#clone wars fan fiction

[moomoog017]

headcannons ᯓᡣ𐭩 commander wolffe

commander wolffe x gn!reader

Guys this wasn't supposed to be so long... Enjoy!

One of his favorite things to do in private is for you to feel his muscles. Arms, chest, back, whatever it is he adores it. It boosts his ego and makes him feel special. He loves when you dote on how strong he is, it really gets him going. If you're muscular in places he will hype you up and tell you how strong you are. Feeling your muscles and pushing down on them he smirks. "Woah look atchu! So much muscle now (Y/n)!"

When he is in depth in a plan or thought, he comes to you for support and suggestions. When it's battle plans, he likes hearing your thoughts about it and will usually take your advice. He can't help but notice when you drop everything to help him. When it's NOT battle plans he likes to talk about life. He's not a big fan of the past but he will philosophize with you. He's quite the intellectual despite his exterior.

The man is a sucker for you when you take charge of literally anything. He likes it when you challenge his ideas or know something he doesn't. He would never admit it but he likes when you teach him something new. "Give it here, I'll show you." Wolffe rolls his eyes handing over the weapon. "There isn't a weapon I couldn't use." He states as a 'matter of fact. ' You chuckle. "Watch." A smirk crept on your face and you use the weapon with incredible accuracy. Wolffe's eyes widen. A blush is pushed onto his face, "yeah whatever, lucky shot."

Wolffe isn't exactly an empathetic person he's a tough love kinda guy. If you say anything bad about yourself he literally doesn't understand why because when he sees you, you're perfect. He genuinely gets confused and tries to tell you that your statements make no sense and are inaccurate. He will nag you until you think otherwise, if it's a real problem for you he's gonna catch on, he's smart.

If you are forcing yourself to stay awake especially for his sake he will put you to bed. Forcefully if he must. He cares so much and when you're healthy you're happy, that's all he wants for you. He sometimes neglects his health like sleeping for you, he will always provide for you first. He is selfless. "Wolffe! I'm fine." Wolffe sighs, you wanna play? Let's play." His gruff voice and dangerous eyes burning through you. He lunges and grabs you, hoisting you in his arms. Wolffe happily smirks at his victory.

OMFG STRUT YOUR STUFF. HE WILL EAT THAT SHIT UP. He loves when you're confident in yourself it makes him crazy, like bro is barking.

When you're stubborn he's all over you he can't stand it when you challenge him or don't do what you're told he kinda enjoys it but he won't tell you that.

You can't peck him on the lips without him pulling you back and embracing in a passionate kiss, living in war is always risky, one day it's possible he won't come back. He needs to make sure you know he loves you every time him or you leaves.

When you work up a sweat whether just existing or doing something physically he loses it. Just the smell of you makes him wanna grab and make out with you. ESPECIALLY if it's sparing with him.

Wolffe is always grateful when you give him stuff but no matter how expensive or cool it is nothing beats the experiences you guys have together. He will remember those forever and they mean so much to him.

He has developed this habit of grabbing your cheek and pinching it. He doesn't do it hard but it's a way for him to say 'I love you' without saying it in front of the other men. He gets a little embarrassed sometimes, he's got to maintain his tough guy image.

At first he was self conscious about his scar, it brings him bad memories but he always plays it off that he doesn't care but it still haunts him sometimes. When you two were close enough to feel comfortable with touching each other, the first place you felt was his scar. He knew he wasn't 'pretty' but you didn't care. He felt the softness of his scar and he felt something he hadn't in a very long time. Security. But when you kissed his scar all the way down his face, he just about lost it. He felt your care and compassion through your kisses and he never wanted it to stop.

Whenever you're passionate he's passionate. He might not show it very well but the way he looks at you says it all. The slight smirk in his face, like it's going to turn into a smile. The scrunch of his eyes shows you happiness. The same goes for when you're fired up because of something, he LOVES when you speak your mind, get a little cocky or sarcastic.

[clonemedickix]

Rating: E

Word count: 5.7K

Pairing: Captain Rex x OC General Lara Lin x Arc Trooper Fives

Warnings: clone SMUT - Under 18 DNI, foreplay and banter, P in V sex, P in A sex, threesome, oral sex NOT SAFE FOR COSTCO

Excerpt Summary - Lara has a very interesting dream one day…

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@anxiouspineapple99 @blueink-bluesoul @523rdrebel @mandos-mind-trick @jediknightjana @moonlightwarriorqueen @wizardofrozz @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @dystopicjumpsuit @villanousace

Lara was sitting on her hill, peacefully watching the gulls skim over the waves fishing for their dinner. It was a perfect day. The weather was a pleasant temperature, not too humid, with a seaward breeze that came from behind over the land and made the air feel more crisp and clean. She took a deep breath and sighed, lying back on the grass in pure enjoyment. Nobody was looking for her at the moment, she had no jobs outstanding, Rex wasn’t due in for a few more hours from his latest mission. She could just lay here and peacefully exist, watching the waves and sea birds. It didn’t take long for her to dose off, the lulling sound of the ocean dragging her down to sleep beneath the dull roar of the waves.

She dreamed she was back home on Earth. Walking up the stairs to her bedroom, she sensed someone was there in her house, and she was curious who would be waiting for her in her own room. Stepping over the threshold, she spotted the familiar form of Fives. Her heart swelled to see him again; she’d missed him so very much since his death. He was standing in his blacks, no armor in sight, and Lara took a moment to appreciate the smooth, broad shoulders stacked with muscle, the strong back tapering to his rather narrow waist, to the beautifully rounded, firm buttocks. His thick, strong thighs made her fingers tingle at the thought of gliding over their hard surfaces, feeling the edges of the defined muscles beneath the springy hair of his legs.

Fives turned at her approach, smiling lovingly to see her there. He reached out his hands to pull Lara to him, crushing her to his chest in a tight hug. The smell of him; Lara took a deep breath in appreciation of his warm scent. He still smelled like Dr Squatch’s pine tar; it only added to his rugged charm. Fives buried his face in Lara’s neck, taking in the smell of her conditioner that was so singularly hers. It had been a spicy, flowery note to her aura that had always announced her presence; the scent would linger in the room like a ghost when she left, and Fives would always know she’d been there. It was a comforting detail to the clone.

Lara nuzzled her face into the crook of Fives’ neck, her arms around him tightly. “I’ve missed you so much Fives. Every day. Everything about you.” He pulled back a bit so he could look into her eyes.

“Everything?” Fives gave her his little rakish smirk that always made her laugh.

Lara laughed. “Every. Single. Thing.” She stared back into his deep brown eyes, a rising feeling of challenge and need starting to burn within her. Could he sense it?

Fives studied her quietly, the smile never leaving his lips. “I think I could do a little something about your missing me, if you wanted,” he said with a low murmur near her ear.

Lara’s eyes sharpened with focus, desire shining brightly in her luminous blue irises. “Could you?,” she breathed softly.

Fives leaned in and pressed his lips to hers gently, feeling the softness of her mouth, reminding himself of the feel of her after so long. He started to press a little harder, feeling her mouth open to him, her own pressure increasing as she pressed her body more tightly to his. Fives lightly brushed the tip of his tongue over her top lip, a tentative ask, to which Lara responded by meeting his tongue with hers fully. Their kiss suddenly leapt over the edge of gentle to passionate and eager like a brumby leaping over the edge of a cliff to gallop down a mountain. The two were clutching at each other like they had an appointment with the gallows, trying to make every second touching count.

Fives broke away from kissing Lara’s mouth to make a trail of kisses to her jawline, then down her neck. He felt her back arch at the sensation, and she dug her fingertips into the muscles of his back, her gasps almost a wheeze of overstimulation. Fives started to guide her back toward her bed, carefully paying attention that she didn’t trip in the blind walk - her eyes were closed and she was clinging to him like a life rope. At the edge of the large bed, he paused, his hands roaming the curves of her body, then digging into her mass of heavy curls, while she did the same - reacquainting themselves with the planes and curves of each other, both about to start tearing the restraining clothes off the other.

“What… um… what are you two up to here?” A voice spoke from the doorway, causing both Fives and Lara to have small coronaries. Fives was already a ghost; Lara was pretty sure she felt her soul leave her body for a brief moment at the sound of Rex’s voice behind her. Turning to face him, a little shamefacedly, she was about to speak, when Fives beat her to it.

“Lara was taking me to church, Rex. Just a little daily worship of my goddess. Don’t you feel the need to kneel and pray to her?” His tone was half joking, but his eyes snapped with something of desire and eagerness. Lara looked between them surprised - was Fives making a veiled suggestion like she thought he was?

Rex studied them for a moment, and then quietly walked over to the pair. He stepped up behind Lara and pressed himself closely to her, leaning in to kiss her cheek and then her neck. Looking up into her wide blue eyes, filled with shock and curiosity, he smiled a little cheekily and said, “I love kneeling before my goddess.” Rex sat on the edge of the bed and pulled Lara into his lap. Lara looked up at Fives with truly amazed, wide eyes - a situation of this nature had not arisen in her life in thousands of years. She’d never seen it coming from her clones. Rex reached forward and untucked the hem of her shirt, running his hands up beneath it to cup her breasts. Fives reached down and grasped the edge of the garment and lifted it over her head, dropping it to the floor beside him. He pulled his own shirt off as well, revealing his beautifully muscled torso.

Rex unclasped Lara’s bra and let it fall to the floor, his hands returning to form a shelf for her soft, full breasts. Fives leaned down and kissed a trail along her collarbones, then down to the top of her breasts, then gently took her right nipple into his mouth, sucking it lightly, grazing it with the edge of his teeth carefully. Lara moaned at the sensation. She had a moment of panic, unsure what to do with her hands. Reaching back she ran her hands over Rex’s hardening bulge; he widened his legs a bit to give her access, and she massaged his balls lightly through his pants. Leaning her head back on his shoulder, Fives suddenly stood a bit and dove into kissing and sucking on her neck and shoulders, dragging a groan from Lara and a shiver of need. He pulled Lara up to stand for a moment, so Rex could work her tights down over her hips, burying his face in the top of her backside for a moment, kissing her and running a hand over her abdomen sensually. Lara kicked off her shoes and the pants quickly, and Fives reached behind her to pull the blankets and sheets down on the bed. Directing her gently, he pushed Lara to lay back on the bed, shucking his own pants and briefs off, freeing his hard cock from its confinement.

Rex stood quickly and pulled his shirt over his head, watching Lara as he did so, wanting to see her appreciation of his body as he revealed it. Her eyes were fixed on him, watching him hungrily. He undid his belt purposefully, slowly, almost in a teasing manner, then worked to unbutton the fly of his BDUs, one button at a time. Kicking his boots off next, he slowly worked his pants down over his hips, his hard cock popping free of his briefs, a testament to how badly he wanted her. Rex crawled onto the bed and made his way to sit behind her, while Fives laid down next to Lara. Fives pulled her onto his lap, clear of his shaft, pulling her down for a kiss. Her hair drifted around his face, surrounding him in the scent of cedar wood and orange, spice and flowers.

Lara felt Rex place his hands on her hips, pulling at her lightly to get her to raise them up, spreading her in front of him deliciously. Fives gently pushed her back, seeing understanding light her eyes. Lara leaned down and licked the tip of Fives’ hard cock, then took the spongy head into her mouth, gently sucking at it and hearing him moan. Before she could do more though, she felt Rex’s warm breath mist over her sex from behind, just as he ghosted the tip of his tongue over her swollen nub, nipping at it lightly and then pulling it in for a soft suck.

Lara’s eyes flew open and she couldn’t stop the primal groan from rolling out of her. Fives laughed lightly, seeing her face, meeting her eyes with his own darkly dilated. Lara raised her head a little, feeling Rex’s caresses behind her, sighed deeply and then leaned back down to take Fives in her mouth again, this time curling her tongue around his shaft, working him deeper with a careful bob. It was almost too overwhelming to do this, with Rex behind her, and Fives before her; she was afraid Rex would do something that would distract her from being careful. She felt him run his tongue over her folds, then felt him enter her as deeply as he could get himself with his hot tongue, and she moaned again as she worked to give Fives the attention he needed. She pulled at him with alternating light and deeper suction, working her hand at the base of his shaft and to massage his balls. She curled her tongue around his head lovingly and could taste his salty slick in her mouth, as he panted beneath her, working to hold himself back.

Rex moved back to suckling Lara’s sensitive, swollen clit, inserting a finger carefully into her warm, dripping wet pussy. He reached for the slightly rough, spongy nub within her that he knew was the center of her most sensitive nerve bundle, and pressed and rubbed against it carefully, applying gentle and then firmer pressure, feeling her body clench around him greedily. She was so wet and ready, he struggled to have patience. He heard Fives’ moan and knew he was getting close as well, and pulling away from her sex, Rex leaned over her back and asked huskily, “Can you take us both?”

Lara was breathing heavily, her eyes dark with arousal, the smell of both these men filling the room sharp as the tang of something burning. And really, all three of them were on fire, needing release. She nodded a little jerkily, somewhat off balance from her lust and excitement. Rex knew how she would want them without asking. He lay down on his back next to her, reaching for her with soft hands, as she straddled his lap. Fives moved to kneel behind her, his hands on her waist, gently holding her and waiting for her signal.

Rex gasped like a man burned when Lara eased his cock into her slick pussy, taking him all the way in one slow motion, like sheathing a sword. She leaned down and kissed his mouth deeply, their tongues sliding over each other in a slow ballet. She felt Fives pressing against her from behind, and she held her kiss with Rex as she felt Fives gently insert one finger to stretch her, then another, waiting until the muscles relaxed, before withdrawing. He raised her butt a little, pressing the tip of his cock against her tight opening, then slowly, carefully entered her, purring deeply as he felt the tightness of her with Rex inside her as well. Lara moaned deeply, the erotic sensation of the two of them inside of her nearly sending her over the edge, and she felt Rex squeeze her shoulders to steady her. “Not yet, hang on,” he said softly.

The two men started to move in tandem, alternating slow, gentle thrusts. Fives leaned forward some and cupped her breasts, running the tips of his fingers over the nipples and feeling their hard edges snap back in passing. He held them up slightly, seeing Rex lean up to take one in his mouth, suckling her, pulling at her steadily and hard. Lara bucked slightly, thrusting Rex more deeply into her center, feeling the stretch of both men inside of her, filling her up to an impossible degree. Over her shoulder, Fives made eye contact with Rex - he couldn’t hold on much longer.

Fives thrust into her gently but firmly, feeling the tightness of her squeeze and the sensation of Rex’s cock slide past his, divided only by the thin walls of Lara’s body. His fingers dug into her hips, and he closed his eyes tightly, taking a deep steadying breath. Rex looked up at Lara and stared deeply into her eyes - she pitched forward to kiss him, passionately, sucking on his bottom lip and even raking it with her teeth. Rex kissed her back, hard, feeling his own climax rising. He squeezed her shoulders and then reached one hand back to her butt and another he placed over her breast, kneading the soft flesh there, feeling her take her in deeply even as Fives drew back and thrust in. The friction finally sent Rex over the edge and he gasped, kissing her deeply and groaning as he spilled himself inside of her, the spasms driving Fives to his own orgasm as well. As they both came inside of her, the feel of their cocks spurting within her sent Lara into orbit. Her climax hit like a tsunami, rocking through her so that she suddenly thrust down on Rex, crying out as she bottomed him out within her, squeezing him of every last drop of his cum. She felt Fives holding on to her to support her from behind; he didn’t want her to hurt herself in the grip of her orgasm, so he rode with her, hearing her cries and feeling the contractions of her body around him. He coudln’t help himself, he leaned over Lara’s back as she shivered and moaned. Leaning down, Fives placed gentle kisses on her shoulder, carefully withdrawing from her, as she in turn kissed Rex slowly, lovingly. The aftershocks of her orgasm still squeezed Rex’s cock within her, and he reveled in the feel of her tightening on him, his seed starting to drip around him, making her even wetter than before.

“I could keep going, my goddess. Do you want me to keep fucking you?” His voice was rough and scratchy after crying out with his climax. He was so turned on by her, so in love that he coudln’t believe he was still hard, not even feeling the effects of having come once. Lara nodded drowsily. Rex rolled her onto her back and moved to stand beside the beside the bed, pulling her towards him and raising her ankles to his shoulders. He thrust into her smoothly and firmly, as Fives moved to be closer to her head from behind. As Rex thrust into her, Fives leaned over and kissed Lara deeply, his hand reaching over to caress her breasts, flicking the nipples gently, then wandering softly down to her swollen, sensitive clit. Lara moaned deeply, feeling him make gently soft circles around it as Rex fucked her, his thighs slapping against hers. There was no noise she could identify other than a rushing of blood in her ears, the assertive smack of Rex’s flesh against hers, and Fives’ soft breath near her ear.

She felt the wave of her climax approaching again, as Fives leaned over to suckle her breast, alternating between her nipple and her mouth. He gave her his tongue, running it over her hard palate, exploring her, tasting her, gently taking her bottom lip and pulling at it. Meanwhile he kept up the pressure on her nub, circling and applying pressure, feeling her muscles starting to tighten up for her finale. Rex started to thrust harder, pushing himself as deeply as he could get, feeling her walls start to close in around him again, and he saw Lara suddenly arch her back and let out a choked scream. Her tight pussy suddenly clamped down on him in rhythmic spasms and Rex lost himself in her, spilling over into her depths again, even as her contractions squeezed at him, massaging his cock deliciously. He moved within her for a few more moments, more lazily, wanting to savor the feel of her aftershocks and warmth. Finally, not wanting to overstimulate her, he leaned down and kissed her mouth softly.

“That was so good, my love. You did so good for me and Fives.” Lara heard Fives murmur agreement next to her, as he softly caressed her belly with his hand.

“I think we owe her a nice shower, don’t we, Rex?” Fives asked quietly.

Rex smiled down into her eyes, answering, “Of course we do.” He stood up, watching Fives dismount the bed and head to the bathroom to get the water on and warming. Rex leaned down and scooped Lara up into his arms, carrying her gently to the bathroom. Once he stepped into the large shower, he set her on her feet carefully, making sure she didn’t slip. Fives stepped into the shower with them, picking up her loofah and dropping some of her soap on it. The scent of lavender and vanilla swirled with the steam of the large tiled stall, and Fives moved to stand behind Lara, while Rex took some soap on his hand and started to rub it onto the soft skin of her front, still supporting her with one hand around her waist. Lara relaxed into his grasp, feeling them tenderly lather her , gently washing her body. They cleaned up all evidence of their lovemaking, while planting soft kisses on her wet skin, making her tingle with the sensation of their touch.

Rex ran his hands over her curves again, relishing the feel of the planes of her bones beneath the muscle. His fingers trailed down her abs to her mound, gently cupping it and applying pressure to her there, feeling her sigh in contentment and want. His fingers advanced gently, and he slipped one inside of her, feeling her spread her legs a bit to give him room, as Fives leaned down and kissed her neck and shoulders, tracing back up to kiss beneath her ear. He gently took her lobe into his mouth, biting it lightly and hearing her gasp. Lara felt her legs weaken a bit at the feel of Rex’s fingers applying pressure to her G spot firmly, almost tapping it or dragging softly across it, eliciting a groan from her lips. Fives turned her head to himself and kissed her mouth as Rex leaned forward to kiss her neck and shoulder, the pressure of his fingers getting more insistent, the palm of his hand pressing against her clit in just the right amount. Rex’s kisses trailed down to her breast, his left hand cupping her right, raising it so he could take the nipple into his mouth. He licked it, flicking it with the tip of his tongue, lapping at it slowly and then sucking at it slowly.

His fingers dove into her more insistently, and he knew he was on the right track as Lara’s ability to stand started to waver. Fives grasped her at the waist, helping to support her and hold her up so that Rex could continue his ministration, even as Fives worked to kiss and bite her on the neck, raking his teeth over the sensitive skin. Suddenly Lara fell off the edge, her orgasm rocketing through her body like an earthquake. Shaking, Fives took her weight and held her, as her body spasmed around Rex’s finders, and she cried out, tears dropping from her eyes at the intensity.

Rex looked deep into her eyes and said, his voice deep and sultry, “Did you like that, my goddess? Coming on my fingers? Feeling me fuck you like that?” Lara opened her eyes to gaze into his, the liquid brown pools shot through with golden flecks that always mesmerized her. She nodded languidly, still coming down from her high, resting in Fives’ arms. “What do you want us to do now, General? How else can we show you we worship you?” He saw her look change to something of exhausted defiance for a moment - his question struck her as slightly demanding, but damn they were making her feel so good. Seeing her hesitation and fight, Rex said a little more sternly, “Come on goddess, use your words. Tell us what you want me and Fives to do to your body.”

Taking a deep breath, Lara stood with Fives’ help and steadied herself. “I want to sit on Fives’ lap while you take me from behind, Rex. I want you to fill me up again, until I scream or cry or both, and we can’t function after.” She felt Fives laugh softly, his breath ghosting next to her cheek.

“You’re gonna let me in that tight pussy this time?,” he asked her, turning her head so he could get to her mouth. Fives kissed her slowly, a simmering lust on the edge of their action.

When he released her she breathed, “Yes. I want you to in my pussy, Fives. Who knows when I’ll see you again, get to touch you again? I want to make this last.”

Fives glanced over her shoulder at Rex and nodded. Reaching back he turned off the water of the shower and Rex stepped outside to grab towels. They dried Lara off carefully, gently, wrapping her up in its soft fluffy length, then both hurriedly dried themselves. Fives stepped over to her and swept her up in his arms, carrying her back to the bed still wrapped in her towel. He sat on the edge of the bed and scooted back to lean back against the pillows and headboard, pulling Lara onto his lap. She straddled his hips carefully, leaning forward to kiss his mouth softly at first, then more deeply. Fives opened his mouth under hers, his tongue searching for her own. They glided over each other, making out heatedly, her hands around his neck, her fingers spreading out to cruise through his short, thick hair.

She felt Rex settle on the bed behind her, on his knees. He leaned forward and kissed her shoulder, her neck, alternating soft sucks and little grazing bites with his incisors. At one point he nipped her a little harder, as if to get her attention, and she straightened, turning her head to kiss him, leaning back into his chest as Fives reached forward and undid her towel, pulling it off of her and letting it pool on the bed next to them. Lara could feel Fives’ cock hardening beneath her, and when Rex pressed himself against her back, she felt the tip of his own shaft stab into her, letting her know he was ready as well. Reaching below her with her right hand, she grasped Fives’ hard cock and rubbed the tip along her wet, hot cleft, seeing his eyes close in bliss at the sensation. She adjusted her seat and slid him home, hearing his moaning sigh at her tight squeeze, taking him deeply within.

Behind her she felt Rex press the tip of his cock against her other opening, letting it gently stretch the muscle there, waiting for her to relax, then slowly thrusting himself into her. She was so tight, he wanted to lose himself immediately, riding her until she bucked and he came in something near an explosion, but instead he took a deep, calming breath and rested his forehead against her shoulder. They all took a moment to get used to the feel of each other, breathing quietly simply together for a moment.

Lara looked into Fives’ eyes and nodded, feeling him slowly start to move within her, working in tandem with Rex. Again, the push/pull of them inside of her, their cocks brushing each other with only the thin wall of her vagina to separate their actions stirred the men to their climaxes quickly. Rex reached around Lara’s body to gently stimulate her clit, moving in small circles and giving pressure as he knew she liked. Fives held her body to himself closely, watching her face as they fucked her gently, lovingly. They wanted to give her pleasure, they wanted to worship her with their bodies. She was their goddess, the love of their lives, and they would do anything for her. Fives could tell she was getting close as she started to draw deeper pulls of air, started to arch her back into Rex. Rex wrapped his arms around her as she rested her head back into the crook of his shoulder, relishing the feel of them filling her up with their cocks. Fives leaned forward to caress her breasts, again suckling at her deliciously and tasting the salt of her skin, the residual of her soap on his tongue. He started to thrust a little harder, wanting to get as deeply in her as he could, hearing her moan as her finish came ever nearer.

Rex was being gentle from behind. He could see Fives’ eagerness to fuck Lara, to pound her a little from below, and he didn’t want to turn their pleasure into pain for her. So he kept a slow and steady movement, feeling her body squeeze around him, glorying in the feel of her smooth skin, the curve of her hips. His finger still made small circles on her swollen, tight clit, and he felt it start to spasm the tiniest bit, knowing she was about to finish. Looking at Fives he said, “Now Fives, cum in her now. Give it to her.”

Lara’s eyes opened like a cat’s eyes, small slits of pleasure that showed the glowing blue beneath. As she saw Fives let go, releasing himself within her, she felt her own orgasm hit her as Rex continued to stimulate her nub. Even as her climax hit and she bucked, Rex held her, kept his fingertip over her, applying pressure in a button pressing fashion, feeling her lose control as the contractions rolled through her. She pitched forward into Fives’ arms as Rex began to finish himself, thrusting into her harder now that Fives was done, the last vestiges of her orgasm vibrating against his cock in her ass. With one final thrust, Rex came, spurting thick, hot ropes of cum inside of her, feeling his own delicious spasms squeeze the last of his white gold into her. Rex bent over, placing kisses on her shoulder, then pulled out, laying beside her on the bed. Reaching over he pulled Lara off of Fives’ lap and snugged her body to his, while Fives took the damp towel and gently placed it between her legs to keep her clean from their endeavors. He lay on his side to face her, both men snuggling into her body, sated, feeling safe and at home with the goddess. Lara felt herself drifting off to sleep, secure in their arms, a pleasant fullness in her body, satisfied and tired.

Lara woke with a start, her eyes a little confused and wild wondering where the hell she was. The sun was bright over her head and she covered her eyes with her forearm quickly to give herself shade. A shadow stepped into the bright light of the sun; when her retinas recovered from their shock at the blinding light, she was able to focus on Rex. He wore a very bemused expression, his eyebrows raised and his eyes full of question.

“What uh… whatcha been doing up here, Lara?,” he asked carefully.

“Pretty sure I was sleeping,” she said a little evasively.

“And do you feel rested, after that ‘sleep’ you just had?” Rex quirked one eyebrow up and studied her with a mischievous little smirk.

Lara looked at him gaugingly for a moment. “Okay what was I doing?” She was waiting for the shoe to drop now. Had she been up here writhing and moaning? How embarrassed should she be. Who might have seen her? Oh god. Who might have seen her? Her face took on a comically horrified expression as the questions started to tumble around in her brain. “Please god tell me whatever I did, only you saw.”

Rex laughed softly and looked up, glancing back down the hill toward the town. “Far as I know, nobody saw you. But you were up here moaning a bit, and I distinctly heard you call both Fives and my name. So again I ask - what have you been up to in that mind of yours?” He knew in her pregnant state she often got quite demanding about her needs, but she’d never done this before. He was very curious what had been going on in her head.

Lara sat up, as Rex crouched down next to her, watching her patiently. He could see the wheels turning behind her eyes as she groped with the lingering heat of the dream, while she tried to come up with words that might explain herself to him. “It’s a good thing for you Fives isn’t here.”

“Because?,” he said slowly.

“Because in my debauched state, I may have enticed the two of you to take me together …” Rex’s eyebrows shot toward the sky. “… More than once.” His mouth opened a little in shock. Intrigued shock.

Rex sat back a bit on his haunches, grappling with that mental image. “So what you’re saying is, I shared you with Fives?” He had the most interesting smile playing at the corner of his mouth, like he wasn’t sure if he liked the idea, or simply didn’t know what to do.

Lara cleared her throat, feeling a dull creeping flood of embarrassment hit her. She knew she was blushing, and she brought her hands up to her face for a moment to hide her errant grin and giggles. Rex was old fashioned; she doubted she ever had to worry about him sharing her in the bedroom with anyone in this life. But she could tell the mental images of her dream intrigued him, quite against his will. “Um, yes, Rex, that’s what I’m saying. As I said it’s a good thing Fives isn’t here.”

Rex watched her face for another moment then stood and reached a hand down for her. Lara took the help and stood, falling into his arms when he pulled her to his body, wrapping his arms around her waist tightly. Rex murmured into her ear, “I guess I could always go see what Primer was doing…”

Lara gasped, scandalized and smacked his arm in surprise. “You would not!”

Rex laughed, surprised at her vehement reaction. “I could call Echo, I guess, too - at least he would remember what you liked… But Primer definitely has wanted into the club, you know.” Laughing. He was laughing behind his eyes, and was barely keeping in a real fit of chuckles. Lara knew he was joking - the man would never share her in real life at the same time as another. He wanted her all to himself when they were alone. But he was entertained by her embarrassment at the moment and was really digging the hooks in. “Hang on I have my comm here, let me just get Primer called up.”

Lara turned on her heel to stomp off. Over her shoulder he heard her words float back, “Do that Rex, and I’ll fuck him and make you sit there and watch.”

“Ooohhh, exhibitionist now are we? What if I like that idea?!” He saw two snapping bright blue eyes flash back at him as her pace got more choppy and angry. He laughed out loud at that point. Running to catch up to her, Rex grabbed her by the shoulders and turned to trot backwards for a couple of steps until she stopped. He quickly took the chance to kiss her, passionately, snogging her thoroughly for a moment, before pulling away and smiling into her eyes. “I can’t provide Fives for you, Lara, but I can do my best to remind you of how much I love you, if you’ll give me a chance.” He saw her expression soften, and added, “But if you call me Fives I’m gonna be forced to bend you over my knee and smack that butt of yours.”

Lara’s face broke up into a laugh, and she let Rex hug her to his chest. She kissed him back, feeling her desire for him rise, knowing the dream might never be a reality, but Rex was real and present and here, willing to give her everything he had for a moment of shared bliss. She ran her hands over his tight butt cheeks, grasping them and pulling his body to hers tightly, feeling the slight bulge of his hardening cock against her. As a last gesture, she ran her hand over his package, grasping his length firmly and handling his balls like a soft coin purse. He moaned softly in the back of his throat, his kiss deepening dreamily. Lara pulled away, and he could almost see the snarky reply before it formed and bubbled to the surface. “Okay. I’ll call you Primer.” She gave him a wink moved briskly past his body and reached back a firm smack on his ass, then broke into a sprint, laughing as she ran from him like a thoroughbred from the gate.

She heard Rex’s bemused, half laughing yell from behind her, “You’re so gonna get it, Lara! I know where you live!!!”

[neyswxrld]

the swamp cactus

Gree x reader (gn)

summary: Buying a Christmas tree with Gree!

warnings:  none

word count: ~600

advent calendar masterlist

a/n: this is the fourteenth fic for my advent calendar!

"What about this one?" Gree asks, pointing at another pretty tree.

"Hm, I don't know," you say, looking at it skeptically.

"Why not? It's pretty, the branches are well-proportioned, and it has a rich green," he says, and you nod. It really is a pretty tree.

"Yeah, you're right... But what about that one?" you ask him, pointing at another one next to it. It's small and... Well, it's small. The needles are very pointed, and it reminds you more of a cactus than a Christmas tree, and the green color makes you think of a swamp. All in all, the tree is ugly. Simply said.

Gree looks at you with a raised eyebrow.

"I thought you wanted the prettiest Christmas tree this year," he says, reminding you of your own words.

"Yeah, I know... But look at all those beautiful trees," you start to explain, and Gree nods as he's looking around.

"All of those trees are going to be bought sooner or later. They're going to find a happy family. Only this little one is going to stay here alone, because it's ugly. And then, after Christmas, it's going to be fire wood and it fell for nothing," you explain, looking up to Gree and squeezing his hand a little bit.

"Well, if you see it that way, every tree fell for nothing. They're standing in living rooms, making a nice decoration, and after that, they still end up as firewood. Besides, that tree looks like a swamp cactus," he more or less explains to you, saying aloud what you've been thinking only seconds ago.

"Yeah, I know, but... But I want the ugly one. It is going to be alone on Christmas," you almost whisper, a little bit embarrassed by your own thinking process. It's just a tree, you're not adopting a pet. You know that. But still...

"So you want to buy the ugliest tree because you have pity?" he tries to understand you, looking a bit confused.

"Yes?" you ask more than say, making some puppy eyes in his direction.

Shaking his head, he sighs before saying, "Okay. If this is what you want."

Almost excited, you nod, trying to grab the tree and take it with you. It's a little unwieldy, but you're happy that Gree decides to help you.

Together, you carry the swamp tree to your home, placing it in a tree stand and waiting for its branches to spread out the whole way.

A few days later, the two of you start to decorate the tree.

First, you put on some fairy lights, followed by red and golden baubles and some other shiny things. The needles pick at your skin more often than not.

Last but not least, it's only the star on top that has to be put on.

Normally, you would take out a ladder, but the tree is small enough that Gree should be able to put it on top without any problems.

Gree thinks otherwise and carefully grabs you by the hips. Squeaking, you grab his hands as tightly as you can, scared of falling down. "Oh!" you call out, startled by his actions.

"What, you don't trust me?" he asks, a bit comically, grabbing you a little bit tighter.

"Of course I trust you," you assure him, slowly letting go of his hands and taking the star. Carefully, you place it on top.

When he puts you down again, you two stand in front of the tree, looking at it skeptically.

"I mean, the baubles don't make it worse," you say, and Gree agrees.

"What an ugly Christmas tree."

TAGLIST:

@isthereanechoinhere96 @trixie2023 @freesia-writes

[sunshinesdaydream]

Rory Helianthus

Ella Orunitia

Corrie Guard OCs Thrill-2 3-SpicyABCs Assumptions Sharp 2 Even Knight 2-Moodboard 3-Spicy Patch 2

Clones & Culture OCs (other than clones) Amea Allossun

Mask Squad OCs Sargent Cypher-SFW Alphabet L Livewire-SFW Alphabet Shadow Shift Rave Jade (Jedi Knight with Mask Squad)-SFW Alphabet Spicy ABCs

Shift, Jade, and Clothes The Masquerade (the ship)

Right To Love OCs Greatheart (Clone) Isa ("Matchmaker")

Feel free to ask question or for head canons for any of my OCs.

I am always taking questions for my OC INTERVIEWS

[kotemf]

If soldier, why so buir shaped?

(You can find this on Ao3 too.) 

Fox was never particularly fond of cadets.

  During their training on Kamino, they were sometimes assigned to watch younger troopers and train with them. Fox hated those training sessions. Cadets were... they were tiny. Fragile. Fox always spend the session in fear of breaking their little bones. The cadets for their part were usually afraid of Fox. Fox didn't really know why. It certainly wasn't his face, the cadets liked the rest of his batchmates just fine and they loved Cody and Wolffe.

  Nat-born children tended to fear the clones, even if the Coruscant guard was there to help them, to protect them. They all learned not to take it personally, the armor probably did look rather intimidating to normal people and there were also loads of anti-war propaganda that usually antagonized clones because they were the ones who were fighting, it didn't matter to them that they only fought because they had to.

  So yes, Fox was quite surprised when a random Zabrak child ran up to him, hugged him and refused to let go. He looked around. There were no anxious parents looking for a lost kid.

  "Hey, what are you doing here all alone?" Fox tried his best to not look like a big, scary clone commander. He could tell his efforts weren't successful. In his defense, appear non-threatening in a full set of armor and a blaster strapped to your thigh was a pretty difficult task. The child didn't look scared of him, though. Quite the opposite.

  They didn't answer.

  "What's your name?" Fox tried instead. He wasn't good at guessing people's age but this child was at least five standard years old. Five years old nat-borns were old enough to know their name, right?

  The child muttered something Fox didn't quite catch.

  "Can you say it louder?"

  "I don't have a name."

  "You don't?" Now that was a situation Fox wasn't prepared for. As far as he knew, nat-borns were supposed to have names. According to everything he's ever read about nat-borns, parents usually named their child whie they were still a baby. They weren't like clones, who had to wait for when their batchmates picked them a name, usually based on something they did or something they liked.

  The little Zabrak nodded. After taking a closer look, Fox guessed they were most likely male but he wasn't certain.

  "Where are your parents?"

  "I don't know."

  "Alright. I will take you to my office now and we will find them."

  "No! I'm not supposed to find them."

  "What do you mean?" Nat-born children were supposed to love their parents, or at least Fox has always thought that. Because why wouldn't they? Nat-born parents weren't like the Kaminoans, emotionless and only caring about perfection. They weren't like the trainers, only trying to get the best results out of their trainees no matter what it cost. They weren't a genetic template who only wanted one son and money and didn't care about anyone else. No, parents were an entirely different thing. They loved their children, they protected their children and they provided for them. So why exactly wouldn't this nameless kid be supposed to find their parents?

  The child shrugged. "They left me here and told me not to follow them."

  Alright, that was weird. It almost sounded as if these parents wanted to get rid of their kid so they just left him alone on a random place on Coruscant? "Do you like your parents?"

  "No."

  "Why not?"

  "They are mean."

  So apparently parents could be mean. Fox supposed he was going to have to work with that. "And why did you come to me?"

  "Because you feel kind."

  "What?"

  "You feel kind," the kid repeated themselves. Fox had no idea what that was supposed to mean.

  "Okay. Now we will go to my office and get you something to eat, what do you say?" Fox hoped he was doing this right. He had no idea how to talk to children.

  "Okay."

  Bringing a child into the Coruscant Guard's headquarters was a big deal, apparently. Fox didn't do anything more than sit the kid in his office and give him a glass of water and some of the priced treats Fox sometimes got from the nicer senators that he liked to give shinies and his comrades in particularly bad situations. The only other food available were ration bars and that was no food for a child.

  Not that the kid was in need. Ever since Fox brought him in, troopers have been coming into his office, bringing the child treats that Fox didn't really know where they got from, makeshift toys or just to take a look.

  "Aww, he's so tiny!" Thire cooed upon seeing the kid.

  "Told you he's a cute little thing."

  "Shut up, Thorn. It's not my fault I had senate duty and couldn't come to look at him sooner."

  Fox made a show of covering the kids ears. 'Shut up' wasn't by far the worst thing that the troopers said and Fox usually didn't mind but there was a child in the room!

  "I never would have guessed that marshal commander I have a stick up my ass Fox would become such a buir." Thorn grinned at him. He seriously had to stop swearing around the child or else. And Fox shouls also probably get rightfully offended to save his reputation of having, as Thorn put it, a stick up his ass.

  "So that's how you address your commanding officers?"

  "Apparently."

  "You know, senator Clovis requested a bodyguard to accompany him to a meeting with banking clan..."

  "No. Not Clovis. Please. I beg you." Thorn seemed terrified. Any trooper would. Senator Clovis was always rather awful to clones and he was so suspicious the Corries had a betting pool on when he openly defected to the Seppies. 

  "Maybe if you will kindly stop swearing in front of a child, I might consider looking further, even if you certainly have all the required skills."

  "Yeah, sure. Anything. Just not Clovis."

  Fox decided to take that as a promise. The kid didn't seem to get what was going on but he wasn't complaining. A darling really.

  It was a few hours later that the boy started to get bored. Fox tried entertaining him with a holo movie but that didn't work, the child felt the need to share what was going on the screen every minute or so. So Fox downloaded him a video game. That seemed to work. Until now.

  "Do you really have to work?"

  "Yes."

  "Why do you have to work so much?"

  "Because I have things that need to be done and I have a certain amount of time for each of them. Like this form that I'm filling right now, this one needs to be done today," Fox did his best to explain. In his humble opinion, he was getting pretty good at answering the kid's curious questions.

  "Oh... Okay. And will you play with me when you're done?"

  "I will have some more work then but we can play when I'm done, okay?"

  "Okay."

  The kid was clearly trying to be quiet. He wasn't very good at it. He was either kicking into Fox's desk, opening random drawers and then always sighing in disappointment when there was nothing but stacks of paper work, or quietly humming to himself. It was distracting but Fox let it slide. He remembered how difficult it was for him and his batchmates to stay silent when they were cadets. The only thing keeping them quiet was their fear of the Kaminoans and the trainers and he didn't want this sweet little thing to ever experience something like that.

  "Fox?"

  "Yes, kiddo?"

  "Will you get angry if I make things float?"

  "What?"

  "If I make things float," the boy repeated himself.

  Fox wondered for a bit if floating had any other meaning than, well, floating. He didn't think of anything so he just assumed it was some kind of a game. "Of course I won't get angry."

  The child beamed at him. Then the boy reached out with his hand and made the data pad Fox borrowed him float.

  And that's how the Coruscant Guard got their Jedi.

[mae-lou-ron]

For Granted

Summary: Your beloved Gregor returns from a weeks-long mission for the clone underground, and after a long night filled with debriefings, he can’t wait to show you just how much he missed you while he was gone.

Pairing: Captain Gregor x f!reader

Warnings: 🚨 NSFW - SMUT AHEAD 🚨, 18+ MDNI, explicit sexual content and language, established relationship, mutual pining, cockwarming, unprotected PiV, edging, delayed orgasm, praise, soft!Dom Gregor, pleasure!dom Gregor?, oodles of fluff, Gregor can't keep his eyes (or hands) off you, color system safe words (only green used), aftercare, this is what I call a plot/smut/plot sandwich.

Word Count: 4,700

A/N: GOBBLE GOBBLE GREGOR GIRLIES. Happy to report I am posting this way earlier than I thought would be possible. (I finally did it @jetii, @captn-trex @lonewolflupe— again thank you for your constant inspiration and encouragement) This is the first smut I’ve ever posted and I guess decided to just go for it. I don’t know what to tell you, I just feel like Gregor would be such a soft and needy little pleasure dom. Okay, bone apple tea my fellow feral goblins. DO NOT PERCEIVE ME.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was late—very late.

The away team shuttle had touched down hours ago, but before you could greet Gregor properly, Rex had swooped in and intercepted him before he even made it down the gangplank. Their mission to the ruins of Tipoca City had proven successful, and Rex wanted to know everything.

For nearly two weeks, they dove beneath the old cloning facility's wreckage, searching the depths for anything that survived the orbital bombardment—especially for anything that could help them better understand the inhibitor chips. As you observed him from across the holotable, you noted the exhaustion that marked your beloved's features. His bloodshot eyes had dark circles beneath them, and though he tried his best to stay alert and focused, the weariness was clearly setting in. Yet, despite his current state, Gregor's gaze kept finding its way back to you, his lips curving into a small smile whenever your eyes met.

You listened and updated the data banks while Rex thoroughly questioned Gregor and his team about their operation. When Rex was finally satisfied with what was recovered, the meeting adjourned. As you gathered your things, you couldn’t help but steal glances at Gregor, hoping this was finally the moment for your long-awaited reunion—but he remained deep in conversation with Rex, their heads bent together. You sighed inwardly but couldn't help glowing with admiration for him.

He was probably the most lighthearted of his brothers, but Gregor showed unwavering dedication to his work—particularly when it involved Rex. After all, Rex had orchestrated Gregor's rescue from the Empire by sending the Bad Batch to extract him, saving Gregor from the Empire's grim plans for clone troopers like himself.

Rex's relentless pursuit to understand and neutralize the inhibitor chips strengthened Gregor's dedication to the mission. For Gregor, helping Rex wasn't just about loyalty—it was about preventing other clones from enduring the same fate. This devotion extended to everyone Gregor held dear, including you. He had become not only your lover but your best friend and closest ally in the growing clone rebellion. You had become one of the few anchors in each other’s lives that had been plagued with uncertainty.

From your first meeting, you were irresistibly drawn to him—and he made no effort to hide his magnetic attraction to you. Even now, his keen eyes would seek you out first whenever he entered a room. True to form, Gregor's gaze shifted to you over Rex's shoulder again, silently expressing his longing to be near you after so many days apart. You caught his eye and flashed a playful smirk, pressing a fingertip to your lips before extending it toward him. He would always wink in return. Though your relationship was no longer a secret, you both treasured this little ritual—a wordless exchange of adoration between the two of you.

Back in your quarters, you changed into your sleep clothes and settled into bed. Propped against pillows with your data pad in hand, you intended to review the new data decryptions while waiting for Gregor's return, hoping he might have more enticing ways to keep you awake. But the warmth of your bed and the quiet hum of recycled air lulled you to sleep with surprising swiftness. Your eyes grew heavy, thoughts of him blurred behind your lids until you drifted off.

A short while later, you stirred from a light sleep when you felt the bed dip. With gentle hands, Gregor retrieved your fallen data pad and slid under the covers behind you. His strong arms enveloped you, drawing you against his chest.

"Stars, I've missed you, my darling," Gregor sighed into the space between you. Your eyes fluttered open as his lips pressed into the back of your shoulder, sending a thrill down your spine.

The familiar spicy scent of him filled your nose—he must have hit the fresher before coming to bed. You hummed contentedly and turned within his arms to face him, your lips curling into a sleepy smile. "Missed you too," you murmured.

Gregor's tired eyes were filled with warmth and adoration in the dim light. His hand gently cupped your cheek, thumb brushing over your skin. "Sorry I'm late..."

"S'okay," you leaned into his touch. "You're here now, and at least I know you're not just another dream," you said into his chest as you yawned.

Gregor's heart thrummed at your words. The thought of you dreaming about him stoked the ever-present desire he seemed to hold for you. "How's the burn?" he asked instead, softly moving his hand down, fingertips skimming over the fresh scars on your hip.

"All healed now. Rex was right, of course," you grumbled. The former captain had benched you from field work due to the blaster fire that grazed you on your last mission. Though you'd insisted it was healed enough, Rex wouldn't budge. You knew he was right, but being sidelined grated your nerves— especially since it was your intel they were operating on.

"You really scared me for a minute there, you know," Gregor whispered, his voice lilted with emotion as his fingers traced the newly healed scar.

You kissed the tip of his nose and gave him a knowing smile. "You should know better than anyone, love. It takes more than that to keep someone down," you murmured, covering his hand with your fingertips. A pitchy chuckle escaped him as he pressed his forehead to yours, recognizing the echo of his own resilient spirit in your words. But his face fell incrementally as he found his next words.

"I still wish you could have been there, on Kamino," he confessed, his voice solemn. He didn’t have to say anything, but you knew how strange returning to Kamino was going to be for him. He had his brothers with him, but you’d hoped to be there for him too.

"You just wanted a chance to see me in my swimming gear," you quipped instead.

Gregor's eyes sparkled as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing the corner of your mouth with a quiet rumble. "Can you blame me? Thinking of you in any state of undress was all I had to keep me sane out there," his words and lips danced against your cheek.

You squirmed in his embrace as his hand trailed up and down your body, fingertips once again sweeping over the swell of your hip. "But I always love seeing my cyare like this…" he added, his warm hand giving you a playful squeeze, referring to the teeny tiny shorts you often wore around your shared quarters, just for him.

“Oh? And why is that?” You said with a raised eyebrow, feigning ignorance at how his eyes would habitually follow you around whenever you wore them. Not to mention the mischief he would promise when he saw you wearing any of his clothing, and tonight you had grabbed one of his shirts to sleep in.

“Because it’s what you’re comfortable in,” he sighed contentedly as his fingers slipped under the hem, grazing the soft skin at the small of your back.

Being under his focus with such reverence made your heart pound in your ears, his magnetic touch constantly drawing you in. Your fingers traced the line of his jaw. "Will you just kiss me, already?" you whispered, forgetting your teasing.

Gregor hummed as his lips met yours, sweet and gentle, his hands rediscovering every curve and contour. You melted into his radiating warmth, the steady rhythm of his heart. When you nibbled his bottom lip, it earned you a deep moan and a roll of his body against yours. Your fingers wove through his damp hair, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened, his tongue moving softly against yours.

Your lips danced together in a sensual rhythm, exploring and tasting with unhurried devotion as his fingers threaded through your hair, cradling the back of your head. Each sweep of his tongue against yours sent shivers down your spine, the kiss deepening with an intensity that made your toes curl and your heart race. Through every tender touch, he conveyed how deeply he'd missed you, and a familiar heat had bloomed between you fueled by days of delayed desire. The warmth of it coursed through your veins, spurring you on.

Eager to feel his skin against yours, you tugged off your shirt and pushed at his. Gregor chuckled softly and obliged, pulling off his shirt with deliberate slowness before tossing it aside. Under your fingertips, his body felt electric as you traced the familiar scars adorning his soft, golden skin. A shiver ran through him at your touch, and he groaned when your lips found his shoulder.

"Darling, I need you…" he purred, his thumbs hooking into the waistband of your shorts. His voice dropped lower, thick with desire. He paused, eyes intense and yearning as they locked with yours. "I've thought of you every night. Your kiss, your smile, the sounds you make for me." His fingers gripped your hips possessively, sure to leave marks. "Tell me, meshla," he breathed. "Did you think of me too?"

You let out a soft whine, your head falling against his chest as a breathy "Yes," escaped your swollen lips.

"Tell me..." he implored, his body rolling into yours once more. "Did I hear you say you dreamt of me?"

"Of course I did," you confessed softly, leaning close. Your lips brushed against the shell of his ear as intimate desires and details of your self-indulgent dreams tumbled from your lips. Gregor shivered, your warm breath tickling his skin. His fingers flexed as he strained to catch every hushed syllable. These whispered words were for him alone.

His chest rumbled with a deep, guttural sound. "Cyare," he whispered, the word dripping with honey.

You lifted your hips as he slid your shorts down your legs. Once free, he swooped in to kiss you again, this time with more fervor as his hands roamed your newly exposed skin. He swallowed the soft gasp that escaped your lips when his fingers dipped between your legs, growling appreciatively at how ready you were for him.

You whined at his touch, your fingertips curling around the base of his neck. Gregor sighed, his breath hot against your shoulder as he trailed kisses down to your collarbone. You heard him chuckling quietly as his fingers teased your sensitive flesh. "…and I’ve barely touched you yet,” he teased.

You huffed in response and started pushing his shorts over his hips, firmly grasping a handful of his taught backside in the process causing him to hoot and giggle softly. "I told you what I’ve been thinking about… come here…" you begged, your voice barely above a whisper. Once free of his own clothing, you hooked your leg around his waist, drawing him to you. Gregor hissed at the contact, his hips instinctively rocking against yours. You felt the head of his length glide along your entrance and up to your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core.

Gregor let out a deep hum, gathering his self control. "I can't say no to you," he grunted, slowly sliding his length back up and down a few times before notching at your entrance. His lips met your forehead as he eased into you. You bit your lip as your body welcomed him, eyebrows furrowing at the sudden fullness. Despite the delicious sting of him at first, you craved him—eager for more, for all of him. But Gregor picked up on your body’s signal and paused. His head came back to regard you, eyes filled with concern and love.

"Cyar'ika," he whispered tenderly. His thumb traced your cheek and trailed down to your lips. You smirked, drawing the digit into your mouth with a soft moan, swirling your tongue around it. Gregor's eyes locked onto yours, awestruck at the sensation. "That's it…good girl," he purred, the wolfish smile that followed his praise sent a shiver down your spine. He withdrew his thumb from your mouth with a quiet pop, and brought it between your bodies, using the wetness to circle your clit.

Your body quivered, soft moans and whimpers escaping your lips as he continued his feather light touches, sending more of that delicious heat coursing through you. Your walls fluttered with pleasure, silently urging him to fully sheath himself within you. As his hips finally met yours, you both exhaled deeply, savoring the intense connection of being completely joined together.

"Let’s stay like this for a little while, hm?," he murmured against your hairline between soft kisses. "I just want you close," he breathed, his hand trailing tenderly along your spine.

You hummed in confirmation, melting into his affection. "I love you," you sighed, fingers combing through his hair. Your bodies fit together perfectly, hearts beating as one, breaths mingling in gentle pants. Being with Gregor, it never felt like enough—you both craved an impossible closeness. These tender moments were precious, when he held you like this, driven by his pure need to feel you around him, to eliminate any space between you.

"And I love you." Gregor's kiss was so tender it made your head swim. His lips traced reverently across your skin, each caress a silent vow, his heart full at how perfectly you melded together. When the kisses and touches naturally grew more heated, you felt him stir within you as your bodies instinctively began to move. With gentle purpose, Gregor rolled you, pressing your back into the mattress and caging you in with his large frame. His lips found that spot on your neck as he began a slow, intense rhythm that drew a litany of soft moans and whimpers from you. Your nails trailed down Gregor's back as he pressed against that sweet spot deep inside you. He dragged his length almost completely out before thrusting back in, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

"Stars… cyar’ika, you…" he panted, his movements becoming more deliberate. You wrapped your legs around him fully, urging him deeper, whimpering in is ear to do it again. The tension between you reached its peak all too quickly, weeks of anticipation setting your every nerve ending on fire. Gregor murmured sweet praises against your skin, intent on bringing you there together. You teetered on the edge, your body trembling with each slow thrust. "Gregor," you breathed in a desperate plea. "I'm..."

“I know,” he grunted. “I’ve got you…” He gentled his movements to a pace he knew would send you over. He felt your entire body tense, arching into him as your climax struck you with a sudden intensity. A shuddering moan escaped you as your hand in his hair tightened, tugging at the strands. He couldn't hold back any longer—the way your walls fluttered around him, squeezing him so tightly, your grip in his hair, the sounds you were making—it was all too much, and he gladly fell over the edge with you.

His hips jerked as he moaned your name, pressing flush against yours as he found his release inside you. You held him close while you both trembled and panted through waves of pleasure. His hips rolled gently against yours through the aftershocks. As the hazy bliss settled over you both, Gregor began dotting your face and neck with tender kisses.

“Gregor…” you protested lazily, lips curling in a fond smile. He always melted into his softest self in the afterglow.

He chuckled quietly, nuzzling your neck. "What? You know I can’t ever get enough of you…" His lips brushed against your skin, making you tremble slightly. You were grinning ear to ear now, despite your half-hearted protest.

“That makes two of us,” you said huskily, floating down from your high.

You lay tangled together in peaceful silence, your breathing and heartbeats gradually returning to normal. The gentle rise and fall of his chest against yours created a soothing rhythm that made you feel completely at ease. A while later, when your combined arousal began to slip down your thigh, Gregor shifted, preparing to retrieve something to clean you both up.

“Don't you dare," you warned teasingly, tightening your entire body around him, making his breath hitch.

“Cyar’ika…” he said in a low, playful voice, twitching inside you. “Careful now…”

You smirked, loving the way his voice dropped an octave. "Or what?" you challenged, your eyes gleaming with mischief.

Gregor chuckled, a predatory grin spreading across his face. "Oh, my darling," he chuckled lightly, his hand sliding down your body and gripping your ass, making you burst into giggles, "You love playing with fire, don’t you,"

"Mmm, I do when it encourages you to ravish me all night, love," you said with a dramatic flair, unable to hide the mirth from your voice, reminding you of the intimacy you’ve built with Gregor. It was fiery and magnetic, but always fun. You loved to push each other’s buttons to see how far you could go. After all, you cherished these quiet moments together when there was no need to rush.

Gregor groaned at your words, his grip on you intensifying. "Oh, you're in for it now," he rasped as he swiftly rolled onto his back, pulling you over with him to straddle his hips. He sat upright and curled his hand around the base of your neck, pulling you into a searing kiss. The sound that escaped you at this new angle was absolutely sinful, making him twitch inside you once again. He immediately began a gentle pace, guiding your hips into his shallow thrusts. You gripped his shoulders tightly, seeking an anchor amid the electricity firing deep within you. Your oversensitive bundle of nerves dragged against the base of his length, making you grind down on him more desperately.

Sensing your growing urgency, Gregor gently slowed your movements. His hands caressed your sides soothingly as he looked up at you with adoration. "Shhh cyar'ika, look at me…" he murmured, his voice low and tender. Your eyes fluttered open to gaze into his, dark and warm and focused on you. "I know, it feels so good." His voice strained, thumbs traced circles on your hips as he guided you back into that slower, more deliberate rhythm Gregor loved to torture you with. You whimpered at the change of pace, but soon found yourself melting into the languid, sensual motion. Gregor's eyes never left your face, enjoying watching you give in. "That's it, just feel," he whispered. "There’s no rush. I’ve got you…"

Gregor's movements periodically slowed to a halt, prolonging the intense pleasure building between you. Each time, he held you close, guiding you both toward that long-awaited peak. His arm snaked beneath you, holding you to him with effortless strength, preventing you from taking him completely. He knew exactly how much to give, bringing you to the edge over and over. He savored the sounds you made during the slow, frustrating dance, careful not to overstimulate as he kept you balanced on the edge of a knife.

Your body trembled, every nerve ending alive and hypersensitive, your breaths came in short, desperate moans. You clung to him, nails digging into his back and his scalp as you fought against the overwhelming urge to let go, somewhere between savoring every exquisite moment of him inside you and every cell in your body screaming for release. Gregor felt your body go rigid and quiver, he glanced down noticing how tightly your toes were curled, then up to your eyes squeezed shut in concentration.

"Cyar'ika, what's your color?" he managed to say through the haze. He himself was hanging by a thread.

"Green," you groaned gently. "Please, I need..."

Gregor's eyes snapped open at your words, his grip on you stuttering. "Tell me what you need," he nearly growled. "I need to hear you say it, cyar'ika."

“Please...” you breathed. “I need to come."

With a low groan of approval, Gregor knew he’d pushed you to a new limit, and captured your lips in a soft kiss, slowly lowering you down fully onto his length once more. "Then come for me, my love, let go…" he murmured against your lips as he loosened his hold on you incrementally, encouraging you to writhe against him at your own pace. He swallowed the moans that escaped your throat as you did so, your fingers tangling in his hair again as you finally let yourself go.

He held you to him as your body shook, waves of ecstasy sweeping through you, your inner walls pulsing wildly around Gregor's length. He buried his face in your shoulder, his own climax following yours as he thrust himself deep inside with a low, guttural sound. You clung to each other, riding out the lingering tremors, your core gradually relaxing its grip on him. Hearts raced and chests heaved as you both savored the moment. With one more gentle rock of his hips, he pulled you down, creating a delicious pressure that sent one final, intense ripple of pleasure coursing through you, reducing whatever composure you had left and turning you into a whimpering mess.

“Thats it,” he soothed as you collapsed against him, head lolling forward as he secured you against his broad chest. You hummed contentedly, nuzzling into the crook of his neck as your breathing slowly steadied. Gregor's fingers continued their gentle caress along your skin, calming your tense muscles and fluttering heart.

“You did so well,” he praised. “We haven’t gone that long before,” he grinned at you, giggling softly, a sheen of sweat on his skin.

You chuckled softly, feeling an ache in your hips and knees. "Mmm, I think we both needed that," you murmured, wincing slightly as you shifted your legs around his frame.

“Here, I’ve got you,” he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips as he helped you shift positions, knowing your joints sometimes didn’t love it as much as you did.

His strong arms cradled you as he maneuvered you off him, finally slipping out and eliciting a soft sigh from you. He bit his lip, barely suppressing a groan as he glanced at the evidence of your passion. Once you were settled, he quickly jumped out of bed and disappeared into the fresher, returning moments later with a warm cloth.

His fingertips trailed up the outside of your knee, reminding you he was still there. You smiled and opened up for him to gently clean you up. His touch was tender as he took care of both of you. Once finished, he tossed the towel aside and crawled back onto the bed and got to work on massaging the soreness from your legs.

You sighed contentedly as Gregor's skilled hands worked out the tension in your joints. "You're too good to me," you murmured sleepily. He responded with a soft chuckle, his touch gentle yet firm as he eased away any lingering discomfort. “Love, I know you’re exhausted, come here…”

He chuckled and planted tender kisses on each knee before settling beside you, drawing you close against his chest. You nestled into his warmth, savoring the lazy patterns he traced on your back with his fingertips.

You tilted your head up to press a gentle kiss beneath his chin, savoring the closeness. “I’m so happy you’re home…”

Gregor sighed contentedly. “Me too.”

You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you should bring up his time on Kamino. The topic always felt delicate, and you didn't want to stir up difficult memories. But his peaceful expression gave you courage.

“How was it being back there?" you asked softly.

“Well, the first few days were…strange, but not in the way I thought they would be,” he confessed quietly.

“How so?” You pressed a chaste kiss to the side of his neck, absentmindedly inhaling his scent.

“Some clones considered Kamino their home, but I’ve never really felt more at home than I do here. With the underground. With you.” His voice stuttered on the last few words.

You felt your heart swell, and you pulled him closer, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Good, because I feel the same way…”

Gregor's arm tightened around you, and you felt him release another contented sigh against your hair. In this moment, everything felt exactly as it should be - no missions, no war, just the two of you finding solace in each other's arms. You held one another close, happy to be back in one another’s orbit.

"Darling..." Gregor's voice took on a somber tone as he tightened his arms around you. "I received new orders from Rex tonight." He paused as you tilted your head back to look at him, his expression serious. You felt your body tense, preparing for the worst. "And, well, it’s not just that," he continued, his lips curving into a frown.

“What is it?” your hand brushed his disheveled hair out of his eyes, your heart clenching at the thought of him being gone again so soon, without you. Rex had yet to clear you for your injury, and you felt your stomach drop at the thought of being left behind on base again for another mission.

Gregor took a deep breath, as if to steady himself. "I know it's short notice, but... I told Rex you’d have no problem shipping out by midday tomorrow..." He gazed at you intently, his trademark mischievous smirk betraying his attempt at a somber expression. He was a terrible liar.

Your eyebrows shot up at the realization.

Now his face was in a full grin. "Mhm...you’re coming with." He quipped. “Though I’m sure Rex wouldn’t mind if you wanted to stay behi—”

“No!” you trilled, propping yourself up onto your elbow. “I’m ready,” you insisted.

“You don’t even know what the mission is yet, love,” he chuckled, it was hard to resist mirroring your excitement.

“I don’t care,” you sighed. “I’ve been cooped up…it’s boring when everyone is gone,” you groaned.

“Don’t you mean it’s boring when I’m gone?” Gregor teased.

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't hide your smile. "Maybe," you admitted, snuggling back into him. "But don't let it go to your head." Your fingers traced lazy patterns on his chest as you soaked up the warmth of his presence, grateful to soon be back to doing what you do best.

Gregor laughed softly, his chest rumbling beneath your fingertips. "Have we met?," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. As you lay there, wrapped in each other's embrace, a sleepy silence settled over you both. The anticipation of being briefed for tomorrow's mission hummed just beneath the surface, but for now, you were content to simply exist in this moment.

“You’re a terrible liar, by the way…” you said as you curled into him. He just chuckled softly as you let your eyes close, feeling the tendrils of sleep start to curl around you.

Soon, the familiar weight of Gregor's body and gentle rhythm of his breathing lulled you into a peaceful state. His fingers continued their soothing caress along your back, growing slower and more languid as sleep began to claim him too. The last thing you remembered before surrendering was the gentle press of Gregor's lips against your forehead and his whispered "Ner cyare..." You mumbled a sleepy response, already half-lost to dreams of tomorrow's adventures.

[skellymom]

"AMBER EYES"

Bad Batch TECH Fan Ficlet x READER

A story of HOPE for Tech Fan's: Resident of Pabu unlocks a secret even THEY weren't aware they had access to!

(Credit: Pinterest Bad Batch, Saphira Laufens, Dividers @saradika)

Word Count: 475

Rated: SAFE for EVERYONE! ENJOY!!!

“Can you hold this for a minute?” 

Omega handed me her brother’s goggles while she wiped down the shelf they would be resting upon in the Archium. 

Clean up and repairs to the island and the artifacts museum were underway after the Empire had left the planet of Pabu...and when the clones returned. 

They helped the residents of the island put their lives back together.

We helped them find a better life here. 

Crosshair was the one to locate Tech’s goggles under some heavy rubble Wrecker lifted out of the way.  His eyes catching a glint of light reflected off the remaining amber glass of its lenses. 

I held the goggles, staring into what was left of that glass. 

Unfortunately, I came to the island after he perished on a distant planet.  Never got the chance to meet him. 

Pity that.   

I became close to his remaining brothers and sister.   

It started with Hunter.  According to him, he has enhanced senses.  I clocked him right away... 

Just a feeling.   

But that’s been most of my life.  Small snatches of intuition... 

Lucky guesses...they happen occasionally.  Fortuitous events that helped me navigate my life in this ever-changing galaxy. 

Wrecker’s strength, Crosshair’s eyesight, Omega’s empathy and strategy... 

And Tech’s superior intellect. 

We all have gifts. 

I lift the goggles up to stare through them as Tech would have done.  That amber glass captivating me... 

Hunters head snaps up quickly.  I can FEEL his stare. 

My hands suddenly go numb...like when cold wind rushes over them. 

The Archium’s walls dissolve into blue, cloudy skies and it handicaps my equilibrium... 

I trip and fall...hear Wrecker screaming... 

Down. 

Down. 

Down. 

A shattering impact.  I suddenly cannot see... 

Don’t know how long I was...GONE...but the feelings of being in my own body returns.  I’m cradled in the warm arms of Wrecker.  His face along with Hunter, Crosshair, and Omega’s hover over me as I lay on the floor. 

“What happened?” Crosshair’s expression is one of concern. 

I lift up the goggles, clutched TIGHTLY in my hand and gaze at the splintered amber lenses. 

“Tech.” is all I can muster. 

“Whatta’bout Tech?” Wrecker asks with trepidation. 

Staring into those lenses, I inhale and exhale.  I’m breathing...he’s breathing...WE are breathing simultaneously. 

“I...felt...FEEL HIM...he’s...ALIVE.”   

All eyes widen, then shift to their Sergeant. 

Hunter’s eyes discern SOMETHING...he doesn’t understand what.  But he believes what I’m saying.  Can read it in his expression. 

He then taps the comm on is wrist. “Havoc 5, do you copy?” 

Silence, then a grumpy voice answers back “I copy Havoc 1.” 

“Rendevous at our coordinates.  Recon mission for Havoc 2“ 

Stunned silence, then an excited reply “Enroute IMMEDIATELY Havoc 1!  Havoc 5 OUT!!!” 

“You’ll help us find..?” Hunter requests as he reaches for my hand. 

I grip it firmly with conviction. “Yes...look forward to FINALLY meeting him.” 

To read Chapter 2

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/767923139764207616/amber-eyes-chapter-2?source=share

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[sillywizardvoice]

someone PLEASE send me fic recs for codywan I literally don’t care WHAT they are. I think I’ve combed through like all the really popular ones and then some and I just… I need my boys. Feel free to self plug too I literally just need my juice

[moomoog017]

fic ᯓᡣ𐭩 just a skim ꔛ✿

Commander Wolffe x Medic! GN Reader

Synopsis: After a risky mission, Jedi Master Plo Koon decides to hire a full time medic aboard his ship. 

Genre: tiny angst with fluff n’ spice

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: Small description of burn injury, protruding veins (if you like that stuff), character in pain

A/N: 1st Wolffe writing!! This was fun to write, I did my best but what do you think? Writing under the cut!

“I’d like to introduce you to our new medic, they will be staying with us until further notice.” General Plo Koon states, sticking a hand out ushering you from the darkness. You cower behind the Jedi, smiling gently giving a small wave to the crew. “Glad to be working with you guys.” Is all you manage as all the clones eyes on you makes you shrink. Some clones smile or wave back but one gets your attention. He stands apart from everyone else, up front and arms crossed. Your eyes meet his gaze, you quickly take notice of his cybernetic right eye. Your eyes fall from his as your face begins to flush pink. Plo Koon places a gentle hand on your shoulder, making you stand up straight. This is going to be awkward. This will be your first time living with a lot of people in such a closed area, but you were going to make it work.

About 2 months later…

“Ah Kriff!” Wolffe curses, rushing to you, hand resting just under his rib cage on his side. Your eyes widen as you hurry to remove things from your stretcher. He slams down sitting upright onto it. “What happened?” You shuffle to get your medical supplies, placing it down next to Wolffe. “Damn clanker! Got me just in time.” Wolffe’s gruff voice echoed through the room. “Where’s everyone else?” You fumble your gauze as you speak. “Safe, only I got hit.” He gritted through his teeth. “I need to remove your chest armor and blacks.” You stutter. Wolffe nods, helping you remove it, along with shimming out of the top half on his blacks. He takes a sharp inhales through his teeth as you peel the fabric closer to his wound. A hole present from the droid's shot. You pull them down, relieving the wound in full. Scanning Wolffe's wound, a sigh of relief washes over you. “It’s only a graze, just some burn care and disinfecting.” He scowls. “Still hurts like hell.” A small smile grazes your face, relieved he still has his usual attitude.

You turn away to grab the disinfecting liquid from a nearby cabinet. You drip some of the liquid onto a gauze pad and move your hand to his wound. You gently dab the gauze onto his burn. He grunts, squeezing the edges of the stretcher. You notice the veins on his arm protruding, and his muscles tense as he grasps at the metal. The blood rushes to your cheeks as your face gets hot. Your eyes quickly return to his wound. Removing the gauze, you get up once more to grab the burn cream. Taking a small metal scoop, you coat the burn with the cream. The commander looks down at you taking a heavy inhale. The burning and slightly cold sensation of the scoop and cream makes him cringe. “Does that feel better?” You ask hesitantly. “I guess, not the first time I’ve been shot.” His face flat as he looks to his burn.

“Any more concerns doc?” You open your mouth as if to speak but quickly you close it. “What?” Wolffe responds. The question burning through you, ever since you saw him. “Your eye, what happened to it?” He looks down. “Ventress.” He scowls at the name. A small “o” appears on your face. “I’m sorry.” Is all you can manage. You walk closer sitting beside Wolffe on the stretcher. You slowly lift your hand to his chiseled face. He cautiously watches you but doesn’t stop you. Your hands meet his skin, you take your finger tracing his scar. Wolffe watches as you gently trace over his face. A small grin emerges from his mouth. After tracing his scar, you move your hand to his cheek, feeling his cheekbones and rubbing your thumb over it. Wolffe softly takes your hand and places it on his thigh. “It’s ok, it’s been a while.”

You smile admiring him. You’ve never been this close to your commander. You can’t help but take in the image of him. You’ve never seen his bare body before, his chest toned and coated with a shine of sweat. His tan skin enhances his features so handsomely. You feel your face turn extra warm as you shift your eyes to his. Wolffe smirks as he takes notice of you admiring his form, a glare in his fake eye. “Like what you’re seein’?” He speaks, his voice smooth and flirtatiously. “Ah yeahh.” Is all you can manage, words stuck in your throat. Trying to shake the image from your thoughts. “You’re getting really red in the face (y/n).” Wolffe’s voice was low, he was just teasing you now. His smirk plastered proudly upon his face. “So what?” You defensively say, crossing your arms. “Admit it, mesh’la.” The word rolls off his tongue, lingering in the air. The word sends a shiver down your spine, you know what it means. “You’re starting something.” Your eyebrow raises. “Your eyes say it all.” Wolffe stands up from the stretcher, a small wince escaping his lips.

His figure towers over you, your heartbeat speeds up and your breaths become short and hot. Wolffe leans over you, locking you in his arms, hands pressed firmly on the stretcher just barely touching your thighs. You bite your lip in anticipation, your thighs pressed firmly against each other. “Commander…” Embarrassed, you look away. “Look at me mesh’la.” Wolffe says soft but his words are firm. Your eyes slowly meet his, your cheeks warm. The commander brings his face closer to yours lips, almost touching. “I’ve always liked you (y/n).” His eyes burn into yours, he glances to your lips. You had no words, the feeling overwhelming you. “So sweet, a little shy, a little feisty.” Wolffe’s hot breath sweeps across your already burning face. He leans in a little closer and your lips meet. Your eyes close and his rough lips meet your soft ones. Your heart is sent a flutter and all you can hear is your own heartbeat. The feeling so warm and exciting, the feeling of his lips leaves yours as he pulls away after a moment. A small frown tugs at the corner of your lips.

The commander's arms are still holding you still on the stretcher. The sound of the door opening has Wolffe quick on his feet releasing you as he stands up straight, clearing his throat. In return you stand up scrambling to gather your medical supplies. “How is the commander (y/n)?” Plo Koon's voice is deep and sweet. “All good sir!” Wolffe is quick to respond. His response is followed by your nod. “It's just a skim.” Plo nods, satisfied with your answer. “Commander, you're needed in the cockpit.” The Jedi speaks flatly. Wolffe nods quickly whispering in your ear. “We’ll finish this later mesh’la.” His breath skims your ear making you jump a little. You nod your head but Wolffe is already leaving. Plo Koon’s eyebrow raises slightly. You send Plo an awkward lopsided grin. Plo nods his head, removing himself from the room. A small smile forces its way upon the Jedi’s face, as he leaves.  

[leapingbadger]

Amends

Summary: Takes place after the season 3 episode “The Return”. Hunter and Crosshair trust each other again and are on their way to a reconciliation, but they still need to communicate. That’s where Wrecker comes in. Read on AO3

Notes: This follows along with canon for the most part. If interested, you can also check out some of my other stories at these links: Hope; Sunrise; Sunset, Goodbye, Tattoo, Tested and Safe

Word Count:2644

Wrecker stood at the foot of the steps to the Marauder. The Pabu sun was beating down on him, sweat prickling at his neck. He hesitated before taking the first step up to the ship. It had been three days since they had returned from the ice planet. Things were better. Hunter and Crosshair weren’t actively avoiding each other anymore, but the tension was too much for Wrecker to take.

Hunter had been like his old self since Omega had returned and Wrecker was so relieved. He’d spent months trying to keep hope alive, trying to keep Hunter alive, despite his best efforts. His strong and steady sergeant had become a walking hazard. Erratic, volatile and with no regard for his own safety.

He was surprised to come across Crosshair first. Wrecker knew he had been deliberately avoiding the ship. Maybe there were too many memories tied up in it for him. He was sitting at the Comm station, carefully holding Tech’s goggles. He hastily put them down as Wrecker entered. The glass clinked as they landed face down on the control panel, a sliver of yellow glass falling out and onto the floor.

Crosshair hastily picked them up and put them on the shelf they had found themselves on since they had arrived back into their lives without their owner.

“Don’t worry. Happens all the time,” Wrecker said matter-of-factly. He picked up the glass shard, carefully tucked it back into the frame and replaced them on the shelf again.

Both he and Hunter had held vigil over the goggles as the long search for Omega had continued. They had become a kind of shrine they prayed to in the dark, as though Tech would bestow some wisdom from the grave.

Crosshair looked embarrassed and turned away from his brother. “Was just looking,” he mumbled under his breath.

“We do it all the time,” Wrecker said with a shrug, “keeps him close, you know.”

Crosshair scowled but didn’t reply.

“You’re going to have to talk to him eventually, you know that, right?” Wrecker said, sitting in the seat opposite.

“It’s fine, Wrecker, we sorted it out.”

Wrecker paused and looked down at his hands. Hunter and Crosshair had always been close. They were so similar. The quiet, observant members of the team. Crosshair would occasionally bristle when Hunter didn’t agree with him, but he believed in Hunter, respected him. That’s why Wrecker couldn’t stand this, how far they had come from who they used to be.

“He didn’t let Omega get taken to Tantis,” he said quietly. Crosshair raised an eyebrow but didn’t reply, “your comms were on. We all heard,” He added.

“It doesn’t matter, Wrecker,” Crosshair hissed, clearly not wanting to have this conversation.

“It does,” Wrecker said louder than he intended. He wanted to defend his brother. Defend himself. Crosshair paused and looked at him, clearly not sure what to do next.

“You haven’t known Omega for very long. She’s a great kid…really amazing, sweet, caring, and funny. But she’s also willful and stubborn and has no sense of self preservation,” he chuckled, “Just like Hunter, actually…He told her to find Echo. Told her to run…I…I wasn’t sure he was going to make it, Cross…after we lost her…and Tech.”

There was a sharp intake of breath from Crosshair at the mention of Tech’s name. They both instinctively looked at the goggles and Crosshair’s mood seemed to sour further.

Wrecker blinked at his little brother, suddenly realizing. This wasn’t about Omega. It was about Tech. Crosshair had always had the ability to wound with words alone. This talent had landed him and the whole squad in trouble when they were cadets. Most of their fights with the Regs broke out because of Crosshair’s mouth. Wrecker was surprised that he was holding this back. That even Crosshair knew that to bring this up to Hunter, to start a fight about Tech, would be something they might not come back from. But they still had to have the conversation.

“You really need to talk to him,” Wrecker said again.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Crosshair hissed, swiveling the chair so his back was to his brother, “Tech’s dead.”

The words were sharp, cutting like a virboknife to the face. Wrecker closed his eyes, anger bubbling up inside of him. Anger at himself, at their situation, at Tech, and at his remaining brothers. It wasn’t a conscious decision. His body moved before his brain was fully aware but Wrecker stood up, grabbed Crosshair at his waist and threw him over his shoulder, carrying him with heavy footfalls through the ship to the cockpit where Hunter sat.

“Wrecker, what are you…” Crosshair spluttered as his toothpick fell from his mouth and onto the floor. Wrecker all but threw him in the seat next to Hunter.

Hunter was in the pilot seat, leg propped up on the console, eyes closed. Wrecker knew he wasn’t asleep, that he’d likely heard their hushed conversation with ease.

“What’s your damage, Wrecker?” Crosshair spat, squaring up to his enormous brother.

Wrecker pushed him back into the seat again.

“Sit.” He looked from Crosshair to Hunter and back again, “Don’t come out until you’ve talked about it. I’m sick of this.” He scowled as he walked to the ramp of the Marauder.

“Hey, Kid, wanna get some icecream?” Wrecker called down to Omega.

“Yeah,” she called back sunnily, unaware of the turmoil within the ship.

“Talk,” Wrecker barked again, before heading down the ramp and closing the door. Shutting off the sun and leaving his brothers in darkness.

***

“He’s had one too many blows to the head,” Crosshair said, standing up and brushing himself off.

Hunter remained in the chair; eyes still closed. “He’s right,” Hunter said quietly, “he usually is about this kind of stuff.” He sat up and took in his younger brother.

Crosshair was glaring, but not at him. He couldn’t seem to make eye contact and Hunter wasn’t going to push it. He noticed him favoring his right hand and frowned as he noticed it shake involuntarily. He’d have to ask Omega about that later.

“I already know what you need to say,” Hunter continued, standing up, “just say it and we can try and move on.”

Crosshair looked at him with narrow eyes, turning and walking to the back of the ship. He was pacing like a caged creature. He paused again and turned back. Hunter knew that look on his face. He had seen it thousands of times, from when they were cadets to when they were in the field. Crosshair wasn’t angry, he was wounded, and he was searching for the words that would hurt the most.

Hunter tried his best to prepare himself, knowing it would hurt. Knowing it would cut to his core and knowing that while this may make things easier for Cross, it would likely kill him on the inside. But he waited.

“You killed him,” Crosshair growled, his eyes so narrowed his iris’s looked like black holes.

Hunter felt a weight drop in his chest and stay there. He couldn’t speak, a rock had landed in his throat too. But he nodded and croaked out, “I did,” in a strained voice that didn’t sound like his own.

“I told you to hide,” his brother spat.

“We don’t leave our own behind. We had to try and get you out,” Hunter said.

“And look where that got you. Tech died because of your negligence,”

Hunter felt like he’d been stabbed between the ribs. He couldn’t get enough air in his lungs, but it was nothing that he hadn’t said to himself already. He knew anything Crosshair would and could say would pale in comparison to the destain he already had for himself, every day, every second since his brother fell.

“Don’t you have anything to say?” Crosshair said, taking a step closer.

Hunter did. He could have said any number of things to defend himself. But he didn’t want to. His squad had had a one hundred percent success rate. They didn’t fail in anything until they left Kaminio, until they were on their own, and until Crosshair got left behind.

“I’m sorry. For leaving you on Kamino. You were tying to kill us. But we should have taken you with us. Somehow.”

Crosshair balked. Shaking his head as if to shake the memory out. “This isn’t about that…I…this is about Tech.”

Hunter nodded, “I failed you Crosshair, in the same way that I failed Tech, and the same way that I failed Omega, and Echo, and Wrecker.”

“Wha…just stop…Hunter…” Crosshair’s hand was shaking more violently now. He brought it to his forehead, as though trying to wipe away his thoughts. He was shrinking in on himself, retreating entirely.

Hunter moved forward and went to put his hand on Crosshair’s shoulder, but his brother caught it, his left fist reaching out instead, punching him in his side. Hunter winced as he let his brother land the hit. He staggered back and knelt down; arm wrapped around his side. If he thought he couldn’t breathe before, he really couldn’t now.

“All that time with the Empire and they still couldn’t train you to hit better?” Hunter growled. He didn’t know why he was baiting his brother. Maybe the same reason that he had been throwing himself into more and more dangerous situations of late. Because deep down he felt like he deserved every bruise, stab wound, blaster bolt that came his way. If he hurt enough, maybe that would be enough penance for Tech. Maybe every drop of blood was a sacrifice.

Crosshair launched himself at his brother, knocking him to the floor. Hunter let him land every punch, kick and bite. He let his brother unleash his fury, his hurt, his loss on him in the dim hope that maybe afterwards, he could heal. Hunter gave no thought to his own healing though; he knew that wasn’t possible.

“Fight back,” Crosshair yelled. But Hunter didn’t move to protect himself. He continued to bait his brother.

“Is that all you’ve got, Commander?” Hunter asked.

“Arrr…. I hate you,” his brother screamed, tears welling up in his eyes, “I wish…It should have been… you…I wish you died instead of Tech!” Crosshair froze, as if horrified by his own words. His fist was raised, pulled back to his ear, ready to unleash another blow.

“Me too,” Hunter said looking directly into his little brother’s eyes, voice gravely and horse.

Crosshair collapsed to the floor with a clank, wiping the sweat and tears off his face. Hunter sat up with a wince, wiping the blood that was pouring out his nose. He tasted copper on his tongue and could hear Crosshair’s erratic heartbeat gradually starting to slow.

Hunter looked wearily at Crosshair. He was cradling his head in his hands, elbows resting on his knees, silent tears falling on his cheeks.

“He was the best of us, Crosshair,” Hunter said through sniffs of his likely broken nose, “that’s why we have to be better. For him,” he slammed his palm on the door release, letting the Marauder swim with light once more and slowly walked into the sunlight.

***

The moon shone bright white on the dark Pabu Sea as Crosshair made his winding way down to the beach. He fought against the memories of earlier, attempting to push them out of his head but failing. He shook his head to rid himself of the image of his big brother, covered in blood, wincing but taking every blow he threw at him or Omega and Wrecker’s horrified faces as Hunter left the ship, bloodied and bruised. His stomach dropped in shame, and he tried again to shake the memory out.

The warm Pabu air was usually comforting, peaceful, but now it felt lonely and oppressive. The lights of the island cast shadows as he walked. He hesitated to round the corner, unable to see what was ahead but not wanting to turn back.

When he reached the beach, he struggled to find him, noticing some of his clothes, bandana, blaster and virboknife were scattered in the sand. His heart sank and he started searching for the water in earnest. Wrecker had told him how Hunter had changed, and Crosshair feared it was more than not being cautious, his brother had a death wish.

“Hunter,” he shouted, urgently, panicked.

“Hmm” came a grunt from the water.

Crosshair got closer to the water to find his brother, floating in a star shape, long, dark hair trailing behind him. His eyes were closed, and he barely moved, except when the waves lapped around him, slowly moving him this way and that.

“What are you doing?” Crosshair hissed quietly, trying not to intrude too loudly on what seemed like something important.

“The saltwater helps with the bruises and the pain,” his brother replied.

“I’m…sorry,” Crosshair said in a whisper. His brother didn’t respond, and he wondered if there was any way back from this, from what he’d said, from what he’d done.

“I know.” Hunter said

“I don’t just mean about today…I…”

“I know, Crosshair,” Hunter interrupted.

“Will you let me finish?” Crosshair spat, exacerbated, “I’m sorry…for all of it. I should have come with you on Kamino…I should have been there…help with…I don’t know. I’m just…” he trailed off. How could he apologize for all of it. For all the pain he’d cause. He nearly killed them multiple times. How would he be able to live with himself if he had?

And then it occurred to him, that’s what Hunter was feeling. Hunter thought he’d killed Tech. Crosshair had told him he had. And Hunter couldn’t live with himself.

“You have to stop,” Crosshair said into the darkness. His brother had floated further out, his silhouette dancing on the moon lit water.

“It’s just water, Crosshair. I’ll be out in a minute,”

“Not that. You have to stop blaming yourself. It’s killing you. It will kill you,”

Hunter pulled himself upright in the water, he wet hair plastered flat against his head, the long tendrils covering his skull tattoo. He ran his hand through it, to get it out of his face.

“I’m fine,” he said.

“You’re not. Wrecker told me. You’re the leader.  You don’t get to go to pieces. The squad needs you. I need you; Omega needs you.”

Crosshair noticed something change Hunter’s face at the mention of Omega. He looked past his brother and up at Pabu and the Marauder, the warm light shining through the gunner’s mount as the ship rested by the weeping maya tree. And he suddenly understood. Omega wasn’t just some kid, and she wasn’t just his sister either. Crosshair had been right all along.

“Stop pretending to be something you’re not, Hunter” he had told him on Kamino. But Hunter wasn’t pretending, he was like a father to her in the way that the rest of them just weren’t.

“You need to stay around, for her, if nothing else,” Crosshair continued. “Tech would want you to survive. He’d want all of us to survive.”

Hunter was still looking at him with an expression Crosshair couldn’t quite place. He nodded, an almost imperceptible nod and started to swim towards the shore.

Crosshair noticed a collection of new scars on his brother’s torso that he’d never seen before.

“What’s all that from,” Crosshair asked suspiciously.

He was surprised to hear Hunter laugh, “ran in with a few bounty hunters, the Pikes and a Hutt or two,”

“So, you did have a death wish,” Crosshair said gravely.

“Desperate times…” Hunter started but didn’t finish.

“Are any of those my fault?” crosshair asked

“You wish Crosshair,” Hunter said with a grin, “you still hit like a cadet,” he clapped his brother on the back as they started to make the winding trek back to the Marauder, together.

[clonemedickix]

Ollo!

I have a major arcana ask!!!

For Primer and Volte aaaand Lara 🥰

[THE DEVIL] - Which of the capital vices is your muse tempted by? (Pride, Greed, Wrath, Envy, Lust, Gluttony, Sloth)

and/or

[THE MOON] - If they had to choose one trait to describe themselves, what would it be? Is it a genuine answer, or the illusion/persona they put on for others?

😘💜💜💜

Primer

Devil - I would say Primer is tempted by Envy and Lust. He loves Lara, though she belongs to Rex. His whole life and goal is to serve her, protect her and be her right hand man, but he can’t help the feelings he develops for her over time.

The Moon - Dedicated. Oh it’s genuine.

Volte

Devil - in as much as he’s tempted by anything, I’d say Greed. He wants to know more, wants to find THE answer to save people. Always learning, always wanting to excel, to go further.

The Moon - Resilient. It’s an illusion. He wants everybody to think he’s okay, that he is getting by, even when brothers die and he can’t help them. In reality, he barely keeps his head and heart above water. He struggled with every death, every permanent injury he couldn’t prevent or heal.

Lara

Devil - Lara is tempted by multiple vices - Pride, Greed, Wrath, Envy, Lust. She usually keeps the Pride in line, but sometimes it can creep out in ways that make her choose destructive paths, thinking she’s smarter or better than she really is. Greed, in that she wants a happy life, when it was not really something promised to her in the first place. Envy for the same reason. Wrath, because she is capable of great duality - very good, and yet, very bad when angered. Her Wrath can destroy worlds, life, and more pieces of her soul. Lust, because she loves more than one man, and struggles to live in a human-centric, morally acceptable lifestyle.

The Moon - Complicated. It’s not a persona, she really is complicated, though she tries her best to do the right thing for all peoples. She tries to slide through time without notice, tries to make no waves while doing her job. But at the same time, she pushes people away, isolates herself and has made herself a truly complex, emotionally puzzling character.

@dystopicjumpsuit @sunshinesdaydream @starrylothcat @anxiouspineapple99 @sev-on-kamino @the-bad-batch-baroness @cloneloverrrrr @mandos-mind-trick @dukeoftheblackstar @wolffegirlsunite @isthereanechoinhere96 @moonlightwarriorqueen @wizardofrozz @multi-fan-dom-madness @starqueensthings @dickarchivist @villanousace @mythical-illustrator @523rdrebel @sinfulsalutations @vimse @a-single-tulip

[legacygirlingreen]

"Princess" || Commander Wolffe x OFC Perdita || Clone x Clone OC Week 2025

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x OFC Perdita Halle (Bio HERE)

Word Count: 6.8k+

Rating: SFW but Teen+

Warnings: heavy flirtation, mentions of order 66, grief

Author's Note: Day 3 of @clonexocweek! Shifting gears to one of my other OC's Perdita. You can find her Bio linked ahead! This is also the next installment of her story with Commander Wolffe! So thankful to this writing challenge to really push me to keep my stories going! As always, this story exists within @leenathegreengirl 's AU and she is responsible for helping bring Perdita to life!

Previous Work || Masterlist

Wolffe stormed through the swamp, fury in every step. How he had ended up here was something he still couldn't fully accept as his own doing. The decision to fire on his own troopers the moment he set foot on the landing platform with the Jedi in custody had set everything in motion—forcing them both into a frantic scramble for a shuttle to escape. While their initial flight had been successful, it became clear that no matter how many ships they commandeered, they were always being tracked. The Empire was waiting for them the moment they made it off-world. And so, their latest crash landing on Nal Hutta, the ship's descent still echoing in his mind…

✩₊˚.⋆☾𓃦☽⋆⁺₊✧

“I’d brace yourself for a rough landing, Princess,” he muttered grumpily, his eyes scanning the damaged shuttle’s computer system. The trajectory was set, but that didn’t ease the gnawing sense of dread. The hyperspace jump hadn’t been the problem—no, it was the damage they’d sustained during the last firefight. When they entered the atmosphere, the shuttle had been torn apart even more, each burst of fire and each jolting impact chipping away at what was left of the ship. 

“I told you to stop calling me that,” she snapped back, her voice edged with irritation.

He wasn’t sure why the nickname had stuck. Maybe it was the undeniable truth that, despite everything, she did look every bit like royalty—her elegance even in chaos a sharp contrast to the grim reality of their situation. Or maybe it was just his way of dealing with everything—his passive-aggressive shield, the thin veil of sarcasm and annoyance that kept the world at bay. He wasn’t sure, but he knew one thing: the name fit her, and it kept slipping off his tongue without a hint of regret.

The shuttle’s hull groaned in protest as it plunged further into the atmosphere, metal screeching under the strain. Wolffe’s fingers flew over the controls, trying to stabilize the craft, but it was like trying to tame a wild animal. Sparks flew from the dashboard, and alarms screamed in their ears as the ship's systems malfunctioned one by one.

“We’re not gonna make it,” he muttered under his breath, more to himself than to her. His hands tightened on the controls, his mind racing with calculations, but there was no escaping the inevitable.

Perdita’s voice cut through the chaos. “Wolffe, do something!”

He barely heard her over the sound of the wind whipping through the shuttle’s breaches, but he could feel her eyes on him. He knew she was scared. Hell, he was scared. His mind raced, thinking of a hundred ways to try and save them, but his heart kept coming back to one thing: her.

She was a fighter, he’d seen that time and again, but there was something about the way she sat there—straight-backed, almost too calm for someone about to crash into a swamp—something that gnawed at him. It wasn’t the same composure he saw in seasoned soldiers. It was something more fragile, hidden behind those defiant eyes of hers.

His breath hitched as he looked over at her, the storm of emotions he’d kept locked up inside surging to the surface. “Don’t worry, I’m not letting you die,” he growled, more to himself than her, his voice rough with the weight of the words. There was no time to explain, no time to reconcile his feelings, but that fact rang clear in his mind.

She raised an eyebrow at him, clearly about to retort, but the shuttle bucked violently, throwing both of them against their seats. The world outside spun, a blur of treetops and sky, before the ground suddenly rose up to meet them with a bone-rattling jolt.

The crash itself felt like an eternity—a gut-wrenching mix of twisting metal and bone-shaking impacts. For a moment, Wolffe was sure they were done for. His grip on the controls tightened as the shuttle careened towards the swamp, its fuselage skidding through the muck before coming to an abrupt, jarring halt. The sound of groaning metal filled the air, followed by an eerie silence.

He was breathing hard, disoriented, and his ears rang. For a moment, he just sat there, fighting to clear the fog in his mind. Then, he turned to her. Perdita was still in her seat, eyes wide but alert, a few cuts and bruises on her face from the impact and her hitting the glass viewport, but—thank the stars—still breathing.

“Princess,” he breathed, his tone softer now, betraying the storm of emotions he’d tried to mask. “You okay?”

She didn’t respond immediately, her hand pressed against the side of her head as she checked herself for injuries. It was then that Wolffe realized how deeply he’d been holding his breath. The relief flooding through him was overwhelming, and for a brief, fleeting moment, he let himself be vulnerable, his concern for her slipping through the cracks of his tough exterior.

Perdita finally looked over at him, her lips curling into a small smirk, despite the blood trickling from a gash on her temple. “I told you to stop calling me that.”

Wolffe’s lips twitched, but his gaze softened. "Maybe later," he muttered, then quickly turned his attention to the wreckage around them. "We need to get out of here. Now."

✩₊˚.⋆☾𓃦☽⋆⁺₊✧

That was how he had ended up slogging through waist-deep, murky water, making his way toward what he could only loosely call civilization. If you could even label it that in Hutt-controlled territory. Still, it was precisely the area's reputation for being lawless and corrupt that had sparked the decision to come here in the first place. Nal Hutta, despite the Empire’s claims of dominance, remained firmly beyond their grasp. But in the chaos and uncertainty of this place, there was opportunity—a chance for both of them to regroup, to blend in with the shadows and find something they desperately needed: new clothes, supplies, and a ship the Empire wasn’t tracking.

The only problem now, however, was the eerie sound of water sloshing quietly beneath their boots, a constant reminder of how far from safety they truly were. There was no conversation, no words exchanged between them as they waded through the murky waters. Silence had become their constant companion. It wasn’t the first time it had happened, either. Their interactions had devolved into either tense, frustrated silence or harsh words. Gone were the days of lighthearted banter that had once filled their conversations during the war.

It hadn't taken long for Wolffe to realize that the fall of the Jedi Order had profoundly changed Perdita. The peaceful presence she had once projected, that calming aura she used to exude, had been dulled. In its place, there was a rawness to her emotions—a sharpness in her gaze and a palpable edge to her every move. Wolffe had seen glimpses of this before, flashes of intense emotion that cut through her usually serene exterior, but now, those moments were no longer rare. They were becoming the norm. And it was in this silence, as the water lapped at their feet, that he found himself unsure of where they stood now—or where they were heading.

He’d read her file shortly after the fall of the Jedi Order, desperate to find any shred of information that might explain which of the Jedi he had known were still alive—and, more hauntingly, which ones had perished, and how. Perdita’s name had appeared on the list of the missing, along with that of her padawan. At the time, that brief mention had sparked a small flicker of hope in him, something to hold onto as he navigated the confusion and loss of those early days. His ears had remained attuned, waiting for any news, any whisper that might tell him more.

But, despite all the time that had passed since their reunion, he still hadn’t found the courage to ask her about the whereabouts of her padawan. The silence surrounding that question had remained a heavy weight between them, one Wolffe wasn’t willing to lift. He could feel it in the air between them—an unspoken truth that the padawan had likely met the same grim fate as so many others. The odds were too high, the likelihood of survival too slim. He had seen too much in the aftermath of Order 66 to believe otherwise. He had learned, painfully, that the Empire’s reach was long and merciless.

"He’s fine—" Perdita's voice cut through the silence, her words tight with tension as they waded through the water. The sentence hung in the air, heavy with the unsaid. Wolffe hated it when she did that. He hated how she seemed to know exactly what he was thinking, even without a single word exchanged between them. It wasn't that he could fault her for it; after all, she had never once intruded on his thoughts since they had found each other again. Perdita respected his boundaries, never reaching into his mind the way others might have. But she couldn’t help when his emotions grew too loud, too raw, for her to ignore.

She always seemed to sense it—when his heart clenched, when his thoughts wandered into the darker corners of his past. She could feel the weight of his unresolved questions, his guilt, his fears. But there was something else, too—something deeper in her tone that he couldn’t quite place. It was as if, in that one brief sentence, she was trying to convince herself as much as she was trying to convince him.

Wolffe didn’t respond immediately, but the silence that followed was thick with the tension of unspoken truths. Perdita’s assurances weren’t enough to silence the nagging doubt in his mind, but he knew better than to press her on it. He assumed she wasn’t ready to share, and that was something he could respect, even if it ate away at him.

"You are free to ask what happened if you like," Perdita spoke softly, her voice devoid of the sharp edge that had marked most of their exchanges since they’d been reunited. Gone was the venom, the anger that had become familiar whenever she addressed him. Instead, there was a quiet resignation in her tone, something fragile that caught Wolffe off guard. She seemed different now—less guarded, but in a way that spoke of deep, hidden sorrow. That sadness, creeping into her voice, halted his movements. He paused mid-step, his boots sinking slightly deeper into the murky water as he turned to face her fully.

The air between them felt thick with something unspoken, an invitation to tread where they had never dared before. Her eyes were distant, almost lost in a memory, as though she had seen something he couldn’t, something far beyond the shadows of Nal Hutta. He searched her face for some sign of her usual composure, but it was no longer there. The flicker of vulnerability in her eyes made his heart tighten in a way he hadn’t expected. He swallowed, unsure of what to say.

"It is not my business—" he began, but she interrupted him, her voice firmer now, tinged with something that bordered on resolve.

"Nonsense," she said sharply, though the bite in her words was softened by the underlying emotion. "You threw away so much to help me. You are at the very least owed an explanation if you desire it."

Her words lingered between them, carrying the weight of a history neither of them had fully confronted. Wolffe felt a strange stirring in his chest. Perdita had always been one to keep her secrets, and to offer even a hint of explanation was something rare, something she clearly didn’t give lightly. He could see the effort it took for her to even offer this. She wasn’t asking for his pity, but perhaps, for understanding—a moment of honesty in the aftermath of all they had lost.

He took a step closer, his voice low, steady, as though each word carried weight he didn’t want to acknowledge. "I didn’t do it for an explanation, Princess. I did it because I know you are a good person, someone who didn’t deserve to suffer. I didn’t want to be complicit in causing you pain," he admitted, the truth falling from his lips without hesitation.

There was a long pause between them, the weight of his words sinking into the murky water surrounding them. For a moment, Wolffe wondered if she would respond with bitterness or if she would retreat into the walls she’d built so carefully around herself. But instead, she simply nodded, as though the admission was both expected and understood. It was a moment of quiet connection between them, a rare honesty amidst all the lies and deceit they had both endured.

Perdita inhaled deeply, her shoulders tightening, as if bracing herself for the weight of the memories she was about to relive. She spoke softly, almost to herself. "We were on an assignment off-world. Onderon. We were assisting Gerrera’s forces—fighting the Separatists trying to reclaim the system.” Her eyes unfocused, drifting back to the distant horizon as if the memory was replaying in her mind. "When it happened... when everything fell apart, his men helped Zatt and I escape."

Wolffe’s chest tightened at the mention of Zatt. The padawan. His thoughts flickered briefly to the child, imagining the fear in his eyes as his world crumbled. He said nothing, allowing Perdita to continue, knowing she needed to speak.

"Kenobi sent out a message from the temple, warning survivors not to return, so we did that—we ran. Hiding where we could, wherever we thought we were safe. But as the Empire began taking over system after system, it became harder for someone like me to stay hidden, especially with a child. A child who doesn’t look anything like me." She shook her head, the sorrow clear in her voice. "It draws attention, and we couldn’t keep pretending that he was my flesh and blood. The Empire’s reach was too long, and the risks... they became too high."

Her voice faltered for a moment, a brief crack in her otherwise composed demeanor. Wolffe’s heart ached at the thought of how much she had carried alone during that time. She had been a beacon of strength in the war, but even the strongest of people break when they carry too much.

"So, I got him back to his people." Perdita’s voice hardened slightly as she continued, as if her decision was one she had replayed in her mind a thousand times. "They promised me that they would protect him. And... I trust that he is alright. I trust in the Force. He’s—" She paused, her words catching in her throat for a moment, as though the weight of them was almost too much to bear. "He’s a good kid. He deserves the chance to be a kid."

Wolffe felt a lump form in his throat as he listened to her words. The image of a child, a bright and hopeful young soul, caught in the crossfire of a war he couldn’t fully understand, hit him harder than he expected. Perdita had risked everything to ensure the boy’s safety, even if it meant letting go of him. He could see the love and the pain in her eyes, the impossible decision she had made out of love for a child who wasn’t hers by blood, but had become her responsibility all the same.

"You did what you had to do," Wolffe said quietly, stepping closer still. "You did what was right."

Perdita looked at him then, her eyes searching his, almost as if looking for confirmation that she wasn’t alone in her choices. "I hope I did," she murmured, more to herself than to him, her voice breaking slightly. "I hope he’s safe. That he’s somewhere far from this war... that he can live a life outside of the Empire's reach."

The silence that followed was filled with the weight of everything they had both lost, everything they had both endured. And yet, despite the darkness surrounding them, Wolffe could feel a quiet strength growing between them. Perdita’s pain was raw, but she wasn’t letting it consume her. She had made sacrifices, had fought for a future that didn’t belong just to her, but to someone else—a child who deserved a chance to grow up, untouched by the horrors of the galaxy.

"You’ll find him again," Wolffe said, his voice firm with the certainty of his words. Perdita’s gaze softened slightly, the tiniest hint of hope flickering in her eyes. "I hope you’re right, Wolffe," she replied quietly. "I really do."

Wolffe watched as a small tear escaped the corner of her eye, a fragile drop of emotion she couldn’t quite hold back. For a moment, it hung there, suspended in time, before she quickly brushed it away, as though to erase the vulnerability that had slipped through her defenses. "We should keep moving," she said, her voice steady, but there was a faint tremor beneath the surface—one that Wolffe could feel, even if she tried to hide it.

"Hey—" Wolffe’s voice was hesitant, laced with concern. He took a step closer, unsure if she would push him away.

"Nightfall is approaching," she replied quickly, her tone resolute, though the effort to mask her emotions was clear. Wolffe knew the routine, the constant push forward, the need to keep moving. It had been their mantra ever since they’d been thrust into this war-torn galaxy together, but something about the cold finality in her voice made him hesitate.

He couldn’t just leave her like this—not when he saw the raw pain etched so deeply into her face.

Without thinking, he placed a hand gently on her shoulder, his grip light but firm. He turned her body slowly to face him, not allowing her to keep walking. Her eyes met his, wide with surprise, and in that brief moment, Wolffe saw a fresh wave of tears gathering at the corner of her eyes—tears that threatened to spill over, despite her best efforts to hold them in.

"Perdita," he whispered her name, his voice softer than he intended, but full of meaning. It was the first time he’d said her name, the first time since their reunion, and the sound of it seemed to cut through the thick, heavy air between them.

She sucked in a sharp breath at the sound of it, as if hearing it aloud was a jolt to her system. Wolffe noticed the subtle shift in her expression—the way her eyes softened, the way her breath hitched, as though his voice had pierced a wall she had so carefully constructed around herself.

For a brief moment, she looked like the woman he had once known, back when they were fighting side by side in the war. But then, the mask cracked just enough for him to see the depth of the grief she had buried inside. "I... I don’t remember you ever saying my name," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. It was almost as though saying it aloud brought the reality of everything they’d been through into sharper focus, forcing her to confront the distance that had grown between them.

Wolffe’s heart tightened at her words. He hadn’t meant to bring back those old wounds, but somehow, he had. He realized then that, for all the battles they had fought together, all the missions they had survived, they had never truly stopped long enough to talk, to heal. Back then, it had always been "General" or "General Halle" in the field. A title, a role. There had been no room for anything else. Since their reunion, he’d stuck to calling her by the nickname she had loathed, a habit formed from years of familiarity, but it had never been her. He had never truly seen her until now, in this fragile moment of shared silence.

“Sorry, Jedi aren’t supposed to be weak,” she muttered, her voice laced with self-derision. She reached up to brush the tears from her face, as though to erase the vulnerability she had just allowed herself to show. But before her hand could make contact, Wolffe stopped her, gently intercepting her movement.

“Perdita,” he spoke her name softly, his voice quiet but steady, “you aren’t weak.”

His hand found hers, but instead of simply holding it, he gently guided it away from her face. His thumb traced the delicate line of her cheek, his touch light, almost reverent, as though he was afraid of breaking something even more fragile than the tears she had shed. He had never been one to shy away from battle, from hard decisions, but this felt different. In that simple act, in that moment, he was offering something she had probably not had in far too long: tenderness.

The gesture wasn’t necessary, not in any practical sense. He knew she could wipe the tears away herself. But there was something inside him, something deep and unspoken, that made him want to help ease the burden she carried. And so, with each gentle sweep of his thumb, he felt a warmth spread inside him—an unexpected pride. This was not just about shielding her from the storm outside. It was about giving her the chance to fight the battles within herself, the ones she had been fighting alone for so long.

She had always been alone in this—carrying the weight of the galaxy on her shoulders, trying to make sense of everything that had been ripped away. But for the first time in what felt like forever, she didn’t have to do it alone. He was here, and he wanted to be here.

Her breath caught in her throat as he traced the scar that ran along her cheek. It was an old one, from long ago when she was a padawan, yet it was still part of her. It was a reminder of what she had survived. And as his fingers lingered there, a quiet admission slipped from his lips, barely above a whisper, but filled with meaning. “And you always were better than most of them in that Temple,” he said quietly, the words rolling out with the ease of someone who had seen the truth from the start, but had never said it aloud. “You were always different. You are different.”

The words hung between them, heavy with sincerity, and for a brief moment, it seemed as though time stood still. Perdita blinked, taken aback, her chest tightening as his words settled in. No one had ever said that to her—not like this, not with this kind of raw honesty. There was no judgment, no expectation. Only the simple truth, spoken with care.

She didn’t know how to respond. There had been so many voices over the years, so many opinions of who she was, what she should have been, who she had failed to become. But Wolffe wasn’t like the others. His words weren’t meant to fix her. They weren’t some hollow comfort, a fleeting reassurance to make her feel better. They were a quiet acknowledgment of everything she had been through, everything she still carried. It wasn’t just about the battles she’d fought or the scars she wore, inside and out. It was about who she was—the woman standing before him, still fighting, still surviving, despite it all. And for the first time in a long time, she felt as though she didn’t have to hide from it. 

Wolffe, who had seen her at her best and her worst, who had fought alongside her before and now when the galaxy was falling apart,  stood before her not as a soldier, not as a comrade, but as someone who saw her. Really saw her.

Her breath shuddered, but this time, the tears that welled up were different. They were not born of sorrow or loss, but of something more profound—a release. A moment of pure honesty, of being seen, of being understood.

For a long moment, she couldn’t speak, the words stuck in her throat, but she didn’t need to. Instead, she simply met his gaze, her hand reaching up to rest on his wrist, the quiet connection between them saying everything that needed to be said.

Wolffe, in turn, held her gaze with a quiet determination. He wasn’t going to push her. He wasn’t going to demand anything from her. He simply stayed there, his presence solid and unwavering, offering her the one thing she had always needed more than anything else: understanding.

“Thank you, Wolffe,” she whispered, her voice low and filled with gratitude. It wasn’t just for saving her, not just for the battles he had fought for her, but for something deeper—something she hadn’t realized she needed until now. Thankful for the way he had listened, how he had seen her when no one else had, and for the care he was offering so freely, without asking for anything in return.

How the Jedi had seen attachments like this as a danger showed Perdita just how misguided the order was. 

For a moment, everything else faded away. There was no war, no Empire hunting them down, no scarred past between them. It was just the two of them, standing in this fragile space where words didn’t need to be spoken aloud to be understood.

A smirk tugged at the corner of Wolffe’s lips—one she hadn’t seen in what felt like ages, not since that last day at the Jedi Temple, before everything fell apart. A quiet, familiar expression, filled with that old, comforting confidence. It was a smirk that reminded her of the man she once fought alongside, and yet, there was something different about it now—something softer, something more.

Without warning, Wolffe leaned in, and the smirk, like a subtle, unspoken promise, grazed her skin as he pressed the lightest of kisses to her temple. It was brief, but it lingered in a way that left her breathless, like a gentle caress against both her skin and a part of her soul she’d not quite acknowledged before. She could feel the warmth of his lips, the softness, the tenderness in the gesture—a contrast to the rugged soldier she had always known him to be.

Her heart skipped a beat, and for the briefest of moments, it felt as though the world had slowed down, leaving only the quiet intimacy of the moment between them. She didn’t pull away, didn’t move, instead she closed her eyes, savoring the feeling of him there, so close, yet so carefully distant.

When he pulled back, his face softened, but the smirk was still there, like a secret they shared.

“Anytime, Princess,” he said, his voice low, but his tone teasing—though there was something more in it now. Something that hadn’t been there before. He called her “Princess” but now instead of in the heat of an argument, the word now carried a weight she hadn’t expected. It wasn’t a jest anymore. 

Her breath caught for a moment, and she found herself searching his eyes, as if trying to make sense of the moment, of the unexpected depth in his words, his touch. There was no pretense between them now—no shields, no walls. Just the raw honesty that had grown between them in the shared emotions of their joint situation.

She could see it now. The way he looked at her was different. Not with the same respect he had shown in the heat of battle, but with something warmer, softer—something that made her heart race a little faster. It wasn’t just the soldier standing before her anymore. It was Wolffe—the man who had always respected her and was grateful for saving his life. Now, as if trying to prove he was worthy of her by tossing away all he’d known to keep her safe.

“Wolffe…” Her voice trailed off, and she didn’t quite know what to say. There was too much between them now, too many emotions swirling in the space they shared, to fit into just a few words. She didn’t need to say it all out loud. He already knew.

His hand, still resting lightly on her shoulder, tightened ever so slightly, not possessive, but protective—gentle, yet firm. Her eyes, searching his face, spoke volumes—questions, uncertainties, and perhaps even a hint of something she wasn’t yet ready to name. He saw it all, the raw vulnerability behind her gaze, and yet, there was no fear in it. Just honesty. 

Wolffe knew she wasn’t the kind of woman to let herself need anyone, especially not someone like him. He had seen the way she fought alone, the way she carried the weight of the galaxy on her shoulders with the stoic grace of a Jedi. But now, in this quiet space between them, he could sense the shift. She didn’t need to say everything. He already knew.

Gently, as though allowing her the space to pull away if she needed, he moved his hand to tenderly cup her cheek, his thumb brushing against the smoothness of her skin. He wasn’t trying to push, only to offer her the quiet reassurance that he was there, unwavering. His fingers lingered at the side of her head, where the soft, shorn hair met her scalp. He hadn’t yet asked whether that style had been a choice, or a necessity born of their circumstances. They hadn’t been running long, but already, he’d grown unkempt—his face dotted with the beginnings of a beard, his hair far past regulation. Yet, there was something captivating about the contrast between her long hair and the one side she’d kept so short. It highlighted the delicate curve of her neck, leading down to her nape. As his fingertips brushed over it, he found himself mesmerized by the beauty in the unexpected—a striking blend of sharpness and softness that left him almost breathless. 

Her breath caught, just a whisper of a sound, as his touch lingered against her skin. Her eyes fluttered closed for a brief moment, as though afraid that if she opened them, the softness of the sensation would slip away, leaving nothing but the cold reality of their world.

"I like this," he confessed, his voice low, tinged with a quiet warmth. His fingers brushed over the short hair again, the gesture casual, yet it carried a weight he hadn’t expected.

Wolffe couldn’t quite understand it—the way his stomach fluttered at something so simple, so seemingly trivial. To touch her hair, to feel the warmth of her skin beneath his fingertips—it was enough to make his heart race, to stir a feeling deep inside him that he couldn't place. It was a strange blend of yearning, of wanting more, and yet, at the same time, a quiet anticipation that left him breathless, as though this moment was something more than he could put into words.

Perdita let out a soft scoff, the sound tinged with an edge of frustration. "I didn’t really have much choice in the matter," she said, her voice quiet but resolute. The puzzled furrow of his brows seemed to silently demand more, urging her to explain. With a reluctant sigh, she did. "Hair got caught trying to escape not too long ago. It was easier to just cut myself free and deal with the consequences later," she confessed, the words coming out heavier than she intended. There was a fleeting vulnerability in her tone, one she quickly buried beneath the weight of practicality.

Inside, she knew it sounded ridiculous. The Jedi had always taught her that vanity was a frivolous concern, something beneath the greater mission. It was one of the reasons she had always kept herself veiled. She had listened to the council’s recommendation to cover herself in fear of leading her peers to stumble with their own vows, as many women at the temple did.

But standing here now, with Wolffe's gaze lingering on her, she felt a sudden self-consciousness she hadn’t expected. There was something raw in the way his eyes held her—something that seemed almost hungry. And in that moment, she couldn’t help but feel a pang of uncertainty about the simplest of things: the unexpected and frankly unwanted cut made her worry about his opinion. It seemed so trivial, yet she couldn’t help but wonder how he would view it. 

Wolffe’s hand remained at her cheek, his thumb brushing over her skin with a slow, deliberate rhythm. He watched her carefully, the softness in her eyes, the faint tension in her posture as she spoke. There was something about the way she seemed so conflicted over something as trivial as an unwanted haircut that made him smile. But it wasn’t just any smile—it was a smile filled with admiration, warmth, and, surprisingly, a bit of boldness.

He took a deep breath, his gaze locking onto hers with a playful intensity, as though testing the waters before plunging in. "I’m about to say something that would’ve definitely landed me in hot water when you were my superior..." His voice was low, steady, and there was a subtle weight to his words that hinted at something more. "But the truth is, you’re an incredibly attractive woman. I always noticed things—like how the faint shape of your body would show through those robes, or how your eyes, no matter how stoic, could still be so captivating."

He paused, meeting her gaze. There was no sense in pretending anymore. They had too little to lose, and he knew she'd likely sensed his thoughts already. This confession, he decided, needed to come from his lips, not his mind.

He leaned in slightly, the intensity of the moment drawing them even closer. “But right now? In this filthy swamp, covered in blood, sweat, and tears?” He let out a quiet chuckle, one that mixed affection with something deeper, more genuine. "Even with your... unique hairstyle," he teased with a warm smile, "you’re damn enticing, if you ask me."

The words hung in the air between them, charged with honesty and something far more intimate than he'd expected to reveal.

She blinked at him, the comment catching her off guard, and for a second, Wolffe thought she might blush. Instead, she quirked an eyebrow at him, her lips pulling into a teasing smirk.

“Well, aren’t you the smooth talker,” she replied with a sarcastic, yet amused tone, trying to cover the way her heart fluttered at his words. She tilted her head, studying him for a moment before responding with a slight chuckle of her own. “If I’m being honest, I’ve kind of gotten used to the scruffy look,” she teased, her eyes lighting up with playful mischief. “I think it suits you. We’ve both seen better days, after all. It kind of fits this whole... runaway, no-one’s-gonna-catch-us vibe we’ve got going on.”

Wolffe let out a low laugh at that, the sound rich and genuine, and his thumb brushed across her cheek one more time before he dropped his hand. “Scruffy, huh?” he mused, his lips curving into a sly grin. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Perdita shrugged, her expression shifting into something softer, more genuine beneath the teasing facade. “I’m just saying,” she added, her voice quieter now, “there’s something... enticing about someone who’s lost the need to keep up appearances.” She repeated his choice of words back to him.

He studied her for a moment, taking in the lightness in her words and the warmth in her eyes. He could see the change in her—the way she let down the walls just a little bit more, the way she let herself be a little more real with him.

“You’d better get used to the scruff. No guarantees we’ll be able to find razors anytime soon, so it’s going to be this for the foreseeable future,” he warned, referring to his own appearance. 

Perdita’s lips curved into a playful smile, her eyes glinting with amusement as she regarded him. “Oh, trust me, I think I can handle it. It's not like I’m exactly looking pristine myself,” she teased, gesturing toward her own disheveled state. “Besides, if I’m going to keep surviving this runaway life, I’ll have to learn to appreciate the little things. Like scruffy Wolffe,” she added with a wink, the teasing tone in her voice softer now, the playful banter offering a shield, but beneath it was something more sincere.

Wolffe chuckled, the sound warm and genuine, and his gaze lingered on her a little longer than before, not just taking in her teasing words but the subtle way her posture had shifted, the quiet vulnerability that had seeped into her demeanor. She leaned into his hold, and at some point he hadn’t noticed that she’d settled her hands on his waist. There was something refreshing about the way they could still find humor in all of this, despite the chaos surrounding them.

“I’m not exactly worried about my looks right now,” he admitted, his voice quieting just a touch, something more serious weaving through. “But if you think I look good this way, then maybe I should hold onto it a little longer.” He raised an eyebrow, the playfulness still there, but now it was paired with a flicker of something deeper, something that hadn’t been there before.

Perdita tilted her head, studying him closely. Her expression softened, and the teasing edge from earlier seemed to fade, replaced by something more sincere. “I’ll admit... there’s something more real about it. It's like the soldier is finally disappearing, and what's left is just... Well, Wolffe.”

“Well, good to know Princess…” he said. Perdita raised an eyebrow, her expression a mixture of amusement and exasperation. “Princess again?” she asked, a small smirk tugging at her lips. “You really can’t let that go, can you?”

Wolffe grinned, his eyes glinting with mischievous humor. “What can I say? It suits you. You’ve got that royal vibe, even when you’re covered in dirt and mud.”

She rolled her eyes, but the corner of her mouth twitched upward. “Royal vibe? Please, I’m far from royalty.” She gave him a nudge with her shoulder, her voice light but laced with curiosity. “Why do you keep calling me that?”

He let out a chuckle, the sound warm and genuine. “I don’t know... I guess it’s just suited to you at the moment. If I didn’t know who you were, I’d assume someone as pretty as you would be royalty.”

Perdita blinked, her expression softening. “Well, I don’t know if that’s true,” 

Wolffe’s grin deepened. “Don’t sell yourself short, Princess. You’ve got a lot more going on than you give yourself credit for.”

She shook her head with a smile, the playfulness in her eyes still dancing. “Alright, alright. But I’m not letting you off the hook for that nickname anytime soon.”

He shrugged with an exaggerated nonchalance, though there was a glint of warmth in his eyes. “Sorry but you’ll just have to deal with it.”

Perdita’s gaze softened, and for a moment, the teasing faded, leaving something more honest, more vulnerable behind. “You know,” she said quietly, “even though it’s been... insane, I don’t mind these moments. The ones where we can laugh, forget the world for a little while. And hey, we’re not screaming at each other for once.”

Wolffe met her gaze, his smile slipping into something more genuine, a flicker of warmth in his eyes. “I get what you mean,” he said softly. “But just so you know, I’m still going to argue with you. Count on it.”

Perdita raised an eyebrow, a smile playing at her lips. “Oh yeah? You’re not done with that?”

“Of course not. You’re easily the most vexing woman I’ve ever met,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Vexing?” she repeated, a mischievous glint in her eyes before she shoved him playfully. The sudden motion caught him off guard, and he stumbled backward, sinking deeper into the murky water than he’d planned.

“Oh, you are not getting away with that one, Princess.” Wolffe scoffed, reaching for her, but his hand froze mid-air, caught in some unseen force. He blinked, startled, as Perdita flashed a sly grin and wiggled her brows at him.

“Sorry, what was that?” she teased, her voice light as she turned to walk away. “Can’t hear you over being this vexing.”

Wolffe stood there for a moment, dumbfounded, before finally feeling the hold around his hand loosen. As she started walking, he could still feel the playful tug of her teasing energy. She glanced back over her shoulder, tossing him a look that spoke volumes—like maybe, just maybe, things could be okay if they kept going down this path.

With a quiet chuckle, he followed her, the promise of more moments like this could make his decision worthwhile. It wouldn’t be easy. They’d still clash. Danger was always there, lurking in the background. But if life on the run could be this... chaotic, but somehow enjoyable, he was more than willing to take on a little more conflict.

Tag List: @leenathegreengirl @asgre @badbatch-bitch @cw80831 @heidnspeak

[alegendoftomorrow]

I’m done. Deceased. Dead. Why is he so cute and perfect?! The way I would immediately feel better wrapped in this man’s arms. I love how affectionate you’ve made him here. Really channeling the energy we see of him into something so sweet and domestic. It’s so precious to see him—or any of the other clones really—in a more calm setting. I just…. Ugh….you’re writing is so beautiful and I can’t stop reading it. Your love for Hardcase is so evident in the way you write him with such dimension and depth. I am falling in love with him more and more just from how much you love him. I hope you never stop writing and sharing!

Hi friend! I have a song for the song prompt 😊

I Could Get Used To This by The Veronicas

https://youtu.be/KB6i0BHFaDY

Thanks for the ask! And honestly a new song that I LOVED. I seriously added it to like three playlists outside of the one I am making for Song Requests.

Time for me to be insufferable because this SCREAMED Hardcase to me. Finally, Hardcase my beloved! Rex has dominated the RTL that I'm working on and none of the prompts until this one has felt "him". But this one...

Comfort for both reader and 'Case because he deserves it. Also Canon is all lies. Hardcase is perfectly safe.

Song: I Could Get Used To This by The Veronicas Pairing: Hardcase (My Beloved) x Reader (Uterus owning, but other than that GN!) Content Warning: Period Cramps mention Word Count: 467

Soft kisses, soft nuzzles to your neck, the smell of fresh caf brewing, cinnamon, soap, and a soft but excited voice, “Babe?”

Despite the pain in your abdomen and your general feeling of grossness you couldn't help but blink awake with a small smile. Hardcase was always excited for the day, no matter what the plan or no plan there was.

As soon as he sees your eyes open he has the brightest smile for you as he says, “Good Morning, Babe, Love you,” and then he kisses you. Because morning breath be damned, he's getting his kisses first thing.

Hardcase pulls back, smiling at you, nose to nose with you. “Love you too, Babe,” you say, sleepily.

It's then he notices something off.

“Babe? What's wrong?” he asks, face crinkled in concern, hand softly cradling your cheek.

Leaning into his touch you sigh, “Cramps,”

He frowns, concerned, and puts gentle pressure on your lower abdomen with his hand. He leans back in and kisses the corner of your lips.

Then with a smile he says, “Holofilm day!” pulling a giggle from you.

Hardcase gets up with a kiss to your cheek, “Comfy clothes! I'll get everything ready!”

By the time you put your favorite comfy clothes on, grabbing your favorite plushie he had given you, and make your way to the living room where he's practically made a nest for the two of you on the couch. Cups of hot caf and cinnamon rolls you had made together the night before on a side table, and your favorite comfort film ready to go.

Hardcase strides over to you, scoops you up and sits on the couch with you in his lap, tucking a heating pad against your stomach.

You spend the day, curled up against his bare chest. Only moving for bathroom breaks and for him to go get snacks. Healthy and unhealthy, because he feels that you (and him for that matter) deserve your favorite ice creams on this kind of occasion and has ordered them for a grocery delivery.

When your movie ends you ask for his favorite comfort film, and he disagrees. “Today is for making you feel better,” he says.

“But yours is familiar and makes me feel better because it's you,” you insist, trying to get your way you make tooka eyes at him and nuzzle against his chest. He finally gives in with a laugh.

You watch films interspersed with some playing of video games, snuggling and talking, the whole time peppering him with the little kisses he loves so much.

When it gets late, and you eventually fall asleep in his arms, he carries you to bed and crawls in and curls up around you. He eventually falls asleep, excited for what the next day will be.

Song Fic Request- Send me another song!!!

See Master Post for Tag List form and divider credits.

Send me asks or messages any time! I love talking to people.

[kotemf]

Cody's adopted baby clone: So what does the Coruscant Guard do, ba'vodu Fox? Fox: So when someone finds a decapitated body in the trash bin, they call the Coruscant guard and we find whoever did it. Cody: *sending Fox a murderous glare* Cody's adopted baby clone: What does decapitated mean: Cody: Fox: Cody: Fox: *starts running*

I've been rereading some of my older fics and hey, this shit might actually be worth reading.

[mae-lou-ron]

The "My Playlist Understands Me Better Than My Therapist" Tag Game

So of course I can’t find the post now, but as a writer, particularly a clone-centric star wars fan fiction writer, the concept of the music subgenre the internet calls “hornysad” made me laugh for about 3 business days.

Nobody asked, but in the spirit of having raging ✨seasonal deppresh✨ and a barnacle of creative block on my ass, here are three examples of music I listen to that either speak to my hornysad goblin, or ignite the hornysad goblin within me.

Sleep Token — particularly ‘Rain’ or ‘The Apparition’ or ‘The Summoning’ (I don’t feel like I need to explain this one + there’s also something about mysterious identity that we’ve agreed is hot— why else would “the helmet stays on” be a tag on AO3?)

The Cure — I mean come on…‘High’? ‘Just Like Heaven’? ‘Burn’? I thought of them first for this tbh.

RAYE — her sped up versions of ‘Flip a Switch’ & ‘Escapism’ are simultaneously big sexy and big sad.

-

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Opening the floor to all my fellow clone-loving goblins, particularly @jetii @dystopicjumpsuit @cloneflo99 @captn-trex @lonewolflupe @crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf @ghostymarni @vodika-vibes @eobe — because I feel like if anyone is going to understand what I’m talking about, it’s you 😂😂

Everyone (18+ obvs) is welcome to join in because I’d love to get to know you feral clone goblins a little better ♥️ I also picked 3 bc this shit apparently makes up like, 87% of my Spotify account 🤷🏼‍♀️

Bonus: the other draft titles for this post because I’m proud of them and they also deserve an honorable mention:

Help, I've Fallen Into My Sad Girl Era Again and Can't Get Up: A Musical Tag Game

Seasonal Depression's Greatest Hits: The Hornysad Tag Collection

[skellymom]

WRITER'S WALL OF FAME-CLONES!

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IF THERE IS ANYONE MISSING, OR YOU WANT ME TO ADD A WRITER PLEASE MESSAGE ME! THANKS!!!

Ok, for clarity my criteria for CLONE CONTENT:

*Clone main character

*Clone supportive cast characters with a non clone main character

*Clone OC's

*Clones showing up SOMEWHERE significant in the fic. Not just one clone character who is in and out and the rest is non clone characters

Probably the ONLY exceptions that break the other above rules could possibly be the following (and PLEASE feel free to steal these ideas):

*Characters fighting for Clone Rights in the Senate, battlefield, another planet, etc where no physical clones are present, but their story is front row and center.

*Characters interacting in the story regarding the science or cloning actions of ANY of the Clone centered operations like on Kamino or any other planet, Hemlocks clone experimentation, shadowy cabal or Gov Tarkin planning something regarding the Clones, etc. where no physical clones are present, but their story is front row and center.

*I'm cool with ALL CLONE CONTENT TYPES: action packed, slow burn, mundane, clean, comfort, angsty, sad, heart breaking, tragic, cliff hangers, friends to lovers, enemies to lovers, lovey-dovey, soothing, happy, domestic relationships, platonic relationships, hot romantic relationships, smut (off all kinds), aromantic, asexual, non-binary/genderfluid/gay/lesbian/bi/omni characters or targeted readers, baby batch, young cadet batch, etc. Your imagination is the limit!

READERS: PLEASE READ THE TAGS AND WARNING ON THESE CREATORS FICS to make sure it's what you WANT to read! PLEASE BE DISCERNING DURING YOUR JOURNEY ON TUMBLR!!!

I am allowing some of the "problematic" ships.

AND BEFOR ANYONE COMES FOR ME, IT IS UP TO THE READER TO READ THE TAGS AND WARNINGS ON THEIR JOURNEY IN "THE EYEBALL ZONE" WHILE READING FICS AND LOOKING AT VISUAL CONTENT.

I WILL NOT POLICE ANYONE.

NOT A FAN OF CENSORSHIP.

WILL NOT KINK SHAME.

THESE ARE FICTIONAL CHARACTERS.

IF YOU HAVE A PARTICULAR BEEF WITH A WRITERS CONTENT PLEASE TAKE IT UP WITH THEM. AND, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE DO IT CONSTRUCTIVELY AND DO NOT HARRASS OR TROLL THEM.

I am only one person and cannot know what some people find offensive or not. Yep, it's the interwebs and there are some things that are gonna shock you...probably even shock me. I'll leave it up to you to make those decisions and control your own content consumption.

Thanks for understanding.

*The writer MUST have a visible pinned post of their work at the top of their page! Need to make it easy for those visiting the links to find their work. Also, at this time if they are ONLY on Wattpad or Ao3 WITHOUT a visible Tumblr link (pinned post that is easy to find), I cannot list them. Again, doing this for ease of locating work and available for people primarily on Tumblr.

Also, if you suggest a creator, PLEASE make sure you spelled their Tumblr name correctly. Thanks for understanding!

PLEASE send me some love too! I created this listing to not just help people find creatives, but to PROMOTE MY OWN Tumblr account. So go check out my fics. It's called networking, baby! <3