#tcw fan fiction

[mae-lou-ron]

Keeping You Around

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x reader

Summary: Commander Wolffe's assignment to embark on a reconnaissance mission takes an unexpected turn when he finds himself stranded with you—a development he was far from prepared to deal with.

Word Count: ~3,700 (it was supposed to be like 500 but again, brevity is not my strength, okay?)

CW: Fluff, hurt/comfort, mild injury mentioned, mando'a nickname, mutual pining, idiots in love arguing, stubborn Wolffe is stubborn. Wearing a flight suit and having hair long enough to be in the face are the only descriptions.

A/N: Real talk I wrote this in about 3 hours last night. Barely proofread bc I’m a dangerous woman trying to stop falling down editing rabbit holes at 3am. Lots of familiar tropes and scenarios ahead, but my goal was to practice writing conflict dialogue and thought Wolffe would be fun to try. Inspired to write this while watching Nick and Jess argue in New Girl S1E22 😜

Feedback is welcome, but please be constructive/kind.

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"Cyar'ika!" Wolffe's voice boomed through the dilapidated hangar, the sudden sound of it nearly making you drop your spanner. "Cyar- Maker… there you are. What is wrong with you?!" Wolffe demanded as he strode over to you from a room off to the side, angrily trying to get his pauldron to snap back into place.

"Ah, Commander, I see you’ve regained consciousness," you said drily, not looking up from the panel you were rewiring. Your hands were growing tired, just like the rest of you from the tedious task of fixing the power supply in hopes of getting a signal out to the 104th.

"Care to explain why I woke up in a strange room with half my kit off?" Wolffe demanded, his voice a dripping with irritation.

"Because you were much easier to drag without it… and I needed to make sure you weren't bleeding internally while you were unconscious," you said matter-of-factly. "I'm sorry—if I had time to wait for you to come around, I would have asked," you said, your voice losing its edge incrementally as you met his eyes for the first time. “Not like you would have admitted you were injured anyway,” you muttered under your breath.

He regarded you carefully, his expression severe. You could see his mind racing through a hundred scenarios while he’d been unconscious, though thankfully none had come to pass. His ARC trooper instincts kicked in as his eyes scanned the space for potential threats.

"Relax," you sighed. "I cleared the place, there's no one here. By the state of things I don’t think anyone has been here for a long time,” you gestured around to the various consoles and furniture covered in a thick layer of dust and debris. “Except for the scurriers, at least,”

"How… where's the shuttle?" he turned his head towards the closed hangar doors. No shuttle in sight.

"About 5 klicks east where we crashed it…" The panel before you flickered a few times, the power pulsing it to life before it cut out again. "Dank farrik!" you swore and kicked the side of it as the last of your patience with the blasted thing finally left your body. "It's no use, I can't keep the power on long enough to start anything up," you grumbled as you pulled yourself to your feet, wiping your hands on your flight suit in frustration.

When you looked up at Wolffe, he was staring at you with the same unreadable expression. His brow furrowed slightly as he took in your disheveled appearance and the scattered tools around you. His hands perched on his belt, mismatched eyes glittering.

"What?" you shrugged, slightly unnerved by his stern gaze.

"Where we crashed it, Lieutenant?" Wolffe's deep voice thick with implication. "The last thing I remember is you ignoring my direct order to put the ship down in that clearing."

"If I had, the clankers would have advanced on our position, cutting off what looked like the only civilian escape route,” you countered. "Landing further away drew them to us instead…it wasn’t part of the plan to get shot down…" you added as you remembered the chaos of the crash. The impact had been jarring, a barrage of tree branches cracking against the hull like breaking limbs. A second impact threw an already off balance Wolffe into one of the wall panels, knocking him out.

You managed to keep the shuttle in the air long enough to find a patch where the trees thinned out. In all honesty, it wasn't even your worst landing to date. As soon as it stopped moving, you immediately went to Wolffe. The shuttle was trashed, but you thanked the Maker one of the speeders stowed within it had survived. With great difficulty, you dragged Wolffe's unconscious form from the wreck, your muscles screaming in protest as you moved him to a safer distance away. There you were able to quickly assess his injuries, relief washing over you when you found a strong pulse and no signs of severe trauma. A few bruised or broken ribs, maybe, and thankfully he was wearing his helmet in the crash, but you still needed to check him for a concussion.

With Wolffe secured, you turned your attention to finding shelter, knowing that staying put wasn't an option. Your initial scans of the area indicated a hidden structure not too far from your position. So, with even greater difficulty, you heaved him onto the back of the speeder with whatever supplies you could quickly grab, and took off to higher ground.

“We’re both alive, relatively unscathed, gave the civilians a chance to escape, I handled it, Wolffe,” you reasoned, annoyed but not surprised at his reaction. Wolffe was a textbook control freak, but over the last year it had become almost endearing to you. Relishing in the way his eyes widened when he was flustered, or how his gravely tone would elevate ever so slightly when you pissed him off.

Like right now.

"Maybe if you listened to orders for once, you wouldn't have had to," Wolffe retorted, through gritted teeth.

You rolled your eyes. "Oh, because you're such a shining example of following protocol?" Referring to all the times Wolffe and General Plo bent protocol to keep their men alive, to secure the mission’s success.

"That's different and you know it," he growled, taking a step closer.

"How? How is it different, Wolffe?" you challenged.

He hesitated for a moment, then sighed. "Because I'm trying to keep you safe, dammit."

"And who's been keeping you safe?" you raised your voice, your frustration bubbling. He bristled, but you could tell your words surprised him when he deflected back to you.

“You can’t just keep running into the fray like that, you’re going to get yourself killed!”

“Ok, that’s actually kinda hilarious coming from you,” you chuckled sardonically.

“You’re not a soldier…and lately you seem set on going against everything I say trying to keep you alive!” his voice grew louder with every word.

“Wow, Wolffe. Do you even hear yourself?!” the words came out of your mouth, stopping him in his tracks, scowling at his puzzled expression.

“What?" he snapped in a deep voice. His eyes blazed with both anger and confusion, clearly caught off guard by your outburst. The tension in the air was palpable as you both stood there, locked in a silent standoff.

“I can take care of myself, and believe it or not, I always have, with or without you around,” you growled. “And I don’t appreciate you making me out to be this fragile little thing who needs to be taken care of…I volunteered for this mission, and I dragged your heavy ass here away from the droids while you were taking a nap,”

“I wasn’t aware I was responsible for what happened while I was unconscious, cyar’ika,” his tone filled with warning.

"And I certainly wasn't aware that saving your life would piss you off so badly," you spat, your chest heaving with exasperation.

The tension between you simmered, neither willing to yield. Wolffe had been acting strangely ever since he learned you volunteered for this mission. His behavior grew even more peculiar when you were paired to conduct recon scans for command. It made sense—you were a decorated pilot, and he was a decorated commander—yet his unease was obvious.

While Wolffe is a lot of things, he is not someone who will willingly talk about his feelings. So you stood there, glaring at each other, both too stubborn to acquiesce. You were slowly moving towards one another, your determination coming off you in waves.

“When are you going to stop being so stubborn,” he said, chest puffing out slightly.

“Maybe I’m waiting for you to do the same,” you hissed.

“Don’t count on it, cyar’ika.” he took another step in your direction. The clones were already formidable in their presence, but Wollfe’s brightly painted armor made his presence even more powerful. It took you gritting your teeth and clenching your fists at your side to quell the impulses that were firing in your brain. You closed the distance, showing you weren’t going to back down. Not on this.

“Well, Commander, next time I’ll be sure to avoid any missions you’re assigned to, then you won’t have to carry my ‘dead weight’ around…” you half regretted the words as soon as they left your tongue, you wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt that maybe— maybe you’d misheard things. But it looked like you were going down this road anyway.

His eyes flashed with anger, but also a realization at your words. For a moment, you saw a flicker of vulnerability beneath his tough exterior. But as quickly as it appeared, it was gone, replaced by a sheepish anger that spoke volumes.

“Yeah Wolffe, I overheard you talking to Rex before we left,” you said as you bit back the fire in your lungs. “Ironic, don’t you think?” you sighed after a few long moments of silence.

Wolffe's conversation with Rex had echoed in your mind, each word a dagger twisting deeper into your heart, fueling your pain. You couldn't shake the feeling, the knowledge that someone you cared for so deeply likely saw you as nothing more than a burden.

His face fell as your words deflated him. “You…” he sighed. “You weren’t supposed to hear that…”

“Clearly. But now that I know how you really feel about my abilities we can stop pretending, so thanks for that I guess,” you looked at the floor, unable to keep the hurt from your voice now.

Wolffe's expression shifted, a sadness crossing his features. He reached out but stopped mid-air, unsure. "That's not... I didn't mean it like that," he said, his voice softer now, tinged with a hint of desperation. "You have to understand, cyar’ika, the situation is-"

“Will you stop calling me that!?” You nearly screamed, your voice echoing off the bare walls in the hangar. You could have sworn he winced, the only sound being the wind blowing through the cracks in the door. Wolffe opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, clearly struggling to find the right words.

"I would never speak about you like that, Wolffe, especially not to Rex," your voice was uncharacteristically small as you crossed your arms protectively. You had considered dropping the mission, faking an injury��anything to avoid this. But Wolffe was still one of your closest friends in the GAR; he'd have seen right through you. So instead, it lit a fire in you to prove him wrong. You knew it was childish to crave his approval, to want him to be proud of you. But what else could you do when you were desperately in love with the man?

Wolffe's eyes searched your face as he stepped closer, shoulders slumped incrementally, but his voice was low and earnest. "Those words were never meant to hurt you," he softly called you cyar'ika again. You ignored it, waiting for him to continue. "What you heard... it wasn't what you think." He reached out once more, but you stood firm against the pull of his warmth. "Please, let me explain?"

His tone was softer than you'd ever heard from him. A tingle ran down your spine as you glanced at his hand, then back into his tawny eye. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you raised your eyebrows, daring him to continue.

"I'm all ears, Commander."

Wolffe grabbed a nearby stool and pointed at it, which you took only after he took a seat on the stool opposite you. He suppressed another wince with a hand over his ribs, you’d apply more bacta later, you thought to yourself as your knees nearly bumped his, but you ignored that too as he let out a ragged sigh. Running a hand through his cropped hair, he sent a few tendrils astray and you had to avert your gaze to avoid being distracted by the sight.

"You’re right, I didn't want you to come here with me," he said quietly. When he felt you bristle and open your mouth to protest, he touched his fingertips to your knee, seeking permission before he continued. “But then you volunteered- and what was I supposed to tell you- tell them?”

“You didn’t think I could handle it,” you said softly shaking your head and shifting in your seat with your eyes still on the floor.

"It's not that," Wolffe said, his voice low. He leaned forward, his knuckle gently nudging your chin. When you looked up he was gazing at you with an intensity that made your heart thrum. You could feel the weight of what he was trying to say in his long pause. “I didn’t think that I could handle it,” he confessed, eyes guarded as he gauged your response.

Wolffe's confession caught you off guard, revealing a rare vulnerability beneath his gruff exterior. The bands around your heart loosened as understanding dawned, pieces falling into place. His overprotective nature, steely demeanor, and reluctance to have you on this mission suddenly made sense. Gently, you placed your fingertips over his where they rest on your knee, a silent acknowledgment of this newfound insight. But still, what he said to Rex still had its bitter sting.

“Anything would have been better than you letting Rex think I was a liability, Wolffe,”

“I know…I’m…sorry, I can’t even imagine how angry I’d have been if I were you." He paused, his eyes searching yours.

“I’m still angry,” you said quietly, but a glimmer of your softening resolve shone through, he saw it making his posture relaxing incrementally.

“And I deserve it,” he turned his hand over beneath yours, wrapping his gloved fingers around your palm. The gesture surprising both of you. “I’ll talk to Rex as soon as we get out of here- but I don’t even think I’ll need to once he reads our mission report,” he mused.

You both sat in silence for a moment, the weight of your conversation hanging between you. The anger that had fueled your argument earlier had dissipated, replaced by a different kind of tension. Wolffe's thumb traced gentle circles on the back of your hand.

“I won’t make this mistake again, I promise you,” he said before he brought your hand to his lips, gently pressing them to your knuckles. You felt his breath fan over your skin, making your own breath stop in your throat at this unfamiliar, but not unwelcome side of Wolffe.

“Thank you,” you murmured as you moved your hand from his lips to his cheek. "We've always been quite the team," your eyes locked with his mismatched gaze. “We can protect one another. Together. I don’t need a savior, I just need to know you’ve got my back, as I have yours. I always will…”

Wolffe's eyes softened, a mix of gratitude and admiration shining through. He leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours in a gentle Keldabe kiss. "Always, cyar’ika," he murmured, his voice low and filled with promise. "Together.”

You chuckled softly at his pet name for you. "Wolffe, why do you keep calling me that?" The question had been on your mind for a while, but you'd never asked before. Truthfully, you were afraid to know the answer. You'd always assumed it was some kind of teasing nickname, especially given how his brothers snickered whenever it slipped from his lips around them.

Wolffe shifted uncomfortably under your gaze. A strange and unfamiliar site, but you couldn’t help but smile internally at your ability to unearth this side of him. After a moment, Wolffe seemed to find some resolve. His gloved hand reached up and brushed a stray hair from your eyes. When you looked at his face again you swore you saw pink in the man’s cheeks.

Wolffe can blush? You thought to yourself, eyes growing wide at this information. “It’s mando’a…there are words in basic that would cover it, but it’s…it’s more like a feeling. A sentiment…” he trailed off. His eyes softened as he looked at you, a hint of vulnerability in his expression. "The closest thing I can think of is…darling, beloved," Wolffe swallowed, his voice low and tender.

The realization dawned on you like a class two Venator crashing down, and between all the tension from the mission and trying to survive on this rock, you could help but burst into a fit of soft laughter.

“What?” Wolffe looked confused.

“So it doesn’t mean ‘idiot’?” You bit the inside of your cheek to stop your giggles.

Wolffe chuckled, a rare smile tugging at his lips. "No, cyar'ika. It definitely doesn't mean 'idiot'." He paused, his eyes crinkling as they met yours.

“I sure feel like one right now,” you murmured, your eyes distant thinking back to some of the times it slipped out in conversation.

“I’m the dik’ut in this case, cyar’ika,” he gazed at you softly, hand brushing another stray hair from your face.

“Well…” you said, leaning in closer. Your skin flushed with the renewed electricity between you. “I suppose it’s alright, now that I know why your brothers have been laughing when you say it…”

Wolffe slapped his forehead. "Kriff," he muttered, shaking his head. "I'll need to have a word with them when we get back." His eyes softened as they met yours again, a hint of amusement dancing in them. "But right now, I'd rather focus on you, cyar'ika." His hand cupped your cheek, thumb brushing gently across your skin as he leaned in closer. "Have you any idea how long I've wanted to kiss that scowl off your face?" he said softly, his nose brushing against yours. He paused there, giving you time to pull away.

You scowled at him for good measure, “So, what are you going to do about it, Commander?” You whispered, eyes locked on his.

Wolffe's eyes narrowed, something swirling in their depths. Without another word, he closed the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a tentative kiss. His hand cupped the back of your neck, pulling you closer as he poured all his unspoken emotions into the gesture. When you finally parted, breathless and redfaced, he rested his forehead against yours, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“Believe me now, cyar’ika?”

"Yes..." you murmured dreamily, your eyes still closed. "But I think I could use a little more convincing," you added, savoring his taste as your tongue grazed your bottom lip. He grinned and leaned in again, this time with more fervor, eager to kiss you properly—to kiss you the way he'd always longed to but never thought he could.

“Thank you,” he murmured against your lips.

You swallowed thickly, your eyebrows knitting together slightly. “What for?”

He put both of his hands on your cheeks, thumbs caressing your skin lightly. You found your eyes fluttering closed at his touch.

“For saving my life,” he whispered.

Your eyes snapped open. The sincerity in his voice made your heart skip a beat. You couldn't help but smile, your hand coming up to cover his on your cheek.

“Don’t mention it,” you grinned. “I’m sure you’ll get your chance to repay the favor before we get out of here,” you chuckled.

“At least once, I reckon,” he huffed, the corner of his mouth twitching. “and about ‘cyar’ika’— I won’t call you that anymore, not if you don’t want me to. It just sort of…slips out…”

You interrupted him by ghosting your lips over his. “Don’t you ever stop calling me that…”

He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he leaned in to kiss you again. The warmth of his lips against yours sent a shiver down your spine, and you found yourself melting into his embrace. As you pulled apart, breathless and giddy, you couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, this insane mission had been worth all the trouble after all.

“Now,” he said, reluctantly pulling away. “As much as I’d like to see where this goes, cyar’ika, we should probably get back to finding a way to contact General Plo,” he said with the faintest edge of regret in his voice.

“I would have probably gotten it working if you hadn’t interrupted me,” you teased.

Wolffe chuckled, shaking his head. "Is that so? Well, I suppose we'll never know now." He stood up, offering you his hand. "Come on, let's see if I can get that comm working while you get some rest. I can tell you haven’t slept since the crash," His eyes sparkled with a new affection and familiar determination, reminding you why you'd fallen for this gruff commander in the first place.

“I still need to check you for a concussion…” you pointed your finger into his chest plate as he guided you towards the room he’d just left.

“Oh I think it’s safe to say I am— so you’re just going to have to figure out a way to keep me awake tonight I guess, Lieutenant,” he said ominously, but his face gave nothing away.

You couldn't help but laugh. "Is that an order, Commander?" you teased, quirking an eyebrow at him. Wolffe's lips curled up in a rare, mischievous smirk as he pulled you closer, his voice low and husky as he murmured close to your ear. "Consider it a personal request, cyar'ika."

[arcsimper5]

The Hunt

On my Halloween vampire kick still!

Vampire! Fives x Human F!Reader Reader F but not described. Rating: Explicit (R) Minors DNI Warnings: Mentions of abuse, vampirism, blood drinking, wall s3x, alleyway s3x, p in v, unprotected sex

Summary: There was an unspoken rule amongst the vampires of Coruscant; don’t kill unless provoked, leave no evidence, don’t feed more than once on the same person.

As his eyes focused on a familiar outline in the crowd, arousal shooting through his body, Fives knew he was going to break that last rule tonight. Again.

@amorfista I'm back on my vampire BS lol

79’s was heaving, as it ever was, though Fives couldn’t help but smirk at the array of fancy dress on the patrons. 

Hallows’eve had always been a spectacle he’d watched from the outside, but never participated in, until now. Being a vampire, it almost felt like a festival honouring him, many a skimpy clad dancer with fake, painted blood spots on their neck, mimicking them being a victim of a bite.

His stomach fluttered and cock twitched at the mere thought of making those marks real.

Letting out a soft growl, dark yellow eyes flicked across the crowd.

There were so many options tonight, it was on the verge of overwhelming. Usual nights were quiet when he would hunt, pickings often slim, especially since the end of the war.

Peace bred much fewer habit drinkers than wartime, he mused.

But he always got his fill, taking enough to satisfy but not to kill. There was no point in arousing suspicion, and if enough patrons of a certain venue were killed, it inevitably closed. There was an unspoken rule amongst the vampires of Coruscant; don’t kill unless provoked, leave no evidence, don’t feed more than once on the same person.

As his eyes focused on a familiar outline in the crowd, arousal shooting through his body, Fives knew he was going to break that last rule tonight. Again.

She looked ethereal under the strobing lights of the dancefloor, hair swaying with the movement of her hips, body gyrating to the music. Wearing only a thigh length, navy blue dress adorned with sequins on the hem, she literally sparkled, body shivering when she felt his gaze settle on her.

As soon as her attention turned to him, a bolt of arousal went straight to Five’s cock, his flesh hardening instantly. His tongue darted out to lick his lips automatically, her face flushing ever so slightly at the action as she reached out her hand and beckoned him over.

He couldn’t deny her. He never could.

Sauntering through the crowd, their eyes remained locked on each others, even as bodies swayed and rocked around them, sweat and alcohol tainting the scent of the air. It was a magnetic pull, as if he was drawn to her, the sweet, addictive memory of the taste of her already on his tongue.

By the time he reached her, he was rock hard and wanting, slipping into place behind her and joining in with her writhing dance, growling low in his throat at the way she pressed back against him.

“I thought I’d missed you tonight,” she called over the music, her backside grinding against his hips as his mouth found her shoulder. He inhaled deeply, relishing her scent. “You’ve not been around for a few days.”

It was true, Fives had been haunting some of his other hunting grounds and meeting with vode, but the allure of her, the memory of how sweet her essence was, had him coming back more often than he should.

The fact she’d noticed sent another thrill through his body, but this hit differently, warming his cold heart in a way he didn’t want to dwell on too much.

“You miss me, mesh’la?” he teased lightly, dragging his lips across the soft skin of her neck. He could feel her racing pulse, hear her ragged breathing, practically taste her arousal as she spun around in his arms, facing him.

“What if I did?” she challenged, gaze locked on Five’s, his smirk matching hers.

“You like playing dangerous games, sweet one,” he hummed, looking her over. She was utterly gorgeous, and he wasn’t ashamed to admit, it was one of the first things he’d noticed about her first.

That first night was still etched in his memory, how she’d lured him in with her siren song of a dance, grinding on him until it got too much and she dragged him towards the bathrooms. 

It was only as he fingered her from behind, his hand pushed into her underwear in front of the mirror, her face twisted in pleasure and his reflection phasing in and out of reality that she learned of his true nature, practically begging him to drink from her, her core clenching at the very thought of it.

He’d complied easily, lost to pleasure as he drank his fill and she sank to her knees, drinking everything he had to offer in her own way.

It had been a pleasurable night, one that he’d kept in his memory for a week after, sated enough that he didn’t have to hunt. And when he returned, she was there. Waiting. Wanting. Sidling up to him at the bar and pressing her wrist to his mouth, urging him to sink his teeth into her.

He hadn’t even had time to order a drink before he had her pressed up against the wall, feasting on her pussy before he drank from her again, fingering her to a sweet release as he lapped at the wound, closing it tenderly.

Oddly, they’d talked afterwards, not for long, but enough to exchange names and dates they intended to visit next. And it sparked something in Fives. This was dangerous, he knew. She could be anyone; a hunter, the bait of a hunter, or just a hot girl with a very specific kink.

Whatever the truth was, he was wary to begin with. But weeks turned into months, and now it had been almost a full year since their first encounter, his heart fluttering at the thought.

They’d still not had sex, his nature still bound by honour. He wouldn’t take advantage of her, everything had to be initiated in a way she was comfortable with. But tonight, it felt different. More primal.

His suspicions were confirmed when she leaned in closer, tongue darting over the shell of his ear, sending a shiver through his body.

“I was actually hoping to ask you for something, Fives. For our upcoming anniversary.”

Her words were teasing but her face was set a little too serious, Five’s stomach twisting as the music slowed a little, the rhythm more sensual, bodies pressed close together.

“And what would that be, mesh’la?” he asked against her skin, lips moving in to caress her neck once more. 

A beat of silence. Then…

“I… I want you to turn me. I want you to fuck me and let me turn, Fives. I want to… I want to be with you.”

Fives jerked back as if stung, eyes wide.

He had expected the request for sex, sure, it was something that had been on his mind as well, but the latter half of her request sent him reeling.

“I… I can’t!” he half choked, stumbling back a few steps. Her face was a picture of disappointment and hurt, uncertainty weaved through every movement it made. “You… you can’t just ask that of me.”

“Why not?” she snapped, suddenly angry, the rage rising up to replace the sharpness of her hurt. 

Fives looked around, aware other patrons had stopped dancing to look at them, listening in on their conversation. 

In a movement that brokered no arguments, he reached forward and grabbed her hand, pulling her towards one of the exits from 79’s, out onto the cold, busy streets of Corsucant. 

To her credit, she did not protest, allowing herself to be led, trusting Five’s actions.

The very thought of that trust made him dizzy. How could she, this delicate, beautiful, thoughtful woman want to be with him? He was a vampire, but all accounts, a monster.

“You don’t want it,” he breathed as they finally made it into a secluded alley, away from prying eyes. She faced him, eyes searching his face with a frown, as if trying to decipher something. “It’s… it’s not what you think it is.”

“Then tell me,” she urged him, leaning back against the wall behind her, earnesty in her voice. “Tell me what it’s really like, and I can decide.”

Fives considered her words for a moment, replying with a scowl of his own.

“I’ll tell you,” he murmured slowly, “if you tell me why you asked me to drink you the second you found out I was a vampire.”

That stopped her in her tracks, her jaw clenching as she glared at Fives, finally huffing and turning her head away, relenting.

“Because I thought you were going to kill me.”

The silence between them was broken only by the omnipresent buzz of the living city around them, Five’s eyes going wide at her admission.

Reaching a hand up to her face, he traced her jaw tenderly, pulling just enough to make her turn to face him. He wished nothing more than to kiss her tears away, his arms shaking with the effort of giving her space.

“I… I was in a bad relationship,” she continued after a moment, voice thick with emotion, “and I’d gone out to… to forget. I knew, as soon as I got back, he’d… well… He’d hurt me,” she laughed bitterly, Fives frown darkening.

If he’d known, had any idea, he would have gone back with her that night and kept her safe.

“I… I’m sorry,” he offered uselessly, chest constricting when she looked away again, shaking her head.

“I thought you would drink me dry and leave me there,” she swallowed, tears spilling down her cheeks as she met Five’s gaze again, “and it would all be over. No more pain, no more humiliation, no more suffering. Only… you didn’t. You were gentle, even when you fed. You treated me like… like a person. Like I was worth something. So… I came back.”

Her explanation left Fives reeling, his entire focus on her. Of all of the things he thought he might hear from her tonight, this was not even remotely close to his guesses.

“Cyare,” he breathed, his other hand now travelling to her face, both moving to bring her in for a tender kiss. She whimpered against his lips, her own hands grabbing at his waist, pulling him flush to her.

Their kiss was different this time, the tang of her tears mixing with saliva as their tongues danced in unison, Five’s hands pulling hers above her head, pinning her against the wall. One leg slipped between her thighs, pressing his knee against her.

The whimper she released into his mouth was divine, swallowed down by him as she rocked herself against his thigh, seeking friction.

Finally breaking the kiss, Fives pulled back with lust blown eyes, his fangs bared now as he panted for breath.

“There’s no going back from this,” he warned her, deathly serious as she gazed up at him, completely vulnerable. “True star sunlight will kill you, you’ll need to feed like I do, and you could live for centuries. You’ll watch everything you know and love crumble to dust around you, and there’ll be nothing you can do to stop it.”

“The only thing I’ve ever cared for is you,” she gasped out, arching her neck, giving Fives a perfect view of her pulse point. “I have no family, my job is dead-end. I’ve been working just to afford to come to meet you. There’s nothing left for me. Only you.”

Fives let out a guttural groan, fighting the urge to simply sink his teeth into her there and then.

“Mesh’la,” he chastised her gently, “I need to be sure. If I turn you, you’re bound to me. We’ll be bonded. I can only ever turn one person, you have to be sure. I couldn’t live with you hating me for eternity.”

Her eyes widened at his admission, fingers clenching against his hand where he still held them above her head, his palm dwarfing her slender wrists.

“I want you, Fives,” she managed, almost choking on his name as his other hand trailed down her breasts, teasing at her nipples, “I’ve wanted this since the moment we met. I need you, for as long as you’ll have me.”

That was all the encouragement Fives needed, a shiver of arousal pulsing through his body.

“Forever is a long time, cyare.”

She could only gasp as he shifted his leg away and unbuckled his belt with ease, black jeans pulled down just enough to expose his thick, leaking cock.

“Good,” she breathed, letting out a whimpering moan as his fingers slipped up her thigh, dragging one leg over his hip before moving to her core, gently tugging her panties to one side and lining the head of his cock up to her entrance.

“Last chance,” he offered, eyes locked on hers for what felt like an eternity. She looked utterly debauched already, pupils blown wide with lust, beads of sweat forming on her forehead.

“Make me yours.”

They both moaned in unison as Fives slid inside her, the delicious friction of his cock against her insides bringing a new level of pleasure to her, one she’d never felt before. He was thicker than anyone she’d ever had before, her walls fluttering around him as he bottomed out, wrapping his free hand into her hair, tugging her head to the side.

The absolute euphoria that spread through every cell of her body when he sank his fangs into her, piercing the vein in her neck and letting her very life flow against his tongue was like nothing she could ever have described.

The intensity of a lightning strike, the pleasure of a well known lover, the force of a tsunami, it was overwhelming in the most primal way.

“F-Fives, oh, m-maker,” she managed, chest drawing in desperate, shuddering breaths. His lips sealed around the bite, sucking deeply as he fucked up into her, his other hand releasing hers above her head to grab at her waist, lifting her up against him.

She wrapped her legs around his waist without hesitation, her own hands raking down his back as he drank from her, desperate for every last drop.

Her head span, desire and pleasure mixing together to make everything hazy and unimportant. She could feel her heart slowing, the chill of the night seeping into her as Fives continued to fuck her deeply, moaning into her neck as he rolled his hips, relishing in the way she clenched around him.

Finally, as the world began to fade for her, Fives licked at her neck, lathing his tongue over the wound, and she found his wrist pressed against her mouth, the sweet, metallic tang of his blood filling her senses, his essence dribbling over her lips.

“Drink, my love,” he urged her as he bucked against her, drawing more moans from those beautiful lips, “have me. Become mine.”

He didn’t need to ask her again. Her mouth latched onto his wrist, sucking greedily at the wound on his wrist, laking all he had to offer her. Fresh pleasure rushed through Five’s body, his essence mixing with hers, the exchange of life, the awakening of a new part of her.

She felt it too, the absolute bliss, her body bucking and writhing against his, orgasm after orgasm coursing through her as she drank, her body changing, cooling, growing in strength.

Fives pulled his wrist away as he spilled inside her, caught off guard by the crest of his pleasure. Crashing their mouths together, they drank in the taste of each other, Five’s seed coating her insides, held in as he rocked them through the afterglow.

Caught once more by the intensity of it all, she let out a whimper against his lips, almost collapsing into his arms as exhaustion took over, a feeling he remembered all too well from his own turning.

“Easy, cyare,” he cooed, wincing in sympathy as he withdrew from her, hands steady on her waist, supporting her, “you’re going to feel weak for a while.”

“F-Fives, I, I l-love you,” she breathed, oblivious to the way his eyes flashed in delight, yellow orbs shining in the darkness.

“And I love you, mesh’la. I’m going to take you home, to our home, now. We will rest and wake together, and you can feed again. Then, I will show you the world through your new eyes.”

“P-Please, F-Fives. Thank, thank you. You’re all I, all I want.”

Fives couldn’t fight the soppy grin that lilted his lips as he quickly redressed himself and picked her up bridal style, his touch tender and comforting.

“You have me, cyare. Forever.”

[skellymom]

"Vagabonds" Chapter 9 "In The Beginning"

Ongoing fanfic Hunter x Reader/Fem Reader/OC

Hunter meets a smuggler Nomaadi Star Woman with a powerful force sensitive teen who changes the trajectory of CF-99's lives...as they ALL try to escape from The Empire together.

ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰɪᴄ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ 18+ ᴅɴɪ

To read "Vagabonds" Chapter 8:

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/735297232933453824/vagabonds-chapter-8?source=share

Word Count: 900

Background: Flashback sequence.

Warning: Star Wars swears, Earth swears, fear, physical pain, blood, canon-typical violence, mention of human experimentation, and nonbinary/trans clone identity.

(Credit: Cool moving star dividers by @4ngelic-wh1spers )

Recap:

Hunter, still holding his head, could only muster a groan.  Omega was holding him and trying to soothe the pain. 

“Omega?” 

“I’m ok, just worried about Hunter.” 

“On my way over.  Sil...I’m gonna need help getting up.” Mad unbuckled herself out and swung the pilot’s chair around.  She didn’t need to enquire about Love.  Mad could feel Love’s relief and numbness to their injuries.  After these Force outbursts, Love would be in a silent, glazed over state for an hour or two. 

Sil helped Mad stand.  Immediately her vision went starry white as she slipped from Sil’s grasp and fell face first onto the floor...

...where she kept falling... 

...a long way down...into the darkness... 

"In The Beginning"

The Republic Venator blotted out the sun on this distant planet caught in the aftermath of the Separatist skirmish. 

The Nomaadi convoy followed the Republic ships for several weeks, hiding just out of sight. One ship at a time would land on the planet's surface in case they were spotted. The rest of the convoy hiding separately. They picked through the rubble, claiming whatever goods they could later sell to make a living. Occasionally a survivor, or several would be found and taken in.  

"I’m afraid there isn’t much here my love” Paapi Daal turned to his partner. “No luck this time.” 

She, with heavily tattooed skin, stood firm upon the littered soil. Maami Daal inhaled deeply, listening intensely...then turned and scanned the landscape. 

“Maybe...maybe not...” She cocked an ear. Some of the rubble shifted...the tiniest bit. 

She hurried across the loamy soil, bending down, furiously pulling away droid parts and shrapnel. Her partner followed in kind. They cleared away a crude wooden door built into the soil. A cold cellar. 

Paapi dug his fingers under the lip and with a groan lifted the door, pulling it open. The lid fell away. 

He was immediately knocked off his feet and onto his back by a small child. She kneeled upon his chest like a dead weight, scratching at his face, growling like a wild beast. Another child, terrified, grabbed the smaller one. 

“We’re sorry, sir...we didn’t mean....” This one was HORRIFIED. "She is protective." The larger dark-haired child embraced the smaller silver haired one, managing to pull her free, hugging tightly, smoothing her hair, and whispering singsong as she struggled. 

Paapi and Maami Daal watched as the larger child soothed the smaller one. The silver-haired one still bared her teeth at them but settled. 

“Is that your sister? Where are your parents, child?” Maami enquired. 

The larger child kept a hold on the smaller one, pondering for a few minutes before answering. “Who wants to know?” 

The couple glanced at each other quizzically. “We, of the Star People...The Nomaadi.” 

No answer. Just a nod to the now disappearing Venator on the horizon. 

“You’re from THAT ship?”  

The children both nodded. The Daals glanced at each other again.  

“Can’t be...” Pappi mused. “Only clone soldiers and Jedi aboard.” 

“I AM a clone!” Their gaze snapped back to the larger child. “A DEFECTIVE clone.” Defiant expression. “They wanted me to be a battlefield soldier. They wanted me to ‘act’ like a proper man. I told the Long Necks that IS NOT WHO I AM!!!” Tears appearing. 

Maami Daal knelt down in front of the big and the little. “What is your name, child?” 

Terror surged back into the larger child's face. Maami could tell their long dark curly locks had been cut short. Crudely and unevenly done by something other than haircutting shears. A vibroknife? Was this done as punishment? 

Both children stared deep into Maami’s eyes. They saw pools of deep black accented by tiny flecks of silver. As if looking into the galaxy...no, the universe...seeing endless hope and possibilities. They had nothing to fear from these people. In fact, these people had been searching for them and others like them since the beginning of time. 

“Speak your truth, child.” 

They would have a new home; the pain and abuse would finally end. Thank The Force. 

“CT-...” 

Maami slowly shook her head No and whispered, “Your REAL name.” 

They see us. More than a number. Not just an experiment.  

“SHE. My name is She.” 

“And who is THIS clone?” Now peering at the smaller child...still staring into Maami's eyes.  

“NOT a clone. A prisoner.” 

“What crimes do small children commit that The Republic must take them prisoner???” 

“The Kaminoan’s don’t name their experimental subjects. Whether they came with one or not.” 

The Daal’s flinched at this answer. 

"Well...that is over and done." Maami Daal smiled to the children. She gently booped the little one's nose. "Gift of The Force you two are, our family you shall be."

The little smiled back, sticking out her tongue and cooed. 

Paapi Daal chuckled as he used his scarf to blot the blood from the scratch on his face. “You’re a feral little oddling, yes?"

She threw her head back and howled in reply. 

“This one shall be named ‘Mad’.”  

 The Venator ascended out of the planet’s atmosphere. It’s Jedi General meditated in deep concentration; eyes closed. His squad of clone troopers milled around expectantly. When he opened his eyes and all hands snapped at attention. 

“They have been found!” 

A collective whoop went up from the men on board. 

“Let me REMIND ALL OF YOU that WE should NEVER smuggle out ANY MORE children from the Kaminoan Facility! We will ALL be sacked and sorry!!!” With his best cheesy smile and a wink. “I’ll trust NONE OF YOU will share a shred of this to anyone outside of this transport???” He didn’t believe it for a minute. 

The Clone Commander facepalmed “We are SO fucked!” 

“Do you NOT trust your Jedi General? I may have many crockpot schemes, but it’s smoothed over with the influence of The Force.” Side-eyed the Commander and waved his hand. “I won’t worry about this mission. We were successful.” 

The Commander repeated “I won’t worry about this mission. We were successful.” 

A trooper nearby snickered “You know when that finally wears off, he’s gonna be PISSED you did it AGAIN?” 

“He’ll forgive me. He can’t help it!” The Jedi playfully elbowed his Commander. 

His Commander managed an expression of concern and confusion. 

As the jovial banter continued, a group of clones stood around the window, watching the planet recede from view. 

“You think She and Little One have a chance?” 

“Much better than staying on Kamino. The Nomaadi will take good care of ‘em.” 

“Wish I could’a stayed behind. Kriffin' tired of this rat race.” 

“Miss them already...” 

“Shhh...we can’t. At least not right NOW.”  

“Maybe sometime...in the future...” 

“Yeah, younger ones go first.” 

“Gotta be REAL careful if we smuggle any more out.” 

A hush fell among the group as the ship and planet was swallowed up by the cold darkness of space...

PLEASE like, comment, and/or REBLOG!

To read Chapter 10

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/743633412345282560/vagabonds-chapter-10?source=share

[ariadnes-red-thread]

HELLO!!!!

is me again hehe <3

lately, i've been thinking about how Jesse and how his strong devotion and loyalty translates into a relationship. so i was thinkingggggg, a scenario where Jesse needs to be walked of the edge of a heated situation and needs reassurance that he's it for reader. that he's the man reader wants to be with and will stand be his side.

can be either SFW or NSFW (with agender reader with female parts??? that would make me so happy) what ever is sparking your lovely imagination.

so appreciate and love and am grateful i found your beautiful writing and met such an amazing person <3

Mythos, my dear! Thank you so much for the ask!! I saw your second ask too and I hope I’ve done your beautiful request justice. Jesse is so passionate but that’s exactly what we love about him and the idea of being able to show him that when he was feeling insecure is exactly what he deserves! I completely got carried away with this and ended up writing over 2.5k words (although it’s never enough for Jesse!). I hope you like it! Thank you for celebrating with me, love!

Pairing: Jesse x GN!/Anatomically Female Reader

Warnings: General Creepiness, Threats of Violence, Canon-Typical content, Self-Doubt, Explicit Sexual Content *MINORS DNI*

You finally made it to the bar on a particularly busy night at 79’s. It was way more work than it should have been for a glass of water, but the dance floor that Jesse had kept you glued to all night was hot, and you were parched.

You could still see him through the crowd. His cog tattoo and shaved head helped him stand out among his identical brothers. That and you’d be able to spot his grin anywhere. He was in his civies tonight, a black t-shirt and his lone pair of jeans. Jesse always looked good, but you enjoyed your current vantage point and took a moment to check out the handsome man. You had only been on dating for a few months. Your friend had been hot and heavy with Fives since the moment she met the goateed clone. It had taken her a few tries to convince you to join them on a double date with one of his brothers who Fives insisted you’d like. You hadn’t been expecting much, not because you didn’t like Fives, but simply because you didn’t imagine someone like him could be your type. Jesse had swept you off your feet, though. You hadn’t admitted it to him yet, but you were falling fast. His endearing charm, constant sarcasm, lighthearted take on life, the passion that burned bright through him, and the kindness and understanding he always showed you made it easy to fall. You watched him move under the neon lights, and you felt a wide smile creep across your face. Jesse always seemed to put that smile there.

So it was Jesse and the lights and the music’s fault that you didn’t notice a crowd of people behind you until one of them stumbled into your back. You spun around, ready to apologize for taking up precious bar space before you realized it was a group of nat-borns. Instantly, your defense went up.

It wasn’t often that other civilians wandered into 79’s, and the ones that did were usually there to cause problems. So as you eyed up the stumbling rough and rowdy group, you didn’t have to go looking to know that they were likely trouble. Unfortunately, as Jesse often liked to remind you, with a deep laugh and elbow to your ribs, trouble usually came looking for you.

“Hey,“ The tallest one slurred as he looked you up and down. “Come here often?”

“Yup.” Your reply was curt, and you hoped they would take the hint when you turned back to face the bar.

Instead, a hand came to your shoulder.

“Hey, I was talking to you.” He was suddenly close, his breath rank and hot on your face as he yanked you towards. “You think you’re too good for us.”

“Don’t touch me.” You took a full step away as you warned him.

“Slummin’ it here with all these test tube freaks.” He closed in on you again. “Let me show you what a real man can do.”

You raised your hands, about to shove him backward, when a familiar arm slid over your shoulder. Despite your guard being up, you instantly knew who was next to you.

“Problem here?”

Your eyes didn’t move from the creep, but you could hear the eternal grin on Jesse’s face. You didn’t mistake the grin for carelessness. Instead, you knew it was just Jesse. He was always calm until he wasn’t.

“Ahh, I see. No problem.” The man stumbled back into his friends before muttering under his breath. “Freak fucker.”

“What did you call them?”

Your head snapped up at the sudden change in tone in Jesse’s voice. He wasn’t grinning anymore. His hand left your shoulder as he began to stiffen at your side. The man didn’t realize his mistake as he kept hurling insults your way.

“They’re just another slut for you meat droids. The Republic needs to end the war so they can take you all out with the trash.”

In split seconds, Jesse lept past you. He swung, his fist connecting with the creep’s jaw, sending him reeling backwards. He threw another jab, catching the man with a blow to the nose before he stumbled out of Jesse’s reach.

Your stomach dropped as one of the friends lunged for Jesse, whose gaze was still on the instigator. But never one to be caught off guard, Jesse side-stepped the second man in the same moment he spun, landing a uppercut into the man’s stomach.

You balled your fists, ready to follow Jesse when another hand came to your shoulder. You cocked a fist back but Kix’s voice found you before you could swing.

“You jump in, you just make it worse for him.”

You huffed in response. Kix wasn’t wrong. You knew Jesse could handle a few nat-borns by himself and he would only be distracted if you started to fight. Still, your fist stayed balled by your side.

In the next moment, a flash of red by the door caught your eye. The Courscant Guard was here. They were always close by on busy nights, keeping the peace however they had to. The three clones positioned themselves by the door. You recognized Thorn by his helmet. He posted himself in the corner, a shiny on either on side of him. You knew he wouldn’t intervene unless he had to, but if Jesse kept at it, Thorn wouldn’t have a choice.

Kix saw Thorn too. He set his jaw and dove into the fray. He emerged with an arm wrapped around Jesse’s waist, tugging the scowling man out of the scuffle. Kix turned, tossing his brother away from the seething nat-borns before he spun around to face them again.

“Get out.” Kix pointed to the door. “Or you’re going to have a lot more meat droids to deal with.”

The instigator snarled through a bloody nose and spit at Kix’s feet. Jesse yelled out and charged for the man again. You turned to face him, stepping into his path and putting your hands on his chest. Jesse looked down at you, his face instantly softening just a bit.

“Jesse - we’re leaving now.” The words were an order but your tone was gentle, hoping you could reach the part of him that had just relaxed under your palms.

He frowned, his eyes quickly back on his target. The men were rapidly retreating out the door, with side-glances thrown at the Guards in red. You felt Jesse twitch, like he wanted to chase after them.

“It’s okay, Jess.” Kix’s voice came from behind you now, calm and quiet. “Just let go it.”

“They’re not worth it.” You lifted one palm to Jesse’s face, laying it on his cheek with just enough pressure to coax him into looking at you. “Please, Jesse.”

His hand came up to your forearm, giving you a gentle squeeze.

“Okay,” The words were breathy as they left his mouth. “Okay, okay. You’re right.”

You lifted to meet his lips, capturing him in a quick, grateful kiss.

He exhaled as you pulled away, breaking the brief kiss. You ran your thumb along his cheekbone, tracing the lower rim of his tattoo. Then your hand fell to find his hand at his side.

“Let’s go home.”

You tugged him towards the exit. As you pulled Jesse out of the club, you threw on glance back to search over his shoulder, quickly finding the familiar eyes of Kix. He tilted his head in question, and you nodded in reassurance. He smiled back and raised his glass in a grateful salute before he turned back to the dancefloor. Jesse followed you to the door in a daze. The adrenaline of the fight had worn off, and he hung almost limp as he drifted behind you.

By the time you got back to your apartment, Jesse was almost catatonic. His lids hung heavy over his eyes as he sank onto the edge of your bed. He hadn’t said a word since you left 79’s. You were starting to get worried. Rather than press him to talk, you went to the kitchen and got a wet washcloth. Returning to find him unmoved in the bedroom, you knelt before him. Coaxing him to take off his shoes, you placed them next to yours at the end of the bed. Then you turned your attention to his bruised knuckles. Taking his calloused hand in yours, you started to dab at the scrapped skin.

“You… you don’t have to do that.” Jesse stuttered as he finally spoke.

“I’m happy to, Jesse.” You tried to smile up at him but his sleepy gaze had turned into a wide eyed stare and it caught you off guard.

“No, I mean you shouldn’t have to do that.” He yanked his hand out of yours.

You barely had time to wonder at his sudden movement before he was up on his feet, pacing across your small bedroom.

“Jesse, talk to me.” You kept your voice gentle, not out of fear but out of caring. You wanted him to know you were there for him.

“You deserve better, you know.”

You frowned but before you could protest, Jesse spoke again, never breaking his relentless stride.

“I’m sorry. I’m just a hothead. All I know is how to fight.” Jesse ran his fingers over his broken knuckles. “You deserve more than that.”

He finally stopped his pacing as he caught his form in the full length mirror that hung on your wall. His frown grew as he studied himself.

“Look at me.” His shoulders slumped and his eyes fell to the floor. “I was bred for this. Bred to be a soldier and that’s all I’ll ever be.”

You quickly clambered to your feet. He didn’t move from his position in front of the mirror. You stood behind him, savoring his closeness for a moment. You wrapped your arms around him at his waist and pulled him in tight to you.

“I love your fire, Jesse. I love that you’re a fighter.”

He let out a single dry laugh. It was so soulless, so unlike Jesse. You held him a little closer.

“Look at you, Jesse.” You settled your head on his shoulder, stretching to peer at your combined reflections. “You want to know what I see?”

He finally raised his head, hesitantly meeting your eyes.

“I see how passionately you care, how you love so strongly that you would go to war for those you care about. Your brothers know that. They love and respect you for that. But that fire isn’t all you are.”

“You can make me smile on the hardest of days. You keep calm in far more situations than you give yourself credit for. You like to pretend you don’t care but I can see how deeply you do.” You dug your fingers into his shirt, gripping his ribs, trying to convey how much you wanted him. “Don’t ever say you’re just a soldier. You’re so much more than that, Jesse.”

Jesse’s eyes were shining as his reflection stared back at you. He took your arm from his waist and tugged you in front of him, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders folding you into his warmth. You reached up and held onto his arms like he was the only liferaft in the sea. He started to grin again. You leaned your head back into him with a sigh and a smile.

“I’m so lucky to have met you.” Jesse murmured as he kissed the top of your head.

“We’re both lucky.”

You turned your head to lay a gentle kiss on his bicep. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the smirk on his face widen just a little. He pressed a kiss to your neck. And then another. You tilted your head, giving him more access to your sensitive flesh. One of hands that laid across your chest searched out your pert nipple and began to tease it gently through the rough fabric of your shirt. You leaned back into him with a soft moan, grinding your hips against him, feeling him harden behind you. Jesse’s lips found your ear.

“Oh, cyare,” Jesse’s words were dark and husky. “You don’t know what you do to me.”

His other hand snaked its way down your front, finding the waistline of your pants. Jesse pushed the fabric aside, sinking one knuckle into your already wet center.

“See what you do to me.” You breathlessly muttered. “Jesse, I need you.”

His hands jumped to your waist to find the hem of your shirt. Gentle fingers traced a line up your side, gathering your shirt as he went. Jesse paused at your mid-waist and looked at you. You nodded, giving him permission to proceed. He whipped the top off of you in the next moment. You spun to face him, needy for the feeling of his skin on yours. You tugged at the ends of his shirt, and he quickly obliged. You ran your hands over his chest, savoring the warmth of his skin and the sturdy build of his muscles.

Jesse bent to meet you and quickly captured your lips in his, kissing you deeply. He still tasted like a hint of whiskey. His tongue swirled with yours in a bruising fury and you felt yourself craving more of him. You broke apart for a moment, both turning your attention to your pants. The last bits of clothing was quickly removed and kicked aside.

Jesse spun you around to face the mirror and then pressed his wide palm on the small of your back, coaxing you into bending over. You gave into his directions, bringing a hand to the wall on either side of the mirror. You felt him run his length along your aching slit. You let out a breathy moan as he brushed along your clitoris, your head falling and eyes closing at the glorious friction.

“Oh no, cyare,” Jesse’s back was suddenly pressed against you, and his hand was on your jaw. He guided your head back up so you were staring into his deep brown eyes.

“That’s it,” he nipped at your neck as he stood again, lining himself up. “Let me see those eyes.”

You stared up at him, meeting his dark look in the mirror. His pupils were blown. Jesse stood again, towering over you. You bit your lip as you studied the breathtaking man for the briefest moment.

Then he entered you. His member filled you, reaching your furthest depths at this angle. The ache of being so full was quickly replaced by a overwhelming pleasure as Jesse’s hand snaked its way around you, deftly finding your already sensitive nub again. He teased small circles as he slowly began to move, dragging his cock from you before swiftly entering you again. Soon, his hips pistoned into you and you pushed back off of the wall, meeting him with every stroke. His other hand held your hip on a strong grip. You cried out his name as a wave of orgasm overtook you. Jesse followed behind, filling you as he finished.

You stood up and swayed on weak legs. Jesse quickly gathered you into his chest, showering your shoulders with kisses.

“Thank you.” He whispered against your skin.

“Always.” You sighed, leaning back into him. The next words left your mouth before you even considered them. “I love you, Jesse.”

Your stomach dropped for a moment. You knew you meant it but maybe it was too soon, too early. Before you could take it back, you looked to him in the mirror. His dark brown eyes found your suddenly wide ones and they were bright, all lust replaced with a vast joy. He quickly spun you to face him. Cupping your face in his hands, he tilted you up towards him.

“I love you too.”

His lips captured yours and his hands fell to wrap around your waist. Your heart soared as he squeezed you tighter to him.

“Now come on,” Jesse smirked before he stepped backwards, tuggiing you towards the bed. “I’m not done with you yet.”

[clone-anon]

Hi everyone. It's been pretty quiet lately. I do still have requests open and am around. Since a lot of my readers are taking a tumblr break it seems, I haven't been dropping surprise drabbles in ask boxes as much as I was in the spring. If you want one or want to request one on behalf of someone else, please feel free to do so. My pinned post has information on requesting. My other blog, @clone-anon-after-dark , is also taking requests. (Minors DNI)

May your favorite clone hold you in their heart!

[clone-anon-after-dark]

Loose Curls (Tup x M!Reader)

Word count: 1104

Warnings: NSFW, minors DNI, oral sex (both receiving), PiA (Tup receiving), doggie style,  unprotected sex, praise, some sub!Tup vibes, consensual hair pulling/tugging (but nothing painful)

A/N: established relationship, Tup is not a virgin, two people in love fucking including aftercare, hopefully this is okay my brain wasn’t braining as well as I wanted it to but I so badly wanted to write some Tup

Note that there are two versions of this story.  The F!reader version can be found here.

Tup came through the door, walked directly toward you, and straddled your lap.  He cupped your face and kissed you deeply.  You smiled through the kiss, heart beating fast at both the feeling and the memory of the sexy comm messages he’d sent earlier.

He kissed your neck, just below your ear and whispered, “I want you to fuck me.”  He nipped your earlobe and told you he’d be ready and waiting. He got off your lap and headed toward the bedroom.  You smiled at him, fire in your eyes, as he walked away.  You quickly followed, finding him naked and facing the bed.  You wrapped your arms around him and kissed his shoulder.  Tup helped you out of your clothes and kneeled in front of you.

“You know how I like it,” he said, licking your cock from base to tip.  You inhaled sharply, feeling your heart pound.  You felt a familiar warmth radiate throughout your body.  Whenever he touched you, it sent sparks all over you.  He looked up to you, his dark brown eyes starting to beg.  “Please, my love,” he said softly.

He started lightly sucking the tip and you let your fingers tangle into his hair.  He took you further into his mouth and your body vibrated as he hummed.  His hair felt so soft, the mess of curls pulled into a bun wrapping around your fingers.  You started to tug lightly, loosening the bun enough for your hand to massage his scalp underneath.  Tup responded by taking one of your balls into his mouth while pumping your length.  He gave the other one the same treatment and grinned as he pulled away slightly, thrilled by the way your thighs trembled.  Holding on to your hips, he put his lips around your cock and started sucking on it gently before bobbing his head, responding when you gripped his hair a little tighter.  

The feeling was becoming too much. You didn’t want to finish this way, this early, and backed up to the bed.

“Your turn,” you said to him.  “Sit.”

He sat down, trying to calm himself for what he knew was coming.  You wasted no time, taking his length in your hand and swirling your tongue around the head in a way you knew would drive him wild. You left little kisses on his thighs and around his balls, the light touch causing him to moan your name and spread his legs a little further.  

“That’s right,” you said between kisses on his length, “You’re gonna be spread wide for me when I fuck you.”

Tup let out a whimper at the thought, smile across his face.  You started to suck his cock, hollowing your cheeks between light teases with your tongue.  He relaxed further, opening his heart and body to you.  You smiled to yourself at the thought of how shy he had been, how shy you both had been, when you first started having sex together.  Now you couldn’t keep your hands off each other.

You pulled away and looked up at him.  The sweet look in your eyes turned to a wickedly playful fire.

“On your knees,” you said, standing up and gently pushing him further on to the bed.  While he got into position, you slathered your cock in lube.

“Ready for me,” you asked.

Tup nodded and threw his head back a little and you knew he wanted you to grab his hair.

“Patience,” you encouraged.  He wiggled his butt a little and you slowly pressed your cock into his ass.  He let out a happy sigh as you sheathed yourself completely.  With your lubed hand, you reached around to start stroking him in rhythm to your thrusts.  Tup shivered at the sensation.  He let out a little moan when you reached for his hair with your other hand.  Many romps in the bedroom had made you an expert at letting his hair loose while you fucked him and it certainly paid off now.  Your thrusts never waned while you reached forward and undid his bun, hair falling down his shoulders.  You started running your fingers through his hair, pausing the handjob on his length, but still continuing to pound into his ass.

“Love it,” he gasped. “Feels so good.”

“You’re so good to me,” you said, “So gorgeous like this. I love when your ass cheeks jiggle against me.”  You ran your hand through his hair again before holding on and making him moan louder.  You closed your eyes, relishing the feeling of Tup.  Every part of you wanted every part of him.  Time didn’t matter, but you tried making yourself last as long as possible.  You didn’t want this feeling to end.  You kept going, smiling with each vocalization that accompanied you playing with his hair.  You reached around again to grab his cock and again started stroking him in time with your thrusts.  Tup let out a series of moans that told you he was close.  You slowed down and stroked his hair a little.

“I want to see you, Tup.”  

You left his body and kissed him between his shoulder blades and he whined at the loss of contact, but laid down and rolled over, leaving ample room for you to reenter him.  He reached down to touch himself and you leaned down on your elbows.  You kept the rhythm slow and a lazy smile spread across his face before moans overcame him again.  He threw his head back into the pillow and came all over your chest and stomach.  You took in the scene and whispered praises to him.  He reached up to grab your ass and encourage you to enter him more fully.  You leaned down and kissed him, gently reaching to touch his hair and face as you came inside him.  He brushed light kisses on your nose and looked up at you as if you hung the stars.

“I love you,” he said.

“I love you too.”  You stayed there as you started coming down from your high.  Your limbs felt floppy and you were both covered in a thin sheen of sweat.  You left his body, but he wrapped his arms around you, letting you lay on his chest and listen to his heart beat.  He kissed your forehead and let out a satisfied, deep breath.  

“Shower with me,” he said.  “Then let’s get dinner.”  He kissed your forehead again.  You looked up at him and warmly smiled.  You didn’t want to leave his embrace, despite the mess you’d made between you, but a shower with the love of your life sounded nice too.

[cacodaemonia]

source

[image id: The text "how it feels to write a serious fanfic when one of the characters has a stupid name" is above a photo of a man sitting in front of a laptop and cracking his knuckles. He's wearing a rainbow-colored clown wig and a red clown nose, both of which have been photoshopped into the image. end id]

[ariadnes-red-thread]

AHHH my mind is blown seeing my blog’s name next to these other great writers!! Thank you so so much for the mention 😭❤️

Hi! I love your blog and I was wondering if you have any Clone Wars writer recs? I feel like I've read all the fics from all the more popular writers but I'm sure there's other awesome writers I don't know about and I was hoping you or any of your followers could help me find some of them! Really jusy anyone who write XReader fanfic for any clones, and thank you so much in advance!

Thank you so much and I'm so glad you enjoyed my blog! Hmm....there are a lot of really good fic authors out here. I'll tag a bunch for you to go look at and if anyone else has any recommendations feel free to reblog! (I'm not sure of your age since you're anon but a few of these are 18+)

@zoeykallus

@nahoney22

@eyecandyeoz

@kaminocasey

@rainydaydream-gal18

@rain-on-kamino

@moonstrider9904

@wild-karrde

@ladykatakuri

@thebaddestofbatches

@lexixwan

@moodymisty

@wanderinginksplot

@the-silentium

@skyvaikers

@saberdeity

@echos-newlegs

@luxcuriousao3

@ariadnes-red-thread

@ghostofskywalker

@neon-junkie

@grievouus

@snippy-tano

@book-of-baba-fett

@clone-wars-imagine-2

I'm probably missing so many good ones but y'all feel free to reblog with any I missed!

[mae-lou-ron]

🩵 Mae’s Master List 🩵

Ratings Legend

🌼 Fluff ❤️‍🩹 Hurt / Comfort 💔 Angst 🔥 Suggestive / Smut / NSFW / MDNI 📚 Long Fics / Chaptered ⚡️ One Shots / Quick Reads

✨my rules of engagement here✨

👇Links below the cut👇

🚧 under construction 🚧

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

Crosshair

A Friend Indeed 🌼❤️‍🩹⚡️ (feat. big bro Wrecker) Two years after settling on Pabu, Crosshair still grapples with recurring nightmares and sleep paralysis. Despite his reluctance to open up, Wrecker's efforts help Crosshair discover unexpected comfort in familiar places. -

A Little Kindness, pt. 1 🌼❤️‍🩹 It’s been a few months since Crosshair and his family returned from Tantiss for the last time. Settling into civilian life hasn’t been easy, but one Pabu resident shows Crosshair some kindness that makes him want to try. -

A Little Kindness, pt. 2 🌼❤️‍🩹 (WIP)

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Tech

Back To Sleep 🌼❤️‍🩹⚡️(inspired by ghostymarni’s gorg Tech artwork here!) After some bad dreams interrupt your sleep, you find some unexpected comfort in your beloved partner, Tech.

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Wolffe

Keeping You Around 🌼❤️‍🩹⚡️ Commander Wolffe's assignment to embark on a reconnaissance mission takes an unexpected turn when he finds himself stranded with you—a development he was far from prepared to deal with.

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Rex

More Than That 🌼💔❤️‍🩹⚡️ Something has been on your mind, but you should have known your lover in secret, Rex, would see right through you.

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Boba Fett

The Protectors of Tatooine 🌼❤️‍🩹🔥📚 (WIP)

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Cobb Vanth

Old Friends, New Friends 🌼❤️‍🩹🔥📚 (WIP)

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Questions? My DMs are always open!

[moomoog017]

headcannons ᯓᡣ𐭩 commander wolffe

commander wolffe x gn!reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[techs-goggles9902]

Hi. I read that you're in your Captain Rex phase, so for a request, how about he x F! Kix's assistant doctor where is her birthday and Hardcase, Fives and Jesse convince her to celebrate on 79s. She doesn't drink, so when she does this for the first time she ends up confessing her feelings for Rex to his brothers and at that moment he listens. Rex takes her home and takes care of her. And maybe when she's sober they can talk about it, and she finds out that Rex feels the same way about her. ♥️

I Like You - Rex/f!medic reader

REQUESTS ARE OPEN! SEE MASTERLIST FOR DETAILS. I WRITE FOR ALL LISTED FANDOMS BTW

Warnings: alcohol, mentions of syringes (but not used, just thrown away)

Word count: 1544 (dialogue heavy)

A/N: sorry I took a few days! It took me a while to figure out how to write this since I’ve never drank or anything, so a lot of googling! I hope this is what you meant! I’d be happy to rewrite it if you’re not happy!!! ❤️

“Stitches!”

You turn at the call of your name. Well, nickname. Ever since the Republic needed more medics and you came into the 501st family, that’s been your name. The men gave each other names, and they saw fit to give you your own.

“Fives, hey. Did you need somethin’?” You ask as you pick up another discarded syringe from underneath a gurney. The last battle was brutal, with so many fatalities. So many men. Troopers. Friends. Brothers.

“What, I can’t just come and say hi to my favorite medic for no apparent reason?” He smirks. You give him a look.

He folds, “Fine. Well… ‘Case and Jesse told me it was your birthday. Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I didn’t want to make a fu-”

“Don’t lie. I know how you and the other nat-borns avoid birthdays around us. It’s not like we’ll get offended, Stitch. It’s your birthday!” Fives grins and shakes your shoulders enough to make you smile back.

You give him that little shy smile of yours and his gaze softens from excited to empathetic.

“Can we take you out tonight? Not as a date, of course. You have someone in mind for that, don’t you, Stitch?” He waggles his eyebrows at you.

“Shhh! Shut up, we don’t talk about that…”

“Okay, fine. But, please, Stitch? Hardcase and Jesse would be devastated. You don’t want to crush their hearts, do you? Do you?”

“Oh, Fives, you… Fine! I can’t take your begging and pleading. You’re buying,” you say with a grin, walking away to discard the syringe. Fives follows you.

“We have a couple hours until we get home, so… Uh… Do what girls do,” he says.

“Okay, okay! Get out of here already, Maker…” You laugh as Fives hugs you from behind and runs out of the medbay before you can throw anything at him.

Why did I even say yes? I’ve never even touched alcohol and now I’m surrounded by it. I swear, if I’m dragged back to the barracks, I’m killing all three of those idiots.

“Stitch! Over here!” You’re called from a small booth in the back of 79’s. You’ve been to this bar a multitude of times over your two year career in the 501st, but you’ve ever had a drink here. You were, as Hardcase calls it, the designated driver.

You approach the booth, weaving between drunk troopers, their civilian dance partners, and server droids. Fives, Hardcase, and Jesse already had drinks in their hands as you slid in the booth next to Jesse.

“Finally made it. Ordered you a drink,” Hardcase says with his little grin.

“Too kind, good sir,” you retort, shoving Jesse to give you more room in the booth. He shoves back with a smirk.

The server droid quickly delivers your drink, a colorful cocktail with various sugary fruits on skewers balancing on the rim of the glass.

“How can you guys even afford this?” Your jaw goes slack at the sight of the drink.

“Bill it to the Republic!” Fives yells, raising his own glass in the air. Hardcase and Jesse reciprocate, thrusting their glasses in the air, spilling a bit of its contents on the table top.

“Sure, sure, yeah,” you giggle, slightly raising your glass so you don’t knock off the fruits.

It started with the cocktail. Then a few shots of Spotchka. Then some Corellian ale you’ve seen in holo-commercials. The four of you couldn’t even walk straight, but did it matter? It was your birthday and your first time experiencing the feeling of alcohol flowing through your veins.

The buzz kept you upright, kept you awake, kept you partying.

What if he was here… heh, we’d have fun… A lot of fun.

“So, who’s this mystery man we’ve had to hear so much about, Stitch?” Hardcase slurs.

“Oh my Maker… He’s. So. Fine. No, seriously, you don’t understand, ‘Case. And, he’s so nice…” you sigh dreamily.

“Oh, it’s me?” Jesse laughs.

“No… c’mere,” you beckon, the three clones leaning in with wide eyes. “It’s Rex.”

“Ha! I knew it! Stitch likes Rex!” Fives cackles, raising his empty glass in the air. Hardcase’s eyes go wide and he nudges Fives’ ribs with his elbow and points to something, or someone, behind you, in front of them.

“Wha… Oh. Hey, Captain… Didn’t know you were gonna be here…” Fives says, quickly lowering his arm, his face turning a deep scarlet.

Your breath stops halfway to your lungs, your blood running cold. Did he just say captain-

“Different Rex, of course. You know, that one dude… He’s uh… Over there somewhere…” Hardcase quickly says, pointing somewhere across the dimly lit bar. Fives and Jesse turn their attention there as well, all murmuring under their breath about the nonexistent other Rex.

“Okay, I think Stitch has had a bit too much to drink tonight. You’re obviously not getting home by yourselves anytime soon,” Rex says, curling his fingers around your upper arm and easing you to your feet.

“Rex, I, uh…”

“Stitch, don’t worry about it. Let’s get you home, yeah? Let you sober up for the night,” Rex gently pulls you away from the booth, the drunk trio of clones still trying to point out the different Rex. None of them notice as Rex takes you out the backdoor.

“What’s your passcode?” Rex asks as he comes to a stop at the door of your apartment, ready to type in your code.

“7-5-6-7,” you recite, your cheeks burning a bright pink. Rex raises his brows with a little chuckle and pulls you inside, shutting the door behind you.

“Let’s get something non-alcohol related into your system. You have water in the conservator?” He asks, gently pushing you onto a kitchen chair.

“Mmhmm.”

He finds a bottle of water and a ration pack, opens both, and places them in front of you.

“I want them both gone,” he firmly says as he slides in the seat across from you. He watches, making sure you eat and drink everything. “Happy Birthday, by the way.”

He said Happy Birthday to me. He said Happy Birthday to me. He said Happy Birthday to me. He said-

“Thanks.”

Once the ration pack is eaten and the glass is empty, Rex cleans up, ordering you to the bedroom. You sit on the bed, not wanting to go and find your pajamas, not wanting to clean off your makeup.

“C’mere,” his soft voice coos. It’s music to your ears, the way his accent makes him pronounce the sounds just a tad differently.

He grabs a wipe from your adjacent bathroom and gently wipes away the cosmetic gunk you painted on your face. You just barely hear him whisper, “Don’t see why you need it. You’re beautiful without it.”

The words bring warmth to your chest, butterflies to your stomach, happy thoughts to the mushy thing between your ears. He called me beautiful…

He turns away as you change into just your undershirt, hiding the rest of your body beneath the covers of your bed.

“Ah ah! Not on the stomach or back. Your side, Stitch,” he says, turning around and pushing you onto your side, piling pillows to keep you in position.

“But what if I like sleeping on my tummy?” You ask, trying to roll over to face him. He sighs.

“And you think I’m a difficult patient?”

“But… What if I get uncomfy?”

“Hon, lie still, please.”

“Bu-”

“No.”

You pout, jutting out your bottom lip. Rex smiles. “You’re cute like this. Get some sleep, Stitch.”

He called me cute…

Waking up with a skull crushing headache made you rethink going out in the first place. The nausea hits you as you sit up, your head spinning. The Coruscant sun spills through your translucent curtains, illuminating your bedroom.

The sounds of passing speeders whirling past your windows are muted by the durasteel walls. Someone, a man, sits in the chair beside your window, his face is slowly revealed as the sun rises higher.

Rex… he stayed with me… Aw, he’s sleeping…

“Mmm… Finally ‘wake…” he says, his husky voice laced with sleep. His eyes crack open and his drowsy hazel irises look upon yours. “Feeling okay?”

“Did… Did you sleep there?”

“Mmhmm… I didn’t wanna intrude. It’s your bed,” he says, rubbing his eyes with his calloused hands. “But how do you feel?”

“Hungover, I guess.”

“First time?”

You nod. “About what I said last night…”

“Hey, no. Don’t apologize, okay? I… like you, as well, Stitch,” Rex says, coming over and sitting beside you on your bed, the mattress dipping beside you.

“I- What? You do?” Your eyes widen, everything that happened, every little thing he cooed in your ear the previous night, all of it comes back. He called you cute. Beautiful.

He nods, wringing his hands in his lap, a shy smile tugging at his lips. He turns slightly to face you, the two of you subconsciously leaning in. Your lips part as your eyes drift down to his own lips, his tongue quickly wetting them.

“I really like you, Stitch…” He murmurs as he leans in closer.

“I really like you, to-” You’re shut up by his lips pressing against yours.

Maybe I won’t kill the idiot trio, afterall…

Taglist: @will-is-silly @fionajames @sevdidntdie @hellhound5925 @dangraccoon @skellymom

Please lmk if you want to be added or taken off the taglist!

Dividers by @ saradika

[ariadnes-red-thread]

Hi all! So, February marked six months since I joined the fandom, and this little blog that I never thought anyone would ever click on somehow has 150 followers. I’m so blown away by the community I’ve found here and the friends I’ve made. I love you all 💕

I’m not sure how much interest there is for this but I’m going to do a little celebration with some x reader ficlets! Requests are open until March 24th. I write primarily for the clones in the The Clone Wars and The Bad Batch eras but am open writing for other Star Wars characters. Send me an ask with one or two characters and a line of dialogue. Can be SFW or NSFW. For NSFW especially, please specify gender preference for reader and respect my DNI below. Here’s some spicy smut prompts if you’re looking for inspiration!

Here’s to many more months and beautiful interactions with all of you lovely humans!

***Please respect my DNI, especially with NSFW requests. No m*ster/p*dawan, clonec*st, r*xsoka, non-c*n, or m*nors and if you request Jar Jar, I’ll delete my account (sarcasm but I will definitely log off the internet for the day)***

[clone-anon]

Could you maybe do something like jedi Reader comforts Rex after Umbara?

You got it!

A/N: Can be read as a platonic relationship. Includes platonic bedsharing with multiple clones.

You wandered throughout the barracks after meeting with several jedi generals. You were headed back to the temple when you saw Rex. You tried greeting him with a smile, but he looked devastated and angry at the same time. He looked at you and tried softening his features.

"I heard," you said, referring to Umbara.

Rex shook his head and looked away. You sensed his devastation.

"So many good men are gone," he whispered.

You put a hand on his elbow and guided him to sit down in the nearby mess hall. You put a hand on his shoulder and waited for him to speak. His grief weighed so heavily, you weren't sure how he was still going. Rex leaned toward you and allowed you to wrap your arms around him. He started listing the names of all the men he knew were gone and then Dogma, whose future was unknown.

"None of this should have happened," he gritted through his teeth.

"I heard about Krell." You refused to call him a master any more. "Some of the other masters are concerned he may have influenced other jedi. I hope not."

"He had a reputation for not caring about the clones," said Rex, "and I shouldn't have pushed that fact aside as long as I did."

"You're loyal, Rex. You're an excellent leader and soldier. Don't blame yourself."

You wiped away an escaped tear. You sat there with him as time ticked on. You weren't leaving that night. You, Rex, Fives, Tup, and Jesse pushed some mattresses together on the floor of their barracks. You slept together, holding on to him. Everyone laid in a pile and fell asleep. They just wanted to stay connected and hope that they could keep going on.

[ariadnes-red-thread]

Erin I’m so mad at myself that it took me so long to read it but I wanted to have time to sit down and read it and BOY AM I GLAD I DID 😍

1) I WOULD DIE FOR JUNE. I love her. The way she would fight for Keeda but knows when and how to comfort her… she has my WHOLE heart.

2) The way Keeda and Fox both have the same reaction to each other 😭😭 They’re both so head over heels before they even saw hello and I’m OBSESSED with their love ❤️

3) THE ENDING KILLED ME. ABSOLUTELY SWOONING.

I MEAN….

I’m so in love with this story and I can’t wait to see where it goes! Especially with what you do with Wolffe, the 104th, and Keeda.

Sweet True Lies: Chapter 3

Two Truths and a Lie

Paring(s): Fox x OC: Keeda Ionza (FINALLY!)

Characters: F!Reader/OC: Keeda Ionza, OC: June Makano, Commander Fox, Commander Thorn

Summary: Gala time!

Rating: This chapter is G (series is rated E)

Warnings: Light Angst, Fluff, Romantic Fluff

Word Count: 7.2k

Ao3 link

A/N: Hello and welcome to chapter 3! Sorry it took so long to write, but hopefully, it will all be worth it!

There is another new OC I'm bringing into this fic. Her name is June Makano. Check her out here!

Reblogs are greatly appreciated. Enjoy!

Two Truths and a Lie

You gasped as you jerked yourself awake, looking around and briefly wondering where you were. You’re in your old room. Relax. You’re okay. you told yourself as you got your bearings.

An annoyed meow came from the black-striped lump of tan fur next to your feet as you reached over and grabbed the remote on your nightstand, reducing the dark opaque tint of your windows to let in the morning light. “Sorry, Chuffs,” you apologized to your mother’s lazy tooka cat.

You squeezed your eyes shut against the harsh light bouncing off Coruscant's surface, and nestled yourself back into your cloudy pillows, not quite ready to leave the warmth of your large bed. Chuffs stood up briefly and stretched languidly as the light reached her, giving you a curious look before settling back down in her warm spot with a purr.

Scrunching your fingers through your tangled hair as you took in the morning, your thoughts wandered back to the dream you had been having. It had not been unpleasant—quite the opposite: Someone’s strong arms had pulled you close with whispers of reassurance and safety, enveloping you with so much warmth you could have melted into them.

You mused over it for a moment, twisting a bit to look at your upper arm and wondering why you had such a comforting dream after such a tumultuous night. As you prodded the bruise-free skin to check for any residual soreness, you figured a nightmare would have been more fitting, but none had come.

“Good morning, Mistress Keeda,” N2’s soft, high-pitched, mechanical voice said as he entered your room. He was holding a breakfast tray laden with what looked like muffins, scrambled nuna eggs, sliced shuura fruit, and your favorite tea.

You stretched and yawned before sitting up, realizing absently that you had slept a lot further into the morning than you normally did. “Morning, N2. What’s all this?” you asked, untangling yourself from your blankets and trying not to disturb Chuffs a second time.

“Oh, Mistress Sareel was insistent that you have something to eat before you leave,” N2 replied.

You rubbed your eyes groggily as N2 set the meal down on the bed beside you. Your stomach rumbled loudly as you smelled the fresh, berry-laden muffins and fluffy eggs, remembering how little you had eaten the night before.

Sipping your steaming tea and nibbling a muffin, you pulled your datapad into your lap and skimmed the news as you did every morning. Articles of the army’s latest victories and defeats rerouting trade and travel hyperspace lanes littered your screen, but you found your mind wandering back to your dream. It was fading quickly as you fully woke, but the sense of security of those imaginary arms around you had greatly lessened your anxiety.

“Is there anything you require before I begin the household chores, Mistress Keeda?” N2 asked, carrying your hamper from your bathroom.

“No, thank you, N2. You have done plenty for me already,” you replied, giving the droid a smile. You knew N2 could not actually feel emotions—he was simply programmed to respond—but you had always been polite to him.

As you began eating your breakfast, you sent a quick text comm to June, telling her you would be stopping by to check on the flowers, and you also took the opportunity to recount the details of your previous evening to her. You knew she was working, and therefore could not call you, but you received several long replies full of enraged expletives and exclamations anyway. June had always been hotheaded, but she would have blown off a lot of that steam by the time you arrived if you did not rush.

You took your time in eating and dressing, savoring the morning for once, and sinking back into your thoughts. Nothing about the war had slowed down the charity foundation’s work, but it had physically condensed it to Core Worlds as new battle maps were drawn every day in the Mid and Outer Rims. The charity had also been forced to cut its ties with Separatist worlds, though you knew some of the outposts on those worlds had continued to function without proper funds, manned now only by the very people they had been constructed to help.

With the organization now officially partnering with the GAR, however, the work could continue on Loyalist worlds outside of the Core. You had already received the information about the battalion you would be attached to for the foreseeable future, and you sincerely hoped the clones would accept working with you. Deep down, you had been a little worried they would always see you as an outsider.

An hour later found you stepping out of a taxi and onto a wide, sunny pedestrian walkway. The air was still chilly, but the sun managed to take the bite of the wind away. A long, tall greenhouse stretched down the length of the block before you, made entirely of glass walls and windows—just one of ten identical buildings laid out parallel to each other. A much smaller, older structure sat at the end of the first building, with a glowing sign projected onto the ancient-looking brick that read ‘Makano Greenhouses,’ and you made your way to the door.

The air inside the main shop was warm and damp, and it was like stepping into an entirely different world. The fresh scents of thousands of varieties of flowers, vegetables, fruits, and shrubbery the Makano family had grown for nearly two centuries in their greenhouses all wafted to greet you, spiriting you away from the ecological barrenness of Coruscant. You suspected the shuura fruit you had eaten for breakfast had come from these greenhouses.

Inhaling the perfumy fragrances deeply, you pressed the service button on the front desk, taking the time to admire all the glittering vases, fruit baskets, and pre-arranged flower displays already up for sale.

“Be there in a second, Keeds,” a light feminine voice said, echoing through a speaker. True to her word, a few moments later, a curvy young woman with bright ginger hair and equally bright hazel eyes came jogging in through the shop’s back door. “Fucking hell, girl,” she greeted in typical June fashion, wiping her hands on a rag and pulling you into a tight hug. “You nearly gave me a heart attack this morning with your message. How’re you holding up?”

“Hi, June,” you replied. You hugged her back, glad to see her initial, explosive temper had cooled already. “I’m coping, could’ve been worse,” you added dismissively. The residual anxiety must have still been shining through your expression because June cocked a disbelieving, fiery eyebrow at you.

June Makano was the latest generational owner of her family’s greenhouses and your best friend from your time at university. Although the greenhouses were an incredibly lucrative business over the centuries—being one of the last few remaining places on-world providing food and décor to Coruscant’s upper classes—the Makano family had used them as a cover for less legitimate business for just as long.

Despite your knowledge of this, June had become like a sister to you over the years. It still baffled you to no end how she was always able to know exactly how you felt, reading you like an open book. The way she pursed her lips at you was another classic indicator that she knew you were still not all right, so you huffed out a tired breath and rested against the counter, ignoring it.

“I’m not gonna make you talk about it,” June said quietly, “but you know I’m here if you need to.” She rubbed your arm affectionately, and the gesture warmed you. “You know I can still get Naiyo to deal with him, too, right?”

You chuckled dryly and rolled your eyes. “No, thanks. I don’t want your rum-running twin brother and his gangsters getting themselves into any trouble on my account.”

“The offer stands,” June said in a singsong voice, effectively dropping the subject. “Now, come on, let me show you the flowers for tomorrow.”

June led you through the back door and past the greenhouses to an enormous workshop. It looked equally as ancient as the main shop with all its exposed brick and dark steel rafters. Specialized droids hovered about, arranging several varieties of colorful flowers into garlands, bouquets, and centerpieces for the gala. You recognized some of the larger flower varieties, but there were also tiny, shining white blossoms on wiry vines mixed into the bouquets that were unfamiliar.

“Let your mum know the arrangements will be delivered this afternoon, and I’ll be there personally tonight to make sure they’re set up properly,” June said, taking a bundle of the blossoms and handing them to you. “These would look really pretty in your hair tomorrow.”

The little flowers gave off a delicate, but musky sweet scent, unlike anything you had smelled before. “What are these?” you asked curiously. They were surprisingly resilient, despite being so small.

“They’re a variety of peace blossoms from Naboo,” June explained, lifting the end of a garland into a transport crate. “Your mum asked for those particularly, so I had to use the hydroponic systems and pure light to get them to grow faster. She said it was to represent a quick end to the war with the help of all the relief volunteers.”

“Trust my mum to weave poetic symbolism into everything,” you mumbled, tilting the little flowers in your palm. Their sheen reflected a faint bluish-green hue beneath the milky petals. You heard June pause her work, and from her tone, you could tell she was worried. “You still don’t think I should have volunteered?”

June sighed and shook her shoulder-length orange hair out of its clip to readjust it. “I just don’t want you to get hurt or anything. Just because you’re only going on relief missions doesn’t mean it’s safe, Keeds. You could be attacked at any time.”

“You sound like my mum,” you muttered sardonically. You knew June meant well, but even she knew you had been screaming internally for months from being cooped up on Coruscant. “I’ll be with the troops the whole time. They’ll keep any droids out of my way, and I’m a decent shot myself,” you smirked.

June gave you a reproachful look, but she clipped her hair back up and shrugged. “Just… be careful. You’re my best friend.”

“I know, but you know exactly how badly I need to get off this kriffing planet. I need some fresh air, quite literally a different atmosphere. It’s beautiful here, in its own way, and it’ll always be home, but I need some change.” You stepped a bit closer and lowered your voice a notch, shaking your head, “And you were right before, June. I’m not entirely fine, especially after last night. Getting away right now is the best thing I can do.”

You could tell June was holding back her tears from the way she looked around rapidly and started chewing on her plump, pink bottom lip, so you pulled her into a more solid hug this time, aware that this may be the last chance you got before you shipped out after the gala. “I promise, I’ll be fine. When I get back, I’ll tell you all about it over caf at that greasy little diner you like so much.”

June chuckled, letting a tear escape as she embraced you tightly. “Hey, don’t shit on Dex’s. He’s got the best nerfburgers ever, just admit it.”

You parted afterward with a smile and a quick goodbye, leaving the greenhouses with the peace blossoms in hand. As you glanced down at them, you realized your nails could do with a manicure. Begrudgingly, you knew you needed to polish yourself up. Time to turn into a lady.

***

Tucking his towel around his hips, Fox wiped the steam from his mirror and pulled his razor out from his refresher cabinet. Two of the few benefits of being a Marshal Commander permanently stationed on Triple Zero were private quarters and access to hot water showers. It hardly made up for the multitudes of other issues he dealt with on a daily basis, but it was far better than the communal sonic showers his millions of brothers were forced to use in the field and on starships.

He wished he did not have to shave so soon, rather liking the way his slightly greying stubble always set him apart from his brothers, but he had no choice. He had to be as presentable as possible for the gala in a few hours, and he mentally cursed whichever senator had taken Thire from his post.

Fox resented the way many senators seemed to think the Corries were their personal bodyguards instead of elite clone shock troopers. The boys were constantly called upon, day and night, to escort senators and other public officials to wherever they wanted to go, regardless of the security details they were already provided. Even their underpaid aides were not called upon as often as the Corries were for menial tasks—the moment a senator needed to travel off-world or needed a kriffing lightbulb changed, they rang a Guardsman.

Pushing his dripping curls away from his face, Fox slathered his cheeks and jaw in shaving cream and began methodically scraping away his stubble, careful not to nick himself. He had finally managed to get a few hours of solid sleep after a brutally exhausting workout, and he had taken Thorn’s advice about dabbing some bacta under his eyes. He somehow looked a bit younger as his skin became smooth, and it reminded him of how young he technically was. Physically, he was only about twenty-five now, even if he felt like he was nearly a hundred most days.

Fox carefully eased a clean undershirt over his head, careful not to muss his freshly faded curls that he had slicked back into smooth waves. The ever-present greys in his once jet-black hair had ceased to bother him, especially because they seemed to be a date magnet on the incredibly rare occasions he took to venture out to 79s with his brothers.

He smiled to himself as he pulled on his dress greys, fondly remembering the night Cody and Wolffe had dragged him to the bar with every intention of getting him laid. They had no idea their youngest brother had spent the past year carefully observing the very politicians he loathed, watching their formal, charming interactions and quietly putting them into practice. He had a date within twenty minutes that night, and Cody and Wolffe’s jaws had been on the deck.

Part of his charm, he had learned, came with his expression of intention. Fox had never once led anyone on, making sure an unattached night was all a lady was to expect from him. It was not that he wanted to sleep around or that he did not have feelings, but he knew he had no time for a committed relationship—even if it never stopped him from wondering how nice one would be.

Fox rolled his muscular shoulders in the stiff, heavy fabric of his dress uniform and checked his appearance over one last time. Just another big fancy dinner. he thought to himself, tucking his cover under his arm and echoing Thorn’s words from a few days prior.

***

“You’re fidgeting,” your mother whispered concernedly as you exited the speeder after her.

You gnawed at the inside of your cheek as you looked around. The poshly dressed guests were arriving in droves, greeting each other with both genuine and faux smiles, la bise kisses, and graceful bows. As the gala’s unofficial host, you started to feel the pressure as eyes were beginning to turn toward you. The sickening clench of your stomach was hard to ignore as you slapped a practiced smile on your face. Silently, you resigned yourself to participating in high-class society, and you were sure the gooseflesh breaking out over your skin had nothing to do with the chill in the air.

“Just nerves,” you muttered, shivering slightly, and smoothing out your flowing dark green dress. You were glad you had chosen something with a loose skirt that you could both walk and breathe in as the latter felt rather difficult. Beneath your long hair, you felt your mother’s silk-gloved hand subtly adjust one of the X-crossed straps on your backless gown for you before looping your arm in hers.

“You’ve nothing to worry about tonight, darling. Just try to relax and enjoy yourself,” she said soothingly, ushering you inside and out of the chilly air.

As you made your way closer to the grand doors of the hall, you spied a few clones in their distinct red and white armor cleverly stationed in the shadows, and your nerves calmed a bit. Whereas many of Coruscant’s citizens had come to loathe the ever-present shock troopers, you found their presence to be a comfort, more so now than ever before. You wondered if the commander was among them, but before you could dwell on the thought, your mother was pulling you into the venue.

Her hand soothed along your bare forearm as you made your way into the dazzling hall, and the sight took your breath away. The hall was massive, and the cavernous, arching glass ceiling reflected thousands of fairy lights woven into the garlands and wreaths June had no doubt spent hours setting up.

The air was fragrant from the same little peace blossoms that were nestled in your fashionably twisted hair, and as the only source of light apart from delicate flickering candles on the dining tables, the tiny, softly twinkling lights created a calm ambiance that seemed to warm even the darkest corners of the hall. While you looked around, you noticed a familiar, friendly face illuminated by the glow.

“Oh, my dear, Keeda,” Henya greeted compassionately, coming around a large, ornately set dining table, and taking you into her arms.

You grinned happily for the first time that evening as the tall Twi’lek woman embraced you, and the soft fur of her shawl tickled your nose. “Hello, Auntie,” you replied.

“You look divine tonight. That dress does wonders for your eyes,” she complimented, but Henya’s striking yellow eyes held a trace of guilt as she pulled away. “May I steal her for a moment, Sareel?” she asked, turning to your mother.

“Of course, of course. I will find you later, Keeda,” your mother replied, giving you a quick peck on the cheek.

As your mother began graciously receiving the other guests, Henya took your hands in both of hers, and you could practically feel the emotion rippling off her. Even her long violet lekku were twitching restlessly as she searched for her words.

“You don’t need to apologize for anything, Auntie,” you said before she could speak. “What happened the other night, that’s not your fault.”

Henya sighed heavily, “I am still terribly sorry, my dear. You shouldn’t have had to endure that.” She paused for a moment, looking around before her eyes settled on a rather severe-looking couple taking flutes of dark blue, bubbling wine from a passing server. “I’m even more sorry to say that they would like to speak with you before the evening’s festivities begin.”

The pit in your stomach immediately gave way to a dull numbness that flooded through your limbs. The governor and his wife had come after all, but you were thankful there seemed to be no sign of their son. You breathed deeply, unlocked your knees, and felt your head clear. Might as well get this unpleasantry out of the way.

Striding forward with purpose, your father’s voice whispered in the back of your mind; Opportunity lies in even the most unlikely places. When he had spoken those words to you so long ago, you had not fully understood their meaning. But now, as Henya led you across the room, your sharp mind understood that the governor was about to ask something of you.

“Governor and Missus Gargeli, may I present Miss Keeda Ionza,” Henya said diplomatically.

While Governor Gargeli might have looked unyielding on the outside, his blue eyes were benevolent. His son had clearly inherited his looks from his father, but you refused to let it unnerve you.

“Miss Ionza, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he said authentically as he extended his hand to you.

“The pleasure is mine, Governor.” You shook his hand firmly, conveying your directness.

“It is an esteemed honor to be invited this evening,” he remarked, releasing you to allow you to shake hands with his wife. “Although, I do wish the circumstances of our meeting would have been less precarious,” Gargeli added softly and opened his arm to you. “May I?”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes as you were passed to yet another arm. Did people think you were unable to walk on your own? Despite being on his arm, you steered the governor to a quieter corner of the hall. You waited until you were sure the sharp click of your heels on the tiles was no longer audible to the other guests before pausing beside one of the massive bouquets that matched your hair.

The governor, for all his formal appearance, looked ashamed. “I want you to know that my wife and I do not condone our son’s actions,” Gargeli whispered gravely. “Pettri was brought up to be better than that, and I sincerely apologize for any harm that has befallen you.”

Pettri Gargeli. you finally remembered. That was that fucker’s name.

The governor’s Coruscanti accent was much thicker than your own, and you had to strain a bit to hear him over the growing hum of the other guests and the gentle classical music that was beginning to play. He had your full attention as he continued, “I also wanted to inform you personally that Pettri is no longer living on Coruscant, and he will not be returning. I’ve sent him back to my family’s homeworld, and he will be dealt with in a manner befitting his actions.”

You hid your relief well, only shifting your weight from one hip to the other as you took in the revelation, still surveying the incoming guests nonchalantly. You had been silently dreading seeing Pettri again, even in passing, and the weight of that fear dissipated from your shoulders. “I am grateful for the measures you have taken in resolving the situation, Governor.”

Gargeli tapped a finger on his glass rather anxiously as he scanned the room blankly. “I’m afraid I do have another motive for speaking to you privately this evening, Miss Ionza,” he confessed. He swiftly acquired another flute of bubbling blue wine from a passing attendant and handed it to you as a gesture.

Here we go. you thought, accepting the drink to let him know you were listening, and bracing yourself for his request. You already had an inkling of what it was.

“As you may know, the local elections in my district are not far off.” He paused to clear his throat to emphasize the point he was about to make. “If… rumor was to spread, a scandal such as this involving a member of my immediate family would potentially—”

“—Potentially negatively impact your reelection,” you interrupted gracefully, finally meeting the governor’s eyes again. Although the smile you wore was practiced and demure, your green eyes conveyed your perceptivity. “And if I were to guarantee my silence on the matter, perhaps our agreement could be mutually beneficial.”

An intrigued look crossed Gargeli’s aristocratic face, his thick mustache twitching up in interest. “Name your terms, Miss Ionza.”

Taking a long sip from your glass, you glanced back out across the room trying to look as casual as possible. “The Terreg Ionza Medical Foundation could do more work in your district if you would consider opening more public spaces to our volunteers and providing security,” you said lowly, your throat tightening a fraction as your father’s name passed your lips. “In the past, our volunteers have encountered significant resistance in underprivileged areas, largely due to threats of local gang violence. Not only would it guarantee my silence, but it would also benefit your constituents.”

The governor nodded pensively. “I assure you my campaign already supports the increased street surveillance in my district. I see the Coruscant Guard are here tonight,” he added as he skimmed over the room. “They have been immensely helpful in training new security forces, so any volunteers would be well protected. Perhaps my wife and I will become more regular contributors to the Foundation as well, to ensure their success.”

A wave of triumph surged through your heart as you raised your wine flute in a small toast. Despite how much you hated playing politics, you were rather reluctantly good at it. “To the mutually beneficial work of our organizations.”

“Hear, hear,” Gargeli replied, a formal smile full of admiration and respect for you working its way onto his face.

With a clink of your glasses, the deal was sealed. Gargeli would open his district more fully to the charity’s work, thousands of citizens would benefit from increased medical aid, and the charity would receive yet another new source of funds. All paid for with your silence.

“Please, Governor, enjoy the evening,” you said with a gentle, sweeping motion, effectively excusing yourself.

Gargeli gave you a refined bow before returning to his wife’s side, and you began mingling your way through the crowd. Several people whom you had worked with in the past stopped to chat with you, each offering their views on the latest cooperations with the GAR. Some approved, some did not, and some expressed their admiration for your willingness to volunteer, but each conversation seemed to draw on your energy reserves.

Even after dinner had been served—you were eternally grateful your mother had not chosen that awful seafood dish to be an option—and the dancing had begun, you were finding the evening to be rather tedious. You did your best to conceal it; however, there was only so much you could take.

Over the sounds of clinking glasses and light laughter filling the air, blending with the lilting music now echoing across the hall, you huffed out a weary sigh. You wished you had someone other than politicians and socialites to converse with—just someone who did not want anything from you. From the moment you stepped out of the speeder, tonight had felt more like work than the enjoyable evening you hoped for.

***

Fox froze and his heart stuttered against his ribs.

He knew from the moment he saw her; it was her. His eyes followed her every move as she wove between people, conversing briefly before moving on. They all parted for her, as though she were a goddess among mortals—even more beautiful than he remembered.

“The hell are you looking at, vod?” Thorn asked, noting Fox’s sudden change. His older brother’s heavy brows were nearly knit together, and his scarred lips were parted in an awestruck expression. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Blinking out of his stupor, Fox nodded in the young woman’s direction. “She’s here,” he whispered, almost disbelieving his own words.

Thorn studied the crowd from their secluded spot by the doorway to a large, covered veranda, trying to follow Fox’s eye line. “You’re gonna have to be more specific than that.”

“From th-the other night. She’s… uh… Long, dark hair, with little flowers. Green dress. It’s her,” Fox stammered.

His golden-haired brother looked back out to the crowd a second time, spotting her easily. “Oh, wow,” Thorn breathed. He knew Fox had not lied about her appearance a few days prior, but seeing her for himself, Thorn finally understood why Fox had been so taken with her. He snickered to himself because the Marshal Commander of the Coruscant Guard was currently staring like a love-struck shiny after their first night at 79s. “That’s really her?”

Fox just nodded. He could not look away. She wore a perfect, congenial smile like a mask and carried herself with the grace of a queen, but her closed-off, stiff body language made Fox want to throw himself between her and the rest of the room—if only to shield her again for a moment so she could breathe.

“Well, go talk to her, di’kut!” Thorn laughed, nudging his ori’vod with a sharp elbow. “She looks like she could use better company than these nat-borns.” Fox opened his mouth to protest, but Thorn stopped him. “Go. You’d be shocked to know the boys and I can actually survive without your constant vigilance for a while.”

Seeing her step out another door on the opposite side of the hall and onto the wrap-around veranda, Fox nearly sprinted out the door beside him—no thanks to a playful swat on the ass from Thorn. It felt like his heart was about to jump through his nose as he quickly strode to where she had withdrawn.

Okay… okay… What am I gonna say to her? he rambled internally. Just ask her how she is, yeah? Ask her if she’s all right. No, why would she be all right? It’s only been a few days since… No, no, just tell her… tell her she looks nice. She’d like to hear that. Right? Fuck. Fuck, I did not think this through! Nevertheless, his feet propelled him forward.

Fox had never had any issues talking to women before, so why was he so unexpectedly flustered now? He paused and pressed his back against the cool alabaster wall just before turning the final corner of the building. He straightened his spotless uniform and blew out a long sigh, puffing his cheeks. Pull yourself together, Fox. You’re a kriffing Marshal Commander. You can do this.

***

The muffled silence was a welcome relief as you stepped out of the hall and rested your hands against the sleek railing. The crowds had begun gathering around to watch those waltzing about on the dance floor, and the stronger liquor had begun flowing as a medley of desserts was served, but you had come outside to let Coruscant’s skyline dazzle you for the thousandth time instead.

Letting your eyes drift shut, you tried to savor the quiet moment, and soaked up the soft warmth radiating from the outdoor heater beside you. You could still see the twinkling fairy lights all around you from behind your eyelids, and you watched as they played across your blinded vision. If you had a chaise and a blanket, you would have been content to stay right there until the sun rose.

Tomorrow, there would be no skyline. There would only be the swirling blue and silver streaks of hyperspace, whisking you off to a war-torn world to deliver medical relief supplies, and you were eager for it. Like you had told June, Coruscant would always be home, but you needed to get away for a while.

Your moment was interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps that ceased a few yards behind you and to your left. You half expected to find yet another aristocrat asking you to dance when you opened your eyes, but you were shocked to your very core when you looked over your shoulder.

Him. It was him. The clone commander that had come to your aid.

You felt your eyes widen in surprise as he looked at you. He was clean-shaven now, and his tussled, greying curls had been elegantly styled back, but his honey-gold eyes still glimmered in the lights with the same care and warmth he had shown you just a few nights ago.

“You,” you breathed without thinking. Immediately, you cursed your impropriety and stumbled over your words. “I’m s-sorry. I-I meant—”

The commander cracked a roguish, bright smile, and his mouth pulled a touch more to the right because of the scar on his bottom lip. “It’s you,” he echoed softly, stepping closer. His voice was low and gravelly, and his eyes never left yours. “You look lovely tonight.”

He was trying to put you at ease, and you could not help the little grin that broke over your painted lips. “Thank you,” you replied, and you were powerless to stop the blush creeping up your cheeks. “Truthfully, I’d rather be elsewhere, though.”

“Really?” he asked, tossing his gaze back into the hall for a moment. “Even with all these fine, upstanding people here?” There was the slightest hint of sarcasm in his voice, and you instantly relaxed despite the sudden draft blowing across the veranda.

The commander came to stand beside you, blocking the breeze and looking out over the planet-wide city. Even while leaning down on the railing and without his signature armor, he was still so very tall and broad. His hard muscles filled out his uniform, pulling at the fabric and defining him perfectly. It made you wonder just how strong he was…

“Are you cold?” he asked thoughtfully.

You shook your head faintly as you were pulled out of your thoughts. You felt wholly safe beside him, as though he were an immovable wall protecting you from the chill in the air and from the prying eyes of anyone who dared to look at you the wrong way—just as he did before.

That inkling of guilt suddenly came crawling back. The last time you had seen this man, you had spoken so harshly to him, and you had feared you would never get the chance to apologize. “Commander, I… I never thanked you properly… for the other night,” you said rather sheepishly.

He gave you a slightly puzzled look and shook his head almost imperceptibly, his eyes immediately coming to rest on your face again. “There’s no need to thank me.”

“Yes, there is,” you insisted, gripping the railing. “You and your men helped me. Something much worse might’ve happened if you hadn’t been there, and I shouldn’t have been so coarse.”

“You had every right to be,” he assured. “I’m glad I was there to help you.”

You toyed with a silver ring on your index finger as you carried on, “In any case, it’s no excuse for my behavior. I hope you’ll accept my apology, Commander.”

He turned to face you fully, leaning casually on one elbow and eyeing you charmingly. “I will, on one condition.”

How can he still look so powerful when he’s relaxed like that? you asked yourself, waiting for his request. He had somehow changed the very air around you so quickly that you found yourself letting go of the ache in your chest.

“Tell me your name?”

Whatever he was doing to make you feel so calm was mesmerizing, but you could also tell he was being playful, so you decided to entertain him. You pursed your lips and gave him a cheeky grin. “All right then. Let’s see if you can tell if I’m lying or telling the truth. Have you ever played two truths and a lie?”

“Two truths and a lie?” he asked inquisitively.

You nodded, fidgeting with your ring again. “I’ll tell you three things about myself. If you guess the lie, I have to tell you the truth about the lie. If you guess wrong, it’s your turn.”

The commander cocked a brow at you and smirked. “Very well, ladies first.”

You chewed your lip for a moment in thought, before settling on your lie. “My mother is the chairwoman of the foundation hosting this gala. I had a pet tooka when I was a child. My name… is Alana. Which is the lie?”

The weight of the commander’s gaze was encapsulating. You felt drawn into the depths of those stunning eyes as he analyzed you. He left no inch of your face untouched with his gaze. “Your name isn’t Alana,” he said finally.

“You’re right,” you conceded with a giggle. “My name is Keeda.”

The commander did not say anything for a moment, but his expression noticeably softened. You were not sure he was going to say anything until he muttered a single strange word, one you suspected was not Basic.

“Sorry?” you asked.

“Mesh’la,” he repeated, a little louder the second time. “It’s Mando’a. It means ‘beautiful’.”

You were certain you were bright red with how hard you were blushing. His lips barely moved whenever he spoke, unlike so many others tonight that had tried to woo your attention with overly enunciated accents and pretty words. The true sincerity in his tone rang clear. His voice was so rich, like a lovely bass-baritone note—deep and smooth, matching the darkened gold of his irises. You could practically feel the resonance of it in your ears despite how softly his words were uttered, and you suddenly craved to hear it again.

“Y-your turn, Commander.”

He must have had his answers ready because he spoke without hesitation. “My favorite color is red. My name is Fox. I’m a particularly good dancer.”

You mulled that over. Would he lie about his name, too? you wondered. It seemed logical, but he could also have been trying to throw you off. He had never looked you in the eye at all, though, choosing to focus on the little flowers woven through your hair—undoubtedly the better liar between you.

Laughing lightly as you gave up trying to guess, you settled on his name. “I don’t think your name is Fox.”

He flashed that brilliant white smile again. It contrasted so beautifully against his bronzed skin, and for the first time, you realized that you were more dazzled by the handsome commander in front of you than the skyline you had come out to observe. His smile and eyes were even brighter than any of the lights twinkling around you, and he exuded an affection that quieted any troubles in your mind.

“My name is Fox,” he said truthfully.

“Fox,” you repeated, bowing your head in mock defeat. “You’ve bested me. Where’d you learn to lie so well?”

“You pick up a thing or two when you’re around politicians all—”

As if on cue, he was interrupted as a group of guests came out onto the veranda, laughing boisterously and talking amongst themselves. They were clearly trying to ward off the buzz they had going with the cool night air. Luckily, they wandered away to the other side of the hall, but the door they had opened let a new melody waft outside.

It was a slower tune, but just as grand and orchestral as the others that had been playing all evening. You swayed your weight from one foot to the other, feeling the skirt of your dress flutter around your legs.

It had been so long since you danced. Your thoughts wandered back to the last time your father had helped you push all the furniture out of the way and taught you the steps of several common waltzes in the middle of your living room.

“Dance with me?” Fox asked suddenly, holding out his hand to you.

When did he take his gloves off? “Another truth?” you asked, resting your hand in his palm. His hand was calloused and strong, but his fingers were long and warm as they closed around yours ever so tenderly.

The crowd had thinned a bit for the evening, and you suspected this would be one of the last dances of the night, but you were glad to share it with Fox. You gasped a little when you felt his other hand settle around your lower back beneath your hair. His fingertips felt like fire brushing against your air-cooled bare skin, but you settled into his hold easily as he began guiding you down the length of the veranda. The steps he chose were uncomplicated, but you were impressed with the natural skill he seemed to possess as he swept you down the length of the open space.

“You were definitely telling the truth,” you laughed, enjoying how easily you moved together.

He arched his left arm and twirled you out beneath it before stepping in and sweeping you back into his hold. “I have my brother to thank for that,” Fox admitted, slowing a fraction with the timing of the music.

“Don’t you have a million brothers?” you asked lightheartedly. Fox looked so different from the stoic commander you had first met. A single stray curl had fallen loose on his forehead as he spun you around himself, and he practically beamed at you.

“This one is special. He inherited all the natural dancing talent somehow, so we just copied him. He’s the commander of the 104th battalion.”

You nearly stumbled in surprise, gripping Fox’s burly shoulder for support, but he was quicker and caught you. He gathered you into a spin to let you recover, bringing your body flush to his. The rush of adrenaline you felt as Fox effortlessly lifted you right off your feet made everything a little fuzzy, but he kept you securely in his strong arms. You felt like a star could have exploded between you with the heat of your bodies pressed together, and you would have happily melted into it.

After gently resting you back on your feet, Fox was the first to break the contact—although he seemed incredibly reluctant to do so. But the music still played in the background, so he continued to lead you through the dance.

“I’m assigned to the 104th as their official volunteer,” you said quickly, remembering why you had stumbled in the first place.

Fox chuckled. “You’ll like Wolffe. We grew up together as batchmates. He’s very stubborn and gruff, but he has a good heart.”

“I look forward to meeting him.”

As the music ended, the hall burst into applause. The other dancers and guests began to say their goodbyes, but you simply stood there under the twinkling lights. You panted together from the exertion of the dance as he continued to hold you, and you drank in the woodsy, slightly spicy scent of him mixed with the fragrance of the flowers in your hair.

He was gently brushing the back of your hand with his calloused thumb, and you were about to thank him for the dance, but the commlink on his wrist beeped. Still holding your hand, he released your waist and turned his right wrist over to silence the beeping.

“Ah, forgive me. Duty calls.”

As his fingers brushed over the device, you noticed the knuckles on his right hand were slightly blotched with old bruises, but you put it aside in your mind. “I… I hope I’ll see you again, Fox.”

He grinned down at you and gave your fingers a delicate squeeze. “Me too. Be safe, Keeda. Do whatever Wolffe tells you to do.”

You felt a pang of longing as he released you and turned to join the other Guardsmen waiting in the shadows at the other end of the veranda. How long have they been standing there?

Suddenly, you remembered and called out to him, “Wait, Fox!” He was immediately before you again with a questioning look on his face. “Please, before you go… what’s your favorite color?”

Although he virtually towered over you, Fox took your hand again and bowed slightly, capturing your gaze once more. His lips were warm as he pressed an impossibly soft kiss against the thin skin of your knuckles, and a mixture of shock and delight flooded through your body. Smiling brilliantly at you one last time, he replied, “Green.”

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[beskarthief]

Chapter 12 of the Star Wars fic "Order 65". The rest can be found here.

19 BBY, Coruscant, Coruscant Underworld

 Rex was surprised to see the Senator back so soon. After hearing her talk about… him and all the watchful eyes up top, he’d expected her to stay away, at least for a little while. Lay low and offer the risky business of ferrying them supplies to one of her guards.

 Rex smiled a bit at the sight of her carrying crates onto the ship. Sometimes he forgot there were still good ones out there; willing to get their hands dirty and do their share of the work. 

 “Captain!” Chuchi called, catching sight of him as he stepped off his own ship. She set the crate she’d been carrying down with a small grunt of effort, wiping the back of one hand across her forehead. “Was your mission a-” 

 She broke off as Howzer and the others came into view behind him, following Rex down the ramp and into the landing bay. Her smile widened, and Rex let the elation of a successful mission buoy him for a moment.

 “Things are looking up, Senator.” he said. “Drixx’s intel was right. And we might have gotten another lead.” 

 Rex nodded to Echo, who was still clutching the data stick in his hand. 

 “We’ve got somebody who can crack this, no problem.” Rex told her. “At this rate we might actually be able to take the fight to the Empire.”

 “I knew you’d be able to.” Chuchi smiled, hefting the crate up again as she turned to Howzer and the others. “I’ll get this inside and then I’ll get out some food. You all must be famished.”

As she hurried off to finish loading the transport, Rex turned back to the others, offering to help them down the ramp and guiding them over to a clear spot on the floor of the bay where they could rest.

 “Some setup you’ve got here, Rex.” Howzer said, looking around.

 “Empire might think it's through with us, but they’ve got no idea what’s coming.”

 “Well, I know I for one am ready to take the fight to those bastards.” Howzer shook his head. “Half my men gone to who knows where because we didn’t turn on our own and the people we fought beside.”

 He sighed “I thought this war was over, Rex.”

 “Starting to think wars don’t end.” Rex said with a sigh of his own, sitting beside him and leaning back against one of the crates. “They just change faces.”

 “Maybe.” Howzer said, watching as Chuchi offered food to what remained of his men. “But at least we’re not alone in the fight. Maybe it could end. If we do it right.”

 “We were never alone.”

 “I’m not talking about our brothers.”

 “Neither am I.” Rex replied. “The Jedi-”

 “The Jedi betrayed us.”

 Images of General Skywalker and Commander Tano flashed through Rex’s mind. “They didn’t. They would never. You don’t know them like I do.”

 “Then where are they, Rex?” Howzer asked, and Rex couldn’t argue with that. “Even if they didn’t betray us, they abandoned us.”

 “We didn’t give them much of a choice.”

 They lapsed into silence, Rex’s thoughts wandering to where his general might be. He knew he was alive out there, somehow. It didn’t matter that he’d been on Coruscant when the temple was destroyed; General Skywalker was fine. For them to stand a chance, he had to be.

 In the end, they all settled in fine. It wasn’t long before Howzer and the others were helping to load the transport with supplies; getting everything ready for the transfer to the new base. Rex couldn’t help but think about what Howzer had said, though. Where were the Jedi? He refused to think they’d have abandoned them. That they really thought the clones who had fought loyally beside them for so long could turn on them in an instant. They must have known, he thought. The way Ahsoka had known. Known that something was wrong. That this wasn’t them.

 But if they knew, then where were they?

 Rex didn’t want to think about the alternative. That maybe there really were no Jedi left.

 “Captain?” a tap on his arm pulled Rex back into the present, and he turned to look at Chuchi. She offered him a tired smile.

 “I believe that's the last of it. I should be getting back.”

 “Thank you, Senator.” he said, and he meant it. “For everything.” 

 “It’s the least I can do.” she said, just like she always did. But then her expression turned businesslike again. “I’ll keep in touch with Drixx, pass along any intel we can gather.”

 Rex nodded his thanks, clambering up onto the shuttle. He couldn’t say he would miss Coruscant, but he felt something as the ramp began to climb up behind him. It hadn’t been home in a while. Rex hadn’t had a home in a while. None of them had.

 “And Captain!” Chuchi’s voice echoed from below and Rex glanced back down at her. She smiled. “Stay safe.”

 It was the last time he’d see her until the war was ending.

[cacodaemonia]

I'm sure someone else has done this, but