his back still holding composure as he listened-  watched as you place your weapons on the desk lined up neatly next to his blasters and when you turned around you could feel his eyes burning on you. No doubt on the thong that revealed your toned appendages to him. Large and jelly like- it was what most men went for making you wonder if he was an ass or tits type of guy. Nevertheless... you finally drop the harness on the dress below your feet leaving you only in your underwear and panties. "I was releasing some twileks who were illegally traded, actually those two girls who were here are from that raid. Tanker blew up during rescue, barbecued my thigh-", You paused briefly, slapping your thigh to make it jiggle. The action making the captain raise a brow as he continued to listen with anticipation as the blood started rushing through his body watching you jiggle before him. You folded your arms and continued,"-Lucky for me, I had hired a bounty hunter who knew how to tattoo. The Krayt Dragon here on tattooine-?" You paused again turning around to see his regain his composure, making you grin at the sight of him losing it. "They're ferocious creatures not to be trifled with but hunted for rare pearls inside them. Kinda like all of us here..." 

The malicious grin that sprawled on your face. Officially warning him of where he is though it didnt phase him at all. He remained still, listening...waiting. Now left in your undergarments you slowly walked up to the captain tracing your fingers along his chest while looking up with lewd eyes to get him to break. "So captain...whats your story?", your traced your finger along his chest scar only to be captured by the wrist yet again, as he grew tired of the stalling. 

"And whats your game?"

He asked, as you furrowed your eyebrows and was caught by surprise when he lifted you onto him slamming you onto the desk behind making some of your knives fall to the ground. You looked up to him, your arms around his neck as he growled in your ear, "If you want me to fuck you just say it" You were stunned seeing this type of impulse come so randomly and out of the blue. It was unexpected but to your surprise you liked it and it turned you on. "Say it...", the lust now oozing from him, seeing the bulge in his blacks grow larger and larger. But you were still caught up in the moment, wanting to be absolutely dominated by this man at all costs and to be honest....you think he already caught on as rash as he has been these last couple of minutes, he started by ripping your bra off to reveal your hardened nipples, his tell sign to continue. He looked down, cupping your breast in his burley, hands squeezing hard. A moan escaped your lips, "Say it...", he utters squeezing again.

His order turned into a demand 

Now controlling the mood and the situation as you throw your head back enjoying his touch. Feeling yourself pool below, begging to be ravaged. You shot your hand up to his. stopping him in place as you brought a vicarious look to shadow his own, "If you want all the information requested... You're going to have to do a lot better than this... Captain", and though they weren't the words he needed, you had spoken. Rex pushed you down and slid your panties off, throwing your legs over his shoulders. The hand holding your breast now sliding down to meet his other at your hips as he kneeled down in front of the desk and started to devour you. Swirling his tongue over your jewel suckling at the sensitive flesh. Each circle of his tongue sent waves of pleasure throughout your body. An ecstasy you hadnt felt in so so long. He spread your thighs with his finger tips for better access as he feasted on your juices known to be every gentleman’s favorite until you unraveled.

"C-captain!"

You gasped, now gripping his head while furrowing your brows trying to maintain whatever dignity you had left, feeling the walls inside you begin to tighten and pulse. When he shoved two fingers inside of you, pressing on your special spot over and over you began to coo his name over and over, now holding your breath- closer to climax, "Don't stop..." You ordered only for him to refuse it, stopping directly in his tracks as he hovered before you. "If were going to do this, we are doing it my way...", He flipped you around aggressively. The shock forced your hands to slam against the desk for stability, enjoying how rough he was getting with you as you panned back to see him pull his bottoms down revealing his throbbing shaft pulsing for release. "Whatever you say..." you groaned, the juices dripping down your thigh as he spent not a second to waste shoving himself inside. 

"Mmmm-ssss" It was slow at first, his brows furrowed in tune with the moans escaping his lips as he threw his head back starting the thrust little by little. He felt enormous, filling all of you inside not regretting a second as he continued thrusting against your tight walls pressing against your cervix. He lifted your hips now pile driving you into the desk. Each thrust sent never ending jolts through your body making even your cheeks jiggle. The wet sounds from both your skin and juices now filled the silence as the ecstasy starting to grow uncontrollably. Between his grip, feeling all the pent up anger that had built since the clone ways ended, and the way his hips rocked against yours the devilish scene carried into carnage. He started panhandling you, whipping you around and fucking you in the air with only the slaps of your skin and moans filling in the silence. 

-Sounds that can be heard from all over the dome 

hearing you call his name over and over again, fucking you as if you were the last peerson on earth available to him. You could tell its been a while for him too but seeing that face, the anger and the lust lost in translation of each other, blending into this perfect moment you were sharing until his beautiful brown eyes met yours. Just the way he looked at you, like a lion ready to feast on its pray made your walls tightened again, the climax almost at its peak as the captain started pulsing inside you. "Where...", he asked slamming you back down on the desk throwing one of your legs around him as he continues thrusting. "Anywhere....", you managed to slip out only for him to pump into you three more times before he shot his seed all over your body. Thread after thread of warm white liquid graced your skin, sending goosebumps in contrast of the cold air between. He collapsed above you, using a arm to hold himself up as you both took a moment to capture your breaths.

It had been a while, a very long while since Rex got to feel someone so amazing. It had even been so long since he touched himself, all that cum thats been building... He wanted to leave his mark somewhere elsee too. He reeinserted himself saving the last beads of white for you as he cuppeed your lower back bringing you in for a kiss "Yeah Captain?" still feeling him pulse while his eyes were closed, riding out his high as the pace slowed putting one last pump before pulling out watching the reeaminder drain out of you. 

"Yeah...", He said, now locked into your eyes seeing he wasn't quiet done. He looked over seeing the bed in the open concept room and panned back to you. The devious look in both your eyes led to a night full of ambition and lust. You tried to get up only for him to throw you over his shoulder and drop you in the bed. "Who said we were done?"

[dystopicjumpsuit]

because I’m a greedy ho, may I also request:

the hands. on the waist. oh my god.

with Neyo 👀🫣 do not perceive me pls

A/N: My friend. When I tell you that this awoke me out of a dead sleep in the middle of the night last night. I instantly bumped it to the top of the queue. Who has deadlines? NOT THIS SIMP! Please enjoy, and thank you for the ask!

Pairing: Commander Neyo x Reader (GN)

Rating: T but minors DNI as always

Wordcount: 1,556

Warnings and tags: fluff; minor injury; mention of blood; kissing; Neyo identifies as a warning

Summary: Marshal Commander Neyo takes his favorite medic for a ride. It’s not as sexy as it sounds… or is it?

Masterlist | Sign up for my tag list

“Commander, we’ve lost contact with CT-2639 on the eastern perimeter.”

Marshal Commander Neyo swiveled his head, pulling away from your hands as you cleaned the cut on his forehead. Head wounds always bled like a mudscuffer, and this one had made an unbelievable mess, but it wasn’t severe enough to be life-threatening. You silently followed his movement, continuing to work as Neyo replied to the trooper.

“Send a BARC trooper to reinforce his position,” Neyo snapped, clearly irritated that the situation had not already been handled several rungs down the command ladder.

“They’re all out on scouting missions, sir,” the trooper said nervously.

Neyo nodded shortly, then turned back to you. “You, medic. Grab a medkit. You’re coming with me.”

It galled you slightly that he hadn’t bothered to learn your name, even though he had refused to allow any of the other medics in the 91st treat him since the first time you’d patched him up months ago, but given that he was one of the highest-ranking clones in the GAR, you weren’t about to call him out.

“Yes, sir,” you replied, quickly sealing the laceration with a spray bandage. Luckily, you were nearly finished treating him before the trooper had interrupted; otherwise, you had no doubt the commander would have simply shoved his bucket back onto his bloody head and jumped on a BARC speeder.

You shrugged the heavy medpack onto your back and followed Neyo to a BARC speeder with an auxiliary stretcher, watching him nervously, dread swirling in your gut.

“Well?” he asked, his tone clipped and impatient.

“I’m not speeder trained, sir. Sorry, sir,” you admitted, hoping that he wouldn’t reassign you to a different unit as he tended to do when his subordinates weren’t up to his frankly unrealistic standards.

His sigh was audible through his helmet’s speaker. “Climb on the back.”

“Sir?” you asked, startled. It was going to be one hell of a tight fit on a speeder designed for one.

“Secure the medpack to the bike and get the kriff on,” he growled. “We don’t have all day.”

“Yes, sir,” you said, snapping rigidly to attention.

You squeezed in behind him, trying very hard not to think about the way his hips pressed your thighs open, or the way his strong back felt against your chest as you wrapped your arms around him and hung on for dear life. The BARC speeder was unbelievably fast, and the landscape whizzed by in a dizzying blur as Neyo expertly navigated to CT-2639’s last known position. The bike turned abruptly, and you unconsciously tightened your arms harder around his torso. He dropped his hand briefly from the controls and settled it over yours, adjusting your position so you gripped his belt instead of the slick plastoid of his chestplate, then raised it back to the handlebar.

The bike slowed as you approached your destination, sweeping the terrain for any sign of the missing sentry. A flash of white and red plastoid at the bottom of a ravine drew Neyo’s eye.

“There.”

The speeder came to a halt, and you jumped off, grabbing the medpack and running to the downed trooper. He was unconscious, but his vitals were strong enough—for the moment—and Neyo helped you stabilize his spine as you carefully transferred and secured the patient to the stretcher on the side of the BARC.

“Bike isn’t powerful enough to carry three,” Neyo said as he mounted the speeder.

You nodded in understanding. “Yes, sir. I’ll make my way back on foot. He needs more care than I can give him here, and the base medics are equipped for it.”

“Negative. Hold position here. I’ll send someone to extract you.”

“Yes, sir.” You hesitated, and Neyo looked up at you, his helmet blocking his expression—not that you’d ever been particularly good at reading the commander’s cold, hard eyes. “What’s his name?”

Neyo was silent for a beat. “Boey.” His helmet tilted as he surveyed you from head to toe, as if suddenly realizing he was about to ditch you in an active war zone without armor or weapons. He handed you his DC-15 and climbed back onto the speeder. “Try not to get killed.”

Luckily, no battle droids appeared to ruin your day. You didn’t have to wait long before you heard the whine of a speeder approaching your position, but you were surprised to see not one, but two BARCs appear, and one of them was the commander himself. He drew to a halt, and you immediately surrendered the blaster to him. The other trooper looked back and forth between you and Neyo, but stayed silent.

“Boey?” you asked.

“He’ll make it,” Neyo replied, sliding forward to make space for you. “Get on.”

You obeyed, feeling very thankful that it was a short trip to the base as you once again straddled Neyo’s hips and tried to think unsexy thoughts. 

For kriff’s sake, he doesn’t even know my name. He’s kind of a dick. Why am I like this? Maybe when he reassigns me for not having achieved every single karking qualification in the GAR, I’ll end up in the 212th—if I’m going to have an unprofessional and inappropriate crush on a superior officer, Commander Cody seems like a nice, safe choice. Why do I always seem to go for the dicks? Some mysteries may never be solved.

Neyo started up the speeder and took off at top speed, leaving the other BARC trooper behind to secure the position. Unfortunately for your sanity, it seemed that Neyo had decided to inspect the entire perimeter, because there was no sign of the base anywhere, and the ride seemed interminable. As you gradually became accustomed to the speed of the bike, you tore your eyes away from the center of his back and began to look around at the landscape as you hurtled through the air.

It was actually a beautiful planet, when there wasn’t an active battle going on. Neyo drew the bike to a halt at the edge of a cliff with a stunning view out over the lush forest. He pulled off his helmet and set it on the bike, then dismounted, holding out his hand to assist you off the speeder.

When you met his eyes, they were as hard, cold, and unreadable as ever, and you couldn’t help wondering if he’d decided to just dropkick you off the cliff instead of bothering with the hassle of reassignment paperwork. Well, if this view was the last thing you ever saw, you couldn’t deny that it was breathtaking.

“What is this place?” you asked, unable to keep the awe out of your voice.

“Western perimeter. Cliff provides a natural defense.”

You looked down over the cliff and immediately regretted your decision, feeling dizzy and lightheaded at the distance to the bottom. You swayed dangerously, and Neyo grabbed you by the waist and pulled you back from the edge, your back colliding with his armored chest.

“Damn, that’s a… hell of a drop,” you managed to say. 

“Mm-hmm,” he agreed, his voice low and close to your ear.

You couldn’t resist asking, “Is this where you dispose of medics who don’t know how to ride speeders?” 

“What?” You felt his head turn as he observed you closely. “Why the kriff would I expect a medic to be BARC speeder certified? Do you know how much training BARC troopers have?”

You cleared your throat, trying not to dwell on how very, very close he was; or the deep, quiet rumble of his voice next to your ear; or the way his hands still rested on your waist. “So… you’re not going to reassign me?”

“I should,” he said quietly.

Your heart plummeted and your stomach twisted. You stared down at the ground in front of you, desperately trying to hide your embarrassment and disappointment.

One of his hands slid forward, flattening over your belly and pulling your body back against him. You felt the rough fabric of his glove move softly across your jaw as he tilted your face toward him with his other hand. His thumb brushed your lips, and then his hand drifted down to rest at the base of your throat, your pulse racing wildly beneath the gentle pressure.

“I shouldn’t—” His lips were so close to yours that you felt his breath ghost over your skin as he spoke. “—with a subordinate…”

You couldn’t tear your gaze away from his mouth. It was all you could see as you whispered, “You’re a marshal commander. Everyone is your subordinate.”

He drew a shallow breath, but made no move to close the tiny distance between you. The moment stretched out unbearably, until at last you could no longer resist the temptation. The tip of your tongue barely grazed the corner of his mouth before he snapped, crashing his lips into yours, clutching your body against his as though, if he only held you tightly enough, he could feel your warmth through the cold, unyielding plastoid of his armor. He kissed you with a passion that left you breathless and reeling, and when at last his lips parted from yours, he nuzzled your face gently as he whispered your name.

“Wait…” you breathed. “You know my name?”

For the first time since you’d met him, Neyo smiled. “I’ve always known.”

---

Want some spicy Neyo content? Check out my fics Everybody Hates Neyo Part 1 and Part 2!

[hellfiresky]

How to Grow a Mangosteen Tree

Season: Spring - Clone × Reader Prompt-a-thon - @cloneficgiftexchange

Image source: my pride and joy, my own garden lol.

Summary: You let a Republic Commando into your garden with a 50/50 chance of ending up a dead body - and instead, he’s fixing your overwatered orchids, roasting your plant choices, and dropped war stories over iced caf.

Prompt: Using downtime to help X plant or maintain their garden

Pairing: Captain Gregor x GN!Reader Word count: 4105 Warnings: Lots of curse words

Taglist: @orangez3st @msmeredithrose

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

There was nothing better than sitting on your balcony garden in the morning. Especially at 0600 where the city hadn’t fully woken up yet, and the air wasn’t clogged with speeder exhaust smoke. Chores done, caf brewed, portable computer open, inbox overflowing. You typed out a few replies, shot off a couple invoices (clients still pretending ‘exposure’ pays the rent - get fucked), all while keeping an eye on your alocasias. Because of course, the mealybugs and spider mites were back. You clicked your tongue in irritation, fingers brushing the velvety leaves. The bastards had a personal vendetta against you, you were sure of it. At least the tomato plant was thriving! Because the smell of its leaves mixed with the earthy scent of damp soil was delightful. The spinach was almost ready for harvesting, same with the cabbage. The aubergines? Yeah, another fucking failure. Tricky little shits.

You stretched and yawned in your chair. Yeah, you made the right choice renting this apartment. Corner unit, bigger-than-average balcony, perfectly positioned to catch the morning light. A rare find in Fobosi District, a neighbourhood that still had character despite being just a few tax hikes away from gentrification. You’d have to head down to the farmer’s market soon - your aubergine vines needed new sticks to climb, and even though they probably wouldn’t produce anything you weren’t about to let them tangle into a mess again. Then, ping. Inbox. Meeting in an hour.

"Great. Just fucking great." You ran a hand on your face. Working as a freelance interior designer on Coruscant was its own kind of battlefield. You might not be out there blasting droids, but at this point, you’d take a firefight over negotiating with clients who thought ‘friend prices’ applied when they met you once at a networking event. "Bro, we didn’t even know each other a year ago!" You muttered at the screen.

A cough cut through your morning grumblings.

You craned your neck, peering through the thick curtain of greenery - Monsteras and Philodendrons lightly dancing in the breeze, spiky fire pineapples nestled in their pots, clusters of bluebell squish spilling over the railing. The voice had come from the street below, somewhere past the leafy barricade.

“Hey, are those millaflowers and—wait, is that a mangosteen tree?”

Standing up, you squinted through the gaps in your plants. Below, a man stood on the sidewalk, looking up at you. A familiar face - because, yeah, there were millions of them running around. He had the look of a soldier on leave with that GAR-branded black compression shirt, joggers, hair slicked back with fades on the sides. But still carried himself like an active duty trooper. “Hey, there you are,” he called again. “Are those millaflowers and a mangosteen tree?” He pointed. You followed his gaze to your millaflower bush spilling out of its hanging planter, and the sad little baby mangosteen in its polybag, no taller than a five-year-old. “Ah, yeah,” you replied, leaning against the railing. “Got them from a friend who just got back from Naboo. And the mangosteen was from…” You did a quick glance over your shoulder, and dropped your voice to a conspiratorial tone. “A pirate who just came back from Toshara.” You winked.

The man let out a short chuckle, shaking his head. “Heh. S’alright. Not gonna tell anyone.” Then, instead of moving on, he stepped a little closer, tilting his head to get a better look at your balcony. “Are those Kolvissh from Kashyyyk?” His eyebrows raised. “Wait, and those are pitcher plants?”

You lifted your caf cup to your lips, masking your grin. Yeah, this guy wasn’t just passing curiosity. He had his clone trooper tactical assessment going on - except instead of scanning enemy formations, he was cataloguing your fucking plants. “Yes and yes,” you took another sip. The cup was patterned with little illustrations of jaw plants - one of your favourite carnivorous species. If they weren’t deadly, you’d have smuggled some for the balcony. The man hummed, folding his arms. “You keen about plants?”

“You could say that. You?”

“Mhm.” He smirked. “Used to help my boss with his garden. Back when I worked at a diner.”

"A diner?" Your eyes widened at the unexpected statement.

He laughed at your expression. “Yeah, long story. Also, didn’t know shit about decorative plants until my missions to Kashyyyk. And that one special op on Koboh.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “That was… a weird mission.”

You raised an eyebrow. He only grinned, not elaborating. Moving his attention to your vegetable patch, he chimed again. “Your tomatoes are ready to harvest, by the way. And the red spinach is starting to bolt, you gonna let that happen?”

You looked over your shoulder. He was right.

“Huh. Good eye.”

“Got some time?” he gestured vaguely at the balcony. “Could use something to do on my day off.”

“Oh, so you’re volunteering for gardening duty?”

“Heh. Could say that.” Another grin that gave way to a couple of boyish dimples stretched across his face.

“Are you gonna murder me, frame it as a robbery, and kidnap my exotics from the plant room?” You squinted at him, tapping your fingers against your caf cup. The sunkissed trooper barked out a laugh. “Damn. Y’got the whole crime scene planned out already? Heh.” He folded his arms. “Listen, if I was gonna rob you, I’d be way smarter about it. Wouldn’t be out here admiring the greenery in broad daylight. That’s amateur.”

“Oh? And you’d wait ‘til midnight?”

“Nah, nah, that’s when people expect criminals.” He clicked his tongue, shaking his head like he was disappointed in your lack of tactical thinking. “See, the real move is to dress up as a delivery guy. Y’know, wear a vest, carry a clipboard. People see clipboards and vests, they don’t ask questions. ‘Oh, he must be official. He’s got paperwork.’ Then, boom - plants are gone, and nobody even remembers seeing me.”

You stared at him.

“Dude.”

He gave you a wide, shit-eating grin. “Yeah?”

“That’s… way too specific.”

The man let out another laugh. “Alright, alright - relax, I ain't stealin’ your plants. I just spent months gettin’ shot at, pretty sure I can find a better way to spend my time off than committing horticultural heists.”

“Good. ‘Cause if you did steal from me, I’d track you down.”

“Oho, that I don’t doubt,” he pointed a finger at you. “You’ve got that I will find you, and I will fuck up your whole day energy. Respect.”

“Damn right.”

There was a comfortable pause. A speeder whooshed by in the distance. Somewhere down the street, someone was shouting at their droid about a delivery mix-up. The trooper in front of your balcony’s railing shifted his weight onto one foot, looking back at your balcony.

“So,” he drawled. “How do I prove I’m not about to rob you blind? Y’gonna make me take an oath? Sign a contract?”

“Mm. Nope. You gotta pass a trial.” You actually considered that. 

“Oh, a trial? Damn. Alright, hit me. What’s the challenge?”

You pointed to the mealybugs infesting your alocasia.

“Fix that without killing the plant.”

The trooper followed your gaze, then let out a low whistle. “Damn. You weren’t kidding. That’s an infestation.” He narrowed his eyes at the fuzzy white clumps, rubbing his chin. “Aight. No killing the plants.” He clicked his tongue. “Okay. Soap and water’s good, but a little isopropyl alcohol on a cotton swab’ll knock ‘em out faster. Plus, gotta check the soil. Could be eggs in there. Heh.”

You crossed your arms. “Huh.”

“Huh what?”

“That’s… correct.”

He smirked. “Told ya. I know my shit. I’m Gregor, by the way.”

You exhaled, checking the time on your chrono. Shit. Less than an hour before your meeting. You downed the rest of your caf, wincing as it burned your tongue, then set it back down on the transparisteel table.  “I have a meeting in an hour,” you rubbed your temples. “I have to negotiate with a client so they actually pay me in full - which, in your world, is probably like taking over a Separatist base.”

“Oh, so we’re talking full-blown siege tactics. Are they holed up behind bullshit excuses? Holding the ‘we’re like family’ line? Or are they playing the long game, pretending they never got the quotation?”

“The second and the last one. Absolute cowards.” You groaned, scratching the back of your head in frustration. He whistled. “Yeah, you’re in for a slog. Best move is to cut off their supply lines - constant follow-ups, relentless pressure. No mercy.” He tapped his temple. “You gotta think like a strategist. Exploit their weaknesses.”

You arched a brow. “And what, pray tell, is their weakness?”

“They need your work, right? Make ‘em sweat. Pull the ‘oh, sorry, I got other clients who actually pay full and on time’ move. Nothing sends a cheap bastard into panic mode faster than the threat of losing good work.” Gregor smiled, looking smug at his own suggestion. 

You stared at him. “...That’s actually solid advice.”

“Told ya. I know my shit.” He smirked, pointing at himself. “And, worked at a diner, so I know a thing or two about clientele.”

“So here’s the deal: I’ll open the door, you help me with the alocasia, and since you clearly have opinions, the bolting spinach too. Deal?” You jerked your chin towards the spinach planters on the other side of the balcony.

“And probably those overwatered orchids,” he added under his breath.

“Excuse me?”

“C’mon, I know you got at least one in there drowning in too much love.” He grinned. You huffed, rolling your eyes, but… yeah, he wasn’t wrong. Snapping your fingers, you pointed at the entrance to the building just across the street. “Alright, smartass. That’s my apartment building’s door. I’ll buzz you in.” And almost immediately, Gregor gave you a lazy two-finger salute. “Copy that.”

You disappeared inside, grabbing your portable computer on the way to the door console. A few taps later, the buzzer rang, and within seconds, you heard footsteps in the hallway. When you opened the door, Gregor was standing there, arms behind his back, towering. No, seriously, this guy was huge. He was at least thirty centimetres taller than you and shoulders broad enough to cover your entire door. “Gotta say, wasn’t expecting to be recruited into gardening duty on my morning run,” he stepped inside.

“And I wasn’t expecting a literal clone trooper offering to assess my plants, but here we are.” You shut the door behind him. 

“Nice place. Cosy.” His eyes roamed around the living area, where even more plants were clustered - some on shelves, some hanging in macramé holders, some in pots crammed onto every available surface. “Damn. Alright, yeah, this makes sense now. You got a whole ecosystem in here.”

“Told ya. I know my shit.” You copied him, earning a loud bark of laughter from Gregor. “Alright, alright - where’s the alocasia?”

“Right this way, trooper,” you jerked your head towards the balcony, and led him through the apartment, past the cluster of shelves and stray pots scattered across the floor. Behind you, you could feel Gregor slowed his pace as he scanned the walls, the corners, well, the overall lived-in chaos of the space. As you passed the small exotic plant room. The trooper behind you stopped.

“…No shit,” he muttered.

You smirked, watching as he peered inside like he’d just stumbled across a classified bunker. The room wasn’t big, barely more than a pantry closet, but it was packed. Hanging grow lights bathed everything in deep violet and pink hues, creating an otherworldly glow against the transparisteel of the paludarium - a self-contained ecosystem of mist-covered moss, creeping vines, and a trickling water feature. Inside, your carnivorous and protocarnivorous plants thrived, stretching their delicate leaves towards the light. Bladderworts, sundews, even a few stone flowers from Felucia. Tiny semi-aquatic species rovered in the damp soil, waiting to be their next unfortunate meal.

Gregor let out a low whistle, gazing from one plant to the next, his expression caught somewhere between impressed and deeply concerned. “Alright, I thought you just had a couple houseplants aside from the forest outside. But this is some next-level shit.” He stepped closer, peering over the glass. “Is that a Saava? Thought those things were illegal.”

“They are. Technically.” You leaned against the doorframe, eyeing one of your most prized possessions. The Saava plant sat in its own reinforced enclosure, its thick leaves and flowers unfurling under the glow of the grow lights. In the wild, a fully matured Saava could grow as big as a juggernaut - wide, gaping maws hidden beneath its deceptively lush foliage, lying in wait for unsuspecting creatures to wander too close. It didn’t discriminate. If it moved, if it breathed, if it was meaty, the saava could and would consume it whole. Of course, in a controlled environment, it wasn’t nearly that dangerous. It only required… well. Small rats.

“You smuggling actually dangerous carnivorous plants now?” He jabbed a thumb at the plant. “I mean, I get the pitcher plants outside, but, this?”

“Smuggling’s a strong word,” you mused. “I prefer relocating.”

“Yeah, okay, you’re definitely on a watchlist.”

“You think the Republic’s got time to monitor illegal plant trade?”

“They should,” he muttered. “Shit like this could take out a whole squad if you let it grow too big.”

You waved a hand. “Relax. It’s perfectly safe.”

“Uh huh.” He shot you a deadpan look. “You got, like, an emergency protocol if this thing decides to crave for something bigger than a fist?”

You smirked. “Don’t fall in.”

“Great. I came here to help with your alocasia, not get eaten by a damn murder plant.” Gregor groaned. You clapped him on the shoulder, grinning. “C’mon, trooper. What happened to all that battlefield courage?”

“This thing got a security system, or do you just let ‘em do their thing?”

“Oh, they do their thing,” you winked.

As if on cue, a wet snap echoing from the Saava’s enclosure as it devoured some unfortunate insect. Gregor blinked. “…Noted.”

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

The meeting dragged on, a slow, agonising war of attrition. You had to push, hard, to get your client to pay you in full, all while biting back the urge to just flat-out call them a cheapskate. They relented in the end, of course - what the hell else were they gonna do? Hire a full agency to design the interior of their tiny tapcafe in CoCo Town and end up paying triple what they owed you? Yeah, fucking right. When it was finally over, you shut your portable computer with a sigh, rubbing the tension out of your forehead. You swept your gaze around the apartment, and then… Oh. Gregor was still there, crouched on the balcony, utterly absorbed in what he was doing. You hadn’t even heard him move around during the call - he was just there, like he belonged.

He’d already taken care of the alocasia and fixed the overwatered orchids, but now he was gently trimming the wilting Monstera obliqua. A fresh mix of soil sat behind him, along with a pile of roots and bark. Oh, he must be repotting some of your root-bound plants. This man… this Republic Commando, if you heard that correctly before your meeting started, this trained soldier who had definitely blown things up for a living, was currently kneeling on your balcony, humming very softly under his breath as he patiently worked through your plants like some kind of professional gardener.

And maybe it was the exhaustion from the meeting, or the fact that you hadn’t had a real break in weeks, but something clicked in that moment. He was adorable. Like, genuinely, infuriatingly adorable. The way he was so fucking focused, the way his brows furrowed in concentration, the way his rough, calloused fingers somehow perfectly gentle with the fragile roots. You had let this man into your home with a 50/50 chance of ending up a dead body, and instead, he was here, quietly fixing problems you had been putting off for months. And for the first time in a long time, you felt grateful you’d taken a risk on a stranger.

Maybe you should take some damn time off. Fix up the bigger plants, catch up on rest, actually enjoy your own space instead of running yourself into the ground. Oh, the joy of being freelance - become your own boss, and suddenly you’re working 24/5. Shaking yourself out of your thoughts, you got up, stretching, and poured a fresh cup of iced caf. The least you could do was return the favour.

You stepped out onto the balcony, crouching beside him, and placed the cup down next to him.

“How’s the garden?” you asked.

Gregor glanced at the caf first, nodding in thanks, then assessed the balcony with critical eyes. “Well,” he drawled, wiping some soil off his fingers, “the alocasia’s handled, the orchids aren’t drowning anymore, and this little guy—” he gestured at the Monstera obliqua, “—needed some tough love, but he’ll live.”

You huffed a small laugh, watching as he took a sip of the caf.

“You really know your shit, huh?”

Gregor grinned, setting the cup down. “Heh. Told ya.”

“So, off day huh? Work starts again tomorrow or you’re on an actual leave?”

“Heh. Actual leave. Mhm.” Gregor patted down the soil around the Monstera obliqua, giving it one last firm press before returning the pot to its corner. He stretched his arms, rolling his shoulders to shake off the tension of being hunched over. “I get to take extended leave after every mission until I fully recover from my PTSD,” he said, voice dipping dry. “Which is probably never, heh.” He let out another laugh - that laugh. That raspy, semi-choked heh-heh-heh that sounded like it came from somewhere deep in his chest. Like something had once punched all the air out of him, and now his laughter was permanently stuck between a chuckle and a wheeze. It was rough, a little wild, but - fuck, you kinda loved it.

“A bit TMI,” he continued, dusting the soil off his hands, “but I got separated from my squad, suffered amnesia, ended up as a dishwasher in a diner run by a real piece of work. Then helped Colonel Gascon and his squad get off-world and, uh—” he made a small explosion motion with his hands, fingers splaying outward, “—got blown the fuck up in the process.”

You blinked. Jaw slack. Mouth open. He noticed. Gregor raised a brow before his hand shot out, fingers gently pushing up under your chin to close your mouth.

“Careful,” he teased. “You’ll catch flies.”

You swallowed, words failing for a second. “You—you what?”

“Yeah.” He tapped his ears. “Implants, implants, and, uh… something something here—” his index finger drew small circles around his temples and head like he was trying to remember the technical details but had long since stopped caring. “Still fully functional, heh. Still leading troops into battles. But hey, the GAR’s been weirdly generous about giving me extended leave, so… y’know. Lucky me.”

He let out another one of those heh-heh-heh laughs, shaking his head like the absurdity of it all still caught him off guard sometimes. You just stared at him, mind still catching up. This man - who had just spent an hour saving your plants from slow, preventable deaths - had also survived an explosion, suffered amnesia, worked as a fucking dishwasher, recovered from all of that, and was still fighting battles. And here he was, joking about it over iced caf.

You let out a slow breath, watching him sip his drink like he hadn’t just casually dropped the wildest backstory you’d ever heard. “Gregor,”

He tilted his head. “Yeah?”

“You need a hobby.”

Gregor barked out a laugh, nearly choking on his caf. “This is a hobby! I like gardening.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Back at Power Sliders, my ex-boss - Borkus - grew most of his own veg, like I said. And since he was an asshole and didn’t pay me shit, I spent most of my days out in the garden instead.” He stretched, cracking his neck as he got to his feet. “You could use a way better organic fertiliser for these cabbages and spinach, by the way.”

“Oh, yeah?” You raised a brow. “What do you suggest, expert?”

“Liquid compost, for one. And if you really wanna grow mangosteen in this fuckass climate?” He gestured broadly at the Coruscant skyline, all metal and smog, then pointed at the tiny, struggling plant. “You’re gonna need heat, humidity, and actual soil - not this weak-ass, potting mix you’re using. Actual red soil. It’s a tree.”

You crossed your arms. “So I better just move to Naboo?”

“Nah, but you could rig up a heat mat, boost the humidity, and stop letting the wind batter it to death. Or, and hear me out—” he poked your shoulder blade, smirking, “—you admit defeat and grow something that actually thrives on this shit-hole planet.”

“And miss out on the principle of the thing? Absolutely not.” You scoffed. 

He let out another rough, wheezy heh-heh-heh, as he sat on one of the chairs. “Alright, suit yourself. But when that thing dies, don’t come crying to me.”

“Oh, I will. Just to spite you.” You rolled your eyes, earning another wheezy laughter from him. “Do you want to help me harvest the tomatoes and—”

“And the spinach, some cabbages, carrots, and peppers—” Gregor cut in. “Absolutely. Because those peppers have, I don’t know - maybe two, three days before they go bad.” He shot you a knowing look, hands on his hips like your neglect had personally offended him. 

“Riiiiight…”

“Look, I got eyes,” he snapped his fingers towards the peppers. “And I know how to cook. Which also means I know just the way to use ‘em for brunch.”

“Oh, so now you’re a chef too?” You laughed. Okay. Another damn checkbox checked. It was like someone - whoever the fuck was controlling the entire galaxy - had dropped this man right onto your balcony as some kind of divine compensation for all the Coruscanti dates that had gone horribly wrong. The ones who either were still emotionally unavailable five years after their last breakup, the ones who thought wearing one cool leather jacket made them interesting, the ones who had a whole-ass monologue about why they didn’t believe in therapy, those who were mysteriously allergic to commitment but still wanted to “see where this goes”, those who called themselves entrepreneurs but were really just unemployed, and of course, those who wanted to take things casual.

But no. Instead of another self-important, mid-thirties Core World man-child, here was Gregor. Gregor, who had survived a war, an explosion, amnesia, and a literal unpaid labour abuser. Who could fix plants, crack jokes, cook for fuck’s sake, and probably kill a man with his bare hands before breakfast if the need arose. 

He cracked his knuckles like he was about to really get to work. “Hell yeah, I am. You think I survived Power Sliders without picking up some tricks? Place was a shit hole, but I made a mean shakshouka when I wasn’t stuck scrubbing dishes.” Before you knew it, he plucked a tomato off the vine, and rolled it in his palm to inspect it. “Hand me the trowel behind you,” he cocked his chin towards the bucket near your feet. “Gotta check the roots after we harvest - see if they need fresh compost. And please tell me you’re not just relying on impatiens for your veg patch. Heh.”

“Excuse me?”

Gregor sighed. “You need some cosmos in here. Maybe some broad beans. Good companion plants. Can’t just let the soil get all depleted and expect a good yield.”

You just stared at him. Okay. Great. He was handsome. Smart. Funny as fuck. He cooked. He gardened. He knew his way around a battlefield and a fucking tomato vine. And - oh, this was unfair - he looked up at you with that smirk like he knew exactly what was going through your head.

“When does your leave end again?” You huffed, shaking your head with a grin.

Gregor caught the tomato he’d just tossed in the air, his smirk widening. “Why?” he drawled, voice dropped just enough to make flowers grow in your stomach. “You trying to keep me?”

[vodika-vibes]

How do I know I'm down bad for Slick? I'm over here considering the Same Faced Gods AU for him.

Just—

He circles you, like a tiger stalking his prey, and you twist your head to watch him. There's a small smirk playing on his lips, and you realize, suddenly, that he's getting closer to you with every step.

"You--you're one of them, right?" You ask, your mouth dry with anxiety, even as you turn to keep an eye on him.

"One of who?"

"The--the gods. The same faced ones."

Amusement colors his features for a moment, "Is that what you're calling us these days? I suppose I can play along, I've never been opposed to a pretty thing praying to me, after all."

You're beginning to think that you and all of the people like you have gotten it wrong. That maybe, just maybe, these men aren't actual gods.

"So..." Your tongue flickers against your lips for a moment, and you immediately regret it as he hones in on the movement like a heat seeking missile, his rough fingers gripping your chin as though you're his, "s--so," you stutter, "what are you the god of?"

You're actually kind of proud that you didn't stutter that time.

"My name is Slick," his smirk widens, "And I am one of the fallen."

"I...what?"

"For every brother who stands in the light, another must stand in darkness. That's how it works, princess." He leans in, his lips hovering over yours, "I am the god of nothing and no one. I am worshipped by you, and you alone."

"I...um..." You swallow hard, and his hand settles lightly against your throat. You're terrified, and yet, you know that you're not actually in danger.

"So," Slick all but purrs against your lips, "Tell me you have something interesting for me to destroy."

[multi-fan-dom-madness]

Title Prompt: I'll drop a few below and you can choose whichever gives you inspiration. And I'll let you choose SFW or NSFW, whichever suits your fancy.

- Intergalactic Tango

- Up All Night, Neon Lights

- 79s: Crash & Dash

Feel free to adjust the title to fit whatever inspiration you get. Have fun! 😘

Up All Night, Neon Lights

Summary: A night out with your friend leads to a daring rooftop fling.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, Fives x reader, gn!reader so can be read as M/M or M/F, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it folks), marking, creampie, exhibitionism, writer got caught up in the 'neon lights' part of the title prompt my bad, uhh I think that's everything?

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: I had so much fun with this!! This is my first time writing Fives so I hope I did him justice. Thanks for the prompt, @523rdrebel <3

You have no idea what’s gotten into you tonight.

But you don’t really care. 

Giddy laughter bubbling up in your chest, you stumble as the trooper tugs you along by hand. He throws you a charming smirk over his shoulder. Cold rain pelts down on the two of you as you sprint through puddled Coruscanti streets, plastering your clothing to your body, seeping into your bones. Despite that, and despite the odd looks thrown your way as you push past pedestrians who were sensible and brought raincoats and umbrellas with them, all you want to do is stop and turn your face skyward, catch the rain in your mouth, bathe in the distorted neon reflections. 

Because tonight has been nothing but neon. First the bar that your roommate had dragged you to, the giant LED screen emblazoned with a technicolor 79s, the inside as richly lit with oranges and pinks and whites; then the second bar you hopped to, a small company of clone troopers following like groupies, illuminated by vivid reds and blues; and now, sprinting through this side-street marketplace, aqua and magenta lights dazzle your eyes. You feel just as multicolored on the inside, a riot of sensations and emotions and needs. 

“C’mon, mesh’la,” the trooper says with a deep chuckle. “Let’s get you out of the rain.” 

“But Fiiiiives,” you whine, just the slightest bit tipsy, pouting your bottom lip in a way you hope makes you look cute and not like a mess, “I like the rain.” 

He glances back to you, the neon shining in his dark eyes, black curls slick with rainwater. A devilish grin tugs at his lips—lips you’ve been trying not to stare at all night, trying not to imagine what they feel like against yours, on your skin, between your legs. The look he gives you is inscrutable, a mask of bravado and sex, one that you’re desperate to rip off and see what he’s hiding underneath.

Yeah. You really don’t know what’s gotten into you. 

When your roommate convinced you to go clubbing with her tonight, you’d been a little skeptical. Bars are most decidedly not your scene. But she had come prepared with receipts: the immense amount of stress you’ve been under at work, even in a low-level senators’ office; the messy breakup you survived just a few months ago; and the fact that you promised her a night out. With all the evidence stacked against you, there really hadn’t been any other answer but, “Where are we going?” 

And when you’d arrived at 79s, hours ago now, you’d been a little overwhelmed by the abundance of clone troopers in attendance. Sure, you’ve interacted with a few clones just by virtue of your job. But in those instances, they always had their helmets on, and you most certainly tried to avoid attracting attention in your day-to-day life. The goal, your friend assured you, was to attract as much attention as possible. She’d styled your face and clothing in a way that drew the eye exactly where she—and you, you supposed—wanted people to look.

It had worked. You hadn’t paid for a single drink all night, not that you had many. Multiple troopers took their shot, but really, it was the cocky, self-assured one with a ‘5’ tattoo and goatee that caught your eye. The one whose half-smirk over the rim of his glass promised no-strings fun, if that’s what you wanted. He’d drawn you in with those dark, shining eyes, and now, gazing into them with rain pouring into yours, you swallow against the rush of arousal that surges within you.

The rain subsides; for a moment you think the storm has passed. Looking up, you realize you’ve moved under an awning, the corrugated metal drumming loudly in the downpour. Panting, you squeeze Fives’s hand as you slow to a walk, and finally to a halt, to catch your breath. 

You give him a breathless smile. His teeth flash in the technicolor lights as he smiles in return, pushing his curls off of his forehead. Your heart skips at the sight, like a lovesick teenager. Biting your lip, you shuffle your feet, butterflies beating their wings against your insides.

“Kriff, mesh’la,” Fives chuckles. “You’re dangerous, you know that?” 

Blinking in surprise, you quirk an eyebrow. “Is that so?” 

He nods, sliding an arm around your shoulders. “Fun, charming, attractive. I like that.” 

“Good,” you hum. His body heat is a welcome respite from the clinging cold, and you boldly snake your arm around his waist and pull him closer. “But I think all of those words describe you better.” 

He tips your face up with one gloved finger under your chin. You gasp at how close he is, his face inches from yours—and this close, you think you can see past the cocky mask he wears, glimpse the man beneath, the one who dreams and wants and needs and cries and loves. Gulping, you can’t help the way your eyes flick down to his lips. 

You know he noticed, his mouth pressing into a small smile.

“I know they say opposites attract, but...” He trails off. His dark eyes study your face, tracing every feature, before settling on your mouth. “Well, personally I’ve always preferred someone like me.” 

“And what are you like, Fives?” you breathe, tilting your head, drawing closer to him. 

He grips your chin between thumb and forefinger, nostrils flaring as he takes a breath. “Insatiable.” 

A noise escapes you, somewhere between a moan and a gasp. He leans down, eyes never leaving yours until your noses bump. He holds there, his breath fanning your face—giving you a chance to pull away if you want. 

You don’t. Tightening your grip around his waist, you slot your lips against his, eyes sliding shut with a proper moan. His hand cups your face, holding you against him. You lick his bottom lip and nudge his mouth open. Droplets of water kiss over your skin as you nearly devour one another, tongues meeting hot and wet. Stabilizing yourself on his chest with one hand, your knees quake at the vibrations of his growl against your palm. 

When he breaks the kiss, he pants, resting his forehead against yours, a surprisingly bashful smile gracing his features. “That was...wow.” 

You can’t even form words, simply giggling in agreement. He looks gorgeous like this, a blush high on his cheeks and wet skin shimmering in the light of neon. Your hand wanders from his chest up, up, up into his hair, still soaked and dripping, your nails lightly scratching over his scalp. With a shudder, his eyes screw shut. 

“You wanna get outta here?” 

“And go where?” You swallow, trying to think through the haze his kiss brought on. “I’m not even sure where ‘here’ is.” 

He chuckles. “Well, the barracks are too far, and I’d bet my entire pension that your friend has one of my brothers back at your apartment.”

“I thought clones don’t get pensions?” 

There’s that smirk again, the one that makes you feel like only you and him are privy to an inside joke. “Exactly.” 

You snort in what you’re sure is a very unattractive manner, but Fives’s smirk broadens to a genuine smile. His thumb rubs circles on your back. 

“My question still stands, then,” you say. 

He hums, the sound rumbling pleasantly under your palm, sending tingles up your arm. “I have an idea. Can I show you something?” 

The way he asks it, like he’s asking permission for something beyond kissing you again or even fucking you, makes your stomach flip. “Of course.”

That roguish glint in his eyes once again, he removes himself from your embrace and, taking your hand, steps back into the rain. You gasp at the shock, the water feeling even colder against your heated skin. You follow him wordlessly as he wends his way around midnight market-goers, tramps through puddles, and finally pushes open a creaky door at the base of a skyscraper. 

“We can take the lift,” he says, “but we have to climb a few floors first.”

So, a few flights of stairs later, you stand winded in a lift, soft music chiming from hidden speakers. As soon as the doors slide shut, you lock eyes with Fives, fluttering your eyelashes at him. 

“Are you gonna kiss me or what, trooper?” you ask, voice pitched low. 

He closes the distance in two long strides. Back pressed flush to the lift wall, you gasp as he braces one arm above your head, his other hand hiking your leg up over his hip. “Thought you’d never ask.” 

His mouth is on yours before you can even think of a response, wiping all thought from your mind. You grind your heated core against him. When he licks into your mouth, you whimper, core throbbing with desire. Your hands can’t find a spot to rest, gripping his biceps, squeezing his ass, tugging his hair, cupping his half-hard dick. He bucks against your hand, groaning into your mouth. 

Neither of you break apart when the lift dings and the doors slide open. Only the sound of someone clearing their throat, obviously annoyed, jolts you out of the lustful daze you’ve sunk into. Face growing hot, you lower your leg back to the ground and keep your eyes down as the other person steps into the lift. Fives shoots you a smug wink; you cough to cover the giggles that rise up and try to escape.

The rest of the ride to the top floor is silent and awkward, but Fives’s finger tracing mindless patterns on the back of your hand makes it hard to care. As soon as the doors open again, you’re pulling him out of the lift and into the hallway. 

You’re both laughing before the lift even closes again. Doubled over, buzzing with embarrassment and desire, you slump against the nearby wall until the fit passes. Fives wipes tears from his eyes. 

“Did you see their face?” he asks.

“No,” you groan, burying your own into your hands. “I only saw their shoes.” 

He guffaws. “I get the feeling this isn’t the first time they’ve witnessed, ah, certain activities in their building.” 

“That doesn’t make me feel better,” you say. “But enough about them. What is it you wanted to show me?”

Eyes twinkling with mischief, Fives gestures down the hall to the door labeled ‘ROOF ACCESS.’ With a grin, you dart to the door and shove it open. You take the stairs two at a time and emerge, breathless, to a rain-slicked rooftop.

You move to the edge without thinking. Leaning your forearms on the permacrete wall that lines the edge, you crane your head over to look down. The vertical drop to the streets below makes your head swim, but you find you like the sensation, falling without moving. The rain has begun to lighten up, coming in a drizzle now. From this height, the glow of neon lights melds into a smooth gradient, like someone took a giant brush and blended the colors together. Lights flash and strobe and glitter as far as you can see, stretching to the horizon. 

Fives wraps his arms around you from behind. His warmth is welcome, and you lean back against him. 

“It’s gorgeous up here,” you say. “Thank you.” 

He hums. “Not as gorgeous as you, mesh’la.” 

You laugh, squeezing his hands where they rest over your waist. “Please. Look at all that.” 

“I am,” he says. “I see it. And I see you.” 

Breath hitching, you turn around in his grasp until your back presses against the low wall. Peering up into his dark eyes, you catch another glimpse of the softness he’s hiding, and it makes you melt. You caress his face, relishing in the way he leans into your touch, his eyes shut, brow smooth and unworried. 

“Fuck me,” you say, bolder than you expected of yourself. 

His eyes fly open. “Here?”

“Why not?” 

His chest heaves with sudden excitement, and against your thigh, his cock stiffens again. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.” 

He helps you shuck your clothing until you’re both completely naked under the clouds. The distant lights glisten on his damp skin. You rest your palm over the handprint tattoo on his pec, and he shudders. His eyes rake over your body, drinking you in, as you do the same to him. Water collecting in droplets on his skin, you trail your eyes over his toned abs, powerful thighs, veiny forearms, and heavy cock. You lick your lips in anticipation. 

His hand is scorching against your skin where he thumbs over your hip, pulling you closer. Bodies slotting together like two halves of a whole, you sigh in contentment. Slinging your arms loosely around his neck, you press your chest to his, your stiff nipples sensitive where they graze his skin. 

“Fives,” you plead. You don’t even know what you need, but you need him, need him to do something, give you his cock, give you his kisses.

“I’ve got you.” With a half smirk, he caresses your aching core, fingers nimble and firm against you. 

You keen brokenly, emboldened by your distance from the ground, letting your pleasure take control. Fives drops his head against your shoulder, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to your neck, as he works you up to the edge of bliss. Blindly, you reach for his hard length. You are rewarded with a deep groan as your fingers find purchase, wrapping around his velvety skin and pumping him slowly. 

“Fuck, mesh’la,” he whimpers. “Gonna make you feel so good.” 

“Yes,” you gasp. “Please, Fives, please.”

He bites down at the juncture between your neck and shoulder, sucking a mark into your skin as you writhe against him. Pleasure cresting within you, a thin wire pulling taut and molten in your belly, you moan to the sky. 

“Gonna- please, Fives—” 

His hand withdraws and he chuckles as you whimper at the loss. “Not yet,” he croons. “Need you to cum on my cock.” 

“Fuck, yes.” You hitch your leg around his waist again, presenting your neglected entrance for him. He prods against you, his tip flushed and leaking. Desperate, you spit into your free hand and coat his length with it, eyes locked on his. 

“Just like this,” he murmurs, and then he’s pushing into you, splitting you open at the seams and sewing you back together. Your head falls back, nails digging against his back. Your body tenses at the intrusion, but you love it, love the burn of the stretch, love the way that he fills you so completely, love the way his hand feels plays at your core as he gently rocks his hips up against your ass. 

“Kriff, mesh’la.” He presses his forehead against your chest, gripping your ass so tight you know you’ll have bruises that match his fingerprints. “So tight, so needy.” 

Shifting in his grasp, careful to not let his cock slip out, you prop yourself on the wall with your elbows, your upper half dangerously close to hanging over the edge. The danger makes your chest heave with excitement; the safety of Fives’s arms makes your core clench with need. His eyes find yours again, and he looks absolutely debauched. 

You tilt your head and catch his bottom lip between your teeth. His groan vibrates into your bones, slowly pulling that wire inside you tighter again. 

“Please fuck me, Fives,” you moan. “Please, need you to fucking ruin me.” 

Hips snapping against yours, he fucks you into oblivion, cock dragging against that shattering shard of heaven deep inside you. You cling to him, blinking away the rain, and scream your pleasure. The harder he fucks into you, the more your vision goes fuzzy, bursts of aqua and magenta and white neon blinding you to everything except Fives. His name becomes a chant, a prayer, tumbling from your lips in reverence. 

“Gonna cum,” you whine.

“Where should I—?” 

“Inside,” you cut him off. “Please. Need to feel your cum in me.” 

He bites you again, the pain blending with the pleasure so intensely that it shoves you over the edge of orgasm. Your entire body locks up as the cord inside you breaks. Molten, white-hot pleasure pulses through you, and you nearly black out, your release coating you both. 

Only Fives’s strong arms around you keep you upright as he ruts into you, chasing his own release. “Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck—” He stills, shuddering, panting into your neck as his cock throbs in your tight heat, warmth blooming from the inside. 

“Yes.” You card your fingers through his hair. “Thank you.”

He chuckles, breathless, his eyes glazed as they meet yours. “I should be thanking you.” 

You grin, kissing him. “I can think of a few ways for you to do that.” 

“At least let me buy you dinner first.” 

You laugh morphs into a whine as he slips out of you, his cum dribbling down your inner thigh. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Taglist: @thorsterstrudle @anxiouspineapple99 @deejadabbles @starrylothcat @blueink-bluesoul @idontgetanysleep @wolffegirlsunite @wings-and-beskar @mandos-mind-trick @moonlightwarriorqueen @sunshinesdaydream @starqueensthings @littlemissmanga if I missed anyone pls lmk!

[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.

[mist-at-dawn]

Condemned to Jealousy

Fandom: Star Wars, but where Fives was listened to, Palpatine is gone and the Republic is winning the war once and for all.

Pairing: Fives x Reader, unrequited Crosshair x Reader

Content: Angst and a little bit of fluff.

Warnings: Mentions of blood.

Word Count: 1642

A/N: Mando'a translations are 'mesh'la' = beautiful, and 'ner kar'ta' = my love. I wrote this in an evening so it's rather messy, but I've had this idea on my mind for a couple of days and actually wrote it for once.

When he hears that the 501st are on shore leave too, Crosshair bristles. All he wants is some quality time away from the front lines with you, and now he knows that his chance is squandered. Whilst you had been working with Clone Force 99 since Echo joined, as his personal medic (keeping his biomechanics running smooth, as well as helping with the trauma of Skako Minor), you were previously assigned with the 501st. That meant that you were going to meet up with Troopers that you had once served with and Crosshair would be deprived of your presence. He tried to push down his annoyance at the fact, but the sniper barely lasted an hour pretending to be fine. The grumpiness of his amplified over the days before their shore leave, culminating to the present moment: sitting with his brothers in a booth at 79s, brooding over a glass of whiskey and staring daggers into the table surface.

The music around the bar pulsed with energy, the floor filled with various clones who were moving with the steady beat – either with each other or with a nat-born who’d taken interest. Some clones still wore their plastoid, some wore their blacks, or a mix of the two. Some clones even wore civ clothes, although it was somewhat rare. Most of the colour adorned by the clones here tonight was, of course, blue. Too much blue, Crosshair thought to himself as his eyes shifted over the crowd, looking for you.

It took him a while to find you, for you and those you were currently with were hidden by the throng. By then he saw you; the first glimpse he saw was of you with a wide grin spread across your features, eyes crinkled slightly, laughing at something one of the clones around you said. There are three of them with you, Crosshair identifies. Two of them are bald and tattooed, the other with slicked back hair, a vaguely anchor shaped beard, and a tattoo upon his temple. Crosshair narrowed his eyes to get a better look at the tattoos. Bald Trooper No.1 has blue lines wrapping around his scalp and onto his face; he is dancing near you, shimmying quickly and with no rhythm. The sniper actually recognised Bald Trooper No.2: Jesse. He was on Anaxes and they had a mutual dislike of each other, making Crosshair wrinkle his nose as he observes the close proximity of the clone to you… Even if Jesse is laughing at Bald Trooper No.1 and now seeking to playfully tackle him. However, Crosshair’s distaste at Jesse’s presence quickly diminishes as Bearded Trooper wraps his arm around your shoulders, turning his head to reveal his tattoo in greater detail to Crosshair – an aurbesh five. He knew this clone too, but had met him only briefly after the rescue of Echo, for he was his batch-mate, Fives…

The ARC Trooper with aurbesh tattoo looks down at you, a toothy smirk spreading across his features. His honey hued irises sparkle in the throbbing lights and you realise as your eyes lock that you have missed this man so much.

Before being assigned to the Bad Batch, before the rescue of Echo, you had served with the 501st. You got on with all of them, Rex, Jesse, Tup, Hardcase, Kix, and even Dogma, who was a little hard to like at times. But Fives… On your first day with the legion, and after being introduced to Rex’s squad as their non-combat doctor, Fives had come up to you with that smirk of his and hit you with the cheesiest pick-up line you’d ever heard. Yet, you still blushed. Not because of the line, but because of the one who’d delivered it. From then on, you’d harboured a small crush on the ARC Trooper, who flirted with you any chance he got. He visited your medbay upon the Resolute often – most clones tended to stay away, save for their regular health check-ups, but Fives seemed to like the place more than Kix. It was through these visits that you began to get an inkling that you were not the only with a slight infatuation. It lead to the moment, in the middle of Fives’ routine health check after some time in the front line, where you both ended up acting on those feelings towards each other. From then on, the pair of you had been together, in secret, not because of some rule against clones and nat-borns being together, but due to violating the rules of the workplace. Yet, now that you served with the Bad Batch, not with Fives and the 501st, it was becoming more and more tempting to be not so secret about your relationship.

That is why, as you look into Fives’ eyes, his arm about your shoulders, you decide to raise a hand to loop around to the back of his head, your fingers slipping between his brunet locks. He raises a brow slightly, although as his eyes become hooded it is clear that he is having similar thoughts to yours.

“Mesh’la,” he mutters in his deep baritone, “I don’t want to keep this secret anymore.”

“Fives… Neither do I.”

In that moment, Fives pulls you in for a kiss, his lips encompassing yours softly. In that moment too, you hear the smashing of glass. You break away from Fives, who groans with frustration, yet too looks towards the source of the noise. You both expect it to be nothing much, maybe overly drunk patrons. It’s not nothing, as the table where your current squad sits is now in disarray and a certain member of Clone Force 99 is staring deadly daggers at Fives. The said clone makes an awkward sound in confusion, eyes flicking towards you with a hint of panic within them as he whispers in your ear, “Ner kar’ta, why is he glaring at me?”

You shake your head slightly, partially in disbelief, but also to indicate to Fives that you don’t know. “He’s usually grumpy, but I’ve never seen him like… this. Let me deal with this.”

As you talk with Fives, Crosshair is swiftly stomping over. Before Fives gets a chance to respond to you, a fist lands directly in the side of his nose, causing him to stumble and nearly pull you over with him. You untangle yourself from Fives, seeing red in the corners of your eyes as you turn to face the assailant, Crosshair. He looks enraged. However, your expression gives him a run for his credits.

“Crosshair! What the kriff was that?!” The entirety of the bar has their eyes on you as you shout, many of the 501st in the bar moving to gather around. Jesse and Hardcase, who were with you in the moments before the incident, have stepped in to check on Fives, who is holding his nose that gushes with his own crimson blood. Rex, who was sitting with the Commanders, has stood up and approached slowly, ready to step in to be the mediator, and alongside him is Cody too, the pair ready to work the dynamic duo as always. Kix is currently pushing his way through the crowd towards you as well, seeming to go full combat medic mode at the commotion. The Bad Batch have reacted too, all slightly differently. Wrecker has leapt from his seat, ready to fight. Echo has quickly moved to grab the oversized clone, and Hunter too has stopped his brother from starting a whirlwind of chaos, although seems to be more relaxed about potentially letting Wrecker off the leash if there is good reason to. Tech still sits in the back of the booth, awkwardly looking over his datapad at the situation. All of them wait, however, to see how Crosshair responds.

The silver haired sniper hisses an exhale, before snarling his words, “The reg kissed you!”

In your eyes, it is a pretty poor excuse. “So?!” You call out, your anger bubbling up with the increasing heat.

Crosshair narrows his eyes, taken aback by the question, yet this time he has a better response, spoken quietly this time, his words now laced with venom, “It looks like you’re being taken advantage of…”

If you hadn’t been drinking then maybe you would have said something better, but what comes out of you is spat that the sniper with frustration at his apparent blunder.

“I’m dating Fives, I ain’t being kriffing taken advantage of!”

Crosshair’s expression falls for a moment, a look of abject horror upon his features. Yet it disappears as quickly as it appears. He seems done, done with everything now. Turning around, to head towards the exit of the bar, he growls, “Kriff you…” He leaves then, storming out. Hunter drags Wrecker along with him after their brother, whilst Echo lets go to rush across to you and Fives, whose nose is now clogged up with napkins from the bar to stop the bleeding.

It is as Echo comes towards you and Crosshair steps out the door of the bar that the realisation of what truly happened hits you. All those around you disappear as your entire focus turns to Fives. You rush over towards him, the shouts of the clones about you trying to disperse the crowd falling on deaf ears as you throw yourself against Fives, wrapping your arms around him.

“I’m sorry, Fives-“

“Ssssh, ner kar’ta, not your fault. He was just jealous.” Fives wraps his arms about you, engulfing you in his warmth and comfort, placing a gentle kiss atop the crown of your head.

Meanwhile, Crosshair storms away from 79s and into the night of Coruscant, he realises that he will always be jealous in regard to you. Jealous because you are the one thing he cannot have, for Fives has already claimed you.

=========

Thanks for reading!

[hetalianskywalker]

Day 24: Stories

Pairing: Mer Slip x Mer Reader

Summary: You find a very desperate stowaway on your ship.

Author’s Note: Slip is from the Clone Conspiracy episode of The Bad Batch. I could not find a fic of him so here have one. Also the story is inspired by the framing story for 1001 Arabian Nights.

Warnings: Cursing and I think that’s it

Word Count: 742

Prompt: By the time we discover the stowaway, he has already made friends with the ship. I threaten to throw him overboard, and it almost sinks itself in displeasure.

Prompt 3043 by deepwaterwritingprompts.

By the time you discover the stowaway, he has already made friends with the ship. You threaten to throw him overboard, and it almost sinks itself in displeasure. To say you are pissed is putting it lightly. The Mer clone in question gives you an exhausted, but victorious smirk.

“Looks like you’re stuck with me.” He shrugs, leaning back against the railing. This is what you get for stopping on Coruscant. Ever since the establishment of the empire, they had been less than welcoming of natural Mer. You should have known something would go horribly wrong eventually by continuing to sail there, but a Mer clone stowaway and your ship turning against you!?

“You can’t be serious.” You growl at your ship. “I brought you to life.” It creaks back at you that Slip needed help. You roll your eyes in annoyance before looking back at the Mer clone. He did look worse for wear; the bags under his eyes make him look far older with the beard.

“Slip, right?” You grumble and he nods. “Did you just start talking to my ship when you snuck aboard? Cause it’s obvious you can’t hear it.”

He glares at you for a long moment. The sound of the ship speeding through along the hyper current becomes the only noise in the air. There is no one else on the ship after all.

“I explained my story because I was desperate. I almost got killed by an empire assassin who used to be a mer trooper apparently so forgive me if I’m a bit out of it.” Slip rants through grit teeth; paranoia creeping in. “Oh, and let’s not forget the same assassin killed my best friend in front of me the other day.”

“Skrag.” You blink, giving yourself a moment to digest that. It was definitely the most insane story you’ve ever heard. “How did you get away? And what do you mean by used to be a Mer Trooper?”

You had always been a sucker for a good story. A true sailor at heart in that way. Slip slumps down on the deck and begins going into greater detail. He then suddenly stops right before the end when Captain Rex and a group of other Mer rebels saved him and Senator Chuchi from the assassin.

“Then what?” You demand and Slip evilly grins as he gets to his feet. “You can’t just leave it there!?”

He takes off his gray naval officer hat and you stare a little longer than you should at his slicked back hair and well kept beard.

“Nah, I’ll tell you the rest tomorrow. Good night.” Your jaw drops as you watch him head below deck.

“And you wanted to throw him overboard.” The ship chuckles at you as you get to your feet.

“Fuck off.”

Slip continues to tell you stories over the next year. Every night he finishes the story from the night before, starts a new one, and stops on a cliffhanger. Many are stories he overheard or happened to him during the war; the remaining ones are stories he heard his Jedi general tell before Order 66. You never threaten to throw him overboard again, always needing to know what happened next.

Over that year, you soon find yourself roped into the Sea Alor’s plan to fight the empire. You, Slip, and your ship mostly do supply runs, but someone has to do the background work. Tonight though, you and Slip are in Mer form as you hear tonight’s tale. The ship is docked in a cove nearby while you both sit on rocks in a lagoon.

“You don’t need to tell me more stories.” You begin slowly. Slip looks at you confused and a bit hurt like his usefulness had just run out. “I want more, but you don’t have to tell them for me to keep you around anymore.” His pure gray fin flicks around in the water, thinking. He then dives in before resurfacing in front of you; your faces inches from each other.

“Do you love me?” You didn’t expect him to ask so directly. One of his claws slides a piece of your hair behind your ear and his sharp teeth reflect the bright moon. It doesn’t go unnoticed by you how he sounds afraid like he did during the night you met him.

“Yes. Do you-” The kiss is soft and quick, but the next one is far longer.