#if you take a clone’s helmet off in space.

[biscuityskies]

Just realised that the way I’ve been imagining the pressure lock on clone helmets is like an instant pot lid

[decembermidnight]

Ner Mesh'la Jetii

Summary: After you've been assigned to your first ever mission alone as a Padawan with Clone Force 99, you explore your "secret" relationship with Hunter, completely oblivious to the fact that everyone around you knows the two of you share a special bond.

Pairing: Hunter x Jedi!fem!reader

Word count: 8.7k

Warnings: a LOT of smut, 18+ MDNI, shameless flirting, use of pet names (sweetheart), heavy making out, voice kink, authority and competency kink, masculinity kink, oral (m and f receiving), Dom!Hunter, dirty talk, body worship, hair pulling, biting, nipple play, glove kink, praise kink, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, a hint of overstimulation, creampie, Hunter being so in love it's almost pathetic

A/N: This is a sequel to Don't lose your focus! I highly suggest you go read it if you haven't already. I loved the idea of bringing these two back! This is like 85% smut it's insane I know but I'm a horny bitch what can I say As always, a massive thank you to @thefrogdalorian for being my beta and editor! I love you so much! Divider by @saradika-graphics Comments are reblogs are so appreciated! I hope you enjoy!

Masterlist - Read on Ao3

You’ve been looking forward to the moment you’d be reunited with him far more than you’d be proud to admit. In the aftermath of the unforgettable night you spent with Sergeant Hunter, you didn’t feel as guilty as perhaps would be expected for a Jedi. The guilt comes more from the fact that you’ve been craving his touch and fantasising about all the things you want to do to him... Oh, yes, your mind has wandered down a sinful path.

No matter how much meditation and training you had during the day, you’d always end up in the same place: splayed out on your bunk late at night in the solitude of your room, fingers busy giving yourself pleasure, remembering the words Hunter whispered in your ear as he held you tight in his arms.

Seeing him again as he climbed down the Marauder’s steps, fully dressed in his armour, awoke all the feelings you desperately tried to bury, especially in front of your Master. You had been worried that things would feel different, that time and space may have lessened his feelings towards you. 

That was until he took off his helmet and you saw his brown eyes lighten up when your gazes met. You knew immediately that he still felt the same about you.

You were standing there alone, your Master was busy having a restricted meeting with the Jedi Council in the briefing room. Hunter greeted you by taking your hand in his, looking at you adoringly, with a hinted smile on his face. The tension between the two of you was palpable, the lust in your gazes unmistakable. Your hand lingered in his far more than it would have been appropriate for a friendly reunion.

Stars above, the quizzical looks on the faces of the other members of the Bad Batch should have told something to you, but you both didn't care.

Hunter lost no time in luring you to the barracks with an excuse – an urgent matter to discuss with you… privately.

You wanted – no, you needed to be alone; to celebrate your reunion and the feelings you still bear for one another…

The mere thought of being alone with him after so much time fantasising about it makes your heart thunder in your chest. Hunter can sense how fast your heart is beating, and you can feel the burning desire radiating from him.

The tension keeps building as the two of you walk across the barracks side by side. The thrill of having to appear nonchalant as you meet the soldiers you fight alongside everyday, who know you so well, makes it even more exciting. Hunter looks as handsome and confident as ever on the outside, but you can feel how impatient he is for the two of you to be finally alone. You know his enhanced senses are highly attuned to every single imperceptible signal of your body that would betray your arousal. His aura is permeated with lust and desire for you, and merely feeling it is making you throb with need.

You barely have time to enter your quarters before Hunter's large, gloved hands are already cupping your face. He is so desperate to kiss you, that he cannot even wait for the door to fully close behind you.

You immediately melt into him when you finally feel his lips on yours once again. The hunger behind each frenzied kiss is apparent as your lips meet over and over. Hunter is desperate to show you how much he missed you, how much he needs you. You smile contentedly at how frantic it is, so unlike the composure you both showed until a few moments ago. 

Now that you’re passionately kissing in the secrecy of the barracks, the immense guilt you were feeling is gone. There’s only him. Him and his lips, lavishing you with the attention you desperately craved all this time.

Your arms instinctively wrap around his broad shoulders as he pushes you against the wall. You desperately want to make up for all the time you spent apart from each other.

Hunter covers your neck in kisses as his hands roam across your body, before they eventually come to a halt around your waist, caging you firmly in his embrace. He kisses you with such passion and sweetness that you are powerless to help the breathy moan that escapes from your lips.

"Oh, you have no idea how much I missed you, sweetheart," he rasps in your neck, "You have no idea."

"Missed you too, Hunter," you sigh, tone belying your arousal as your hands tangle in his hair.

When he hears those words and the sensual way you pronounce his name, Hunter presses his lips on yours with renewed desire. His mouth is a hot furnace enveloping you with its heat, and you swear your mind goes blank when his lips slowly part so that his tongue can make its way into your mouth.

It's this. This is the moment you have been yearning for. This thrill, this perfect stolen moment when you are reunited at last after so much time spent apart from each other.

He stops only so that he can look at you, at how beautiful you are. His hand goes on the small of your back, pulling you closer to him as the other cups your cheek delicately, in a gesture so soft and devoted that explains far more than words ever could. His piercing brown eyes roam between your eyes and mouth, before he captures your lips with his once more.

Hunter’s greedy hands roam across your body, trailing a path underneath your cape, and eventually under your clothes, too. It is as though he is desperate to remember the way your soft body feels under his touch. You feel shivers wherever his hands and lips roam on your naked skin.

You missed his strong hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him, the warmth of his body, the way his lips could never get enough of yours, but most of all, you missed how safe you felt in his arms.

You hear a rapping against the door which starts off gently at first. You know it’s the other members of The Bad Batch letting you know that your Master has come out of the briefing room.

You reluctantly place your hands on Hunter’s chest in a rather unconvincing attempt to push him away, certain that he must have heard the noise too. It seems like Hunter is ignoring it, though. He’s entirely focused on lavishing your neck with attention. 

"We have to go… W–we have to go… we have t–to…" you repeat mindlessly, more to yourself than to him, as he keeps kissing your neck while inhaling your intoxicating scent that he missed so much.

Hunter shushes you by kissing you on the lips again. You feel yourself clenching around nothing, a sensation that makes you groan against his lips. You grip handfuls of his thick hair, fingers digging into his dark locks. Your tongues explore each other's mouths and you pull him closer to you, wanting to feel his strong, armoured body against yours.

"You're so beautiful, sweetheart," he rasps before your lips immediately meet again.

Even though there is a nagging voice deep down reminding you both that you have to leave, you are unable to tear yourselves away from each other. 

Hunter’s adoring lips go on worshipping the delicate skin of your throat, covering it in kisses trailing down to your collarbones.

“Your skin is so soft…�� he murmurs against your chest as he goes on covering it in sweet kisses.

His fingers are gently pulling the fabric of your top down, until his gloved hand brushes against one of your hardened nipples. The sudden contact of leather with your sensitive bud elicits a small moan out of you.

Hunter does not miss your reaction, humming low in his throat at the realisation, and starts drawing circles on it with his gloved finger.

You are getting lost in his touch, so affectionate yet erotic at the same time. It’s driving you aflame with lust, turning you into a desperate mess under his feather-like touch. You sigh deeply as you throw your head back and push your chest forward to offer yourself to him even more.

“Mmmh? You like this, sweetheart?” he coos as he keeps playing with your nipple, pleased at the way your body reacts to his gloved touch, eager for more.

“Oh, you do. Your heart is racing,” he answers himself, smirking against your skin as his lips trail up your neck to kiss your pulse point. 

“Maker above, Hunter…” you whimper, heavily aroused.

Hunter lifts his head up to look at you. His brown eyes are darkened by lust at the sight of you writhing under his touch. His lips are mere inches apart from yours, curved up in a pleased smirk. He's not making an effort to come closer just yet, no. He wants to tease you and enjoy the way you're looking at him, adoring and begging for more.

That perfect moment of tension is interrupted by the return of the knocking against the door, this time more insistent than earlier.

You take advantage of Hunter’s split-second distraction to launch yourself back into kissing him with renewed fervour, completely ignoring it. He hums low in his throat, pleased by the lust that compelled your body forward, and welcomes you in his arms once again.

Your bodies grind against one another as your tongues greedily search each other’s mouths. Feeling Hunter’s body against yours sets you aflame with lust. Your throbbing, drenched pussy is desperate for relief. You are sure Hunter can smell how aroused you are and that your scent is driving him insane. You can feel it in the way his kisses grow more and more eager. You bite Hunter’s lip in a frenzied gesture of your desire which draws a low growl from his throat and causes him to further push you against the wall.

At this point, the banging on the door becomes so loud that it becomes impossible to ignore.

Hunter grunts in disappointment when you have to reluctantly end the kiss. He presses his forehead against yours, as his hands cup your face. You permit yourselves a few moments to regain your composure. He gives you one last regretful look before he pulls away. You know it’s a difficult step for Hunter, given the way your eyes are aflame for him; lips swollen and parted as your chest heaves after making out so intensely. 

Hunter takes your hand in his and you head towards the exit together. You open the door to see a rather annoyed Crosshair, who nods toward your Master. Tech and Wrecker are not far behind.

You see your Master instructing other clone soldiers outside the briefing room, not too far from where you are. You immediately head towards him, not paying attention to the way the other members of the Bad Batch are looking at Hunter.

Crosshair catches the unmistakable adoration in Hunter’s eyes as he looks at you walking away.

“Discussing…” he hisses, taunting his brother before following you.

Wrecker follows him next, pushing Hunter with his shoulder, letting out a scoff.

"Wait – you know about us?" Hunter then asks Tech.

"Of course we do, Hunter. You're not exactly subtle with that," Tech spits, evidently annoyed at how little faith Hunter has in his brothers’ ability to read such an obvious situation.

Hunter lets out a defeated sigh, then follows you and the others towards the General. So much for discretion. He always prides himself on being a cool and collected leader, completing his objective in cold blood, being meticulous and precise. Seeing you again, though, caused him to falter. He can’t help it when it comes to you, especially after he hasn’t seen you in a while. 

You take a deep, calming breath, hoping it hides the toll that the brief, yet intense, encounter has had on your body. With your nerves steadied and an apparently confident strut, you go to greet your Master, accompanied by all the members of The Bad Batch right behind you.

"Clone Force 99, it’s a pleasure to see you again," your Master says as his eyes roam across all the members of the squad.

"General, we're glad to be working with you once again," Hunter says confidently, having regained all of his martial composure. "What kind of mission do you have for us this time?" 

Stars above, the way his voice becomes even deeper when he switches to Sergeant mode causes you to feel a tingle between your legs every time.

Regretfully, now is not the time for this. You have to focus on your Master, on the mission, and absolutely not on the handsome man you’ve just passionately made out with. You can’t mess this up, not when your Master encourages you to think of a plan and he’s listening to you carefully. After all this time following him, battle after battle, he is starting to give you more independence, to hear your voice and trust your judgement. 

It is difficult to focus after you notice the way Hunter is looking at you, though. He is entranced by how secure and confident you look as you draw up a strategy.

You decide to act on his desire for you, to render him a desperate, flustered mess.

So, with a quick, casual gesture of your hand, you flip your hair behind your shoulder to offer him a better view of your neck. The small movement causes a hint of your scent to waft over to him. You catch out the corner of your eye as he closes his eyes for a fraction of a second when he inhales it. He clenches his hands into fists, longing for the moment when he will bury his face in your neck again. Maker above, he wants you.

You wish you could send him a fleeting, mischievous look, but your gaze is focused on your Master's observant eyes. You figure that ignoring Hunter as he's struggling with his desire for you would make you even more irresistible. You feel an immense power at the realisation. You, a Jedi, can cause this man to crumble in front of your eyes, all while you are merely conversing with your Master. He is watching you do something so simple, yet he would drop to his knees to worship the literal ground you walk on, should you only give the order…

Once the plan is all set and you’re about to climb the steps of the Marauder, ready to take off for this new exciting mission with The Bad Batch, your Master calls your name and you stop in your tracks.

“Yes?” you turn around to face him.

“A word?”

“Of course, Master.” 

"The Council wants me to go on a diplomatic mission," he confesses as he crosses his arms looking at you.

"A diplomatic mission? Was that the reason for your meeting earlier? When are we leaving?"

"I’ll be going alone. You're not coming with me this time. It’s a very delicate negotiation," he explains in a cold voice.

You're conflicted. On one hand, there's your duty as a Jedi, to insist and follow your Master. On the other, you'd be disappointed to leave just now that you've reunited with Hunter. The perspective of having another mission together was incredibly exciting, and the thought of having just another moment alone with him, was fueling you with fire.

In the end, though, you decide to do the right thing. Your Jedi duties come before anything else.

"What?! I’m your Padawan, I should be by your side. What if you need me? What if I need you?"

"You will go with Clone Force 99. No further discussion,” he replies, ignoring your protests.

You sigh deeply as you try to think of an answer. He can sense the turmoil in you and decides to reassure you.

“That plan you drew up is good,” he says, and then pauses briefly to look into your eyes. “I trust you."

He is not exactly what you would define as a talkative person, so you know every word counts. You certainly cannot refuse after he just told you he trusts you so much he has assigned you to your first mission alone. No, not now that your Master thinks you’re ready, not now that he said those words to you.

“Thank you, Master. I will make you proud,” you smile back at him, sincerely comforted by his words.

"Come on, let's go now. If you succeed, you'll have plenty of time to celebrate with your Sergeant," he teases you as he turns around to get back on the ship.

"Master?!" you can only reply.

He briefly turns around and you see him stifle a laugh at your reaction. That’s unusual of him.

He knows. He knows, you're sure. No matter how much you try to hide it – at least when you're in front of him – you feel like there's nothing you can ever hide from your Master. He can read you like a book, after all these years spent together. Maybe it's because he, too, had experienced a forbidden attachment like this, many years ago, before taking you as a Padawan, before becoming a Jedi knight…

As the adrenaline slowly wears out after your first, successful battle without your Master’s supervision, you can’t help but think how different the Bad Batch's approach is from your battalion. You worked as a team and it was a pleasure to assist in the flawless, coordinated way they eliminated an entire battalion of droids before your eyes. Hunter gave the orders and effortlessly slayed droids with his vibroknife. He knew he looked incredibly attractive while doing so. He played along with his blade, making it dramatically twirl in his hands way more than necessary. It was so obvious that he wanted to act cool in front of your eyes. You decided to do the same and to look elegant and precise while using your lightsabers. You felt his gaze locked on you, and you hoped he was enjoying it and smiling underneath his helmet.

As you walk back toward the Marauder, you hear Wrecker bragging to Crosshair about how many droids he had eliminated. He groans loudly in defeat when he hears that his brother surpassed him, again. He groans even louder when he hears you’ve slayed more than double his total.

You let out a small laugh at his reaction as you walk with Hunter by your side.

“It’s hard to compete with a Jedi,” his voice sounds even deeper and huskier when it’s distorted by the modulator in his helmet.

You turn and face him, the both of you stopping in your tracks. Hunter places a hand on your cheek and caresses your face tenderly, looking at you leaning into his touch so sweetly. You feel his gaze trained on you from behind the dark visor. His helmet tilts slightly, taking in your beauty. Grateful for the gift of an unexpected, fleeting moment alone.

You shyly trail your hands up his armoured chest to try and reach the sides of his helmet to lift it from his face. You want nothing more than to see his deep, brown eyes looking at you. Just as your fingers make contact with his helmet, a distant sound interrupts you.

“Get a room!” Wrecker impatiently yells at the two of you from the Marauder’s ramp.

You can’t help the laugh that escapes from your lips.

Hunter looks at the big grin that spreads on your face, at you being so genuinely happy in this perfect moment. He’s grateful to the helmet he’s still wearing, so that you can’t witness how lovestruck he looks at the sight of you smiling.

He gives you an apologetic shrug of his shoulders and you follow the others up the Marauder’s ramp.

Armours and weapons now long discarded, you have an amazing time with The Bad Batch on your way back. Journeying through hyperspace is a quiet time dedicated to silence and meditation when you travel with your quiet, reserved Master. This time, however, you spend quite a few hours conversing and laughing with the squad, all while sending mischievous looks to Hunter from time to time. Hunter can't take his eyes off you. You feel them shamelessly roaming across the feminine curves of your body, this time not hidden by the baggy Jedi cape. The carnal desire in his eyes is a silent promise to pick up where you left off earlier.

When all the other members of the Bad Batch are finally asleep after all those hours spent drinking and joking, you finally sneak away, locking yourselves alone in the cockpit. Hunter loses no time in pushing you against the door behind you with his strong, masculine body. He immediately starts to kiss your neck and to inhale your intoxicating scent.

“You’ve been incredible today, Sergeant.” you whisper in his hair.

Hunter lifts his head to meet his gaze with yours. He takes in your beauty, the way your eyes glimmer in admiration for him. He then joins your lips in a passionate kiss that makes your knees tremble.

“Have I, Commander?” he rasps against your lips, before grazing your neck with his teeth and placing tender kisses along your delicate skin.

Maker, he loves your neck. He knows all the sweet spots where to concentrate his ministrations to elicit the prettiest whimpers out of you. You gasp as you tangle your hand in his hair.

“Y-yes. Absolutely. Oh, Stars, Hunter…” you can barely whisper before your vision gets blurry, your head swimming in pleasure.

Hunter buries his face in your neck and in your hair, wishing to be as close as possible to you. He is addicted to your scent.

He starts to undress you with care and devotion, touching you like the most precious thing in the galaxy. You sigh when you feel his warm hands roaming under your shirt, touching your soft, naked skin as he slowly peels your clothes away from your body. His adoring gaze is fixed between your feminine body and your eyes, glimmering for him. He caresses your body, worshipping every single inch of your skin. His mouth starts planting kisses across your collarbones and chest, leaving marks here and there, kissing the gentle curve of your shoulder. 

You can feel his erection brushing against your lower belly. He’s insanely hard, still encased in his thin, black suit. His cock is throbbing for you already, and the mere idea of having that effect on him makes you dizzy with want. You pull him closer, the kisses becoming even more passionate as you look for friction. You desperately try to keep your moans low, muffling them in each other's mouths.

You hold on tight to his strong, muscular biceps before pushing him to sit on the pilot chair. You immediately kneel in front of him, your eyes darkened by lust at the sight before your eyes. You can clearly see the outline of his thick cock and it’s making you dizzy with want. You’re impatient to feel it inside of you, thinking how pleasurable it will be. Before that, though, you want to please him. You want him to know how much you missed him, how much you worship him, to give him something to dream of in his lonely nights.

“What are you doing, eh?” he asks, smirking when he sees you acting like that.

“Hunter, I want you to enjoy my mouth,” you smile provocatively, feeling brazen now that you can finally give into one of your many late-night fantasies.

He watches in awe as you kiss his erection from outside his thin suit, choking a moan at the sight of you down there, so eager to give him pleasure.

“Mesh’la…” he murmurs. It’s a word coming from a language you’ve never heard, but you love the sound of it coming from his lips. 

You start to slowly undo his pants, careful not to inadvertently brush your hands against his cock. You only want him to feel the warmth and softness of your loving mouth.

Once you free his rock-hard, throbbing length, you look back at Hunter with a mischievous grin on your face. You slowly trail your tongue from the base to the tip while keeping eye contact. Hunter’s whole body goes rigid at that, and you hear him suppressing a moan in his throat. His fingers are digging into the armrest of the pilot chair, the veins in his hands popping out.

You have barely started, but Hunter is already a mess beneath you. The touch of your velvety, hot tongue is driving him insane and he can already tell he’ll be addicted to your beautiful mouth.

You decide to let him slowly simmer, building up pleasure until he’ll be crying out your name in a strangled moan. The mere idea sets you aflame with lust.

You start by giving small, kitten licks to the head of his cock. Hunter throws his head back, offering you a sinful view of his throat as he exhales in ecstasy.

“Eyes on me, Sergeant,” you point out teasingly, pleased at the way you’re reducing him.

As soon as Hunter looks back at you, you sensually lick your lips to dampen them before enveloping them around the head of his cock. Hunter is mesmerised by the view and feeling of something so warm and beautiful, all for him to enjoy. 

Your tongue twirls around the head of his cock as you go down, massaging his shaft with your lips. Hunter clenches his jaw to suppress a moan when you let his cock glide into your throat.

You start to bob your head up and down his shaft and that’s when he loses it completely. He stifles a desperate laugh at how good it feels.

“Oh, sweetheart. Doing so good for me…” he praises you. 

You love reducing him to this. You’re so damn wet and turned on, but you don't want to touch yourself just yet, no. This is all about him. You only want to focus on him, on his cock and the way his body reacts to your mouth.

"Oh, fuck…" he whimpers, trying his best not to come in your mouth as you look so provocative and sensual for him only.

Hunter looks stunning as he slouches into the pilot chair in just his black suit, trying to muffle his own moans of pleasure. The only source of light comes from the windshield of the Marauder in hyperspace. The blue hues highlight the muscles of his broad chest as it heaves up and down. His lips are curved up in a pleased smirk as his gaze is locked on you, completely entranced by the way your lips wrap around his cock. 

You feel your arousal starting to drip down your inner thighs at that sight. Your clit is swollen and needy, begging for relief as you drive Hunter insane with your sweet mouth.

You can tell he’s getting dangerously close to the edge by the way his breathing becomes more shallow and frantic, the muscles of his strong body tensing up in preparation. That blissful sight of him, a cool and collected soldier desperately trying to keep it all under control, makes you want to push it even further.

“M-mesh’la, stop. S-stop. You’re gonna make me—an–and I want to fuck you. I want to fuck you, mesh’la. I want to fu–fuck y–” 

"Come in my mouth, Hunter. I want to taste you," you interrupt him by sending a message through the Force, not wanting to stop just now that he's right on the edge.

Hunter can’t do anything but surrender when he sees the sheer lust in your eyes, the desire to taste him. The mere vision of you, the object of his desires ever since he laid eyes upon you, acting so filthy for him, sends him over the edge. His whole body tenses up even more until you feel his cock spurting his cum in your mouth, filling it with his delicious release. You swallow it as you go, savouring the salty, slightly bitter taste of his release. He can’t help the way his hips thrust to push his cock further into your throat, while simultaneously clenching his jaw to avoid moaning your name out loud and waking up the rest of the Batch.

Hunter is in a state of unadulterated bliss as he catches his breath. There's a grin on his face as he looks down at you between his legs, his spent cock still in your mouth. 

You let it out in a loud pop and lick your lips provocatively. Hunter grabs your jaw in his hand, bringing you closer to him and kisses you passionately, tasting himself on your tongue. He's ravenous like a hungry beast. He moans in your mouth and you think you can't be any more turned on, but then Hunter surprises you again.

His strong arms lift you up as he kisses you, walking until the back of your thighs hit the command panel.

"My turn now," he smirks.

He kneels in front of you and spreads your legs, taking your drenched panties off.

Hunter takes in the heavenly view of your glistening core just right before his eyes. You're so eager for his touch, you bury your hands in his hair in an attempt to pull him closer.

Despite how tempting and luscious you look, Hunter does not give in just yet. He starts to kiss your inner thighs, licking all the drops of arousal coating them, making you shudder with need.

"Hunter…" you plead, your legs are already shaking but his strong grip keeps them spread open for him.

“Look at you. You were so hot on your knees, with my cock in your mouth, but this… This is even better. I love hearing you beg for me, sweetheart.”

This man can make you lose your Jedi composure, especially when his mouth is so close to your pussy and you can feel his hot breath on it as he whispers those words.

“Oh, Hunter, please…” you beg for him once again, your grip on his hair tightens and you wish you could just push your cunt into his mouth. His strong arms are keeping you still as you’re pathetically grinding your hips in front of his face, without the possibility of reaching it unless he allows it.

Hunter smirks at how desperate you are for relief. The sweet, intoxicating scent of your arousal is the most addicting thing he’s ever smelled. Despite how much he loves seeing you like this and how beautiful you look, he cannot wait any longer, he has to bury his tongue in your folds and taste you. It’s been so long, he missed it so much.

He digs his face between your legs and his tongue starts to run along your folds. He savours you, humming contendently when your sweet taste fills his mouth. You arch your back and sigh deeply as Hunter’s tongue masterfully licks your clit, committed to offering you the highest pleasure.

“You taste so fucking good, damn,” he pants as he briefly gasps for breath, before returning to where you want him the most.

“All for you,” you manage to whisper while looking at the sight below you, at the Sergeant that just a few hours ago was so authoritative and killed his enemies mercilessly, but now he is on his knees, worshipping you with his mouth and every inch of his body.

You clench at the sight below you, tugging on his hair harder as you start to grind your hips, rubbing your cunt in his face.

You can feel Hunter’s fingers digging harder into the flesh of your thighs, a low hum coming from his throat. 

"That’s it. Ride my fucking face, mesh'la," he rasps authoritatively.

He’s loving it. He loves it when you use his body for your pleasure. He loves hearing your sweet moans for him and looking at your blissed-out face.

"Yes, Sergeant," you moan as you obey his order.

Your hips keep grinding to rub your cunt on his face, the pleasure quickly building up. You tug on his hair, riding his face in chase of your own orgasm.

“Hunter, Hunter, I’m–” you pant.

Hunter purrs into your cunt and his tongue licks your clit even faster, pushing you over the edge.

You thread your fingers through his soft brown curls and tug on them as a white-hot wave of pure bliss traverses your body. As you come, Hunter’s tongue keeps that devastating rhythm that makes your eyes roll backwards and your jaw drop open. You strangle the moan in your throat, preventing you from screaming his name and making everyone in the Marauder aware of what is happening in the cockpit.

Hunter keeps masterfully licking and sucking your clit until you come down from your high. He only stops once you finally release your tight grip on his hair.

“Could go on like this for hours, sweetheart. You taste so good, I can’t ever get enough of you,” he murmurs in between kisses to your inner thighs.

“Oh, Hunter, you have no idea how much I would adore that,” you say with a blissful smile on your face, thinking of how many orgasms he could draw out of you before turning you into a writhing, desperate mess. The mere thought sparks another fire of lust within you.

“Come here, Sergeant,” you call him with an urge to feel his body against yours once again.

Hunter is more than pleased to oblige. As he stands up in front of you, you are struck by how tall and handsome he is. You take a look at his face, still glistening in your arousal. You tug on his hair and trail your tongue along his lips, tasting the faint salty taste of your orgasm. He cups your face in his hands and kisses you on your mouth passionately. Your tongues taste each other’s pleasure, an addictive, lustful blend.

"We taste so good together, Hunter," you pant once your lips part.

“We do, sweetheart,” he growls as he pulls you to sit back down in the chair, making you straddle him. A proud smirk forms on his face when you notice he's hard and ready for you, again.

You immediately start grinding your wet, hot cunt all over the length of his thick cock, getting yourself off, drenching his cock and moaning softly in his ear. You trail your tongue along his neck, tasting his masculine scent, before softly biting on his earlobe. 

“Take it off,” you whisper sensually in his ear, letting your hand roam down his abdomen, hinting at his tight, black shirt.

Hunter's whole body jerks under your touch as he suppresses a whimper. You can't believe you've reduced this fierce man into this whimpering mess; begging for you to ride his dick. The mere thought sends you another spark of desire between your legs.

Hunter obeys and strips immediately, offering you the tempting view of his strong, masculine body. His golden skin is hot to the touch, muscles rippling wherever your hand roams. You follow the contours of his chest tattoo - half rib cage that matches the half-skull tattooed on his face. The touch of your fingers is feather-like as you trace the ink decorating that stunning body. Hunter looks at you carefully, at the pleased expression on your face as your hand slowly trails down his abdomen. A mischievous smile forms on your lips as you align his cock to your entrance. You let the head slip inside of you and stop to look at his eyes. He has such a desperate expression on his face that makes you want to tease him even further.

"Mesh'la…" the way he says it, low in his throat, needy and firm at the same time, makes you clench around him.

"Quiet, Sergeant," you whisper against his lips, your hands cupping his face, fingers gently tracing the contours of his half-skull tattoo, before kissing him on his lips.

As your tongues explore each other's mouths, you slowly sink down on him, enjoying every single ridge and vein of his throbbing erection as he splits you open. He moans in your mouth and you swallow it greedily, kissing him with even more passion. You look at his deep, brown eyes as you keep going. His brow furrows slightly, overwhelmed by the feeling of your tight, wet cunt around his cock.

You have seen his fierce eyes, how tough he looks when he's in charge, when he has to be a soldier and slay his enemies, but this... This is different. He's looking at you with nothing but reverence and desperation. You have reduced Sergeant Hunter to this needy man panting beneath you. The power surge you feel at the sight below you is making you bold and confident. You feel like the most beautiful woman in the galaxy as you look at him staring at you, at his worshipful brown eyes. The thought drives you insane with lust.

Just as you bury his cock inside of you to the hilt, you stop. You feel each other clenching and throbbing in turns, getting used to the pleasurable sensation when your bodies join together as one.

You're both out of breath. Your fingers dig into his thick, wavy hair while his hands wrap around your waist. His touch is delicate and reverential. You're nothing like he's used to. He's used to battle and weapons, not the warm softness of your body. He's looking at you like you're the most precious thing he's ever laid eyes upon. His hands are callous after so many battles, and he rejoices in feeling how your skin is soft in contrast.

You lift your hips slowly, your tight cunt gripping his length in its grasp as it leaves your warmth, soaking wet already. You leave just the tip in, enjoying the desperate expression on his face. His brown eyes are filled with lust as he silently begs for you to resume your movement.

You sink back down on it slowly, wanting to enjoy every single inch of his length. You both moan and sigh in turns, until you have his cock buried to the hilt inside of you once again.

“I missed you so much…” you whisper against his lips as you start riding him sensually.

“You have no idea. Every – every f–fucking day I thought about you," he whimpers "thought of this," he adds as his arms wrap around your body, pulling you closer to him.

You know it should feel wrong to be so attached to a man, to smile at the tender words he says while you’re making love. This is not the Jedi way, after all. But how can it be wrong when looking into his eyes feels so perfect?

A wide grin forms on your face as you look at the man below you, worshipping you like a goddess.

Hunter is mesmerised by the view of your breasts bouncing right in front of his face. He can’t resist and just starts to kiss one of them, sucking on the soft skin. He then takes your nipple between his lips, making his tongue twirl around it, eliciting a pleased moan out of you. His thumb rubs your lips possessively and you welcome it into your mouth, sucking it provocatively, turning him on even more. 

"How in the galaxy do I fucking deserve this? How do I fucking deserve you?" he whimpers as he looks at you being so sensually beautiful.

You capture his lips in yet another passionate kiss, as if you were unable to have your lips parted from one another. Hunter's fingers then dig into your hair and gently pull your head to the side so that he can cover your neck in kisses as he gets lost in your scent.

He breathes you in as if your scent was oxygen. He's addicted to it – soft, feminine, comforting yet so sensual it drives him insane and can barely restrain himself from fucking you every time he catches it.

Your scent lingered in his bunk after you spent your first night together. The days following your encounter, any time he went to rest, he smelled you and a bittersweet smile appeared on his face. Hunter was nostalgic of that night you spent together, and was determined not to let you slip away from him another time, if he ever met you again.

"Your scent drives me insane, mesh'la," he confesses, his hot breath washing against your skin.

That word, again.

Your hands cup the sides of his neck as your thumbs rub his throat possessively. He lifts his chin to face you, looking at you with his adoring brown eyes. 

"Hunter," you let out in an aroused sigh "W–what does mesh'la mean?"

He cups your face in his hands and tilts it towards him so you can look in his eyes – deep, sincere, devoted.

"Beautiful. You're beautiful, sweetheart," he says before stealing another passionate kiss that makes you flutter around him.

Hunter hums in his throat and deepens the kiss even further, tangling his fingers in your hair, caressing you as if you were the most fragile and precious thing he's ever touched.

“Ner mesh'la jetii," he whispers in your ear sweetly. "My beautiful, beautiful Jedi. You looked so good – brave, strong, powerful, fighting with your lightsabers. I couldn’t take my eyes off you, sweetheart,” he says before his lips are back on your neck, lavishing it in sweet kisses.

Hunter can’t resist biting the soft flesh of your neck, yet he is careful to only leave marks on your skin where he knows your body will be covered by clothes. He is so attentive and careful even when he's possessed by lust. He wouldn't want anything more than to mark your neck, so that you could show everyone who you belong to, but he understands – you're a Jedi, he's a Clone Trooper. He wouldn't want to jeopardise the brilliant future you have ahead due to his own selfishness. It's a silent agreement you respect and understand, too.

His lips keep adoringly tracing the sensual curve of your shoulder as you keep riding him, as you gradually increase your rhythm to grant the highest pleasure for you both, your panting hot against his neck. Your clit is pleasurably rubbing against his shaft, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

Your body starts trembling, your breathing gets shallower and you can’t help letting out whimpers. Hunter grabs your hair and pulls so that he can look at you getting off on his dick. He can feel you're close, his senses are highly attuned to every signal your body gives out.

"Use your words," he orders.

"I'm coming, Hunter," you say in a desperate, pleading voice.

"Don't you love coming on my cock, sweetheart?" his voice is dark and lustful, giving you goosebumps all over your body.

You smile and nod in response, but that's when he grabs your throat to force you to look at him, and you see that flame in his eyes again.

"Answer me," he rasps authoritatively, drawing you even closer to your orgasm.

"Y–yes, I–I do," your voice is shaky, jaw trembling in his hand and breathing getting even more shallow. 

"Say it." 

"I – oh, fuck – I love coming on your cock, Hunter," your voice sounds so sweet and shaky when you pronounce those words. You can clearly feel his cock throbbing and hear a low, pleased growl in his throat.

"Then come on my fucking cock, Commander," he orders.

You finally let go as soon as you hear his order and just as your eyes roll backwards. Your lips part in ecstasy and he's quick to capture them in a kiss to muffle your moans. Hunter grunts low in his throat as he feels your cunt clamping erratically around his cock, his hand keeping your jaw in place for him as he sticks his tongue inside your mouth. He swallows every single moan of yours as he rides you through your high.

As the orgasm slowly fades out, you find yourself panting against his mouth, your foreheads are touching and notice his brown eyes are still looking at you adoringly. You're blissfully smiling, being reminded just how much pleasure Sergeant Hunter can bring you. A pleasure you can't reach late at night, alone in your bed with your fingers only.

Hunter lets you catch your breath like that, cradled by his strong arms as he keeps shallowly thrusting into your sensitive cunt.

"I want to fuck you, sweetheart," he whispers, his nose brushing against your hairline.

"You are," you giggle.

"No, sweetheart, I want to fuck you," he articulates, the grip of his hands on the back of your thighs turning to steel, lifting you as he stands up from the pilot chair. 

You barely have time to register what’s happening, when his cock slips out of you and your back suddenly feels the coldness of the floor against its flustered skin, making you gasp. Hunter’s hands cradle your head and the small of your back, to shield you.

“I got you,” he smiles reassuringly before he enters back into you in one thrust. The combination of those actions makes you clamp around his cock, and a small whimper escapes your lips.

Hunter immediately covers your mouth with his to muffle your desperate moans as you feel his cock stretching your sensitive cunt even further.

And there you are, giving into your animalistic desire for each other on the cold, metallic floor of the cockpit.

Oh, it's so good. You love riding him, but having him on top of you, pumping his hard cock inside of you is even better. Hunter's grip on your body tightens as he feels how hard your walls clench around his cock when he acts so dominant. Your eyes roll backwards each time he hits that spot inside of you, making you see stars. 

"S–so good, so, so fucking g–good," he whimpers as he keeps thrusting into you pleasurably slowly. He wants to enjoy every single inch of your hot, wet cunt.

His voice is so low and desperate that your walls clench hard around him. The sensation is so pleasurable that he has to stop abruptly, a grunt escaping from his lips. He doesn't want to come inside of you just yet.

"Damn, sweetheart, you're killing me," he pants in your ear.

He takes your lobe between his teeth and softly bites it, growling like a rabid, hungry beast. You let out a whimper at that.

"Oh, I know, I know," he purrs. "I know you can take it. You're such a good girl for me."

You swear his voice alone could make you come.

Your eyes shut in bliss, getting lost in the feeling of being so full of him once again.

"Look at me, mesh'la," he whispers softly, yet authoritatively.

When you open your eyes for him again, a smug smirk forms on his lips.

"Yes, like this. Damn, you're so fucking pretty," he growls in between violent thrusts that make you see stars.

"Been wanting to bury my dick inside of you since we were in your barracks earlier.  If they didn't stop us, I'd–" he pauses. The hand covering your mouth goes into your hair, delicately caressing it. "Damn, sweetheart, I'm losing my mind. Missed fucking you so much," he whispers against your neck and you feel his hot breath against your already flustered skin.

“Me too, Hunter, me too,” you can barely mumble, a blissful smile on your face as his cock keeps hitting that perfect spot inside of you.

But Hunter doesn’t stop there, no. He continues worshipping you with his mouth, with his hands and with his body as he thrusts into you.

You grab a handful of his hair and pull it, so you can have access to his neck to sensually trail your tongue along it and then bite it. Hunter moans in surprise, heavily aroused by your gesture, and buries his cock inside of you to the hilt, then stops and grunts in your neck.

"Fuck. Fuck, sweetheart. It's a dangerous game you're playing," he growls.

You giggle in his neck before biting him even harder.

"Not gonna last if you – if you–" his dark voice betrays a hint of desperation which turns you on even more.

Hunter grabs a handful of your hair in response, planting his elbow on the floor and covers your mouth with his other hand before starting to thrust into you so hard you can't help rolling your eyes.

The way he's giving it to you is so raw and feral, it's driving you insane as you drag your nails across his muscular back. Hunter bites back into your neck and growls wildly, determined to give it to you until he fucks every trace of sanity away from your body.

"Oh, is this what you wanted, sweetheart?" he grits darkly against your neck. "You like it rough, mh? Stars, I can feel how much you like this," he smirks.

Hunter's hand leaves the back of your head and goes between your legs, his thumb starting to rub your clit. A whimper escapes from your throat.

"Quiet. Quiet, pretty girl, or they're gonna hear us," he whispers in your ear.

You clench hard at that, making Hunter choke a grunt in his throat in response.

"Give me one more. One more, sweetheart," he murmurs softly, yet with an air of authoritativeness.

You love it when his more dominant side comes out when he fucks you, giving you orders like the natural born leader he is. It’s a role that fits him perfectly. You gladly follow his lead as he tames your fiery personality in a way no one ever did.

His thick fingers are rubbing your swollen clit in the most delicious, yet devastating way. His touch drives you towards another orgasm, embarrassingly soon after he ripped the previous one from your weary body. Hunter can sense your heart thundering in your chest, the irregular way you're breathing, your body tensing in preparation.

"Yeah. Let me see how beautiful you are when you come on my cock," he says in his deep, husky voice, encouraging you to let go.

His words give you the final push and you come hard around him. It's an overwhelming hot blaze of bliss starting at your core and ripping your whole body and soul apart. Hunter's large hand muffles the desperate moans that shouldn't escape your mouth.

"Yes, yes, there it is. Good girl. You're my good girl," he encourages you as he keeps rubbing circles on your swollen clit, your walls fluttering around his thick cock as he keeps thrusting into you.

Your eyes roll backwards, unable to stay focused on his gaze. Seeing the way you're enjoying this, the immense pleasure you're feeling, drives Hunter close to the edge too.

"You're so fucking beautiful. Oh, I'm gonna come inside of you. You belong to me. To me. You are mine," he growls.

His thrusts lose that merciless rhythm and grow slower and deeper. He eventually comes with a ragged groan in your ear, making you clench even harder around him when you hear that desperate sound. He tightens his grip around your waist, as if he was afraid you might slip away from him again. Hunter buries his cock deep in your cunt as the warmth of his release spreads inside of you. He kisses you desperately, like he never wants this to end. You’re enveloped in the warm embrace of his strong, masculine body. His warm breath washes across your skin as he whispers tender words about how much he missed you and how perfect you are. Your hands are tenderly cupping the sides of his face as you reciprocate his kisses, smiling against his lips as his thrusts slowly come to an end.

Taglist: @sonicrainbooms

[leapingbadger]

Rumors

I swear I used to be normal and now if my brain is quiet for a minute it creates a conversation between two fictional clones!

Anyway, this is a fun little chat between Cody and Hunter as they didn't get the screen time they deserved. Hunter helps Cody through some CodyWan stuff.

Cody sat in a half empty diner in the lower levels of Coruscant, pushing his half-eaten food around the plate, more for something to do than because he actually wanted to eat it. The sun from the artificial daylight didn’t reach down this far, not that it mattered this time of day. Neon signs glowed on the dark, steely exterior of the buildings as he gazed out of the window.

He looked at the chrono in the corner of the room and sighed, what was taking so long? Just as he was about to give up, a figure strode in the restaurant, his large black and red pauldrons dwarfing those around him and making him look too wide for the space, his helmet tucked under his arm. Hunter’s face cracked into a smile upon spotting the Commander. His half skull tattoo certainly made him look more menacing to those who didn’t know him, but to Cody, he would always be his baby brother.

“Nice of you to join me,” Cody said with a smile, standing up and squeezing Hunter’s forearm as he did the same in return.

“You know I can’t say no to you, big brother. What’s so urgent?”

Cody sat down and indicated for Hunter to do the same. He had to shove the table a little to get into the booth with all his heavy armor on. Cody looked around, noticing eyes on them.

“You couldn’t have been more subtle?” he asked in an amused but exasperated voice.

“Cody, I dragged my ass halfway across the city I the middle of the nightcycle for this. What do you need?” Hunter replied with an eye roll.

A waitress in a blue uniform and four arms strode over, “What can I get ya, hun?” she asked Hunter in a bored voice.

“Just caf, please.” He said, turning back to Cody, “well? Is everything okay? I’m assuming it’s not about a job or you’d have invited all of us.”

Cody chuckled and shook his head, “where are the rest of the degenerates tonight?” He asked.

“I left them at 79s a few hours ago. Cross and Wrecker were fighting over the same Twi’lek and I didn’t have the energy to intervene. Besides, she was more interested in Tech anyway.” He said with a chuckle.

“You didn’t want to take a shot yourself?” Cody asked conversationally.

“We have back-to-back missions and I’m running on caf and some supplement of Tech’s own invention that I’m starting to think may be an illicit substance. I just wanted to sleep, until you dragged me out of bed.” Hunter said with a huff. “Cody, seriously, is everything okay?” he asked, leaning forward in the low light of the diner to try and get a better look at his brother.

Cody pulled his civilian clothes closer around him as the waitress returned with a cup and a pitcher of caf for Hunter. He smiled his thanks and poured the first of what would likely be many cups.

“I …um…I heard something today…wasn’t sure who to talk to about it with Rex off planet and you know…it being…confidential.”

Hunter lounged back in his seat, “Are you kriffing kidding me? You dragged me out of bed to talk about your boyfriend?” he said with a laugh so loud the other patrons’ heads whipped around.

“Shh” Cody hissed, lowering his head and covering the side of his face with his hand.

Hunter regained his composure, his eyes soft on his brother, a pitying smile on his lips, “I don’t have any experience with relationships, Vod, I don’t think I’m going to be much help. And Rex wouldn’t be able to help either. You’re in uncharted territory, my friend. Maybe you should call Bly.”

Cody narrowed his eyes, “I’ve seen you at 79s, you do okay for yourself.”

Hunter looked smug but waved his hand dismissively, “those aren’t relationships, they’re…encounters.”

Cody grinned, “Your last encounter looked pretty nice.”

“Ah, she was,” Hunter said, his eyes un-focusing for a moment before being brought back to reality, “but we’re not like you. We don’t stay in one place long enough for the whole relationship thing. And we don’t have a Jedi to fall in love with. So now that we’ve established that I am the worst person you could be talking to about this, except maybe Tech, what can I do for you?”

Cody sighed, suddenly feeling awkward and wondering if he should have just gone to speak with Obi Wan directly.

“You might not have a Jedi now, but you had a pretty epic crush on Shaak Ti back in the day.” Cody said with a grin.

Hunter rolled his eyes, “Every cadet on Kamino had a crush on Shaak Ti.”

“Not all of them drew pictures of her,” Cody teased.

“Okay, okay. So, you asked me here to shoot you, it that it?” Hunter joked.

Cody liked that he could tease his brother. As the leader of Clone Force 99, Hunter was rarely given the space to let off steam because he was constantly responsible for his younger and more rebellious brothers. With Cody, he got to be the little brother, and the Commander relished that for him.

“So, what’s the matter?” Hunter asked, clearly losing patience.

“I think…I think Obi Wan might be cheating. I heard rumors this morning, that he’s seeing someone.”

Hunter arched his eyebrow. “Who did you hear this from?” he asked, taking a deep sip of his caf and wrapping his large hands around the small mug.

“General Skywalker asked me about it. Wondered if I knew anything about Obi Wan’s…extracurricular activities. He said he was gone at strange hours of the night,” Cody said. He fell silent, looking at his brother across the table, trying to decipher his face and failing. Hunter put the mug down and ran his hands through his long hair exasperatedly.

“Cody, It’s 3’oclock in the morning. And you’re worried about a rumor that Obi Wan is seeing someone? He is, Commander, he’s seeing you. Has been for months now. I heard that rumor too, you know why I didn’t comm you? Because I know it’s true.”

Cody blushed as he sat up straight, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. Was he really this stupid? “Do you think Master Skywalker knows?” he asked in a sudden panic.

Hunter waved his hand again and poured himself some more caf, “Skywalker doesn’t know bantha shit. He’s too consumed with banging Senator Amidala to notice that you’re banging Kenobi.”

“You wanna say that a bit louder? I don’t think the kitchen staff heard you.” Cody hissed.

Hunter gave an apologetic smile and leaned low on the table so they could whisper to each other.

“From what you told me you don’t have to worry about Kenobi, he’s got it pretty bad.” Hunter said with a chuckle as he downed another cup of caf. “And so do you by the looks of it.”

Cody felt the heat rise in his cheeks and touch the tips of his ears, “I really hate you sometimes,” Cody said, unable to keep the smile off of his face.

“You really don’t. You wish you could though,” Hunter said with a smirk. “So, what now? Wanna come to 79s with me and round up my brothers? Or do you have somewhere else you need to be?” the younger brother asked, eyebrows raised suggestively.

Cody threw a napkin at him and smirked, “I think I’ll head to bed.” He said knowingly.

“Yours or Kenobi’s?” Hunter continued, clearly enjoying teasing his Vod.

Cody looked for something else to throw, his fingers inching towards his cutlery.

“Don’t even think about it, Commander.” Hunter said as he slid out of the booth, throwing some credits on the table.

Cody chuckled and got up to leave as well. They stepped into the cool atmosphere of the undercity when Hunter’s comm sounded, “Ah, Sarg, I think we’re gunna need an extraction.” Wrecker’s boisterous and inebriated voice sounded.

Hunter sighed and rolled his eyes before pressing the comm, “I’m on my way. What’s wrong?”

Wrecker laughed into the line, “It’s Tech, he’s cornered and we’re either going to have to extract him or buy him back.”

“Buy him back?” Hunter asked through gritted teeth.

“Crosshair sold ‘im,” Wrecker chuckled.

“I would have sold you, but he was worth more,” Crosshair’s snide voice sounded in the background.

Cody watched as every emotion crossed Hunter’s face before it settled into that of the stoic Sergeant.

“Have a good night, Vod,” He said to Cody with a little salute, “Tell the general I said hi.”

Cody laughed as his brother disappeared into the night and hailed a taxi to take him back to the surface.

“Where to?” The cabbie asked.

“The jedi temple,” Cody said with a smile.

[paracosm-draw]

Promptober Day 9 - Warmth ☄️

Tags : medical terms, injured Anakin, naked bodies, no smut

~~~

They were in the middle of the battlefield, rain pouring from the sky and making the ground muddy and slippery. All around, the fast bolt of the blasters pierced through the downpour, illuminating briefly the masks and faces of the Republic army.

Obi-Wan was on the front line, fending off shot after shot with his lightsaber to allow his men to progress. He was almost blinded by the rain dripping on his face and pooling on his eyebrows, hair stuck to his temples and neck, his damped clothes rubbing unpleasantly against his cold skin with each movement.

He was pushing away another battle droid when the Force shifted suddenly, twisting and straining the bond he shared with Anakin with such strength he fell on his knees, gasping for air as his chest clenched violently. The Force howled in agony around him, tossing him around as if he were a blade of grass in the midst of a hurricane of emotions, images and sensations flashing through his mind so fast he couldn't tell if they belonged to him or not.

Fear. Anger. Pain. Regrets. Pain. Pain. Pain. Solitude.

It lasted for what seemed to be an eternity, pulling at Obi-Wan’s intangible energy from all sides and so hard he was sure he was going to break. Then, as suddenly as it started, everything withdrew, every feeling, every sound, every image and he was left breathless and disoriented in the middle of the chaos. For a terrible, gut wrenching second he thought that the steady and familiar thread uniting their soul had been severed, teared apart and his heart stopped beating at the implication.

No.

“Anakin…” He breathed at the same time a strong pair of hands lifted him from the ground and put him back on his feet.

“Are you okay, General ?” Cody’s concerned voice asked from behind his helmet.

“Anakin.” He said again, still shaken to the core by what he just experienced. “Where is Anakin ?”

The clone frowned behind his mask, noticing the Jedi’s blemish face and wide eyes. He was too well trained to ask useless questions, especially as they were right in the middle of the fight and totally exposed, so his brain moved on to the next sensible thing to do now : take cover.

“He was just next to the cliff last time I saw him.” He answered, pulling Obi-Wan by the arm and shielding him with his own body until they were safe behind a large rock. “Do you want me to comm him ?”

“I don't know.” Obi-Wan swallowed, unable to think clearly. “I-”

“General.” Cody put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed lightly, the gesture grounding Obi-Wan a little bit. “What happened ?”

“I can’t feel him anymore.” The Jedi whispered. “I think something happened to him”

Cody stayed silent for a while, letting the sounds of the blaster shots, the explosions and the screams fill the space between them as he calculated a change of plan.

“Alright.” He said eventually, typing something on his commlink. “I’m coming with you.”

Obi-Wan knew that removing two men from their forces, let alone a Jedi, was not a strategic choice at all. But the visceral terror that gnawed at his guts right now prevented him from feeling guilty about it. All that mattered was Anakin.

Reaching the cliff took more time than Obi-Wan had anticipated. They still had to fight their way until there and the whole time the Jedi was projecting his life Force around to try to find Anakin’s signature somewhere, anywhere. But he remained untraceable.

They searched all along the cliff’s edge, screaming for his name in the chaos of the battle, asking everyone on their way. Cody even checked the bodies lying in the mud, aware that Obi-Wan would refuse to even think about that eventually.

“General.” He called after several minutes of vain research. “He could have fallen down the cliff.”

Obi-Wan swallowed and walked to the edge, looking down at the river rushing a dozen of meters below.

“General…” Cody approached carefully. “If he fell… You have to consider the possibility that he didn't-”

“No.” Obi-Wan interrupted him. “He’s alive. He has to be.”

“There’s a lot of rocks.” The clone replied quietly but not unkindly. “Such a fall would severely injure anyone. If they’re lucky.”

“Anakin is not anyone.” Obi-Wan replied stubbornly. “I’m going to find him. You don’t have to come with me.”

Cody shook his head and put his blaster back in the holster strapped around his waist.

“I’m not leaving you alone.”

They find Anakin a mile away down the river, his body laying on a flat rock, face down. Obi-Wan runs to him, panic wrapping around his throat and suffocating him as he notices blood all around him, mixing with the rain.

“Anakin !” He chokes, letting himself fall by his side and wincing when his knees hit the hard ground for the second time today.

Gently, he grabs him by the shoulders to turn him on his back, dreading what he’s about to discover.

Anakin’s face is stained with blood that still drips from his forehead, sticking to his curls and damping the collar of his tunic. He probably hit his nose hard enough to make it bleed too, as well one of his lips and he has small contusions on his cheeks and jaw. He’s pale, so frighteningly pale.

Obi-Wan presses his fingers against his pulse point while Cody kneels on his other side, doing the same thing on his wrist. It takes a few excruciating seconds for them to feel something, a weak fluttering pulse that makes Obi-Wan’s eyes sting with pure relief.

“He’s alive.” He breathes shakily.

“I’m calling for a ship.” Cody says immediately, getting up again to comm one of the pilots.

Obi-Wan quickly checks Anakin’s body for other obvious injuries in the meantime. He doesn’t seem to have any open wounds but he doesn’t dare move him in case he risks making things worse. What if his spine is damaged or he suffers from internal bleeding ?

The only thing he allows himself is to place his hand on his cheek, pushed by the imperial need to feel him, to make sure he’s alive and breathing. His heart sinks when he notices how cold his skin is. Without thinking, he removes his own robes to lay it on Anakin’s body. It’s a useless gesture but he can’t stand the idea of his golden, always warm boy being frozen to the bones.

“It’s okay.” He whispers, gently pushing Anakin’s drenched curls from his still face. “You’re going to be okay. Just stay with me.”

When the ship arrives, Anakin is picked up on a stretcher and taken away to the tiny medical unit it carries. Obi-Wan silently blesses Cody for having the presence of mind to ask for a medic, gaining precious time for Anakin’s life. They don’t have a lot of equipment but they have enough to stabilize him until they’re back to the base.

The doctor asks them to help remove Anakin’s clothes while he puts an oxygen mask on his mouth and nose. He checks his vitals again, not satisfied about the results.

“He's unresponsive.” He says with a frown. “He might be in shock. He’s also hypothermic and injured, so we will have to act according to an order of priority.”

Obi-Wan nods, swallowing around the lump in his throat.

“I’m going to put him on warm fluids to help his body fight the shock and hopefully help him heat up a little bit.” The man explains quietly. “Then I'm going to take a blood sample to see if something's happening inside. If everything is fine, we’ll have to find a way to get his temperature back to normal, or at least, decent.”

“How ?” Obi-Wan asks.

As far as he knows they only have a limited stock of blankets and no heating pads.

“With the most wonderful and efficient source of heat I know.” The doctor answers. “Human’s heat.”

“Oh.”

Obi-Wan blushes slightly without knowing why. His gaze falls back on Anakin, so pale and so cold under his thin cover.

“Um, okay. I can- I can help with that.” He says with his steadier voice. “Just tell me what to do.”

“For now, wait until he’s stable.” The man replies, focused on putting a catheter on the inside of Anakin’s arm. “Then undress and hold him tight.”

Obi-Wan can’t help but blush fully at the blunt, clinical way the doctor states the whole thing. As if it’s a usual life-saving procedure. Maybe it is. Obi-Wan is no doctor after all.

He watches quietly as the man fusses around Anakin, branching him to a little bag of fluids and to a little machine monitoring his heart and respiratory rates as well as his temperature and level of oxygen. When he’s done, he looks over to Obi-Wan and gives him a nod.

“It's your moment.”

“Okay…” Obi-Wan approaches the bed hesitantly.

“I’m giving you some privacy.” The man says, gathering Anakin’s wet clothes to go make them dry somewhere. “I’m coming back in half an hour to check on him. Call me if something goes wrong in the meantime.”

“Understood.” Obi-Wan nods. “Thank you.”

When he's finally alone in the tiny medical room, the unit separated from the main room of the ship by a thin curtain only, he starts peeling off his soaked layers, realizing how cold he felt too now that a part of the adrenaline had worn off.

Anakin is still immobile on the small bed, just as pale as the sheets. Obi-Wan hesitates to keep his underwear but the fabric is as drenched as the rest of his clothes so he decides against it. His modesty is no match against Anakin’s life.

Taking two more blankets on his way, he slips by his side into the bed, shuddering when his cold skin presses against Anakin’s even colder one. After putting the extra blankets mostly on Anakin’s side, he wraps his arms and legs around his still, freezing body and holds him tight as the doctor asked.

At first it’s very unpleasant, Obi-Wan shivering in their shared wet coldness and thinking they were never going to warm up ever again. But after a while, the blankets start to do their job, preventing whatever warmth Obi-Wan is producing from escaping and progressively raising the temperature in the tight confines of the bed.

Later, Obi-Wan feels warm enough to stop shivering, and exhaustion starts numbing his mind and body, making him close his eyes without noticing.

When the doctor comes to check on Anakin, he finds them both asleep, Obi-Wan carefully but tightly wrapped against the younger Jedi in a protective, life-saving embrace.

Even later, when the sun starts to fall on the system, Obi-Wan is awakened by light movements against him. Emerging with difficulty from the deep slumber he fell in, he lifts an eyelid and he’s faced with Anakin's confused face and fluttering eyes.

“What happened ?” He murmurs.

“You fell from the cliff.” Obi-Wan replies in the same tone. “You almost died. But I found you.”

Anakin frowns and manages to pout.

“Didn't fall. Been pushed.” He mumbles.

“You managed to reach the shore.” Obi-Wan says. “Do you remember ?”

Anakin shakes his head.

“I only remember the cold. I was so cold. Never been that cold in my entire life.”

He frowns again then, slightly raising his head to take a look around, then at Obi-Wan, then under the covers.

“Why am I naked ?” He squints. “Why are you naked ?”

Obi-Wan fails pathetically against his own body when he tries not to blush.

“The doctor said you were in hypothermia. Someone had to keep you warm.”

“It was a life or death situation.” He adds for good measure.

“I see.” Anakin smirks, making the blush on Obi-Wan’s face spread to his chest. “Thank you for saving my life, then.”

“You’re welcome.” Obi-Wan mumbles, trying to hide a part of his face in the pillow.

“I’m still a bit cold, though.” Anakin grins. “I could probably still die.”

Obi-Wan rolls his eyes, the heat coming from his face probably enough to keep Anakin warm for the century to come.

“Come here.” He grumbles, opening his arms wider, and Anakin loses no time snuggling against his chest, almost ripping the wires monitoring his health. “Careful, you’re still in a bad state.”

“Yeah, yeah.” The younger Jedi whispers against his neck, closing his eyes again.

Obi-Wan can't help but smile, slipping his fingers in the mass of golden hair curling on his head.

“How are you feeling ?” He asks.

He can feel Anakin smile against his skin, his fingers tightening around his waist. His heart is beating peacefully against his own. Beating, pumping life into his body. Obi-Wan has never heard a more beautiful sound.

“Warm.” Anakin answers.

[awkward-tension-art]

Bacta and Bandages Chp.7 (Rex x Reader)

Chapter 6. Chapter 8.

Grief

CW: Slow burn, Two fools trying to ignore their crushes, Grief, Loss, talk of dead friend, death, crying, emotional break down, talk of unfair treatment of clones, Rex is a SWEETHEART, Reader is gender neutral, no use of (Y/N), reader is a doctor, if I miss a tag LMK!

Tag List (Thank you for liking my writing <3): @arctrooper69 @heavenseed76 @ghostlyembassy

Announcement: Field Surgeon Ferrum of the 107th legion has fallen in battle.

Service to be held in 3 standard rotations on Coruscant, Republic military base

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. All medical personnel in the GAR were connected via networks and communications. It was to keep tabs on the overall health of the army and swap medical advice. You didn’t know every single doctor and medic, but you knew this one. 

Doctor Ferria Ferrum. A fierce, hard working togruta with a bit of a sarcastic streak. You worked with them at your former hospital on Coruscant, before the war. They left to join the army before you. You hadn’t seen them since they left that day, but you’ve exchanged messages if the holo allowed. 

“Doctor?” Kix’s hand was on your shoulder, “Are you alright?”

Oh. right. You opened the holo on your desk in the medical bay. With a nod, you closed the message, “...Yes, I am.” You stood, meeting Kix’s eye, “I’m alright.”

He didn’t seem entirely convinced, but nodded anyway, “If you need a minute to…grieve…”

You took a deep breath to steady your emotions, “No, I’m good to work. If I need to step away, I will.”

The two of you returned to work. There were still many injured from the second battle of Geonosis. Many to the point where The Resolute had to dock at a medical space station. Not to mention Ahsoka’s run-in with a brain-invading worm.

The poor girl has a fever and chills from freezing an entire ship to slow the parasites down. 

It was clear, you couldn’t go to the memorial service. There was too much to do. You’d have to grieve alone this time. 

As you made your rounds, you tried not to think about it. You were at war, losses were expected. You needed to steel your heart and keep going. 

So you did. 

That was, until Ahsoka mentioned something, “Doctor..?” She mumbled, “Are you ok?” The padawan was buried under blankets, and the fever medicine made her drowsy. Her eyes were half closed from sleepiness, “You seem…sad.”

“How do you know I'm sad?” you asked, keeping your voice as calm as you could. Right now, you were replenishing the fluid IV that you gave the togruta.

“The Force.” was her blunt response. 

Damnit.

You frowned as you checked her temperature, “I was just informed a colleague of mine had died in battle,” Your eyes were focused as you prepared medicine to ease her fever, “And there’s too much to do here for me to go to Coruscant for the memorial.”

Ahsoka matched your frown, “You should go.” 

“I have a responsibility here,” You gave her a small, hollow smile, “Besides, I prefer being here. With you, Rex, Anakin and the other soldiers.”

The padawan nodded slowly, shifting to lay on her side, “Everyone is glad you're here…with the 501st.”

For some reason, her words twisted your heart and made tears blur your vision. Maybe the shock finally wore off and the grief hit you. Maybe it was just the fact that the teen was honest and pure in her words. Maybe it was a reassurance that you unknowingly needed about your place among the troopers. 

Either way, you had to turn and wipe away your tears, “Thank you, Ahsoka…” your voice cracked before you cleared your throat, “Get some rest. I’ll be back in a few hours to check on you.”

She nodded groggily before you hurried from the medical bay. You needed to get away from anything medicine related. It reminded you too much of the places where you and Ferria spent time together.

You managed to find an empty storage area. Armor and helmets were stacked neatly on shelves, but you paid it all no mind.

The door was closed and a hand was over your mouth to cry in less than a minute. You leaned against the door, sinking to the floor to weep as quietly as you could. The tears felt hot against your skin as your sadness overwhelmed you, clouding your mind. 

You gave yourself 10 minutes. 10 minutes to cry. 10 minutes to let yourself feel. 

Then you had to get back-

“-Half of the doctors on this station are leaving for this damn service.” 

Through the metal door, you could hear the passing words of several troopers. Despite your state, you listened. 

“The 212th medic is leaving too, it's ridiculous. All because they’re a nat-born.” 

“If that doctor was a clone, no one would bat an eye-”

Their words faded off into nothing as they passed the door and continued down the hall. It hurt, knowing how they left. 

But they were right.

How many clones died on the field only to be forgotten? How many good troopers had perished to be left to rot in the dirt? 

They were right. If Ferria wasn’t a torgruta, if they were a clone, this service wouldn’t be happening on Coruscant. Their body would have been left behind, to remain on some unknown planet. 

 If you fell in battle, you’d be given a memorial. Your body would be collected if possible and you’d be given a proper burial. All because you were nat-born. An outsider among clones. Your status gave you special treatment and power you didn’t mean to have.

It wasn’t fair. You knew that.

But it still hurt to hear. 

At some point you moved away from the door, leaning against the wall. The cold metal felt icy on your skin as you let your tears fall. You stopped weeping, just staring ahead to cry silently. 

You had to return to work. After all, there were probably some troopers who needed bandages changed, or painkillers to sleep as they healed. Kix could handle it, but it was your job. You couldn’t shut down because of Ferria’s death. The clones weren’t allowed to break, so why should you?

Maker, it was hard to move.

Your motivation was shot. All you needed was just…a few minutes to recharge. Process. That's all…

You could hear the steps and mumbles of the soldiers as they passed through the hall. The galaxy was moving on as if nothing happened. In the grand scheme of the war and life, it was true. That was the reality of it all. 

Ferria was a small piece in this war. And for the first time in a while, you asked yourself a single question.

What’s the point of all of this?

“What should we do? A holo-card maybe?” You opened your eyes, hearing the discussion between two more troopers. Seemed everyone on the ship and medical station were talking about the funeral service. 

Ferria was well liked at the hospital. Perhaps they made a lot more friends in the army than you thought. 

The other one didn’t sound entirely interested in the conversation, “Nothing. I’m sure the doc is fine. They probably didn’t even know that field surgeon.”

“But we don’t know that! Why not-”

“Whatever it is you two are doing, move on.” Rex’s voice cut between the troopers like a knife, “Get to your duties.” 

“Yes sir.” 

After a few moments, the door to the storage closet opened. You looked up, coming face-to-face with the captain of the 501st. He had sympathy written all over his face. 

“Hi.” you croaked, “I’m sorry, I know I should get back to the medical bay, I just needed a minute.”

He closed the door and locked it behind him before stepping towards you to sit down, “It's alright. Kix is handling it. Are you ok?”

You nodded, feeling a deep pain in your chest.

“I want the truth.” he deadpanned. 

Slowly, you shook your head, “Not really, no. Ferria was a friend of mine.” The Captain wanted honesty and you didn’t feel the need to lie to him. 

“I’m sorry,” Rex put a hand on your shoulder. He didn’t say more. He didn’t need to. 

“No, I’m sorry. Half the doctors on the medical station are leaving,” you murmured, “So for the next few rotations the troopers need to wait longer for medical care. And I know that’s upsetting them.”

Rex gave you a confused and concerned look. 

“I overheard some of them talking.” You informed the Captain, “So it’s a good thing I’m staying, I suppose.”

The Captain sighed, “If you feel the need to go-.”

“It’s not fair.” You snapped, vision blurring, “No, it's not fair.” Tears streamed down your cheeks again, “Ferria gets a memorial. A whole funeral, but what about the soldiers they died with? What about the clones!?” You figured out the agony that's settled in your chest.

It was guilt.

Guilt for mourning so deeply. Guilt for Ferria’s special treatment. Guilt for knowing when you died, you’d have the same respectful ceremony while the clones would be forgotten. 

“I mean, here I am, crying like a child after losing one person” You hissed, anger and frustration burning you as much as the grief did, “Meanwhile, how many brothers did you lose on Geonosis!? How many of those good men will get the same respect? A funeral? A memorial service?” 

The 501st captain remained silent, worry clear in his brown eyes as you ranted.

“It's not fair to you or anyone else for me to fall apart. I can’t-!” Your emotional rambling was stopped abruptly by Rex pulling you into a tight hug. You were taken off guard for a second before wrapping your arms around him to return the embrace. 

“Don’t use your energy crying over the memorials and funerals we won't get,” Rex murmured, “Use your energy to remember those of us who fall in battle. Remember their names. Who they were.” 

Your crying started up again, and you buried your face into the plastoid of his shoulder. He was warm. Warm and protective. You felt safe enough to break apart in his arms.

“It’s alright to grieve for your comrade, just as I grieve for my brothers.” His tone was patient and kind as he whispered to you, “Don’t shove away your feelings for our benefit. It’s alright to feel this way, just like you always tell us when we’re overwhelmed, hurt or upset.” 

Of course he’d use your own words on you. On several occasions he’d witness you calm a trooper down from a panic attack. Or wipe their tears as they cried from a nightmare or loss. You’d always say the same thing as you comforted them.

It’s alright to feel this way.

Rex let you cry out your grief. You shook and sobbed as he ran his hands up and down your back. 

The sting of loss was a painful one. He knew that all too well. But he kept his head held high, in order to be strong for the rest of his brothers.

You tried to do the same.

He held you tightly, keeping you close for all long as you needed. Luckily, he locked the door so no one could intrude on such a vulnerable moment. 

Minutes later you took a calming breath, pulling away to wipe away your tears. After a second you used your sleeve to dry the wet spot on his armor, “Sorry, I cried on your armor.”

Rex snorted, “It’s fine. There's been worse on this plastoid.”

You let out a soft laugh, looking at him. Perhaps it was how tired your brain was, but you broke into exhausted giggles. He did as well, though, most likely faking it to make you feel better. His arms were still loosely around you, not quite realizing how nice it made you feel. 

“Thank you,” you croaked, regretfully pulling away. Rex stood, offering you a hand, which you took.

He gave you a soft and understanding look, “Are you going to be alright?” He had a hand on your upper arm, giving a comforting squeeze. 

With a nod, you rubbed the back of your neck, “I will be. I just…needed a few minutes.” You took a deep breath, “I’m good now. Again, thank you Rex.”

His eyes were on you, but after a second he nodded, “Alright…But if you need anything, find me.” 

Your smile was small and hollow, “You as well, for anything, ok?” You walked to the door and opened it. The hallway was bright compared to the dark storage room you had found shelter in, giving you pause to let your eyes adjust. With another sigh, you stepped out and made your way back to the medical bay. 

As soon as you returned, you were met with quiet. Injured, recovering clones were asleep. Ahsoka was out cold from both the fever and the medicine. Kix was stocking up one of the cabinets, and he gave you a nod in greeting when you arrived.

Once you returned to your desk, you were greeted with a folded piece of flimsi. On it were the written words of ‘Sorry for Your Loss.’

You took the card in your hands and opened in. inside were the signed names of so many soldiers. Among them were the names of General Skywalker and Admiral Yularen.

Jesse, Kix, Oddball, Fisher, Jamie, Reign, Redeye, Hardcase, Echo, Fives, and countless more…

Your fingers traced over the written letters, a smile on your lips. You read them all, feeling your heart become lighter with each name. 

“Thank you, Kix.” You looked up at him, “Thank you.”

He smirked, not looking away from the bottles in his hands before putting them away, “You can thank the Captain. It was his idea, he got the announcement too and remembered you knew Dr.Ferrum.”

You looked back at the card, thumb ghosting over one more name, written neatly near the center. 

Rex.

[tekumaniac311]

Open Arms: Mission part 1

The Critters ship was en route to the dead planet where the Bloodline factory was, inside Dogday and Catnap was speaking to Drago via hologram, detailing what was going on.

"Our ship will rendezvous in on hour outside the planet's atmosphere, from there we'll head down their via our cycles. We go in, find Dogbite and get the hell out." Dogday explained to Drago. Just then, FixFox popped into the hologram next to Drago "I got something for a bonus." Dogday looked at her with a raised brow "It's a rescue mission, Fox."

"I know, I know." FixFox said "But Poppy told us that we can also blow up this factory, it can put a major dent in the Cult's plan. I may have just the thing." FixFox left the hologram before returning with a strange device "It's a small but powerful bomb, we attach a few of these at key points around the factory and bang!"

Dogday nodded "Okay, but no one is blowing anything up til we are all out safe with Dogbite. Clear?" Drago and FixFox nodded "Captain, we're not far from the dead planet!" Picky called out. "We'll see you there." Dogday said to Drago as he ended the call.

"Hey, Captain. You think the Seraphim will be there?" Hoppy asked "I don't know, but frankly I don't really care. I just need to rescue my brother, not fight." Dogday explained. Soon after, both ships arrived outside the orbit of the dead planet, each team member donned their helmets and got on their cycles ready to fly down.

"Remember the plan, we go in, keep the Bloodlines busy, set the bombs while I find my brother, once i've got him we get away as far as possible, then FixFox will hit the detonator." Everyone all responded with "Right!"

"Let's do this. Hang on, little brother..." Dogday said as he guided the cycles down to the planets surface. They landed and looked at the distant factory. "Can I just stay in the ship..?" Lean Lemur asked, not wanting to go in. "It's all hands on deck, honey. Just stick with me, okay?" Mama Mammoth told him. "Let's do this!" Hoppy said with confidence "We got this, Dogbite's gonna be okay." Leopardaisy added.

With that the 15 Riders headed off towards the factory, but as they did they heard a cycle land behind them, turning they saw Z as he fabricated a rifle via his wrist. "Z?" Dogday asked. "Yeah, I heard what's going down via Poppy. I'll help you save that punk." Z spoke

That last word triggered something in Dogday "Hey! He's my brother, it's my fault he's been misguided and acting like this." Z just shook his head "I tried to stop him, captain. But he wouldn't f###in listen and got himself into this mess." Dogday got even more furious "He has just been mislead, Z! And I'm going to help him back on the right path!"

Before the two could argue, Catnap walked in between the two "Let's not act like children, alright?" Dogday and Z then looked at eachother "Sorry, I.." They both said in unison "Come on, let's go save Dogbite." Prettybird spoke. They headed off and stealthily approached the outside perimeter of the factory.

Picky using some binoculars looked out and saw a ship taking off, FixFox recognized the ship "That's the Seraphim's personal ship.." Berserkerine crossed his arms, disappointed "Man, I was gonna crack her head for what she did to Dogbite." Dogday instead just shook his head. "With Seraphim gone our mission will be a lot easier, let's move in and place the explosives. Z, Drago and Catnap your with me. Crafty you and Bobby go with Berserkerine and FixFox. Bubba your with Lemur and Mama. Picky and Hoppy your both with Leopardaisy, let's move out!"

The groups head in and spread out as they began to plant FixFox's bombs in key points, electricity generators, the labs, the cloning facility and other vital places to the factory, all seemed well as they stayed hidden but meanwhile as Prettybird and Kickin were planting some themselves, a cultist spotted them "What the?! SPACE RIDERS!!" Rushing, the cultist hit the alarm which blared across the factory.

"Alright, let's have some fun" Hoppy said in battle stance." Dogday alerted everybody "Alright, everyone! The cult's spotted us, they'll be throwing everything they got at us, we'll find Dogbite as quickly as we can!" Soon everyone prepared to attack the cultists, kicking each of their tails to kingdom come.

Meanwhile in one of the control rooms, the cult priest who was left in command of the factory was informed of the intruders and the damage they were causing "Release..release the Bloodlines, all of them!" He ordered "But..their not ready!" But the priest shook his head "Release them all, we must protect the factory."

Gulping, the cult pushed a button and a second siren blared as around the base, enclosures of both finished and unfinished Bloodline monsters.

"Folks, looks like we woke the neighbors." Leopardaisy said "Plan, cap?" Kickin asked "We hit them hard, me, Catnap, Drago and Z will find Dogbite while you keep these freaks busy."

Everyone responded with a "Right!" As the Bloodline monsters approached, it'll be difficult of course, but to save one of their one, they will take the risk.

TO BE CONTINUED

Space Riders AU belong to @onyxonline

[officeofcommanderfox]

7. You're not as bad as everyone saids you are. (Reader saying to Fox)

22. If you're still wondering who left flowers at your desk I think I'm ready to put your mind at ease. (Reader surprising Fox with flowers.)

I’m excited to see how you would maneuver these into the story.

Thank you so so much for your ask @darkangel4121 and please accept my (@firstofficerwiggles) apology for the delay in the response. Life has been rather crazy for me. Big props to my co-author @imabeautifulbutterfly for keeping the ship running. But now without further ado, we give you...

The Commander & The Civvie, Chapter 6

Previous Chapter | Fic Main

Pairing: Commander Fox x female reader

Rating: T

Warnings: flirting, suggestive talk

Prompts: 7. You're not as bad as everyone says you are. (Reader saying to Fox)

22. If you're still wondering who left flowers at your desk I think I'm ready to put your mind at ease. (Reader surprising Fox with flowers.)

“This is all a big mistake! You dumb clones don’t know who I am, and when you find out, you’ll regret it!” A large man in a cheap suit was making quite the ruckus as Commander Fox marched him down the corridor.

“Get in there and keep your mouth shut if you know what’s good for you,” Fox snapped as he shoved the criminal into the holding cell. His armor was sporting new blaster marks courtesy of his latest arrest.

“Don’t act so high and mighty, clone boy, my lawyer will have me outta here before breakfast,” the sleazy gangster sneered in Fox’s direction. 

“Another Black Sun lowlife, I presume?” Thorn inquired.

“Yes, and this one is charged with assaulting a Marshall Commander of the Grand Army of the Republic, so he will be going away for quite some time,” Fox announced in a voice loud enough to carry back to the man in question.

A string of rather colorful swearing answered in response.

Fox and his men had been rounding up Black Sun members and their known associates for a couple weeks now. He was determined to find the men responsible for making threats on your life. Unfortunately the slimy underworld dirtbags seemed to have a team of slimy underhanded lawyers at their disposal such that Fox felt lucky if he could get them past arraignment. But charges against a GAR officer were now being taken more seriously thanks to a new bill introduced by Senator Amidala. It often meant baiting these criminals into taking a cheap shot at him, but he felt it was worth it when it meant charges that wouldn’t be easily dismissed. 

As your boss made his way back into your shared office space, you couldn’t hold back a sound of worry,

“Oh no! More blaster scarring? I wish you’d stop making yourself a target, Commander.”

“It’s just a scratch, nothing I can’t fix,” he said with a shrug, although secretly he felt a pleasing warmth in his stomach when you fussed over him. 

You were already hurrying over to him with a fresh cup of caf and a med kit. 

Fox chuckled, “No med kit needed, Starlight, this new armor is reinforced.” 

He took off his helmet and took a deep sip of the caf, humming appreciatively as the warm liquid soothed his throat. When he looked back at you, there was a worried frown on your face and you were shuffling from foot to foot. Setting down his cup with a soft sigh, Fox held out his arms and rotated in a slow spin in front of you.

“Go ahead and look, Starlight, no serious damage, I promise you,” he stated.

You carefully inspected him, eyes darting to examine all the sensitive spots between his armor plating. There was a questionable spot on his side, but upon closer inspection. you realized it was just a loose thread from his black under armor shirt. As you heard Fox clear his throat you looked back up at him, meeting his eyes and realized just how close you were standing to him. You could smell his aftershave mixed with the scent of caf. 

“Do I need to take off my armor or maybe strip down for further inspection?” Fox asked, raising an eyebrow and smirking at you, “Tell me, Starlight, is that your plan? To finally see more of me.”

The thought of Fox stripping off his armor in front of you gave you a jolt and you suddenly felt overly warm. You surprised yourself by how much you did want to see him like that, to know exactly how well-built your commander really was. Your surprise must have shown on your face because Fox stepped a bit closer, giving you a sly little smile,

“You can ask if that’s what you want, I’m not shy,” he teased.

“I- I- n-no, I don’t need that, you look great- I mean you look uninjured,” you babbled at him.

Fox laughed as he stepped away and went back to his caf, “Thanks for checking me out.”

“I wasn’t- it wasn’t like that,” you blurt out, face burning with embarrassment

“Whatever you need to tell yourself, Starlight,” he quipped before settling in at his desk.

You were making your way home still thinking about the Commander and his teasing. He had kept it up most of the day, smirking at you across the office and saying flirtatious little things to get a reaction from you, which he managed to do each time. It made you feel good, yet surprised, 

When did I start wanting him to flirt with me? 

This thought was still running through your head as you arrived at your building. There was a beautiful flower and gift shop on the ground floor, and their colorful display window caught your eye. 

“Show someone you care!” a large banner declared as it hung above several beautiful arrangements. There was one in particular, full of red and white blooms in a silver cup, that you were drawn to.

“You have a unique eye.” 

The voice pulled you from your musings, when you saw the florist, a middle aged man with a warm smile, standing at the entrance. 

“I'm sorry?”

“The arrangements. I arranged these for the boys in red. But it's not selling as well as I’d hoped.” 

“The boys in red?” 

“The Coruscant Guard. I was hoping people would purchase it and send it as a thank you for all the work those clones do. Plus I donate the profits to Dex's diner, where a clone can eat for free.” 

The smile on your lips expanded as you listened to his promotion, “That's such a brilliant idea. I work with them and I can tell you, most people don’t realize how hard and how much they work for all of us.” 

“That they do, but somehow, I don't think you were looking at the flowers with every clone in mind. You had someone specific running through your head, didn't you?”

Blood rushed to your face, as he spoke. You prayed he couldn't tell. 

“Um… yes.” You cleared your throat being as professional as you could, “The Marshall Commander personally saved me from an incident so I was thinking of getting him some flowers. Well maybe not just him.” 

“Why don't you come in and we can arrange something special for your savior,” he teased with a smile. 

Two hours later as you sat on your couch in your pjs, you couldn't help but replay the order you submitted to the helpful florist. Maybe it was a mistake to send the bouquet, after all you did send a rather large bouquet to the Commander… well, your Commander, as the florist kept insisting. You wondered if the card was enough or maybe it was too much. Was it all too much? 

Fox stood on the main floor of the Senate building with all his officers and prisoners, the air was filled with tension and anxiousness. Everyone was on edge, as they waited for news from the squad sent to investigate Fox’s office. 

“What's going on?” you asked as you finally made your way through the crowd, once you had been redirected from the Guard building entrance. 

“There you are!” Fox exclaimed in relief. 

“Commander, what's going on?”

He held up his finger as he commed Thorn, once he informed Thorn you were safe, he turned his attention back to you. 

“We're dealing with a possible incendiary device.” 

“Oh my gods.” Your hand moved to cover your mouth, as the shock from what Fox said caused you to open wide. “What happened? Did the Black Sun send a threat? Was it a mailed package? Or did someone leave a suspicious looking bag?”

“No. They're too clever for that. They sent flowers.” Fox reported, making the innocent word sound sinister.

“Eep...” a little yip left your lips as you blinked your eyes a few times trying to register what he just said. “Did you say flowers?”

“Hold on,” Fox held up his hand, as Thorn came from the joint corridor between the Guard building and the Senate building, carrying a rather large bouquet of flowers. As you suspected it was the very same bouquet you had sent to the Commander. 

You swallowed slowly, hoping no one was looking at you and noticing the look of horror on your face as it dawned on you that you were the reason for the evacuation. If the ground would open up and swallow you whole in this moment, that would just be fantastic. Or a heart attack, better yet, a heart attack would be better. They could just bury you with the flowers and no one would be wiser.

Come on, heart. Just start attacking.

“All clear, Commander. There were no incendiary devices, it was just–,” Thorn snorted as his mouth shifted fighting the laughter, “Flowers. Ahem! For you.” He passed Fox the bouquet of flowers and the card. 

Fox felt his face flush beet red, he didn’t know what joker thought this would be a hilarious prank, but the last thing he needed was 500 pairs of eyes watching him and asking a bunch of questions. He straightened up, turned his head and used his Commander voice. “All right. You heard the man. All clear. What are you waiting for?” He ordered his men back upstairs, and led by example, by moving towards the first lift available. It had nothing whatsoever to do with the fact he needed to be alone or avoid the curious glances directed toward him and his flowers. 

As everyone began heading towards the elevators, you remained grounded in your spot, blinking back the tears and shock that you were single-handedly responsible for this debacle, not to mention, the embarrassment of the man you admired in front of his men and what felt like at least half the senate. You closed your eyes praying for sweet death. 

“It's all good, mesh'la.” Thorn chuckled, “I think this is yours.” He passed you the invoice. Your eyes drifted to the piece of flimsi, your eyes focusing on that one spot, the one part that shone as bright as the sun, your name, “It was stuck to the bottom of the bouquet. Don't worry I won't say anything.” Thorn continued to chuckle as he left you standing there really hoping you’d die of embarrassment now.

Fox kept the bouquet on his desk, turning the card in his hand over and over, wondering who in the haran would have sent him flowers.

At first, he imagined it could’ve been Senator Amidala, a sort of, keep-up-the-good-work type of encouragement, or maybe he thought this was just a treat from her, but she had no idea what he was referring to. Then he considered it might have been one of his clone brethren, a vain attempt to try and humiliate him, but they all denied it. Wolffe especially seemed offended at such a childish prank, and Cody wasn't going to let him live it down any time soon. Rex, well he couldn’t stop laughing for a good five minutes.

He had spent a whole day on this and nothing. Not one clue. The card itself held a rather cryptic, albeit bemusing, message. There was no name of the flower shop either on the card nor the flowers themselves, and there had been no record of the delivery, which had led to his original assumption that these flowers were ill-intended. 

“Ahem! Commander” your voice was barely above a whisper, so it was no wonder that Fox didn't react right away. “Commander.” Your voice rang through a little louder this time.

Fox shifted his eyes away from the flowers and focused on you, 

“Oh, Starlight. Sorry. This day has been weird, and my mind is all over the place.” 

He cleared his throat and put the card down, giving you his undivided attention, “Anyway, what can I do for you?” 

You stepped in, closing the door behind you, as you began fidgeting with the hem of your top, “Um, I need to tell you something.”

“Okay.”

You took in a deep breath, closing your eyes briefly wondering if telling him the truth was the right thing to do. Obviously, it was. After the mess you caused this morning, not to mention his own embarrassment, he had a right… no, he deserved to know the truth. 

“Commander, if you're still wondering who left flowers at your desk, I think I'm ready to put your mind at ease.” 

“Sorry, ready to put my mind at ease?”

You nodded, trying to avoid looking into his warm, tender eyes, “Please don't be upset. But it was me.” 

Fox's eyes widened, “You?” 

“You're not as bad as everyone says you are.” 

His eyes went from his Starlight to the card he received with the flowers. There was the message just as she had quoted, word for word. 

A million questions ran through his mind, and yet rather than asking a thing, he started laughing. He laughed so hard tears came to his eyes and his cheeks ached. It was the most enthusiastic laugh you’d heard in a long time, and it was certainly the happiest you’d ever seen your Commander. He held his forehead as his elbow rested on the desk while he shook his head. 

“Starlight, only you could cause an incident on such a colossal scale.”

“I'm sorry. I never imagined–,” 

“Did you mean it?” He cut you off. 

“Sorry?” 

“Did you mean what you wrote?” 

“Every word.” 

He nodded as he stood walking over to you, gently cupping your cheek, “You… you baffle me.” He gently stroked your cheek, the shock and surprise of his actions written all over your face, which only made him smile brighter, “Starlight. Have dinner with me.”

Send Commander Fox an ask and continue the story!

Tag list 1: @boomtowngirl @becks-things @tailorvizsla @catsnkooks @bitchin-beskar

@acourtofsnakes @grogusmum   @buzzybeebee   @deannie13 @ladykatakuri @noodlesfics   @the-good-shittt @everythingyouwanted @jewfro24 @vaderthepotater @pinkiemme @laichka @myeternalsin @kazthedestroyer @writeforfandoms @trekkingaroundasgard @beskarmermaid @flightlessangelwings @heyitsaloy @pickleprickle @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @cloneloverrrrr @deewithani @pro-fangirls-unsocial-life @atlas-likes-writing @mysticalgalaxysalad @tazmbc1

[ireadwithmyears]

Looking Out for You: Part 3

Pairing: Commander Fox/fem reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 | Visually impaired reader masterlist

Tagging: @tazmbc1

Word count: 4.7 K

Tags/warnings: visually impaired reader, Angst, confrontation, disability based discrimination/ableism, mild hurt/comfort, misunderstandings, Fox (and reader for that matter actually) are both bad at feelings

Summary: When things start showing signs of getting confrontational when you’re just trying to get a ride home from work, Fox, as is seeming to become routine, saves the day. Now if only you could save yourself from falling even harder for the man who you’re certain, without even having to ask, does not feel the same way about you, things would be just perfect.

Authors note: Surprised I got this up before the new year? Yeah, me too. Planning to have the final installment of this up sometime in January, though with me, you really never know what’s going to happen until it does 🤣 I’m not good at scheduling when it comes to writing. Things are only going to happen when they’re ready to. But without further ado, I hope you enjoy this one, and I’m wishing everyone a happy new year🎊

The third time it happens, Fox is imbued with a vengeful, murderous rage.

Is that an exaggeration? Only slightly. But honestly, it doesn’t take much to set him off these days, and this, he thinks—striding through the twists and turns of the Senate Building’s hallways with tightly clenched fists and a contemptuous glare on his face that he hadn’t even bothered to conceal with his helmet before storming out of his office—has certainly done it, no question

*

It had all started a couple of weeks ago, a few mornings after you and Fox had gone on your breakfast date. No—he adamantly refuses to call it a date. But regardless, after that, several events had occurred in quick and notable succession.

The first, the morning after you had returned to the Senate Building after you had been given a day off in compensation for your working overtime the night prior, you arrived to find a new and fully operational orientation and mobility droid, photoreceptors blinking and waiting for you outside.

Fox, after doing some research, found that they were a very useful and highly sought-after navigational tool for the blind in the workplace, assisting with guidance, orientation through different spaces, and generally aiding by describing visual markers, signage, inaccessibly formatted documents and other things you might encounter.

He had come to find, sifting through Senate-issued requisition forms, that you had been approved to obtain one, fully covered, weeks ago. He made some calls, pulled some strings, and with some degree of satisfaction boosted you to the top of the waitlist and made sure that the droid had been fully set up and functional by the time you returned to work.

Two days later, the first box of baked goods mysteriously appeared outside his office door.

Fox, ever the skeptic, had been wary and had even gone so far as to take the first box of deliciously powdered donuts to one of his medics for screening just to make sure it wasn’t some Separatist trick filled with poison. 

That was proven to not be the case, and his brothers, laughing at him for being so paranoid, had swiped the remaining donuts, converging around the box like a swarming hive of bees eager to taste the first drops of a flower's nectar, eating whatever they could reach.

Fox had glared at them and pretended to be annoyed at his loss, but then the food kept coming. 

Baked goods were sent down to HQ or his office anonymously every couple of days, and if he had been suspicious before—considering he had only just spoken to you about how little exposure clones actually had to food—exiting his office to find your visual interpreting assistant droid, Via, resolutely marching down the hallway with a tin of Coruscant Guard-red frosted cupcakes held in her metallic arms with the logo of the small coffee shop he had taken you to just over a week ago made the pieces come together with a satisfying click in his mind.

“Via,” he had called out, voice colored with fresh surprise and bafflement. “What are you doing?”

“I am delivering a parcel on behalf of my mistress,” she had stated with that tone Fox privately thought droids always used when they believed a human was asking a stupid and redundant question. “As you are the benefactor, I shall relieve myself of it and hand it directly to you.”

He had taken it, utterly lost for words and filled with a mix of confusion and strange, totally foreign delight knowing that you had been the one delivering these gifts.

It was thoughtful, he had mused. Kind. And he really should insist that you put an end to it, because it was unnecessary. But, stomach growling as he looked down at the clear-plastic topped box and turned back to his office to set it down, he found that he wasn’t in too much of a hurry to do so.

*

Come on, Via, hurry up.

The singular thought chases around in circles in your head, anxiety increasing with every tap of your foot against the pavement-covered ground. 

As a rule, and on the recommendation of a certain clone commander, you weren’t in the habit of waiting outside the Senate Building on your own anymore, which is why the droid had shown up at precisely the right time. Rumors were abound that the Senate abductions were still occurring, and even though the Guard was closing in on a specific lead, the suspect was still at large. The situation was made worse with the sun beginning to set earlier, leaving you in almost complete darkness by the time you started making your way home most nights.

But then, things like this would happen, and it made you all the more grateful for the droid’s unexpected but welcome company at the end of the day.

You had explained on her first night waiting with you to catch your ride home from work that sometimes situations like this would arise. 

“And how am I to assist if things were to, as you say, ‘get ugly’?” she had asked, photoreceptors blinking as she looked at you.

“Nothing you can do, I think,” you had shrugged, and when that response had only elicited the mechanical equivalent of a dissatisfied sound from the droid, you had conceded. “I suppose you could get the nearest member of the Coruscant Guard to intercede,” you said, thoughtfully biting your lip. “An uncooperative driver might be more inclined to listen if it’s coming from one of them, though I would prefer to try and handle it on my own first. After a moment’s pause and almost as an afterthought, you had added, “Preferably, get Commander Fox.”

You couldn’t explain why, other than you just trusted him above all others to make sure that if you were ever in a tight spot like this, you got out of it without trouble.

“Excellent,” Via had chirped, straightening with a now satisfied air. “Then that is what I shall do. Though let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

Well, a few days later, it did. You found yourself frantically depending on the droid that had, out of nowhere, arrived outside Senator Organa’s office, clearly denoted as being meant specifically for you.

She had her uses, you had to admit. Outside of the usual—getting you to where you needed to go inside the often tricky-to-navigate Senate Building—she could also run errands for you, and that, you had found, was very useful—even if it was for a more personal nature than had originally been intended.

Via had, with the help of your descriptions and admittedly blurred memory from your sleepless night, helped you locate the coffee shop Fox had taken you to, and if outside of work hours, you had required her assistance to help read the menu and place large orders of baked goods to be shipped down to his office or Coruscant Guard HQ…well, no one had said anything against it, and it made you happy knowing that Fox and hopefully some of his brothers would be able to eat food that they would also be able to enjoy, an apparent luxury that they had never been afforded, to your disgust, by their seemingly cutthroat creators.

You had also taken advantage of her translating abilities, which became especially helpful during Senate meetings and also when you had asked her what the kriff “cyar’ika” meant. Your ears turned pink every time you thought about it, and your lips couldn’t resist curling upward into a small, endeared smile whenever the commander came to mind after that.

At this moment though, you certainly weren’t endeared. 

“Who are you to tell me my rights as a driver?” 

The furious shout rings through the quiet parking lot and you swallow, heart picking up in speed as you reach down to run your fingers through Mandalore’s soft fur at the top of her head. She nuzzles into your hand, well practiced in your number-one technique to self-soothe and ground yourself by now. You close your eyes, focusing on the rhythm of your pets, the way her fur feels beneath your fingertips, and find that for once, it’s not helping.

Especially not when the driver—apparently sparked into a rage at your audacity in telling him that it was against planetary law to deny service to beings purely because they were accompanied by a service animal—opens the drive’rs seat door, the click of his seat belt unbuckling unmistakable and ringing in your ears as he gets out of his speeder.

Oh, boy, you think, tentatively taking a step back as he steps into your field of vision on the sidewalk. This has never happened to you before.

“Look,” you manage to get out through a panicked swallow, the rhythm of your hand smoothing against Mandalore’s head too fast, too uneven. “I am simply stating that there are laws in place. If I were to take this to court—”

“You’d what, take away my license?” He’s menacing as he takes another step forward, and you physically recoil at the smell of stale caf that you catch on his breath as he invades your space. “I bet you think you’re untouchable because you kiss Organa’s ass, don’t you, sweetheart?” 

He reaches out, you think maybe to grab the badge that denotes your name and position within the Senate, but you’re stepping, no, stumbling backward, Mandalore jumping to her feet and shoving her way in front of you as her ears perk upward in consternation, intuitively sensing your growing unease.

She’s trained to be well-behaved, to remain calm and unaffected in even the most chaotic situations, yet right now she senses a clear threat, and you don’t scold her for acting on it. Hell, your hands are shaking so hard that you can barely keep a grip on her leash, let alone reach for her harness.

And then the double doors of the Senate Building come swishing open behind you and a voice—steady, sure, and with the cutting edge of a deadly knife—fills you with such a sharp, distinct sense of relief that it nearly brings you to your knees. 

*

“Do we have a problem here?”

It’s strange and distinctly unsettling for Fox to catch a glimpse of Mandalore giving voice to his internal rage with her expression alone. But he realizes as he steps out from the shadows that he’s only ever seen her happy and calm, a far cry from the tense, highly alert, and looking like she’s about to pounce canine that stands in front of you right now.

He understands though. He understands her all too well. If Via’s report on the rapidly escalating situation she had briefed him on as they speed walked hadn’t been enough, than this—hearing the tail end of the confrontation and seeing that the driver had looked to be about to lunge for you—well, sufficed  to say his blood is boiling, and his heart is beating loudly in his ears.

Fox takes a breath, flexes his fingers, and wills himself to calm down before he speaks again. When he calls your name, it’s still gruff, but softer, wanting only gentle words to be directed your way. He’s relieved to see that despite your already tense shoulders and your shaking hand clutching at Mandalore’s leash, you don’t flinch when he addresses you—a small but resounding victory in his mind.

“Stay right there,” Fox murmurs, his voice steady, coaxing, and soft, making it all the more  obvious when he directs it away from you. When he speaks to the man that still looms menacingly over you, his words are anything but soft.

“You,” Fox barks, pleased to watch the man cringe at the hint of a snarl in his voice. “You’re going to take five large steps away from her right now.”

Before the driver can get any foolhardy ideas of turning tail and diving back into his speeder, Fox allows his hand to drift to his hip, though he’s not reaching to draw. His fingers tap against the holster, not even having to lift it or look down as they adeptly prime the weapon to stun.

There is an audible swallow before the man slowly complies, taking the required amount of steps away from you. Fox nods, satisfied as he clears the distance, immediately putting himself between you and the driver, now allowing the man to know what it feels like to have someone much bigger looming menacingly above him as he glares.

“Now,” his next words are quiet, calm…deadly, “you’re going to get back into your speeder, and you’re going to do exactly as your job has directed you and bring this lady, accompanied by her service dog, to her place of residence.”

He senses the objection coming, and he growls lowly, reaching to grasp at the man’s collar, giving a small tug to enunciate his next words when he speaks them.

“And perhaps,” he says, his words biting in the chilled air, “if you do your task satisfactorily, I will consider having the suspension I’m going to place on your license as soon as you’ve dropped her off reinstated after a week instead of a month as I had originally intended.”

“A month?” the man practically squeaks. “That’s preposterous—”

“And did you really think she was joking about the 5,000-credit fine for service animal access denial?” Fox asks, cutting him off. “I’m sure I could pull some strings and still work that in on top of the suspension if you’d like.”

“Technically, the fine could be doubled to 10,000,” Via pipes up, her mechanical footsteps coming to a stop as she stands beside Fox. “I have recorded evidence that you attempted to physically engage with my mistress without her expressed consent.”

Fox has to restrain the impulse to give the droid a full-out grin as the driver, twitchy and squirming as he already is, falls silent, biting the inside of his cheek before letting out a breath and mutely nodding his head, and as Fox releases the grip he has on his collar, he scurries back into his speeder, opening the back passenger door with a remote as he does.

Is he supposed to use his rank as a Marshal Commander of the Coruscant guard to deliver personal vendettas like this? No, but he’s certainly already exploited his position to do much more ambiguous and morally questionable things, and one lone speeder driver attempting to rat him out for this one will, in all likelihood, fall on deaf ears. So, weighing the odds, he’s satisfied and feeling just pissed off and petty enough that he’s willing to take the risk.

“Fox,” your voice escapes you in a breath as you move forward, catching his arm and looking up at him with wide eyes.

“It’s all sorted,” Fox says, trying to sound reassuring as he places a hand lightly over yours. “He’ll get you home with no trouble.”

“But, I…” despite your inability to articulate, he sees it. A single glance you throw towards the speeder displays the anxiety and fear still very real and present within your eyes, and Fox understands, the pieces clicking together in his mind like a puzzle.

Fox can tell just by watching the man through his window—fumbling with his keys and sending nervous glances over his shoulder, as if he’s concerned that Fox might change his mind and instead demand him to surrender his license on the spot—that he’s eliminated the threat. What Fox hasn’t done though, and what he should be wholly focussed on right now, is eliminating your fear.

“You don’t feel safe with him,” he states, watching as you nod your head.

“No,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t.”

Of course, you don’t. Fox internally kicks himself. Why would you even under normal circumstances feel safe in a speeder with a man you’ve never met before, let alone one who’s angered and personally confronted and threatened you within the span of several minutes. And that’s only what Fox had witnessed.

Right, he thinks. Time to fix that. 

Fox gives the hand that’s still curled around his bicep a small squeeze, feeling how unwilling your fingers seem to be to let go, and as he looks up, watching the way you worry your bottom lip between your teeth, an idea sparks.

“Bet you thought you were going to drive away from here and get rid of me,” Fox mutters darkly, startling the driver as he ducks inside the back of the speeder, shifting to the other side of the seat. “Not a chance.”

“Come on, Cyar’ika,” he calls to you, voice warm as he invitingly pats the available row of seats at his side. “Let’s get the two of you home.”

*

“Mandy.”

Your voice is a soft, quiet call within the silence, and even the sound of it makes you startle slightly and flinch, eyes uncertainly flicking towards the front of the speeder. You desire to make yourself small and inconsequential, as inconspicuous to the unwilling and already annoyed driver as you possibly can.

Angry people are unpredictable, and you have no desire to be in his targeting range. But you also, despite the fact that there is a fully trained and armed clone commander sitting at your side, need comfort. You need the reassurance that you’re not alone and that you’re safe, and sometimes only your guide dog can do that, making the nights feel less dark and the paths you wander never lonely because she’s there leading you through them and standing at your side, as constant as the air that you’re breathing.

When her head pops up from where she’s been lying down at your feet, eyes shining through the evening’s encroaching darkness, you smile, though it’s strained, and reach down to stroke one of her long, soft ears. 

“Hey, girl,” you whisper, leaning forward to bump your forehead against hers. The proximity is familiar, the feeling of her fur imprinted on your memory like the back of your own hand. “You’re so good.”

“You call her Mandy?” Fox asks, his voice low and amused at your side as he watches you.

“Sometimes,” you say, straightening as you continue to pet her fondly. “It’s one of her many nicknames.”

There’s a beat of silence where neither of you speak, looking at each other as the traffic blurs by outside the windows. 

“Do you have any?” you ask, suddenly seizing on the opportunity for conversation, craving any kind of distraction from this mess. “Nicknames, I mean.”

“Not really,” he responds, shaking his head before pausing and glancing down, his cheeks warming with a slightly embarrassed heat. “Well, sometimes my brothers call me ‘Fox’ika,’ just to piss me off.”

“What does it mean?” you ask, privately suspecting that it’s another term in Mando’a, but not wanting to reveal to him that you knew of his prior slip up.

Right now, what he had called you can exist in your mind, and you can smile and blush about it all you want. But if you said anything, if you let him know that he had given voice to the feelings you were becoming more and more aware were stirring within you for the commander, it would become real, and with reality comes the knowledge that it was probably nothing more than accidental.

You’re not ready to let that go, not just yet. The fantasy that he could think of you in that way, that he could want you in that way is just too good, too enchanting—enough to give you butterflies every time you think of that one, simple term of endearment that means everything to you but probably means absolutely nothing to him—to let go of just yet. So you don’t.

“Adding ‘-ika’ to a word makes it more diminutive,” Fox explains, oblivious to your inner mess of conflicting thoughts and feelings. “Little. It would be like calling me ‘Little Fox,’ you know?”

“That is kind of cute,” you can’t help but admit, your smile cheeky as you look up at him.

You’re imagining this tall, well-built, and highly competent clone commander as nothing more than an adorable, little fox looking up at you with wide eyes, and you can’t help but grin.

“Oh, please,” Fox groans, placing a hand on his heart. “Your betrayal has wounded me grievously.”

His voice is so stoic, so serious and deadpan that you can’t help but snort, a small giggle slipping past your lips before you can stop it. Fox pokes you in the side, which makes you instinctively slap his hand away as you begin to laugh more, until there’s a small, but audible huff of irritation from the driver's seat of the speeder. You stop, all of your previous safety and feelings of starting to be at ease retreating in an instant, your previous anxiety and discomfort snapping back like an elastic band being pulled to its limits and rebounding.

Fox notices your sudden stillness, your startling and abrupt retreat back within yourself. He frowns, and before you know it, your hands are intertwined with his. Your eyes widen. You’re taken off-guard for an instant because while the warmth of his hands and their steady, reassuring weight against yours has become familiar to you, the barrier of gloves in between is gone, and the palms that cradle yours are soft, warm, and grounding.

He lifts one of yours, guiding it until the palm is flipped face down, lightly resting against Mandalore’s warm, soft forehead.

“She’s here,” he states, lightly stroking the back of your fingers before letting go, leaving your hand settled against the guide dog’s soft fur.

The warmth of his touch completely surrounds and envelops your hand as he cradles it, taking the one remaining between both of his and guiding it to rest against his thigh, making no move to push you off or retreat as he looks down at you.  

“I’m here,” he says, his voice a low, soothing rumble that’s just above a whisper in the darkness.

He presses your hand against his, and you feel the rough calluses built up from years of handling blasters and weapons as his fingertips trace against your knuckles. 

“You’re almost home, Cyar. Just two more minutes,” he murmurs, glancing down at his comm as it tracks your progress on a map. “And me and Mandy aren’t going anywhere in the meantime.”

You swallow, shifting closer to him and nodding your head. You should be relieved, should be happy that you’re almost home and you can finally get away from this speeder that smells of stale cigars and dirty old caf cups and from the driver who has done nothing but make you feel uncomfortable and unsafe this whole time.

But all you can think as you look up at Fox and continue holding onto his hands, is consequences be damned. You really just want to lean forward, press your lips against his, and kiss him until the two of you are breathless right now.

*

“Are you good from here?”

You give Fox a small nod of your head, but make no move to extricate your arm from where it’s nestled in the crook of his elbow. Truthfully, you had been good some distance ago, as soon as the speeder had pulled up in front of your house. You knew where you were going, but he had still offered out his arm and guided you down the pathway, up the steps, and straight to your door with such uncharacteristically gentle attentiveness that you found yourself unable to refuse him, and since your hand is still shaking and you’re still throwing glances over your shoulder as the speeder drives off, so what if you’re enjoying someone fussing over you just a little? Right now, you’ll take it.

“You know, we will sort this out,” Fox says, voice quieter as he glances down at the hand still looped through his arm, sensing your hesitation. “This won’t happen again. I’ll make sure of it.”

In all honesty, Fox is fully preparing himself to march straight up to Senator Organa’s office, because he knows that out of most of the fools who work in the Senate Building, he will at least respectfully listen and take the security concerns towards his lower staff members seriously when Fox informs him of them. If nothing else—if your right to having consistent, accommodating transportation to and from work isn’t enough—then surely the knowledge that the Guard still hasn’t managed to catch the culprit behind the abductions surrounding his committee and the fact that you have to travel in unregulated and unsecure transports will be.

“I know,” you say, looking up at him through your eyelashes. Reluctantly, you let your hand fall away from where it’s been holding onto his arm, turning to unlock your door. “Thanks for getting me home. I don’t think I would’ve felt safe without having you there.”

The door opens, and you raise one foot to step through the threshold. Then, possessed by some reckless, unthinking urge, you turn around, clear the distance between the two of you in several quick, small steps, rise up onto your tiptoes. and with one of your hands holding onto his shoulder for leverage, press your lips against his in a soft, chaste kiss.

Fox’s brain short circuits. One minute, he’s thinking about speaking to Senator Organa and potential breaches in security, and the next all of his thoughts are swept away and instantly consumed by you, the hand that holds onto his armored shoulder feeling so light and inconsequential, and yet even through the plastoid, the touch is present and poignant, burning through his skin to the bones that lie beneath.

When your lips meet his, he feels the way in which they part, making way for a soft exhalation of breath that brushes against his own skin and his eyes widen, surprised and all at once wanting. He lifts a hand, undecided between whether he wants to tug you closer by one of your hips so he can indulge himself in knowing what it feels like to have you pressed up against him, or to lightly and with a gentleness he didn’t know he wanted to have, lift his hand to brush his fingers against the soft cheek unmarred by scars as his is and hold it within the gentle press of his palm as he cradles the side of your face, keeping your lips pressed against his exactly where he wants you, where he needs you, with a sudden fervor and to the very core of his being.

Fox isn’t given the chance to do either of those things. 

Mandalore, evidently impatient to get inside so she can finally be relieved of her work duties, gives an exasperated shake, jingling the metal in both her leash and harness as she waits by the door for you to return. You jump back, looking for all the world like you have just been caught doing something completely inexcusable. Fox doesn’t understand the twisting, sinking feeling in his chest when he catches sight of your expression, and you don’t give him much time to investigate it further.

“I…forgive me, Commander.”

Your words come out in a barely there whisper, and before he can respond—before he can even think about the over half-a-dozen responses in his head, ranging from a casual “nothing to forgive,” to a “please, do it again,” to just taking you by your fidgeting hands, spinning you so that you’re pinned against the wall and pressing his lips against yours until you’ve forgotten all about your previous apologies—you’re turning and scurrying away, eyes widened as if you’re a frightened tooka, and retreat back into the safety of your house, the tap of Mandalore’s paws click-clacking against the hardwood floor following after you, seeming to echo the accompanying silence, the abrupt and startling standstill that takes place in Fox’s mind as soon as you’ve disappeared behind the door.

Fox stares, eyes equally wide, at the panelled wood that now stands between the two of you, his breath caught in his throat. His lips are still parted, still eager, and still waiting to be given another kiss that he now knows is not coming.

It takes him a long, long time to summon the energy, the willpower, to turn and step away from your door and slowly descend the three porch steps.

Fox doesn’t know how he manages it, but, coward that he is, he walks away, hating himself more and more with every step that he takes as he leaves you behind.

•Thank You to @strangergraphics-archive for these adorable puppy dividers

[badbatchsprincess]

Heated ~ pt.24

Pt.1 ~ Pt.2 ~ Pt.3 ~ Pt.4 ~ Pt.5 ~ Pt.6 ~ Pt.7 ~ Pt.8 ~ Pt.9 ~ Pt.10 ~Pt.11 ~ Pt.12 ~ Pt.13 ~ Pt.14 ~ Pt.15 ~ Pt.16 ~ Pt.17 ~ Pt.18 ~ Pt.19 ~ Pt.20 ~ Pt.21 ~ Pt.22 ~ Pt.23 ~ Pt.24 ~ Pt.25

Masterlist

Summary: This is an ABO Bad batch!Poly x Omega Reader smut with a plot. This takes place as an AU before order 66. Y/N previously served under the 501st before being transferred to Special Forces 99. This is her adventure with these rowdy Alphas in a quickly changing universe.

THIS IS AN ABO AU ABOUT THE BAD BATCH (NO CANON OMEGA!) Due to the unfortunate situation of her name being Omega… Omega the child from the canon series is not going to be apart of this fanfic/porn with a plot. I feel obligated to put this warning in because it makes my skin crawl thinking anyone could make that mistake. 

Warnings: Angst, smut, hopecore? idk.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

The ride to Rex’s secret base of operations was a long one. You suspected it was in the outer rim based on how long you all had been traveling in hyperspace. 

You had curled up with Crosshair on the floor trying to stay warm with your still damp clothes. One of the regs had found a janky old heating lamp that flickered as everyone huddled around trying to keep the cold space chills away. It wasn’t working. 

“We’re not too far out!” Wooley had emerged from the cockpit, “We’ll be leaving hyper space soon.” 

You sighed with relief. You could’t wait to get off this ship and see the others. 

Through the bond you could sense Crosshair’s trepidation. 

“What’s wrong?” You asked looking up at him. 

He just grunted chewing on his toothpick. 

You huffed and shuffled back down knowing it was a waste of time to pry. He’ll tell you when he’s ready. 

When the ship suddenly jolted forwards, exiting hyperspace and the pilot downshifted making the ship rumble, you stood up with the others feeling the cargo ship enter the planets’s atmosphere with a rough shake. Standing on wobbly feet, you grabbed ahold of the cargo straps feeling Crosshair stand protectively at your back keeping you both in place. 

With a couple of jolts and jostles you felt the ship touch down on solid ground before settling into stillness. The engines were cut, and the cargo hatch made a whining creek sound as it folded open revealing the pink skies of this strange planet. The ship had landed on an elevated platform high in the sky and in front of you was a very old building. Seemingly an old Jedi monastery from the looks of it. 

The air was warm and humid with a strange terrestrial smell you weren’t familiar with. The others stepped outside before you, Wolffe, Crosshair, Bolts, Stunner, and Grim held up the flank. 

Following the other groups of regs in unmarked armor, they lead you all inside the main monastery door. Once inside, you nearly gasped from all of the regs who had made this place a home. It was absolutely crawling with men. From every battalion, squadron, and special forces unit under the GAR. You could’t believe it. They had converted this place into a fully operational military base.

Holo displays were everywhere monitoring the ships in the hyperspace lanes, there were men busy listening to com chatter, and others discussing strategy. They had built a tiny army here. 

You looked at the boys and they seemed to be just as impressed as you are. 

“Tiny!” 

You spun around to see Rex approaching you with his helmet on his hip. He had a very happy smile on his face even though he was covered in a fair amount of blaster residue. You trotted over to him practically flinging yourself at him. 

“You got my message! You came!” 

He squeezed you, “Of course I did, kid. You’re pack. We don’t leave pack behind.” 

Crosshair got called over by Wolffe to look at a holomap of the Marauder. Clearly it had to do with his brothers. 

“I can’t believe this place, Rex.” You looked around, “How long did this take to put together?” 

“At the end of the war, Tano and I knew if we wanted to save any of the clones, we were going to have to put together a group.” He pulled up a small holo image of something familiar, “We created a network, Fulcrum.” He handed you the puck, “It’s a spy network trying to free the troopers from imperial control. We may not have been able to save our pack, but we’re hoping we can save others.” 

You felt a pang of sadness hit thinking about the 501st.

“We need medics, Y/N. I know you’ve been through a lot, but we need soldiers like you.” He watched you slide the puck into your pocket, “We have a home here. You and your alphas are welcome to stay. We only have each other now.” He shrugged. 

You nodded taking his invitation to heart. 

Rex then scratched the back of his awkwardly, “Also, I wasn’t sure how to break the news to you, I was hoping Seargent Hunter would be here, but…”

“Y/N?” 

You turned around to see an unmarked reg approach. You watched him take off his helmet to reveal a scarred cheek and a fluffed up haircut. 

Your eyes widened in shock, “H-Howzer?” Oh shit. 

“Mesh’la…” He closed the distance and picked you up bringing into his chest. You struggled slightly squirming in his arms, “W-wait Howzer!…” 

“Put her the fuck down!” Crosshair’s growl made the hair stand up on your arms and the entire base to go eerily silent. 

He approached menacingly with his extremely narrowed eyes. Oh kark. He was pissed. Crosshair curled his fists determined to get his mate back and away from this strange alpha. 

Howzer stilled, knitting his brow together, before setting you down gently and turning to face the sniper. Howzer stood protectively in front of you crossing his arms with a stern brow raised sizing up your mate. Oh shit. You couldn’t believe this was happening right now. Your heart raced and suddenly the room was filled with your anxious pheromones. 

You noticed the others in the room bristle slightly as the scents mingled. 

Howzer’s stance only pissed off Crosshair even more. How dare this reg get in-between him and his mate. 

“Omega, come.” Crosshair ordered pointing a finger at the ground next to him. 

You felt your stomach drop knowing the next few seconds were going to change this dynamic drastically.  

You stepped to the side, and tiptoed out from behind the captain, just to nestle into Crosshair’s side where he had pointed previously. Crosshair didn’t need to use his alpha tone with you, you knew he wouldn’t. But, you also obeyed knowing this was not the time to try and make a point about how silly this all was. 

Howzer just gave you a confused and slightly shocked expression watching you cozy up to Crosshair, of all alphas. His disappointment was palpable. Then you saw his eyes flick down to the bite wound on your neck next to the property collar will dazzling around your lithe collarbones. 

“You’re mated?” He asked with an angry tone. 

You nodded, “Y-yeah.”

You didn’t know what was worse, the look he was giving you now, or the self imposed guilt of having to inform your ex-alpha that you were no longer his… 

“You fucking collared her!?” Your old alpha roared raising his fists. You squirmed feeling Crosshair nudge you behind him protectively. 

He just replied sardonically, “And if I did?” 

Dammit Cross… You couldn’t hold in the frustrate sigh, always picking fights…

It was Rex’s turn to look at you sideways, his disgust was also noticeable. The clones know a thing or two about slavery. The offending object raised and lowered quickly with your breath seemingly catching everyone’s attention now. You suddenly desperately wished for it to be gone.

“I always knew you were fucked up 99.” Howzer bared his teeth, “Killed all my men, tried to kill me too… now this?” He gestured to your neck, “It didn’t shock me you ended up with the imperials.”

You froze in place, but your eyes trailed up to the back on Crosshair’s silver haired head. He tried to what?! 

You knew he had done bad things in the name of the empire, but slaughtering Howzer’s men…

“Had I known who you were, I would have put that bullet between your eyes back on Ryloth.” Crosshair snarled back. 

“You can sure try.” Howzer challenged. 

Wolffe, Bolts, Grim, and Stunner all came forward with their arms raised. 

Wolffe stepped forwards getting in the middle to try and stop the fight, “Alright! Alright! Enough!” He sighed looking tired, “ Crosshair didn’t collar her, Tarkin did!” That bit of clarification seemed to be enough to de-escalate Howzer just slightly. “Now I don’t know what in the Sith’s hells is going on here, but I’ve been on the opposite end of 99’s wrath, and trust me Captain now is not the time for this.” 

Crosshair raised a suspicious brow, he never thought he’d actually see Wolffe defending him.

Howzer didn’t seem any less angry still feeling the ugly head of jealousy raging at the site of you tucked under the Sniper’s arm. 

“Now, what we now know about that little omega, is that she’s very important to the empire. She’s not just Crosshair’s mate, but also the other 99’s. Tarkin wanted her for experiments, along with the rest of us.” He pointed to the other clones in black civvies. “A day before you all arrived, we were drugged with SRA that drove us all into a rut. We’re all a little stirred up so let’s calm down for the sake of everyone here.” Wolffe was starting to remind you of an exhausted dad. You had to hold in a little chuckle, always a soldier.

“Tell them what you know, Tiny.” Grim urged, “You needed to talk to Rex.” 

You nodded and stepped around to Crosshair’s front and held out your hand to the Captain, “Nala Se gave me this before we escaped the base. She said it held all of my genetic records from the empire and also something that could assist the CT’s. She wiped the data base before giving it to me.” You stepped forward to place it into his hand, “It seemed important.” 

Rex took the drive with a nod and looked down at the little silver metal piece turning the holo drive over in his glued fingers.

Howzer stepped forwards, “What the hell is going on here?” He looked at you directly, “You were supposed to be mine… you were mine. Now, this?” He gestured to your mate.

Crosshair growled possessively raising an accusatory finger shoving it into Howler’s chest, “Should have sealed the deal then. But this omega… is mine.” You whimpered not liking this tension one bit. You may be matted to Crosshair, but you did have such a respect for Howzer from before.

Howzer stared at Crosshair before shifting his dejected gaze to you.

You sighed, “It’s complicated, Captain.” You lowered your eyes not liking the feeling of his disappointment. 

Howzer huffed, “Is it now?” 

Wolffe walked up trying to ease the tension, “Trust her, it is…” 

“You have no idea, brother.” Grim put a hand on his hip watching Howler bristle. 

Howzer scrunched his brow, “Well someone, enlighten me.” 

Rex just stepped forwards putting a hand on Howzer’s shoulder, “Well the long in the short is that, Tiny, is a rare variant of omega. She can have multiple mates. They happen to be the 99s. Though, the news of her being mated to Crosshair is new to me.” He raised a skeptical brow at you, “I guess a congratulations is in order.” 

“Thanks Rex.” You gave him a small smile. 

“The imperials gassed the base on Naboo with SRA.” Wolffe filled in the blanks, “They wanted clone pups. They also wanted Y/N cloned for the purpose to making more Ori’sol omegas for their breeding program.” 

“Breeding program?” Rex asked confused. 

“Thats why they sent me after her.” Crosshair rubbed a possessive hand over your neck and healing mark, “Admiral Tarkin was going to create a new elite army with our pups.” 

Rex furrowed his brow and gestured to your stomach, “Does that mean…” 

“No!” Both you and Crosshair blurted out, “No…” You shook your head, “No pups. Crosshair made sure I was safe, they didn’t know.” 

Rex just nodded letting his protective side settle down. You knew he would have had a conniption if that news was sprung on him too. Imagine, a secret military base with a pup running around, good gods.

“Is that why there were so many clones in that base?” A familiar figure stepped forwards. 

Cody. 

You smiled at him too. He gave you a little nod of acknowledgment. 

“Rounded up as many of us as they could.” Grim replied, “Had us pairing up with the captured omegas.” 

“That explains a lot.” Rex noted. 

You looked back at Howzer who was watching you longingly. Your heart ached with guilt seeing the hurt on his brow. This must be a lot to process for him. You weren’t his only omega, but you were definitely his most consistent. You were on Ryloth long enough to get to know the captain, but you never pursued any sort of relationship due to the on going war. He must be devastated seeing you with Crosshair. It wasn’t lost on you that the man had developed some kind of feelings for you after everything. 

Crosshair gave you a little squeeze pulling your attention back to him. He studied your eyes rubbing his thumb on your cheek. 

You could tell he was dying to lay into Howzer, but he was keeping his calm for your sake. 

In the background, Rex took the hollow drive and plugged it into the display table. Suddenly a massive projection of your entire genetic system popped up. One of the troopers you didn’t recognize began reading the reports. 

“Rex, you gotta see this.” He pointed to something floating by your DNA strands. 

You and Crosshair nuzzled together as the others began to gather around the table. You watched Howzer disappear into the crowd of clones needing some time to process clearly. 

“Did you really kill his men?” You asked. 

Crosshair just gave you a short grunt confirming it. 

“Would you have really killed him?” You asked. 

“The empire didn’t inform me of who he was.” He explained as he smoothed your hair down, “They sent me retrieve him from Ryloth for interrogation. His unit didn’t come willingly. In hindsight I realize it was because they were searching for you, and wanted him for information. But at that time I believed you to be dead, If I had known, I probably would have…. Still considering it.” 

You looked up at him with a shocked expression. But he just smiled and chuckled. 

He was joking… “Oh my gods, don’t say things like that.” You smacked his chest. 

A clone trooper in a flight uniform came running inside, “We got incoming!” 

You perked your head up turning to face the main doorway. In came another group of scared and confused omegas along with more clone troopers. Blankets and food was being passed around as more and more people entered the hall.

They shuffled inside looking even more distraught after the events on Naboo. Some still covered in blaster residue and in their imperial garments. 

You watched as the crowd began to lighten up before you noticed a very distinct helmet appear from the darkness. 

“Hunter.” You breathed.

You flung yourself forward running at full speed crashing into your Sargent before he even had a chance to remove his helmet. 

He grunted with the impact of your body before throwing his helmet carelessly to the side before picking you up and holding you to his armored chest. 

You started crying finally feeling the empty bit in your chest begin to fill with his presence again. Rubbing your cheek into his to spread his scent, he nuzzled into your hair practically inhaling your smell.

“Mesh’la.” He breathed, “Fuck. I missed you my love.” He buried his head into your hair breathing you in, refusing to let go. You just wrapped yourself around his torso with your legs letting him hold you tightly. 

“You found me.” You whimpered into his neck nuzzling his scent into your nose. 

“Of course we found you, Adi’ka.” He replied gruffly before pulling back to press his lips to yours. You melted immediately into his plush soft kiss. Carding your fingers through his lengthy hair, you massaged his scalp as he deepened the kiss making you mewl.

“Pip?” Wrecker’s hopeful voice snapped you out of your haze. Hunter spun the two of you to see Tech, Wrecker, and Echo jogging towards you both from the landing platform. 

Hunter set you down, letting you unwrap yourself before the other three surrounded you in a group hug squeezing you nearly to death. You were being smothered in kisses and touches and hugs.

Crosshair watched as the three other 99’s fawned over you, asking you a million questions you struggled to answer. They wanted to know everything. What happened. Were you hurt? How did you get to the bas eon Naboo? What was going on there?

Hunter caught his attention as his older brother stared at him with one of his intense scrutinizing glares. He was still pissed about the events on Bracca apparently, even though now he was starting to realize that Crosshair was much different.

Then it was like an epiphany went off in hunter’s head. He looked at Crosshair with a raised brow, then over to you, sniffing the air slightly. What you didn’t know, was that he was hearing something even stranger…

“What did you do?” Hunter’s smokey voice turned hardened at his little brother. 

Wrecker let go of you to look up at his Hunter sensing a change in energy. 

Hunter looked at your chest before whipping his head around to face his little brother. 

“What. Did. You. Do.” Hunter narrowed is eyes. He pointed a gloved finger at you, “Her heart… it beats… with yours.” 

Crosshair just stood emotionless, but you could sense his panic through the bond. Hunter’s intensity was unsettling to the sniper. Always has been.

“H-Hunter, wait it’s not what-“ You began, but Tech cut you off as his finger pried at your neck. He tugged on the metal welded around your neck with a horrified look. He ran his fingers over the aurebesh engraving declaring you his twin’s property. Then his fingers went down to your mating gland where he traced a finger over the marred skin. It looked freshly healed where Crosshair had punctured your flesh marking you as his with two little raised bumps. 

“He bit you?” Tech said rubbing the gland making you flush at his touch. He forgot how stimulating that was for you.

You barely had time to register the eldest charging at Crosshair before the sound of his fist colliding with his little bother’s cheek snapped you out of the haze. 

You screamed watching Hunter and Crosshair roll around on the temple floor. Echo kept you from running forwards not wanting you to get hurt in their scuffle. He held you firmly under his arm.

“Shit.” Rex leapt into action along with Wolffe, and shockingly, Howzer. 

Crosshair had Hunter pinned and was pummeling his forearms as his brother blocked his hits. But Hunter wasn’t giving up, fueled by rage, he threw his little brother off of him and cold cocked him in the jaw sending them both tumbling to the ground. 

“Alright! Alright!” Wolffe used his commanding voice. He bent down and yanked Crosshair back right as Rex got a hold of Hunter. 

“How could you Crosshair?!” Hunter snarled. The two were being scrubbed by the collar like two tookas.

Wrecked walked over to put himself between his brothers as the verbal fight broke out, as they tugged against their restraints trying to lunge at one another again.

You whimpered, unable to watch the fight anymore. Feeling suddenly extremely claustrophobic, you turned around looking at Tech, “Please! Please Tech!” You yanked and tugged at the collar, “Please take this off.” You begged. 

He nodded and reached around in his tool belt grabbing your abused laser suture. 

“Echo give me your glove.” Tech said. 

Echo handed it over before running his flesh hand over your shoulder trying to soothe you. 

Tech nudged the glove under the collar gently, before bringing out the tools. Very carefully, he brought the glowing plasma point up to the Imperial durasteel collar and got to work weakening the welding points as you squirmed uncomfortably. 

“How could you do this to her?” Hunter snarled, “She nearly died when you turned to the empire!” 

“I didn’t turn to the empire!” Crosshair snapped. 

“You tried to kill her!” 

You could feel Crosshair’s hurt through the bond at Hunter’s words… he didn’t mean to. 

“You know I didn’t have control. I would never fucking hurt her!” Crosshair’s glare darkened, “You’re the one who left me behind! You left me under their control!… I thought we were brothers!” 

Hunter looked like he had just been punched in the gut. 

The sergeant stared at his brother letting his mouth hang open slightly unsure how to respond. 

Tech finally freed you from the property collar wrenching it open only to let it fall to the ground with a deafening clatter. The silence that followed after sent a chill down your spine. 

You looked over at Hunter who eyed the metal at your feet. 

You cleared your throat before speaking, “I did it!” You looked to the eldest, “I mated Crosshair…. I bit him. It’s my fault…Please Hunter don’t be mad at him.” You wanted this stupid fight to end. It hurt your watching them argue, especially over something Hunter doesn’t even understand. 

Once again Hunter looked shocked and appalled. He stood up straight staring at you with a bated breath. You could feel the sour taste of his disappointment too. He shook off Rex and stormed out of the hangar not even able to look at you for one more second… kriff. You sighed. 

He fucking hates you. You suddenly felt sick with anxiety and fought back the urge to vomit.

What should have been a happy reunion had suddenly turned sour. 

You felt Tech and Wrecker disappear, heading after Hunter leaving you alone with Echo and Crosshair. Dammit. 

“Y/N, what happened?” Echo asked bringing you into a hug. The only one giving you an ounce of empathy. 

“Ask Wolffe, he’ll tell you.“ You sighed pushing away unable to bare anymore of this, “I’ve had enough for today. Is there a place I can rest for a bit?” You looked to Rex who nodded and gave ordered to his men to guide you to a quiet place. 

You followed behind the clones letting them lead you to a spare room that had been converted into living space. You looked around realizing this is Rex’s quarters. You sighed and rubbed at your neck finally feeling lighter now that, that offending metal was gone and you were free again.

The door whooshed open to reveal your mate. He stepped inside looking exhausted and his chin a nasty swelling red. 

“I knew it was wrong to leave you with the imperials.” You said quietly feeling the tears rise in your eyes, “I told them.” 

He nodded putting a toothpick in his mouth. Of course he managed to find one even here on this remote base. 

“Hunter’s always been good at protecting the group.” Crosshair drawled, “We have a plan, you know, if one of us isn’t going to make it back.” 

You looked up at him with bleary eyes. 

“Plan 99.” He nodded, “A suicide mission.” 

“But you weren’t sacrificing yourself for the group.” You whimpered, “We left you and that was fucked up.” 

He scoffed, “Given the circumstances I understand him… doesn’t make it hurt any less. But what were four of them going agains the empire really going to do.” 

“Cross.” You sighed, “We should have gotten you the second we knew about the chips. I should… I should have pushed harder.” 

“He wouldn’t have listened to you.” Crosshair sat in the chair against the wall facing you, “And it’s not your fault, love. His main concern was protecting you.” 

“Why are you justifying his actions? You sounded so hurt!” You whimpered wiping away a falling tear. 

“We’re brothers.” He rolled his eyes, “It’s what we do.” 

You just whined and let the tears keep falling, “I think he hates me.” 

Crosshair motioned for you to come to him. You walked over standing between his open legs. He tugged you down so you were sitting on his lap. He pulled you in close so you rested against his chest and he tucked your head under his chin. 

“He doesn’t hate you. I promise. He’s just jealous, and probably a little hurt that it wasn’t him that got to you first.” Crosshair chuckled, “Trust me, that wasn’t even bad for Hunter.” 

“But did you see the way he looked at me.” You sniffled, “I- he’s never looked at me like that before.” 

Crosshair just held you tighter, “I’ve been the receiving end of that look for years. You’re alright, just give him some time.” 

“But the others?”  All you wanted was your pack, your lovers, your alphas. But they didn’t seem to want you either. 

“They just do whatever Hunter does.” Crosshair scratched the back of your neck affectionately, “Wrecker will crack first, and then Tech. Hunter has to punch a few walls first, but he’ll come around eventually. He’s too responsible and frankly, I’m certain all he wants is to have his little omega back.” 

Crosshair’s words did start to make you feel better. One thing about Cross is that he’s not a liar. He’s been a straighter shooter his entire life, in more ways than one. He always tells it as it is. That gave you confidence. 

He leaned down and kissed your forehead, “I’m just glad we’re out of that place.” He couldn’t seem to get close enough to you. You nuzzled in closer too. 

“Thank you Crosshair.” You looked up at him, “Thank you for always taking care of me.” 

You both shared a moment of just gazing at one another before you both leaned forwards to bring your lips together. 

Then it was like the weight of everything you both had been through came crashing through, and the absolute desire you felt for this man blazed through you like an inferno. He had saved you back on Mimban, twice, and now here he is again saving you from the plans of the empire and admiral Tarkin. 

You pushed yourself up and straddled his lap before letting him pick you up and carry you over to the bed pushed up against the far wall. 

It was a scramble to tear each others clothes off leaving you both bare, before he laid down onto of you, pressing you into the mattress. 

His warm battle hardened body felt marvelous against your softness. 

You breathed him in, leaning up to run your tongue against his healed mating gland. The alpha shivered at the sensation making him rut up against you, running his hardening length through your dampening folds. 

You mewled lifting your hips to push up against him. 

You could feel him smile into your neck as he pressed loving kisses there before kissing your mating mark with a gentleness that was foreign to the sniper. 

You squirmed as he pressed more kisses down your neck, then collarbones, your sternum, belly, pelvis, then you thigh. With a strong and firm grip, he plucked your legs up bending them so you were folded in half and spread wide for him. You whined as he continued his light and gentle kisses all over your thighs, traveling between one leg and the other before inching closer and closer to your core making you pant in anticipation. 

When his lips finally made contact with your dripping core, you had to cover your mouth with your hand before you let out an embarrassingly loud cry. 

He just smirked as he sloppily made out your with cunt making you absolutely thrash around in blinding pleasure under him. 

He had to pin your legs down to keep you still as he ravished you. His tongue seemed to know exactly where to go in order to make you twitch as your orgasm approached. He licked and massaged you until you were bending your back into an exaggerated arch as you quickly felt yourself hurtling over that edge into deafening pleasure. You couldn’t even mewl as you came down, you just tried to force yourself to breathe through the orgasm. 

“Fuck Cross.” You huffed going limp into the mattress. 

He wasted no time lining himself up knowing you were properly prepped to take him now. Feeling how relaxed you were post orgasm, he thrusted forwards feeling himself enter you with a slippery ease. You both moaned out at the fullness as he surged forwards bringing the two of you flush together in absolute harmony. The bond sang between the two of you as you two psychically came together. It was like a relief to the soul. Like slipping into a cool pool on a hot summer day. 

He leaned forwards kissing you passionately, allowing his tongue to enter your mouth where you both huffed trying to breathe through the sensations of him pushing inside of you. 

You broke away to suck in a deep breath of air before you both looked down to see where you were connected. You both whined at the sight before throwing your head back to enjoy the feeling of Crosshair making passionate love to you. 

Wrapping your form around his, you locked your ankles together to force him deeper inside of you. This spurred him on to be a little rougher with you, liking the way you bounced up and down the mattress on his cock. He leaned down to catch a nipple in his mouth as he sucked diligently making you bow your chest into his mouth eagerly. 

“Cross…” You grappled at his back leaving scratches with your nails, “I love you.” 

He smiled pressing his lips to your forehead, “I love you, Y/n.” 

The two of you kept saying it over and over again like a mantra as you both approached the peak. 

His thrusts only got more powerful as he neared, sending you scooching up the mattress. You held on for deal life as pleasure crashed through you violently making you clamp down and twitch around his hard length. 

He snarled and bit down on your mark again as he shivered, pumping you full of his seed. 

As he came down from his high, his teeth held onto the flesh at your gland making you vibrate through the bond. The possessive act only spurred you on. The post coital horniness still lingered as you wiggled your hips trying to feel him inside you more. Deeper. Fuller. 

You couldn’t get enough of him. 

He tried pinning you down by the hip before releasing your neck from his teeth. As he sat up on his knees with a flush to his cheeks, he looked down at you adoringly as you squirmed around trying to get him deeper inside of you. 

“Adi’ka,” He pushed his silver hair out of his eyes and ran a warm hand over your ribs before settling them on your belly like he had on Naboo. You preened under his touch. 

“Such a good girl.” He rubbed your warm skin with his thumb. 

Looking up through the open monastery window, you saw the dual moons rising in the distance casting a silvery glow over your skin and the mattress. 

Crosshair watched you become moon eyed in your post fuck glow. He pulled from you hearing you whimper at the feeling of now being empty. He chuckled, grabbing a tissue near by, and using it to clean himself before tucking himself back into the black joggers along with cleaning you up as best as he could realizing you were just fucking in Rex’s bed. Whoops.

He helped you slip back into your tattered white clothes before curling up behind you under Rex’s blanket to keep you both warm. 

Without another word, the two of you fell asleep finally succumbing to the day. 

~

When morning broke, you were awakened by Stunner poking his head through the door with a grin that very much reminded you of Fives. 

“Hey just making sure you’re both still kickin’.” He grinned. 

You heard Crosshair grunt in annoyance and felt him snuggle you closer. 

“Gmornin Stun.” Your voice was still groggy from sleep. 

“Breakfast in the mess.” Stunner said stepping back outside, “Probably should grab come chow before everyone else.” 

You nodded and got up shaking Crosshair’s arm off of you. He curled up on his side ignoring the call to breakfast, but you were still hungry and wanted familiar food. The sniper was content staying in bed for just a moment longer. 

You shimmied out of bed giving Cross a kiss before walking out to follow Stunner. 

In the daylight you could finally see more about this ancient monastery. 

Carvings decorated the walls along with gilded imagery of ancient force wielders. You were positive this monastery was older than most civilizations and maybe even some planets. The pink hazey sky seemed to only add a warmth to this high up colony as you trailed after Stunner who seemed to have learned the way back to the main hall already. 

You followed the sound of boisterous laughter and the sounds of reunion as you entered the main mess, the smell of eggs and breakfast meats filled your nose and you audibly sighed smelling the deliciousness in the air. 

It was hard to miss your gargantuan mate scarfing down his meal along with Tech who was sitting to his left, back turned to you. He ate in silence scrolling through something on his data pad. 

Echo was sitting with Rex who looked like he didn’t sleep after the rescue. He must have been up all night trying to process everyone and everything along with whatever was on that holodrvie you brought. The only one missing was Hunter. Your heart sank hoping he’d be here but when Stunner handed you a loaded tray of food, you were brought back to the moment and you looked down at your purple scrambled eggs and fried bantha links. 

Your stomach betrayed you and you heard Stunner chuckle before bringing you to a cluster of 104th. You sat down between Bolts and Grim grabbing your spork to dig in. It wasn’t long before your attention was brought to the back of Wrecker’s head and his broad shoulders. Then you looked at the back of Tech’s head, his hair was all disheveled under his goggle band and he had a bit of a slump to his already not great posture. Poor alpha looked tired.

You stared longingly, praying they’d turn around and just look at you for a moment. Your inner omega was starting to get anxious with the need to have their reassurance and attention.

Before you could get totally lost in your head, Grim gave you a little shove snapping you out of it. 

They knew. 

Everyone did. You weren’t exactly subtle. 

The 104th seemed to have weaseled their way into becoming your pack just like the 501st had all those years ago. It was like they could read your anxieties as well as your mates, and they were very supportive. Wolffe gave you a nod from where he was sat with Rex. 

“They’ll come around.” Bolts nodded, “I overheard Wolffe taking with your Sergeant last night, he told him everything.” 

“Yeah, but does that even matter?” You touched your bite mark, “What’s done is done.” 

“Did the bite make you no longer want your other mates?” Grim asked bluntly. 

You shook your head, “No. The bonds are still there.” 

Bolts gave you a smile, “Then you’re fine. Maybe being an Ori’sol means that you can have multiple mates and multiple mate bonds to go with them.” 

“She’ll be covered in teeth marks when Sarge is done with her.” Grim joked. 

You felt your cheeks redden. 

“Aye leave her alone.” Bolts reached over you to shove Grim, “She’s going through it.” 

“I’m trying to make her smile, or she’s going to loose her mind like those omegas who pull out their hair.” Grim shoved his brother back. 

You finished up your last bantha sausage and set the tray down letting them rough house over your head. 

You leaned forwards towards Stunner, “Do you know where Hunter is?” 

“Sarge took his breakfast outside on the landing platform before I came to get you.” He chewed his eggs. 

“Thanks Stun.” You stood up stretching before beginning your walk across the main room. You walked past the circular holo display in the center and was careful to step over the big power cables running over the floor. 

You neared Tech and Wrecker feeling your heart start to race as you neared. Keeping your head forward, you walked past them not missing the way they both perked up watching you walk towards the exit. You felt your stomach doing flips at their attention and chose to take one glance back at them. Wrecker looked at you longingly and Tech’s steely demeanor was even chipped at slightly as you saw his eyes soften when they met yours. 

Knowing you had to find Hunter first, you sighed and kept moving on. You heard the door swish behind you and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You almost wished they’d come after you, but you knew Crosshair was right, they follow Hunter’s lead no matter what. He’s the one you have to tackle first. 

With a huff, you felt your anxieties turn to frustration with a tinge of anger. 

You put your hands in your sweater pockets and trudged forwards through the rubble that the clones seemed to have built a landing platform out of. 

With a sweep of your eyes, you couldn’t find him anywhere, but you could feel his energy through the bond close by. 

With a sigh, you crossed your arms and spoke out into the air in front of you, “I know you’re out here.” 

Some other clones on guard looked at you funny before they saw your Sargent emerge from behind a pile of rubble with his empty breakfast tray good distance away. 

You locked eyes with him and felt your pulse quicken. Damn he looked good. Dawn’s soft pink light made his tanned skin glow. His hair was pushed back by his signature bandana, but he wasn’t in his armor anymore. He was in his beige cargos and teal henley. He still has the burgundy wrist wraps and brown belt with his holster snugly at his side with his blaster tucked neatly inside. 

You had to force yourself to breathe and keep your composure but you were sure he could scent your slight arousal in his presence. 

You tapped your foot impatiently narrowing your eyes, “You’re a dick!” 

He scoffed and stopped walking towards you, crossing his arms defensively, “Excuse me?” He raised his non-tattooed brow and used his military tone. It sent a shiver down your spine.

You saw a couple of the other clones shift uncomfortably nearby watching an omega challenge her alpha.

“You heard me!” Kark ya he heard you, super hearing an all. You could roll your eyes, “I haven’t seen you in a month, I was kidnapped, and subjected to trauma I have no clue if I’ll ever recover from and all I get the fucking silent treatment?” 

He stared at you not moving, almost inhumanly still. Like a predatory animal waiting to pounce. 

“Do you have any fucking idea what Crosshair and I had to endure? The empire treated me like a brood mare and Crosshair like some glorified stud horse. And what they fucking did to me? Collared me like a rabid lurka hound!” You snarled, “And all I wanted during those awful nights… was you!” You shifted your feet slightly but kept your arms secure around your chest, “All I wanted was my alpha, my mate… my damn sergeant to come make it all better. I dreamed of you for a month praying you’d find me somehow! That I would be back with my pack!” 

He opened his mouth to speak but you shushed him with a finger. If you were still in the GAR he would have had you court marshaled for speaking to him like this. The idea made your heart race, “I’m not finished… The things Crosshair did to save me from Tarkin’s bantha shit… he put his life on the line every single day to make sure he didn’t knock me up and that Tarkin couldn’t have our pups. He delayed Tarkin’s orders to come after you and the others, he risked everything to get our message out to you, including the 104th! He doesn’t deserve to be treated the way you have. He protected me inside that fucking base! And this-“ You pointed to your neck, “This was a fucking accident. We weren’t in control and trust me, there is nothing you could say to Crosshair that is worse than what he felt in that moment.” You were breathing heavily now fighting down the anger, “So no… you don’t get to treat us like this. Crosshair and I didn’t do anything wrong, we did everything we could to survive that imperial installation and I’m sorry this didn’t happen the way you wanted it too, but here we are.” You flapped your arms around exasperated. 

He studied the way your chest heaved with anger and the way the other clones stood there awkwardly trying not to be seen. He could hear everyone’s heart beats in the vicinity but yours stood out to him the most, including that delicious smell rolling off of you in waves. You might be royally pissed, but he couldn’t help but feel a little smug you were still responding to him and his presence. 

He sighed closing his eyes briefly before nodding.

“You’re right.” He yielded, “I am a dick.” 

You had to double to take to make sure you were hearing him correctly. Did he just admit to being wrong?

“I shouldn’t have started a fight with Cross, and I shouldn’t have walked away from you.” He kept his arms crossed looking at you, “I was jealous Adi’ka. Seeing you mated to him, it nearly broke my heart. And you telling me, us, that you choose him…You’re all I’ve thought about since we lost you and I don’t know, I was hoping everything would go back to the way it was before…” he gestured to the mark, “But what’s done is done, I guess.” The hint of brokenness in his voice made your anger wither, “You chose Crosshair and I’m just going to have to be okay with that.” 

You scrunched your brow, confused you asked, “Wait, do you think our mate bonds were broken?” You shook your head, “Hunter I’m not just bound to Cross, I’m still bound to all of you too…still.” 

“But, you’re claimed.” He shook his head a little in confusion. 

“Yes, but it didn’t change how I feel about all of you.” You explained, “I can just feel Crosshair a lot stronger now.” 

His brows perked up with hope. 

“Clearly the claiming marks don’t work the same with me. If I was a normal omega I wouldn’t even be able to comprehend a different alpha. You know this.” 

“So, you think everything is still the same?” He asked stepping towards you. 

“I do.” You nodded letting him crowd into your space, “I felt you through our bond on Naboo. We’re still mated…” 

You were suddenly enveloped in his presence. His familiar scent filled your nose making you vibrate with excitement. You hadn’t even notice him advancing on you.

He reached out a finger to lift your chin to face him. You looked into his grey hazel eyes as he peered down at you. 

“Mesh’la...” He sighed, “We’re not mated… yet.” His tone lit a fire in your core. That was a promise. The way he was looking at you, like he had back on Mimban, had you starting to warm. He raised a brow and smirked watching the way you shuddered at the idea of him claiming you. 

“H-Hunter.” You whispered his name. 

His finger under your chin quickly turned into a soft caress down your neck, “We found a place, love. It’s a green place, with no one but us. It’s in the outer rim, almost in the unknown regions. We found it when Rex was looking for our brothers. We can start over there, no one will know us, the empire can’t find us. We’ll build our own pack, start our own family.” He looked so happy. Happier than you had seen him in a very long time.

You looked up at him owlishly. Just like you had dreamed… 

“Tech is already making plans on building the home stead. We want to take you there cyare.” 

You blinked at him, you couldn’t believe this man, your Sergeant, was willing to go to such lengths to protect you. To give you everything you dreamed of as a pup. You never thought you’d make it off of Coruscant. And now, you were in an entirely different universe. One where you barely had anytime to process and he was offering you peace. 

You looked up at the soldier. You could almost laugh at the irony. A being created with only one purpose, to kill and serve, was offering you peace. 

The thought was beautiful.

Despite his creator’s purpose, it would seem Hunter and the Batch’s defectiveness would always remain victorious. 

“Yes. Yes Hunter. Bring me to the green place.”

We love hope core in this house....

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Taglist: @substantial-exposure

@rains-on-kamino

@minimissmoo

@z-and-the-batboys

@aynavaano

@9902sgirl

@sideofhorny

@sxftiebee

@booksandtitts-blog

@subbing-for-clones

[professional-yearner]

Saving Grace

Yandere Coruscant guard x reader

Pt.1

TW: for suggestive themes, yandere themes, murder attempt of major characters, obsession at first meeting,

(Very slow updates)

You sighed, trying to shake the drowsiness that seemed to stick to you like gum. You woke up a little late today. Scratch that, you had woken up exactly on time, but fallen back asleep almost just as quick. Luckily for you, it didn't affect your trip too much (seeing as you had learned to walk at a clip when you needed to) other than putting a bit of anxiety about getting to your job on time behind your actions.

Hoisting your work bag on your shoulder, you enjoyed the feeling of the wind whizzing by the open air transport as you lazily watched the guards patrolling the car in front of yours. They were doing what they usually did, checking tickets and making sure that no one was causing too much of a ruckus.

You rather liked the patterns and colors of the guards armor; one with stripes and the other with more of a color block paint job. They entered your car with a swipe of a security card, coming in silently and beginning to ask for tickets. Nodding blankly, you dug around your bag for your pass, only looking up when you heard a man raising his voice.

“I don't have to show you anything, clone.”

You turned to glare at him, only in time to see him shove the guard with the striped armor. Hard.

So hard he fell right past you and off the transport all together.

You gasped, grabbing for him without thinking. Catching his arm, you felt yourself lurch forward from his weight, falling to your knees as you tried to stop him from falling into the seemingly endless void of Coruscant traffic.

His helmet was gone in an instant, knocked loose by the blow and disappearing into the flow of cars.

His terrified eyes bore into yours as you struggled not to fall over yourself, trying desperately to pull him back to safety.

Your fingers felt like they were on fire as they dug into the space between his vambrace and elbow plate, only able to grip onto the black body glove underneath

Finally, you felt a pair of strong hands pulling you back from the edge by the waist, helping you succeed in pulling the guard up onto the shuttle once more.

He pushed himself up as his brother ran back down the train after his almost killer.

“Oh my god,” You panted, still on your hands and knees as you tried to catch your breath, “Are you alright?”

He was shaking, tears streaming down his face as he stared, looking in shock at the ground in front of him.

Your expression softened, tears of your own welling in your eyes for the man.

You reached over, resting your hand softly on his arm, “Hey,”

That made him look up at you, eyes unfocused for a moment before they widened, taking you in. They then moved to the hand you still had on his arm, making you blush.

You took it away quickly, “Sorry!”

The trooper shook his head, his own cheeks turning a bit red.

You both just looked at each other for a minute. It made you shift uncomfortably, unsure of if you should be the one to break eye contact first. Reprieve came in the form of the transport's robotic voice calling your stop, making you stand quickly. You felt bad for leaving him just sitting there, drying tears on his face in a transport full of strangers, but you didn't know what else to do.

You really needed this job.

“Sorry- sir, it's, um, my stop.” You said quickly, waving a bit as you stepped off, free of the once terrifying now awkward interaction.

You felt eyes on your back until the transport started moving again, leaving you mostly alone on the platform.

Von was in love.

He laughed to himself, feeling over the places she had touched him. Von felt himself twitch under his codpiece as his breathing became more ragged.

She was perfect. His perfect little savior. So soft and sweet, unlike her surroundings. Such a disgusting city didn't deserve someone like her, but he thanked the stars she was here anyways.

He hadn't been able to get her flustered face out of his mind since his brothers had brought him back to the barracks to recover from the attempt on his life. He had just been laying there for a few minutes, fantasies of her circling his thoughts as he stared into nothing.

Oh she was adorable.

The way she was so worried about him after getting him to safety, her sad little whimpers as she attempted to get him and all 70 pounds of his armor back onto the platform, how she flushed when she'd touched him.

He wondered how she'd blush when he touched her, knowing just the right spots to make her-

"Von, brother? You doing alright?" Hack called from the doorway, looking concerned.

He nodded, smiling and assuring the other clone, "I'm fine! Thanks, brother."

The blond clone nodded, "Just wanted to make sure,"

He walked back out into the hall, leaving his sibling once more, "You've been in there for hours."

[st4rsnf1cs]

My Family is Elsewhere

Pairings: Rex x Mando fem! Reader

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

Ganre: fuckin- fluff ig idk JEBDJDB

Word count: 1,928

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

“My Family Is Elsewhere”

-

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You walked over to the Captain, staring down at him for a moment before you looked over at his helmet, and at the Jaig eyes.

“Warrior.” You whispered, pulling up a seat by the bed. “Many battles you have won, more will follow. Stay strong” You murmured, placing your helmet on the ground beside you.

-

Rex stirred, a groan falling from his lips as some pain shot up through his ribs before turning to dull throbs as he sat up, looking around the room, seeing other injured clones in hospital beds, being tended to by nat-borns and… Mandalorians?

He heard a cough next to him, and so he turned his head, eyes widening as he locked eyes with the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He glanced down, taking in the details of your armor. On your left chest piece you had a blue painted symbol of the Mythosaur, and on your right pauldron was your clan signet, forged in beskar.

He then noticed your helmet by your feet, seeing the symbol of the Jaig eyes above the visor, though they had a bit of a different design than his own. “Good afternoon, Captain.” you spoke up, and he tore his eyes away from your helmet, looking at you once again.

“R-rex, Captain Rex.” He greeted, looking down at his bandaged chest. “You had some internal bruising, but you’ll heal fine. Our Chief has asked me to help you establish communications with your Republic. So once your armor is brought over and once you're dressed, I will take you to the Manor, and we will contact the Republic.” You explained, grabbing your helmet off the ground, securing it on top of your head.

“Right… th-thank you.” Rex stammered, seeing you nod as you walked away.

It didn’t take long to get ahold of the Republic, obviously in a war so busy it would take a couple days to send a transport to pick up the clones, but in that time you had been spending lots of time with Rex and his boys despite your fathers warnings.

-

You had gotten so close to the Captain that when it was time for them to leave, you had almost begged for Rex to stay. But he had to leave and you understood. It of course didn’t stop you from keeping contact with him however, and when you got your hands on a ship you started traveling to Coruscant and started meeting up with Rex.

After a year you married the damn man. It was very secretive, only a select few people had attended, but of course Rex’s General found out not long after it had happened, and kept it a secret. But after Rex had become your Riddur you moved to Coruscant permanently, and took up bounty work for the Republic, not enlisting, but definitely helping where you could, hoping that what you did increased the odds of Rex coming home to you at night.

-

Tonight had been an especially hard night for you, you had gotten the message from some of your clan members that your father had passed, and since you were his only heir you had to return to Mandalore before that title was taken and what little freedom you had was taken by the death watch.

You had been crying when the door to your apartment opened, and Rex entered. He saw you slumped over, helmet on the coffee table with your armor on, which confused him. “Mesh’la?” Rex called out, and you spun to face him.

His heart broke when he saw the amount of tears streaming down your face and he immediately knelt down in front of you, placing one hand on your thigh while the other went up to your cheek, wiping the tears as they fell.

“What happened?” He asked, and through your sniffles you spoke up. “My father is dead… I must return home to claim the title.” You sobbed, leaning into your touch as he frowned. “Oh…” He trailed off, and you nodded, wiping your face with your gloved hand as you sighed. “I cannot let my legacy fall into the hands of the Death watch…” You stated, rising to your feet as Rex did.

Rex thought back to his last mission, and to what Cut had offered him, a place to stay. But Rex had said that he had to go, because he had a family waiting for him. He had you. And now you had to leave to protect your family too.

Rex nodded in understanding, pulling you into his arms as he kissed your forehead. “Go. I won’t stop you. But keep in contact with me, and if you need me i’m sure i can convince General Skywalker to take a detour to Mandalore.” He said, making you chuckle as you pulled away.

You pressed your forehead to his, sighing. “I’ll always have you in my heart, Riduur.” You muttered, pulling him into a gentle kiss. “I’ll contact you when I arrive in Mandalore.” You stated, grabbing your helmet and what clothes you had already packed.

You walked to the door, turning to look at your husband, offering him a warm smile. “I have a feeling i’ll be seeing you soon.” You stated.

And boy were you ever right.

“But that’s a story for another time, of to bed kiddos!” You exclaimed as you clapped your hands together, seeing your two children, twins, boy and a girl whine.

Your daughter had bright blonde hair, and striking blue eyes that much resembled her father, your son however, had a mix of you and a mix of their father, having your eyes and hair colour but his fathers skin tone.

As your kids ran off, you felt a pair of arms wrap around you, and you smiled warmly, tilting your head back as you spotted your husband, Rex, smiling down at you. “Regailing how we met hm?” He asked, pressing his lips to your temple as you chuckled. “Indeed, they asked so i told.” You stated, standing up and turning to face him, resting a hand on your very pregnant belly.

“They’re growing so fast, Riduur.” You sighed, leaning into rex as he hummed. “I know… and i have to leave again…” He trailed off, and you sighed. “I know… Echo and the other clones need you… just- stay alive baby, okay?” You asked, and Rex nodded, getting down to one knee as he pressed gentle kisses to your round stomach.

“I’ll be back to see this little one pop, i promise.” He stated, standing up and kissing you once more before placing his helmet on his head, walking to the door. “Tell Hunter and the others i said goodbye?” He asked, and you nodded. “See you soon, Riduur.” You waved, watching as he walked out of your home and closed the door.

You sighed again. Time to put your little family to sleep.

Your little warriors… the family Rex always came home too.

➺

Tag list:

Rex tag:

Tcw:

All:

[shu-of-the-wind]

happy holidays, my lovely secret santa @flyfreeskylark! ‘tis i, your holiday flower fairy @shu-of-the-wind, with the trouble with holiday mead (soon to be now coposted to ao3). your prompts included everybody lives/nobody dies, mission fic, undercover fic, first kiss, first time, kissing for the mission, and smut is great but not necessary. unfortunately the smut fairy did not visit me this year but i hope the rest is up to snuff!

slight cw for honeytraps (not fulfilled/no sex) and pushy men in bars.

---

She hates Nevarro.

Some childish, long-lost part of her might say it’s because her first memories are from a snowy prison world, and being stuck on a planet loaded with lava flows is roasting her alive. Some other parts of her, bits that sound like Saw, like Magva, say it’s because it’s a logistical nightmare. Nevarro is all open space when it’s not flowing lava, an incomprehensible smear of ash and ancient, cracking magma rivers. There’s nowhere to hide on Nevarro, no cover to take, no place to go that isn’t baked grey with soot that lingers in every footstep.

Jyn wipes out another glass, and sets it on the counter. They picked this place for its heavy bounty hunter population—any Imp-controlled planet is bound to be lousy with them, but Nevarro City’s famed for it, all over the Outer Rim—but she hadn’t expected it to be this intense. If she lets herself get nostalgic, tips her head and squints, it almost reminds her of days with the Partisans. Insurgents and criminal syndicates aren’t all that different in their mechanics, if you don’t look too hard.

“You don’t get paid to stare,” says Drek, and whacks her on the back of the shoulder with the end of his filthy towel. Jyn almost seizes the towel and snaps it back in his face, but she’s not Jyn, not right now. She’s Giba, and she needs to keep her shit together. “Deal with the ‘troopers before any of this lot.”

“Yessir.” She’s scraped the Coruscant out of her voice with a razor, and approximated something like Cassian’s accent in its place, though she’s not entirely sure she’s getting the vowels right. In the corner, a Houk smashes his glass into the floor and howls with laughter, and the ‘troopers in front of her don’t even flinch. Something rich and smug swells in her chest. Knew it. They’re so used to this place they don’t even think to check scan-docs anymore. “Right away.”

Drek scoffs, and hauls his eight-armed self away back to the other end of the bar. Jyn lifts her chin to a handful of new bounty hunters that have just come in—“Be right with you, lovelies”—and slips down between the other bartenders, all of them considerably less human-looking, to the ‘troopers. 

“Sirs,” she says, and curls her forefinger and thumb into her apron pocket. “What can I get for you?”

One of the ‘troopers—sergeant by his colors, helmet off completely against regs in a non-controlled zone, birth-born human and not a clone by the color of his eyes—gives her a toe-to-top look that lingers around her hips and shoulders. “Nevarro sunrise,” he says, after a minute, and Jyn slips on an old mask, a smile from six years and seventeen planets ago, tapping the order into the touchscreen on her side of the bar counter. “Alky, what do you want?”

“You got any ale?” says the second ‘trooper,  definitely not XO material, birth-born with hair way too long to meet Core regs. Jyn puts a hand on her hip, cocks her head, lets the smile settle in on her face.

“Nothing I would serve you. Though—” She considers, tapping her finger to her hip, and a few stools away, Cassian, who’s been nursing a drink of his own for the last five hours playing the jealous ex, pushes his glass back. “I think I could probably wrangle you a Riosan mead out of the back if you really want something different.”

The second ‘trooper, the one with long hair, leans a little across the counter. “Could you now?”

There’s a scoff from the side. Jyn ignores it, props her elbows on the counter to lean in a little herself. She isn’t Jyn, not right now. She’s Giba, and Giba is a flirt. “Depends on if you’re gonna be nice.”

He has teeth that have been surgically sharpened, like a predator’s. Sharptooth says, “I can be nice if you’d like.”

She bops a finger to the point of his chin, and says, “I’ll go get you those drinks, then.”

“Giba—”

“I’m busy,” she says to Cassian, and aims directly for the back room behind the bar, dragging bottles out of the wall, popping the little bottle of sedative out of her pocket to conceal in her hand. Her fingers are trembling. She draws in air, sends it out in a slow wave, and after a beat, the shaking isn’t visible, for all she can feel the reverberating adrenalin rattling around inside her ribs.

She hates honeytraps. She hates them with every fiber of her being, but the thing with stormtroopers is that there just aren’t many ‘troopers out there that will openly let themselves be seduced by non-female bartenders, and that means she has to put on masks that she hates and play roles that have her nails gouging into the meat of her palms. She has to flirt and play pretend and not do what she wants to do, which is find a baton and cave in their skulls with the end of it, to hell with the bar and the mission and the information they need. She has to do all of that, and she has to do it with Cassian watching, impassive, and she doesn’t know if the thing shredding itself in her chest is her heart or her guts or her nerve or all three.

Over the comm that’s tucked into her ear, Cassian makes a huffy little noise, and says, “Typical,” just loud enough for the ‘troopers to overhear. There’s a hum of sound, and then: “Giba’s predictable, is all.”

Focus. Come on. “Predictable, huh.” She tucks the bottle of mead under her arm. “Dial it up a little? One of them has to take the bait or the last week getting all this ash in our clothes will have been completely pointless.”

There’s a beat of silence, the echo of audio that she can hear fuzzily through the walls of the back room, before he clears his throat in an assent. “Nothing, just that she runs after anything in a uniform.”

A crackle of static, and then she catches a little bit from one of the ‘troopers, the sergeant this time. “—that make you?”

She can picture it perfectly, Cassian spreading his hands in a what can you do gesture understood all over the galaxy. “Sanitation worker.”

The guffaw of the ‘troopers makes her teeth itch. “Sanitation? You’ve got to be joking, this hellhole has a sanitation crew? I thought everyone threw their shit into the lava.”

“Most people can’t get close enough to the flows to try,” says Cassian, and she thinks he might be injecting a little of Luke Skywalker’s enthusiasm into it, because she’s never heard Cassian this excited to talk about magma. “Most civilians don’t have the proper shielding equipment to be able to—”

“No wonder she dumped you,” says Sharptooth.

“Careful she doesn’t bite anything off when she takes you home,” says Cassian. “Though looks like you like that sort of thing.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

That’s her cue. Jyn slips out of the back room again, the Riosan mead in one hand, three glasses in the other, pausing just long enough for the ‘troopers to see her face flicker with annoyance. “Riff, I told you—”

It’s in moments like these where she knows how good of a weapon she snatched out of Draven’s arsenal a year ago, when he went AWOL with her aiming for Scarif. Cassian puts a hand to his chest, all wounded lover, eyes wide and wet, lips parted. Even with the limp and the slight hitch to his shoulders from his sore back, he’s every part of him Riff the jilted sanitation worker. She knows it’s an act, but still; the shredded, blistering pile in her insides gives a horrible little wrench of pain. “Giba, can we just—” 

“She doesn’t want to talk to you, sanitation,” says Sharptooth. The sergeant has completely tuned out, nursing the Nevarro sunrise someone must have brought him while she was hiding in the back. “You need me to get him out of here, sweetheart?”

“Oh, would you?” Jyn turns to Sharptooth. “Just—don’t break him, there’s—”

“I’m going, I’m going.” Cassian skitters out of reach of Sharptooth, knocking over his drink in the process. Sharptooth bolts out of his stool so he doesn’t get caught with the splatter, knocks into the sergeant, a blaster goes off—she thinks that might have been the Houk in the back—and Jyn seizes the sergeant’s Nevarro sunrise off the counter in just such a way that when she tips her hand, the sedative dribbles into his drink without anyone the wiser.

“I’m so sorry,” Jyn says, and seizes the nearest towel. “Get out of here, Riff—”

“I’m going, I’m going—” Cassian backs up. “Um—my tab—”

“Get out of here!”

“Gone,” says Cassian, and vanishes into the crowd of bounty hunters while Jyn sets the Nevarro sunrise back onto the counter in front of the sergeant.

While she wipes up the counter, the sergeant drains half of it in one drag.  

“I’m so sorry,” she says again, and lets some of the frustration show. “He just—he’s a nuisance, I wish I’d never gone out with him—”

“You deserve so much more than a sanitation worker, lovely,” says Sharptooth, and reaches out to stroke the backs of his gauntleted fingers down her cheek and throat. Jyn stays very still, and lets him, for all that it makes her heart kick up to dangerous speeds. ‘trooper fingers near her throat have never meant anything other than danger danger danger. She’s hardwired. She can’t not have her heart race. “You need somebody to show you a good time.”

“Oh?” She tosses the rag aside, and leans an elbow onto the counter. “Is that what you’re showing me?”

There’s an odd little sound over the comms. She thinks Cassian might have bit his tongue.

“Depends.” Sharptooth smiles again, his fangs too-white in the dim light of the bar. “What’s a good time look like for you?”

The sergeant makes a disgusted noise, and goes back to nursing his drink.

It takes a good ninety minutes for the sergeant to go unconscious. It’s not meant to be a fast-acting sedative; fast-acting ones draw attention that they don’t want, not on an imperial stronghold like this one. On top of that, every single person in here is a bounty hunter or worse; she doesn’t need anyone recognizing the symptoms of a knock-out vial. So she waits, circling back to top up the mead and Nevarro sunrises, until the sergeant’s head begins to dip lower and lower, his eyelids drooping. After an hour, he’s practically laying his entire body against the bartop; another thirty minutes after that, and he’s snoring, and Sharptooth huffs. “Shit, I didn’t realize those things were that strong.”

“Every drink is strong for the ‘troopers that keep us safe,” she says, smiling at him. “And sometimes humanoids have a stronger reaction to the alcohols we have in our Nevarro sunrises.”

“No shit,” says Sharptooth.

“If you like,” says Jyn, “I could just put him in the back to sleep it off. We got a room for guests we like, so they’re not out on the streets past curfew.”

He sucks his teeth, and considers. “Where’s that leave you?”

“Off shift,” she says, smiling and pretending she hasn’t gnawed her cheek bloody. “So…we could keep spending time together, if you wanted.”

Sharptooth’s pupils flare, and Jyn almost breaks his nose. She curls a hand tight around the glass she’s cleaning out, and hopes she doesn’t crack it. “Where’s this back room?”

“Just through there.” She points towards a filmy, beaded curtain that’s the only thing that separates Drek’s bar from the brothel just upstairs. “If you go and let them know that Drek says the sergeant needs a place to sleep things off, they’ll come collect him. And I can meet you outside?”

Sharptooth leans across the counter, just close enough that his breath puffs across her face. She’s proud to say her smile doesn’t wobble, but her face hurts from keeping it in place. “Sounds like a plan, gorgeous.”

Jyn keeps the smile in place until Sharptooth’s gone through the filmy curtain. Once it’s rattled back into place, she spits on the floor, and takes off her apron. “Hey, Drek?”

Drek, down the bar, doesn’t look at her. “What?”

“I quit,” she says, and slips out from behind the bar to grab her coat.

She waits in the alley they decided on a week ago, when she and Cassian first touched down on Nevarro with the goal of finding a way into the ‘trooper garrison being set up in Nevarro City. It’s mangy, a dumpster overflowing with garbage and smeared paint on the walls, but Jyn drapes her jacket—not for warmth, but to protect her arms from any potential burns from passing magma flows—over her shoulders and leans against the wall of the bar, just inside the lip of the alley.

“Breathe,” says Cassian, soft into her ear. If everything’s gone according to plan, he’s been stuck crouched down behind the dumpster for the last hour and a half, listening to her outrageous flirting and waiting for her to come out with one or both of the targets. Their best option is an XO, and they have that in the sergeant, but now it’s a matter of dealing with Sharptooth in a way that doesn’t set alarm bells ringing for the garrison. In the brothel, Chirrut—who somehow in the last week has made fantastic friends with everyone working upstairs—will be cloning every scan-doc and identifying code that the sergeant has, and putting them back exactly where he found them. In a few hours, the sergeant will wake up in bed with a sex worker they’ve hired just for this purpose, and never tell anyone about the time he got drunk at Drek’s and propositioned an alien. You don’t bed aliens and keep your job as a stormtrooper, even on the Outer Rim. “Almost through.”

Jyn clears her throat—they’ve long-since decided that means yes, when one of them can’t speak; a sneeze means no—and curls her hands in and out of fists. Her fingernails, stubby as they are, have left bruises on the flesh of her palms. “Shit.”

“Breathe,” says Cassian again, and it reverberates into her body the way drumbeats do, echoing and vibrating against her ribs. Breathe. They’ve done this, or something like this, a thousand times, and will do it a thousand times more. On and on until we win or the chances are spent. She takes a deep breath, and then another, and so when Sharptooth comes out of the bar, she’s smiling again with teeth she’s sucked clean of blood.

“Hey, stranger.”

It’s easy, in the end. She takes three steps back; Sharptooth follows her into the alley, just past the dumpster; and in an instant Cassian’s lunged. The stun gun has long prongs, modified for dents and gaps in ‘trooper armor, and Cassian’s got a sniper’s aim; Sharptooth doesn’t even seem to realize what hit him before he’s on the floor, eyes rolling back into his head. This time, the sedative they put down his throat is fast-acting. He’ll be snoring in the alley for the rest of the night.

They dump him behind the dumpster, trash with trash. Jyn allows herself exactly one retaliatory kick in Sharptooth’s ribs. “Bastard.”

Cassian’s smile is the hooked edge of a crescent moon. “Quick, before someone sees—”

They snag the scan-docs—along with his credit chit, the plate armor, his blaster—a mugging; make them think it’s a mugging and no one will wonder about everything that’s missing—and Jyn’s just stowed what looks like a fairly pricy bit of flashy jewelry that’s also not standard Core World regs when there’s a scuffing at the head of the alley. It doesn’t matter who it is. They can’t be seen standing over an unconscious ‘trooper, even one like Sharptooth.

It's not a thought, or a question. It’s training and instinct, more than anything else. Jyn seizes Cassian by the wrist, and tugs him close to her, stepping back in the same moment so she’s pressed against the dumpster, so there’s a clang of body on body on metal, and whoever is at the head of the alley will see limbs and clothes and two figures hauled in close together in the dark. It’s only after she’s done it that she realizes her mistake; that in pulling him forward and in so fast she might have jostled his back; that now it’s Cassian drawn close into her, breath puffing against her face, the warmth of him too much on this stupid magma ball of a planet, smelling of skin and sharp smoke and capsaicin.

“Stay still,” he says, almost inaudible.

Jyn can’t speak. She looks up at him, at the line of his jaw, and swallows. Cassian must notice, because his eyes shift from the head of the alley down to her face. There’s no lighting in the alley, but one of the signs for the bar casts a dim red glow that reflects in his eyes. She can’t make out his expression. His face is spy-quiet.

“Hello?”

It’s Drek. Cassian doesn’t look away from her. He shifts, ever so slightly, and there’s a question on his mouth.

Jyn goes up on her toes, and kisses him.

It’s not an actual kiss. She tells herself this even as it happens, even as warmth blooms in her throat, down her limbs, too much in the wake of the magma flow beside Nevarro City, a thrum of something she can’t identify. It’s a mask. Another mask, like they’ve both been wearing all night. Cassian draws in air through his nose, and then tangles a hand in the hair at the back of her head, pulling her closer into him, and the second kiss isn’t a kiss either. There’s a star going supernova in her chest. Jyn pushes herself higher on her toes, hooks an arm around his neck, kisses him open-mouthed and messy, because it’s an alley, but it’s also not a kiss, but it’s Cassian, and there’s something tight in her throat that might be close to tears when he cups his other hand so gentle against the nape of her neck, petting against the thrum of her pulse with his blistered thumb.

“Horny idiots,” Drek mutters, and there’s a bang as he tosses something into the dumpster. Cassian doesn’t jerk away. If anything, he pulls her closer into him, a third kiss, and then a fourth, and Jyn can’t hear Drek walking away. Her heart is racing in her ears.

It’s only after a door has closed that Cassian pulls back, only enough to wet his lips, searching her face.

“He’s gone.”

Jyn grips the fabric of his shirt for a long moment. Then, carefully, she unclenches, one finger after the other, letting him go.

“Good,” she says, and looks away. “Let’s get the hell off this mudball.”

She seizes the bag, and bolts down the alley, her mouth tattooed with something she can’t take back.

[leapingbadger]

Buried (A CodyWan Story)

Summary: Cody tried to keep his feelings for Obi Wan buried deep until unforeseen circumstances bring them to the forefront.

Cody huffed as he came to sit down next to Rex. The 501st and 212th milled around amongst the scattered pieces of battle droids. The hot triple suns of this maker forsaken system were beating down on them. They sat at the base of an immense spire belonging to the ancient, and long since dead, occupants of the planet.

A rabid battle continued in space above the planet but here on the ground, the fight was over. They had suffered fewer casualties than expected and the men had taken on a celebratory mood, some playing with the heads of decapitated droids. One clone was using a battle droid’s leg as a crutch as he carried his injured self to the medics.

Cody groaned as he stretched his right leg out in front of him and started taking off pieces of his armor. He wouldn’t make it to the med tent until he took a look himself. He’d have to wait weeks for replacement blacks. The GAR were stretched thin these days and so were supplies.

“What happened to you?” Rex asked, taking a bite of a ration stick.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Cody said with a shrug, removing the final piece of armor from his thigh to reveal a deep gash. “Karabast,” he muttered under his breath.

Rex hissed through his teeth “Looks painful.”  He said matter-of-factly, peering at the injury.

Cody chuckled and laid his helmet on the ground, “It only hurts when I move it, or touch it…or breath,” he said as he adjusted his position and took a sharp intake of breath.

“Should I call Kenobi over? Maybe he can do some of his force magic on it.” Rex said, looking ten meters away to where Generals’ Kenobi and Skywalker were chatting with some of the men.

Cody sighed, “that’s not how the force works, Rex. You know that.”

Rex lowered his voice, “Well, maybe he can kiss it better then.” He said with a raised eyebrow.

“What?” Cody asked angrily, feeling a deep sense of panic clench somewhere deep inside his chest. He tried to keep his eyes off the General and failed.

“What’s going on with you two?” Rex asked, even quieter this time.

Cody looked around, thankful to realize there was no one else within the vicinity, which was perhaps why Rex was feeling so bold. He took another bite of his ration stick and continued to look at Cody as he chewed.

“Nothing,” the Commander said.

Rex raised both eyebrows now, suspiciously.

“Nothing. He’s my boss. My general,” Cody said in a low voice, wishing his hammering heartbeat and the heat growing in his cheeks didn’t betray him quite as much as it did.

“Sounds like you’re pretty possessive.” Rex said. “I’ve seen the way you look at him.”

Cody scoffed, perhaps too loudly as a few heads turned in their direction, “and how is that?” he asked sarcastically.

“Like you want to rip off his armor and see how he handles something other than a lightsaber,” Rex said with a grin. He was enjoying himself, and Cody felt a sudden loathing towards his formerly favorite brother.

“Rex, come on.” He said, trying desperately to keep his voice even and again failing.

“Hey, no judgement, Vod. Do whatever or whoever makes you happy. Besides, I’ve seen the way he looks at you too.”

“Rex, he doesn’t look at me like anything,” Cody said. He desperately wanted to know what Rex had observed though and if it matched with Cody’s experience of his sometimes confusing interactions with the Jedi.

“He looks at you like you’re the only man in the galaxy, in a sea of men who look exactly like you.” Rex said, a soft smile on his lips.

Cody felt a flush up to his ears and had to fight the urge to tell his brother everything. How he felt electricity course through his body whenever his fingers accidentally grazed Obi Wan’s as he gave him back his lightsaber.

Or how he blushed under his helmet when they were pinned down in a fire fight and the General stood over him, hand on his shoulder, lightsaber aloft protectively.

Or how the way the General’s accent pronounced his name and made him feel like his knees would buckle underneath him. And how it had always been that way, since the beginning.

But he couldn’t tell Rex that. He couldn’t even admit to himself that he felt it.

“I dunno what you’re talking about, Rex.” He said instead, a little part of himself dying as he realized he couldn’t share his secret with his closest brother. Not yet.

“Whatever you say, Vod,” Rex said with a squeeze to his shoulder. He finished munching on the final part of his ration bar before screwing the wrapper up in his hands and getting up with a grunt. He gave a little salute. “Don’t wait forever. I know some other Vod who want a crack at him,” he said and he headed towards his men.

Cody let out a breath and shifted his weight as his leg started to go numb. He really should get to the med tent but the thought of getting up right now wasn’t an appealing one. He kept his eyes low, tracing the movements of the troops, the generals…his general.

Obi Wan noticed him and raised his hand in greeting as he made his way towards him. “There you are, Cody.” Obi Wan said.

Cody couldn’t help but linger on the sound of his name on the other man’s lips. The warm, soothing huskiness and the smile that broke out on his bearded face. “Do you need something, Sir?” Cody asked seriously, pushing himself to stand and wincing as the gash in his leg stretched apart, leaving a new pool of blood seeping into his blacks.

“You’re injured,” Obi Wan said, His forehead furrowed in concern.

“It’s nothing, Sir.” Cody said and he tried to take a step and stumbled. Obi Wan’s reflexes caught him quickly and gently lowered him back onto the ground.

Cody’s whole body felt like it was on fire as Obi Wan wrapped his arms around him to gently ease him to the ground. His face was so close to him now. He felt his breath of his cheek and tried to suppress the heat rising in his cheeks. Over Kenobi’s shoulder he saw Rex turn to look, a sly smile on his face as he nodded approvingly.

“I think, perhaps, you should sit for a moment.” The Jedi said with a smile. “May I take a look?”

“It’s really fine, Sir. I can make it to the med tent. I just…” Cody’s words were cut off by the ear splitting shriek of an enemy ship that careened through the sky and into the middle of the spire directly behind Cody and Obi Wan.

Everything happened in slow motion as Cody desperately tried to push Obi Wan out of the way until he realized he couldn’t get up. The impact exploded into a cloud of dust and rock that thundered down upon them with the remnants of the ship and the heavily carved pillar. Cody was halfway to the Jedi before he realized Obi Wan was reaching out for him as well. He threw his body over Cody as the roaring sound of debris drowned out the shouts from the surrounding men.

Cody coughed and hesitantly opened his eyes to blackness. Obi Wan was on top of him shielding his body with his own, his chest heaving as he panted. Cody’s leg was screaming at him.

“Are you okay, Commander?” Obi Wan asked, his mouth close to the side of Cody’s face and still strangely quiet. Cody realized the continuous ringing noise in his ears was dulling the Jedi’s voice.

“Ah, I’m fine, Sir.” The Commander said, trying desperately to convey strength or even indifference but wasn’t sure he was pulling it off. His voice was ragged, his breaths heavy.

“Here,” Obi Wan said, fumbling in the dark until Cody heard the crack hiss and saw the brilliant green glow of his lightsaber.

He shrank away from the light as Obi Wan laid the saber on the ground. The constant thrumming  sound had become oddly comforting in the last few months and Cody was finally able to take a full breath and look around.

They were in a small pocket of rubble, not tall enough to stand up in but spacious enough for them to sit and not have to bend over.

“Looks like we got lucky, Sir,” Cody said, reaching up and carefully touching the stone above his head.

“Ah, not quite, Commander. I’m afraid that is my doing and while I can keep it up for a while, we will eventually need someone to dig us out.”

“Is it…difficult?” Cody asked, curiosity getting the best of him.

“No,” Obi Wan said cautiously, “but it does require a modicum of concentration.”

“I can comm Rex and…” Cody looked around for his helmet, only to realize it was likely buried in the rubble.

Obi Wan pressed a button on his gauntlet but the familiar tinging noise announcing a connection didn’t sound. They were completely cut off.

“I’m afraid we’re on our own, Commander,” Obi Wan said, his warm smile giving no hint of the precarious situation they found themselves in. “First things first, we need to tend to your leg,”

Cody had almost forgotten about the slash on his leg or the fact that the collapse and desperation to get out of the way had caused greater damage. As his eyes went to it he felt a throb. Blood was now pooling on the floor of their safe haven.

Obi Wan crouched next to him, bringing the light of the saber closer to his leg to inspect it.

“Well, I could cauterize the wound,” he said pleasantly enough, looking up at Cody’s wide eyes with a grin, “but perhaps we should make that plan B.” he said

“You’re teasing me, Sir?” Cody asked, a grin spreading on his lips.

“My apologies, Cody.” Obi Wan said, raising his eyes and pausing and he looked at his Commander.

“What?” Cody asked, suddenly self conscious under the Jedi’s gaze.

Obi Wan chuckled, “I’m not sure I’ve seen you smile before.” He said wistfully. “It looks good on you.”

Cody blushed in the green glow of the lightsaber. “It does happen from time to time, Sir.” He said.

“Enough of the Sir, Cody. Please, call me Obi Wan.”

“Yes, S…I mean, Yes, Obi Wan” he said, struggling to keep the flitters in his stomach at bay. Could the Jedi sense them. Did he know?

Obi Wan used the force to rip the fabric away from Cody’s wound, making a large hole in the fabric of his blacks. Blood pooled around the fabric and dripped down the side of his thigh.

“Here,”  The Jedi said, ripping the sleeve off his robs and ripping it in half again. Cody was shocked to see the firm, taught muscles of Obi Wan’s right arm and wondered what the rest of him looked like under his expansive robes.

“Are you able to lift you leg so I may get under it?” The Jedi continued.

Cody nodded and winced as his muscles shrieked at him, Obi Wan quickly snuck the fabric underneath and tied a tourniquet. The pressure was uncomfortable, but the pain lessened quickly.

“I’m afraid I don’t have anything for the pain, Cody.”

“It’s okay, Sir. I’ve had worse.” The clone said, letting out a breath.

“I imagine you have. I could teach you some meditation if you like, it might…”

“Ah, no thank you, Sir.” Cody said. Obi Wan nodded his understanding and Cody suddenly wondered if he had been rude. “Maybe we could just talk,” he said.

Obi Wan smiled and sat up straighter, “I would like that very much,” he said.

Time passed slowly but Cody didn’t mind. He never got this much alone time with Obi Wan and he relished it. He listened as the Jedi told him about his life before the temple, vague memories of a brother he would never know and the sense of family the Jedi order gave him. He spoke of the loss of his master, his struggle with his grief and the peace the force brought him.

He asked Cody of his upbringing on Kamino, his treatment by the Kaminoans’ and his hopes and dreams after the war ended. Cody didn’t have an answer. War was all he’d know and all he was made for.

“I find that very hard to believe, Cody. You may have been created for one thing, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t capable of other things as well. You are brave, honorable, loyal, strong and intelligent. I have no doubt you could do anything you wanted in the galaxy once this retched war ends.”

“Thank you, Sir.” He caught Obi Wan’s raised eyebrow and corrected himself, “Obi Wan.” He said with a smile. “I am content to serve you…and the republic…for the rest of my days.”

Obi Wan cocked his head to the side, his blue eyes intense in the glow of the lightsaber that still hummed in the background.

“I believe you would, Cody. But I hope that is not your fate.” Cody hung his head, feeling surprisingly disappointed by Obi Wan’s words. “Please don’t misunderstand me. I would love nothing more than to have you by my side but…there is more to the galaxy than the Jedi and the War.”

“Not to me, Sir.” Cody said under his breath. “I…I…”

“Obi Wan? Can you hear me?” Anakin Skywalker’s booming voice sounded and cut Cody off. Perhaps it was for the best, he thought.

“Anakin, Yes, we are here and Cody is injured. Make sure you have a medic and…”

The walls of the structure shook and the rocks and debris surrounding them shifted and rumbled,

“Anakin stop what your…”

A loud crash sounded again as the walls collapsed on top of them. Obi Wan again dove over Cody, His body shielding the Commander. Cody felt the heat of his body of top of his chest, his hands covering his head.

Obi Wan’s attention was solely on keeping Cody safe, so much so that he wasn’t able to protect himself when a small bolder slammed into the side of his head.

He fell to the floor with a “oof” and it was Cody turn to shield him and the rocks continued to move. He rolled on top of him, ignoring the protest from his bad leg, curling over his chest and head. The lightsaber hummed and clashed, and the rocks fell against it and were severed in two. Cody reached for it, shutting it off and attaching the hilt to his belt for safe keeping.

“Obi Wan?” Cody said frantically.  Blood was pouring out of the Jedi’s temple, a large bump forming on the side of his forehead. Cody put his hand on the Jedi’s cheek, feeling for the first time how impossibly soft his beard was.

He shook his head to try and bring him back to the present, “General Skywalker. You need to stop moving the rocks. They’re falling and have injured the General.”

“Is he okay?” Skywalker called.

Cody rolled his eyes and the impetuous Jedi. Of course not, he thought angrily. “No” he shouted back.

“Obi Wan?” Cody tried again. A groan escaped the Jedi’s lips and Cody let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Cody?” Obi Wan said, his hand reaching up and gently tracing the scar on the left side of his face. Cody froze, conscious of the fact that his face was centimeters from his General’s as they both caressed the others’ faces. Cody should move his hand from Obi Wan’s face but didn’t want to.

“I’m here, Obi Wan.” He rasped.

The side of the Jedi’s face was covered in blood, but nothing could cover his smile. “I’m glad, my dear Commander.” He said quietly.

Cody’s eyes flicked from Obi Wan’s sharp blue gaze to his soft parted lips. He wanted nothing more than to kiss him. To rejoice in the fact that he was alive and talked, and looking at him like that. But a seed of doubt sat in the back of his mind. What if he was rejected? What if he ruined everything? What if he was reassigned and he’d never get to see him again.

Cody could stand pining for the Jedi, he wasn’t sure what he’d do if he couldn’t be in his presence every day.

Obi Wan held Cody’s gaze and seemed to know the internal struggle going on behind his chestnut eyes.

“You are conflicted,” he said quietly.

Cody nodded.

“You don’t need to be,” he said with a smile.

Before his brain could catch up with his body Cody pressed his lips to Obi Wans and a rush of heat coursed through his body. Both hands held the Jedi’s face. His injury no longer existed. He tasted the copper of Obi Wan’s blood, and he didn’t care. He wouldn’t have cared if the whole structure collapsed on top of them, as long as they could stay here like this, forever.

Obi Wan’s hand traveled to the back of Cody’s head, pulling him closer, deeper. He could feel his General’s heart hammering in his chest.

When they finally broke apart Obi Wan’s bright eyes were fixed to his Commander’s. “I was hoping we’d get here eventually.” He said his usually even voice gruff, hungry.

He reached up again to trace his fingers delicately on Cody’s scarred forehead before pulling the fabric of his sleeve up to his face and gently wiping his own blood from the Commander’s mouth.

Cody heard the rubble move again and tensed over the General as the piercing brightness of daylight burst into their small pocket refuge. He sat up as the rocks slowly floated up and away, revealing Anakin Skywalker, eyes closed, arms outstretched.

Obi Wan eased himself up onto his elbow, “Nice of you to show up, Anakin.” He said with a sardonic smile.

“How many times have I saved you now?” the Jedi asked with a superior grin.

Obi Wan chuckled as Cody felt a bubbling irritation with the cocky Jedi. “I wouldn’t have needed saving had you not dropped more rocks on us,” Obi Wan said with a conspiratorial smile at Cody. Cody returned a brief smile before snapping back into Commander mode.

They were quickly helped to the med tent. Cody’s thigh was wrapped tightly with bandages, making it feel stiff and awkward. He was glad to no longer be in pain though, and reveled in the fact that he could take a moment to relax and lie down.

He looked to his right. The General was on the next bed, his sandy hair falling over his closed eyes. “I assure you I am okay, Commander,” he said without turning towards Cody.

Cody chuckled, “Glad to hear it, Sir.”

“Is that another smile, Commander?” Obi Wan asked teasingly, turning to look at Cody, propping himself up on his elbow and giving the most inviting bedroom eyes Cody had ever seen. He suppressed the desire to get up and climb into the neighboring bed.

“They do happen occasionally, Sir. In certain company.”

Obi Wan blushed ever so slightly and Cody’s heart exploded, “Glad to hear it, Cody.” He said, “glad to hear it.”

[sinisterexaggerator]

I'll Put It On Your Tab

Wrecker x Gen! Reader

Warnings: Threats made with a blaster. Violence. Attempted robbery. A broken bone or two. Fluff, and a kiss. "Established" relationship vibes.

962 words

Notes: I decided to write a series of "goodbye" ficlets where the reader takes / removes something from each of CF99 as they part ways, however this one deviated a little bit from that path. In this case, the story is left open-ended.

For you, @allsystemsblue. I know you love Wreck. :D

Crosshair || Echo || Hunter || Tech

---

“I don’t want any trouble,” you pleaded, hands held high above your shoulders with arms bent at the elbows. The masked man before you held his blaster level with your abdomen, making a motion for you to fill his sack with all your credits.

“Everything,” he growled. “Put it in the bag.”

Trembling, you rushed to comply, your hard-earned money being forfeit to this brute who was sure to kill you if you did not obey his brusque command.

Your business was Mantell Mix in Ord Mantell City; you barely made ends meet as a simple street vendor. You had a few faithful customers, some more so than others, but otherwise you lived day-to-day off cartons sold. He was sure to clean you out; you would have to eat your product or starve until tomorrow, though the alternative was death.

You supposed you might just count your blessings and be thankful should he keep his word and spare you.

“Hurry up!” he barked; you jumped despite yourself, dropping your remaining profits on the ground for them to scatter at his feet. You gasped, afraid for any repercussions, immediately falling to your knees before him to quickly gather what you could to placate the increasingly impatient man.

“Karkin’ imbecile!” he hissed, pushing you backward by the heel of his boot. You fell onto your rump, staring up with horrified, wide eyes as he took aim at the space between them, tears threatening to fall as your heart crashed wildly behind your ribs.

“I’m sorry—” you began, tilting your head farther, fear expelled to be replaced with elation as your knight in not-so-shining armor loomed above your attacker, massive arms folded across the broad expanse of his chest.

“Is this guy bothering you?” Wrecker asked, almost comically so. He could not help himself, loving to make an entrance, no matter how dire the situation, it seemed.

“Yes!” you exclaimed, scurrying back on the palms of your hands before you attempted to stand. In that same moment, the perp and his half-filled sack of money swung around, Wrecker squeezing the barrel of his blaster so tightly, that he crushed it under the pressure of his fist.

“Why don’t you pick on someone your own size,” the clone demanded beneath his bucket, though this man was nowhere near the height of your darling hero. You watched with bated breath, your would-be robber struggling in vain within his grasp, his mutilated weapon tumbling awkwardly from his grip.

The sack of money had been abandoned, your assailant of the mind he would need both hands to ward off this towering giant who had made it his job to protect you. Though you thought to retrieve what was yours, you did not move a single muscle, watching the scene unfold as you silently thanked your lucky stars.

“Piss off!” the thug seethed, a flurry of motions catching your attention; something glinted in the streetlight above your humble cart.

“Wrecker!” you cried out, a hidden blade unsheathed. He appreciated your warning, but it was not necessary.

A twist and then a crack. The knife was just as easily discarded. The man screamed, though his cry of pain was momentary. Wrecker’s plastoid helmet had met with his skull, knocking him flat in the dirt with a resounding thud.

As soon as he was down for the count, you endeavored to wrap yourself around him; you hugged your rescuer as tightly as you could, though your arms would not even begin to enclose the entirety of his waist.

“Thank you,” you breathed, gazing up. Wrecker chortled nervously, rubbing the back of his head absentmindedly, even though his gear was in the way.

“Aww, it wasn’t nothing.” He shyly brushed away your gratitude. Wrecker always felt that way with you – shy -  though he was not sure what it meant.

You reached; you wanted to see his handsome face. He was beautiful to you, regardless of his many scars.

Wrecker obliged, craning his neck so that you might remove his helmet and set it off to the side. He smiled down at you, a twinkle sparkling in the umber depths of his good eye.

For a moment, he seemed proud. “I sure showed him!” he announced happily.

“You did,” you assured him kindly, unable to help yourself as you traced the raised lines spidering across his skin. You repaid his smile with one of your own, turning to rummage through your cart.

“I have something for you,” you said, withdrawing a fresh carton of his favorite treat. You took a piece between your fingers and offered it to him. He hesitated, finally bending down to gingerly take the small kernel between his teeth.

“Mmm,” he hummed, politely chewing with his mouth closed.  You offered another, this time replacing it with a press of your lips to his when he least expected.

Wrecker’s eyes rounded to saucers before he gradually relaxed, the surprisingly gentle man taking up either side of your face in the curves of his palms. His fingers came to rest just beneath your ears, the rebel clone using this opportunity to draw you in.

“This is better than Mantell Mix,” he mumbled against you; you tried to suppress a laugh, having meant to deepen your connection.

Instead, you grinned, opening eyes that had been shut so that you could lovingly regard him. You returned your hand to his face, cradling his jaw. “I owe you my life,” you whispered.

You thought you saw a hint of a blush as he stumbled to reply. "Uhhh- I'll settle for that," he bashfully requested.

You could barely contain your glee as you rose up on your tiptoes to kiss him one more time. "I'll put it on your tab,” you quipped playfully.

[mori-does-sw]

Of Hell May Smile

PAIRING(S) \ Vampire!Marshall Commander Fox x GN!Reader SYNOPSIS \ You've got an agreement with the Coruscant Guard, an agreement that Fox is looking to cash out on for the usual reasons as well as some more... personal ones. WARNING(S) \ Very brief horror, detailed descriptions of blood and blood drinking, minor injury, description of altered mental states (vampire spit is drugs), some very minor suggestive content A/N \ I saw a vampire Fox post once and I think it changed my brain chemistry. This man has me by the throat at All Times and I am unashamed of that fact lmao. So, anyways, here's exactly 1500 words of my own spin on that idea in honor of spooky month!

It’s when they start turning out the lights for the night that the Senate archives, usually a place of refuge from sneering politicians and throngs of reporters, becomes ominous. You always feel on-edge, walking through the darkened halls with only the flashlight on your datapad and the sound of your own footsteps for company.

But you aren’t a child anymore, you tell yourself; There aren’t any monsters going to jump out of the nearest shadow to get you. You aren’t still afraid of the dark. That would be ridiculous.

That’s why, when a shadow detaches from the wall, you’re primed and ready to send the datapad on hand flying in its direction. It misses, and faster than you can open your mouth to voice your terror, they slap a hand over your lips and start dragging you back into their hiding spot.

Instinctively, you claw at your attacker’s shoulders only for your nails to slide harmlessly down smooth, cool plastoid. A stab of startling clarity, and your eyes are darting to the sword-and-cog insignia emblazoned in red across his pauldron. Higher up, to a familiar helmet with a familiar color scheme—Fox.

The fight leaves you so quickly you sag in his grip, a moment of weakness he readily abuses to drag you further into the alcove. You register your shoulders hitting the wall, then your back, until the bulk of his armor is pressing you deep into the shadows.

“Can I help you, commander?” you finally work up the courage to ask, unable to soften the bite from your words. His silence makes it hard to calm your racing nerves, to pull your thoughts together, to think at all.

Your quickened breathing is loud in the small space between you. The pop of his helmet’s airtight seal is louder. You flinch at the sudden noise, but go still when one of his hands starts to rub soothing circles into your hip bone. With the other, he lifts his helmet off and lets it fall to the ground, clattering loudly and then rolling into your ankle.

There’s a long pause, and then: “I’m hungry.”

“... Ah.”

Fox has always taken great care to maintain the facade of the infallible commander of the guard, the model clone trooper complete with a regulation haircut and the emotional range of wet cardboard. The headlines call him steadfast, the citizens, cold-blooded; His quarry can only say he’s terrifying.

In this moment, he’s desperate. Vulnerable. Any anger beginning to brew from his rude surprise cools at the sight.

His whole body is trembling, almost vibrating, and his eyes are so far blown that they’re almost totally black. His skin has turned colorless and ashy, corpse-like, and its frigidity can be felt through the thick fabric of his gloves. 

Fox’s mouth is slightly parted, the distended tips of his fangs pressing into his bottom lip. You can’t tear yourself away from the sight, darkly fascinated by the way they gleam wetly with saliva. You can feel the blood rushing through your body, drumming in the places where your veins lay beneath your skin. Where you know he’ll sink his teeth.

You swallow heavily, your fear replaced by a not dissimilar, but altogether different thrill.

The clones of the Coruscant Guard have been on the receiving end of the public’s… curiosity. Whispers abound, they say that the guards never take off their helmets. That the workload is too heavy for their number, that they must go days without sleeping to keep up; Some claim that they don’t breathe.

Even before you knew what, exactly, made them the way they are, you agreed with the general sentiment: There is something incredibly eerie about the Coruscant Guard.

The chill of Fox’s skin makes you shiver as his nose bumps against your jaw. He inhales raggedly, his breastplate digging more firmly into your skin with the motion.

“Your heart is beating very fast.” He sounds off, dazed like he’s already half-drunk with blood. Your pulse kicks up even higher when he presses his mouth to that soft spot under your jaw to feel it.

You must make some noise, because after a moment he pulls away. The heat of Fox’s gaze bores into you even when you can’t meet his eyes.

“Am I scaring you?”

“... No.”

For all that you’d been doing this for several months you’d never been approached by Fox in the same way as his vode. Others who’d taken the agreement—credits for your blood and discretion—had offered and been turned down. If the shinies who stayed back to chat were to be believed, he only fed from his closest compatriots.

That doesn’t mean you haven’t noticed the weight of Fox’s gaze on you, observing you like he can’t help himself. You haven’t wondered what his bite would feel like, if he’d be as sweet and apologetic as some of the younger Corries, or whip-fast and to-the-point like Commander Stone. You haven’t considered if he’d want you to feel just as good as him.

It feels like you’ve swallowed sand, with how dry your mouth is. Every inhale whistles through your esophagus, which, in the meantime, feels like it’s been scraped raw. Your face is uncomfortably hot. Fox’s thumb is still swirling hypnotic, utterly damning circles against your hip.

Licking your lips, you try to smile. “I can handle it, if you promise to be gentle.”

The first prick of his fangs stills you; You’re biting your lip to keep quiet. But as Fox continues to sink his teeth into the column of your neck, you can’t help the soft whine that escapes your lips. He hums low in his throat, one hand sliding up to cradle the back of your head. He tilts it gently away from where he’s fixed, lessening some of the pressure.

Being held my him doesn’t hurt. It’s barely uncomfortable. And after a moment, the bite stops being painful too—ebbing away as a heated flush slowly spreads through your body.

You can feel blood pooling around the punctures and sliding down your neck. Fox laps it up hungrily. Much like the rest of him, his tongue is cold, and it feels odd passing over your skin.

The longer he feeds, the more pronounced the effects it has on you become. Your memory of Thire’s explanation escapes you, something about sedatives and happy chemicals that keep their prey pliant. It feels like your brain is melting, thoughts slipping from your grasp like water dripping through a sieve. You blink multiple times, hard, and distantly note how your vision has gone fuzzy at the edges. 

You think you should be frightened by this, but you can’t figure out why. Fox has you; You’re warm, safe, and perfectly content to go boneless in his hold for as long as he wants you there.

After an indeterminable amount of time, you’re roused by a strange sensation reverberating through your chest. It takes an embarrassing amount of time for you to realize that Fox is purring.

Many times you’ve done this, and not once has a Corrie purred like they’re shaking apart, trying to fit you inside their ribcage and keep you there. 

“Oooh, the big bad commander is getting soft,” You giggle drunkenly. 

“Pipe down. You’re just—warm,” he mutters, brusque tone belying the way he fists the back of your uniform in his attempt to press closer. Seeing as he’s already pinned you bodily down, Fox isn’t very successful. Nevertheless, his satisfaction is clear when he starts purring louder.

“That’s just because your body sucks.”

A pang of disappointment shoots through you when Fox finally pulls back. His breathing is slow, but heavy, and he’s still curled into you like gravity is pulling him in. Your brain is still too addled to control the pathetic whimper that slips out at the loss of proximity. 

Fox chuckles raspily, moving to dot kisses like freckles across your cheeks. Your legs are wobbling, fawn-like, and when he steps back you have to grab him again, lest you keel over and onto the duracrete floor.

Fox is looking much better. There’s a healthy flush to his face that speaks to the new blood flowing through his system, and his eyes have returned to their normal brown. The relaxed set of his mouth, however, dips down into a frown as he surveys you.

“... I got greedy, took more than I needed. My apologies.”

“It’s okay,” you sigh, “You needed it.”

Your eyes keep sliding closed without your permission, but, more lucid now, you manage to prop one eye open and fix him with a coy look. “However, I wouldn’t mind someone taking responsibility for his actions and helping me back to my flat.”

“Yeah,” Fox murmurs, pressing a coppery kiss beside his weeping bite mark. You can feel him smirking against your tender, abused flesh, and shiver. “I can take care of you.”

When the lights finally click off and plunge you into pitch-black darkness, Fox silences your startled shout with his own mouth.

[awkward-tension-art]

Bacta and Bandages Chp.8 (Rex x Reader)

Chapter 7. Chapter 9.

Drosaria

CW: Slow burn, Two fools trying to ignore their crushes, canon typical violence, clone death, underground caves, non-canon planet and species, talk of unfair treatment of clones, Reader is gender neutral, no use of (Y/N), reader is a doctor, if I miss a tag LMK!

Tag list (Thank you!): @heavenseed76 @arctrooper69 @ghostlyembassy @notgonnaedit

The planet of Drosaria used to be a beautiful planet teeming with life. However, hundreds of years of war, bombs and death had caused the once gorgeous planet to ice over. The population, Pantoran colonizers, fled to the underground to escape the cold. Over the years, the survivors formed their own culture, identity and adaptations.

These former Pantorans are called the Drosari. 

The entirety of Drosari civilization is underground. Cities are connected by miles of caves, caverns and underground pathways. 

Your eyes roamed over the article you found. The 501st, along with the 212th and 41st elite Corps had been dispatched to the outer rim planet. While the Resolute was in hyperspace, you did some reading on your destination.

You’ve learned from Rex that several Drosari cities had been destroyed by separatists, and mining had begun to take root, causing cave-ins. 

One wrong rock broken by mining equipment could send an entire cavern down. Only the Drosari could break the stone walls without causing devastation, due to their skills and understanding of their own home.

The Drosari matriarch had pleaded with the Council for aid, giving up the planet's neutral status in order to receive help.

So the Jedi sent Generals Skywalker, who would take the ground, and Kenobi, who would take the surrounding space.

Go in, destroy the droids, arrest whoever is in charge of the mining operation, stop the separatists, and fly off to the next planet. 

Easy enough. 

Judging by the time, you and Kix needed to get to the hangar. Stretching your arms above your head, you prepared your packs with medical supplies. 

Bandages, tourniquets, laser cauterizers, laser scalpel, bacta, patches, emergency suture kits…

You weren't expecting a bloodbath. The only active threat was going to be the droids. Though, cave-ins were something to consider. 

“Ready, Doctor?” Kix asked, waiting by the door for you. 

You nodded, adjusting your gauntlet. You hoped the comlink would work underground, communication would be difficult otherwise. “I’m good, let's go.” Your words were determined and resolute, walking out of the med bay.

The two of you made it to the hangar, already soldiers were preparing to get to the ground. You’ve gotten used to the chaos that occurs before each mission. Troopers rushed around, finding their places before going planet-side.

You and Kix split up, each going to your own designated LAAT’s. Commander Ahsoka stepped up next to you, followed by Fives and Jesse. 

The Commander didn’t entirely look excited.

“You alright, Commander?” You raised a brow, looking down at her in slight worry. 

“She lost 3 games of Sabacc, to Jesse.” Fives answered for her, “in a row.”

The mentioned clone had a smirk on his face as he got his helmet on, however, he remained silent. 

Ahsoka grumbled, “He cheated. I don’t know how, but he cheated.”

You laughed softly as the gunship carrying everyone lifted. The ride would be bumpy, as flying through a blizzard wasn’t the easiest thing. Luckily, the Drosari actually had several protected openings into the caves that were large enough for some ships to land in.

Didn’t make the flying much smoother though. The LAAT damn near tipped on its side the moment it hit atmosphere. After the gunship corrected, Oddball came in through Ahsoka’s com. 

“Sorry, windshear.” was all he said before cutting off. 

Lovely. You shared a look with Fives. Despite wearing his helmet, you could tell he was tense and slightly panicked. You pat his arm in comfort before grabbing the handle above you when the ship lurched again. 

The entire ride was unsteady, and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding as soon as you landed and stepped off. 

Solid ground. Thank all the gods in the galaxy. 

Ahsoka joined Anakin and Rex, who were already speaking to an ornately dressed Drosari. She had light blue skin marked with tattoos and jewels, mint colored hair woven with crystals and even from a distance she had an air of regality. 

All around you were high multicolored stone and marble walls dotted by crystals and coral-like rock. Above your heads was a large opening that led to the snowy tundra outside. Icicles reached down from the high ceiling, looking both beautiful and deadly.

You met up with Kix again and waited as the Jedi, Captain and Matriarch strategized. They were looking over a holomap, eyes roaming the winding paths and cave systems that connected the Drosari cities. 

Rex, Ahsoka and Anakin were probably thinking of some insane plan that would overwhelm the separatists and bring victory. 

Hopefully.

Not a minute later, orders were given.

The entire Legion would be split up into smaller squads to navigate the caves and caverns. Everyone would take a different path before all converging onto the remains of the closest Drosari city that had been taken over.

It would be impossible for you and Kix to help every single squad, so the two of you weaved between them as they formed and gave some first-aid supplies. Mostly bandages, tourniquets and some bacta, but it was better than nothing.

You would be with Rex’s squad. Kix with Ahsoka’s. Fives went with Anakin. Jesse had his own squad. Echo and Hardcase as well.

After some preparations, everyone moved out.

The 501st captain took the front, while you remained behind the troopers. Despite being underground, the caves were alight with glowing crystals and coral-like rocks embedded in the stone walls. It was a rather pretty sight. 

Despite how lovely your surroundings were, you kept a hand hovered over your pistol as you walked. 

Nere slowed down to walk beside you, “cuyir gar jate?”

You gave him a small smile. Ever since you spoke Mando’a in front of him, he randomly quizzes you, “Ni cuy' jate, Nere.”

He gave you an approving nod, as if you passed some type of test. The trooper had informed you a while ago that speaking in Mando’a had done wonders to help calm the nerves of some of the injured troopers. 

According to him, on Kamino, they were often poked, prodded and tested with no care for their feelings or comfort. You understood how that could be overwhelming for anyone, especially rapidly growing cadets.

Apparently, when you spoke the language while treating them, it took them away from Kamino. Helped them relax. 

Good. Your patient's comfort was your priority.

Rex stopped at a point where the cave opened into a massive cavern. He pulled one of his pistols and looked back at the men, “Prime place for an ambush. Be on guard.” He warned. 

The troopers readied their weapons. Blasters out, and aimed as the squad made its way forward. Each step had to be slow and careful, as the cave path had opened onto an underground cliffside.

The chamber was massive, allowing the men to spread out. Above your heads, the high ceiling was nothing but pointed stalagmites and shards of glowing stone. All around you were natural pillars of rock, crystal and coral. To the far left was a waterfall, and many meters below the outcropping where you stepped out, was rapidly running water. Growing all around you were bursts of glowing lichen and moss, helping light up the area. 

Luckily, the cavern had natural bridges that allowed you and troopers to cross the large gap. But before you could make any more moves forward, a blaster shot narrowly missed Rex’s head. 

Behind pillars, clusters of coral and boulders, droids stepped out, revealing themselves. Immediately they rained blaster bolts down. 

You dove behind the nearest pillar, pistol drawn and firing back. Nere got beside you, rifle out and aimed at the enemy. Rex was ahead, kneeling behind a thick cluster of pink, branching coral.

Nere peaked up, hoping to aim. However, in the blink of an eye, a blaster bolt pierced his forehead. His head jerked back and he crumbled, without making a sound. 

“Nere!” Your heart lurched and you knelt, feeling for a pulse. 

Nothing. 

You looked up, watching another trooper fall back, gripping his smoldering shoulder a few meters away. He looked up at you, “I’m good!” He called. 

“That's for me to judge!” you responded, leaning out slightly looking for an opening.

While the droids had numbers, the clones had skills. There were multiple broken and destroyed metal bodies across the way. More and more of the droids fell to perfectly aimed blaster shots from your side. 

After a second, you made your dash, getting to the soldier. A blaster shot narrowly missed your face, but you kept going. 

“Ni ganar gar,” You spoke, immediately assessing his wounded shoulder. The enemy blaster shots slowed down, but you still kept your head down as you worked. At least until all the droids were gone.

Not too bad. Shot didn’t go completely through. Bacta patches, mostly. 

Your hands worked fast. Within a minute you had the clone patched up and ready to keep going. 

He gave an experiment roll of his shoulder before giving you a thumbs up, “Thanks doc!”

You nodded before standing. Your eyes roamed over the other men, looking for any possible injuries. Satisfied that you didn’t see any, you looked to the Captain. 

Rex stepped over to one of the stone bridges, motioning for the squad to continue. He waited, wanting them to go first so he could watch the rear.

You looked back at Nere, sighing softly before following the others. What you, nor anyone else had seen was one more droid remained, half destroyed and barely functioning. You were focused on watching the men walk, making sure none of them were hiding injuries from you. 

They were halfway across when Rex nodded to you, and the both of you crossed the natural bridge. The other troopers made it across, double checking for any droids that were hiding or lying in wait.

You were halfway across when a blaster shot broke the silence. A half broken droid tried to aim at the Captain, but broke down completely. Instead, its shot went upward, breaking a massive stalagmite above you. 

The pointed stone slammed down in front of you, Shattering the natural bridge the both of you stood on. The ground beneath your feet broke and collapsed.

Rex managed to grab you, before you both plummeted into the dark waters below.