#tcw fanfiction

[crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf]

"To Rain and Caf Snobbery,"

Fox x F!Reader One Shot*

Summary:

The rain on Coruscant may be artificial, but the way it seems to guide you feels as natural as the force as it brings you to a chance meeting that quickly develops into something wild and unwise.

WC: 5390 - Read on Ao3

*this is just my general "mature rating" specifics:

Content Warning: A Little morbid, depictions of grotesque art and descriptions of dead bodies, smoking, sex in a morgue, unprotected PiV, biting, over-the-clothes, clothes-on sex, casual sex, rough sex.

*might revisit these two at a later date.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

You cursed as the downpour started. The artificial rain coming down on you in a torrent. You must've missed the notice, and it explained why the streets were so empty. 

Your heels made wet little splashes as you rushed for sanctuary signified by a blinking neon sign. It read “caf” with a simple cup, the steam rising in glowing alternation inside twisted glass. 

The door chimed an electric bell as you ducked into the dingy establishment, leaving a small puddle by the door as you brushed your wet hair out of your eyes. The place was nearly empty, the dark colors soothing despite the stale smell of death sticks in the air. 

You sat at the small bar and signaled for the barista who took your order for a cold brewed caf. 

While you waited, you pulled out your data pad… no new messages. 

You sighed, apparently forgotten. 

“Bad news?”

You jumped at the low rumble next to you. The voice came from a figure clad in a dark coat. He was bent over the bar, arms defensively cradling his own cup of steaming caf. You couldn't see much of his face, but the dark olive skin was marred with a patchwork of light scars. The hair falling over his forehead was streaked with a generous amount of gray. 

“More like no news,”

You muttered, putting the data pad back in your bag. 

“No news is good news in my world,”

“I'm sure…”

You were eyeing your new conversational partner, his intense eyes now looking at you over his folded arm. The chiseled silhouette held familiar features, though he wore them in a haggard kind of way. 

Clone.

Any problems you had of course would dwindle in comparison to one of these men… their short brutal lives. You didn't see many of their kind in this part of town despite your close proximity to the Senate and Garrison structures.  

Your cup of caf arrived, the ice sloshing as the barista gave it a flourishing swirl before setting it in front of you. Thanking him, you waited till he was a comfortable distance down the bar before drawing a mouthful through the straw. 

You winced, smacking your lips in obvious disappointment. They had let the carafe go stale. 

The clone chuckled at your displeased expression, a low and dangerous sound. 

“You should try mine,”

He slid the porcelain cup closer to you with what seemed like an air of playfulness. 

You were suddenly very aware of how cold you were, the steaming cup looking very inviting and making you regret your choice of a cold beverage. You flicked your eyes to the man's golden brown ones, there was no hint of malice but that didn't mean there was no cause for suspicion. You had seen him drinking from the mug himself though…

Ah, Kark it. If it's drugged it's drugged. 

You pulled the hot cup closer, tentatively taking a sip- 

And winced again. The swill was burnt and acrid. 

“Oh this place is just bad at making caf, isn't it?”

He laughed, a short barking sound, that complimented the gravelly rumble of his voice. 

“It might be, but it's still better than the stuff in the office,”

“That's a tragedy, I make much better at home,”

He laughed again, amusement dancing in his eyes. They were the usual shape and color for a clone, but they shone brightly in the moment, catching the light so that the soft reds and golds of the cafe lighting made them glow. 

“To rain and caf snobbery,”

He tilted the mug towards you before downing a swig. You took another gulp of your chilled drink, pursing your lips at the stale taste. 

The noise lifted as the scheduled downpour eased up. You glanced back at the man, and thought about your silent data pad. A wild and unwise idea lit through you. 

“You know, mister… uh…”

You looked over at him questioningly.

“Fox. Commander Fox,”

He offered his hand and you shook it,

“Charmed… you know, Commander, my place is nearby if you'd like to try something actually consumable,”

He arched an eyebrow, picking up his mug and downing the rest of the awful caf. The cup hit the counter with a over eager clink and he stood, gesturing with an extended arm,

“After you,”

You allowed him to guide you to the door, his hand at the small of your back warm as you stepped out onto the cold street. Though the rain had stopped, it was still windy and his long dark coat snapped around you as you turned towards your apartment. 

“What brings you down this way, Commander?”

“I like the cafes down here… no one tries to find me to put out fires, I get to take an actual breather,”

He reached into his coat, pulling out a crumpled death stick carton. Tapping it on his thigh, he bit at the protruding end before looking down at you with it hanging lazily between his lips. 

“You mind?”

“Not at all…Are you on a break now?”

A little disappointment flitted through you, thinking the handsome man accompanying you might have to leave your company soon. 

A small spark lit his features for a moment as he lit his vice, taking a long draw before releasing the smoke. A strong arm wrapped about your hips. 

“No, I'm off for the night, even more reason to be in hiding,”

He smirked conspiratorially at you, offering the lit stick. Fox held it steady as you drew the smoke into your lungs. He seemed pleased with that and you leaned into him as you led him through the streets to the building your flat was located in. That flicker of disappointment stirred into a flutter through your chest. You looked at the profile of his face again out of the corner of your eye, lit as it was by the burning embers. 

There was a prominent scar across his nose, a slight crook to it where it may have broken at some point. His chin was slightly more narrow than the clones on the propaganda posters. He flashed a smile at you, aware of your attention, giving you a glimpse of his canines- unusually prominent. You stifled a shiver as the warm glow of the light over your building's door settled over you. He crushed the spent butt beneath his boot heel as you made your way inside. 

The main floor of your apartment building was brighter than the cafe had been, and you suddenly became overly aware of your wet clothes clinging to you. The simple dress shirt stuck to your curves, leaving little to the imagination, the cold making your nip-

You tugged your jacket closed hurriedly. 

The doorman caught your eye as he took in your odd surprise guest. He narrowed his expression and you nodded at him so that he relaxed and settled back into his chair…but flashed the hand signal to call him if there was trouble. The concern warmed you a little as you made your way to the lift. 

The reality of the situation suddenly dawned on you as the doors slid shut and you found yourself alone with the commander. He was a complete stranger… you watched him out of the corner of your eye as the lift took you higher; chiming as it reached your floor.

The way his footfalls chased your heels brought an unbidden, nightmarish image of a scared child fleeing from the snapping jaws of a ghoul. You shook away the shadowy memory, the feeling of being hunted. Or at least you tried.

He was also watching you, an almost somber look of curiosity in his furrowed brow. It relaxed you a little, your pace down the hall became more sure. Not that he felt safe, quite the contrary… but you found you lacked fear for whatever danger he represented. Whatever trouble this was, you wanted it… were craving it. 

The heat of him felt intense through your wet clothes as he drew near while you tapped in the code to your door. His breath felt too close, the way it stirred the few dry strands of hair at your neck. 

Then you were inside. 

You kicked off your heels, swiping your hand up the wall panel to make the recessed lighting warm the room with soft light. 

Fox looked around at the dark colors of the flat, the dim, strategic lighting, the art spotlighted on the walls. He gave a small nod of approval. You could tell he was impressed and pride swelled in your chest, and a little giddy feeling, betraying your attraction to the man. 

“What do you do to afford a place like this?”

“It was part of my family's holdings, I’ve only moved in permanently since liquidating their estate.”

He raised a brow at that spurning you to add,

“They died,”

“Oh… I'm sorry,”

You shrugged your shoulders, 

“I'm okay, honestly I don't think I  was affected by it as much as I should've been… we weren't close.”

You took off your coat, draping it over the back of a chair. 

“If you don't mind, I need to change into something dry… then I'll get us that caf”

You turned to your bedroom, catching a soft mutter as you left,

“I mind a little…”

You smiled softly to yourself. 

~~~

When you reemerged to the living space, you found him under one of the lit paintings, the one centered to the space. It was tall, the gold frame almost reaching the high ceiling. 

He had removed his jacket as well revealing a dark red long sleeve that hugged his broad shoulders in a very pleasing way, highlighting his slimmer hips where it was tucked into the waist and of his dark denim pants. The scarlet coloring stood in contrast to the black leather gloves that gripped the back of the sofa he leaned against as he looked up at the artwork. 

“It's called, Grief of the Forceless,”

He turned, eyes flicking over the new black dress you had slipped into. The tight cut, flowing fabric shimmered like ink around your knees as you walked. You glided to his side to look up at the twisted imagery. 

The painting was a macab depiction of piled bodies, surreal, exaggerated- racked in obvious pain under a giant foreboding hand reaching over the horizon. It was all splashes of red, white lightning and burnt ashes. 

Fox nodded to himself idly. 

“I like it,”

Your lips quirked as you shared a glance with him, bemused but heavy with the question of, “what now?”

“How bout that caf?”

“Please… I'm dying to learn what a good cup of caf is like,”

The amused tone made you feel like he was teasing you, but it was hard to tell. Perhaps you simply didn't mind.

You padded over to the bar, and turned the nozzle on a line. 

“Hot?”

He nodded, now becoming engrossed with the bookshelves in the adjacent dining room. The paperbacks were expensive antiques. 

You pulled the handle, cold, rich colored liquid siphoning from a sealed canister in a fridge below the bar into the carefully poised mug. You watched him out of the corner of your eye as you lowered the steam wand into the cool drink. 

“Am I noticing a pattern here?”

Fox questioned, withdrawing a paper back, turning it to read the cover, then scanning through the list of digital titles. 

The caf in the mug started to froth. You made another cup for yourself and carried them to the dining room, offering one to the commander. 

“They’re all murder mysteries, can't get enough of them,”

“You like rather dark things, don't you?”

“Mysteries aren't that dark, Commander. They exist in a world we're no matter how clever or creative a killer is, they're always outsmarted by someone with just a little more wit and righteousness,”

He ran a finger down another book spine, nodding as he read the title,

“I suppose real life is much darker…”

“Much. Killers are rarely caught, murders go unsolved…”

“Hey now, I'm doing the best I can,”

He chuckled and you paused,

“You're with the Corries?”

You had had your suspicions but his nod confirmed them. He turned to you,

“Who were your parents? How'd they die?”

“It doesn't matter,”

“Humor me,”

“Their ship blew up on the dock, it took out the valets as well… no one was able to tell me if it was an accident or an assassination,”

“Would someone want to take out your family,”

“My father had his enemies, my mother too- though those wars were usually petty social affairs,”

He sighed,

“Sounds pretty standard,”

He took a swig from the cup you handed him, eyes widening in what you recognized as uncharacteristic delight. 

“That is good, it's so smooth,”

You smirked, pleased with yourself as you added some sweetener to your own mug from the container on the table. 

“Told you,”

He took another long sip from the mug, eyes on you as you leaned back against the table, facing him. 

The commander seemed to freeze a moment, a decision clicking into place behind his features. He moved to lean beside you, as if the morbid discussion before had awoken a sense of familiar solidarity in him stoked into something comfortable by the smooth caf. 

“So, tell me… why'd you bring me back to your place? You that proud of your brewing skills?”

His hand landed on the table next to yours, allowing him to lean into your ear as he spoke. 

“Hmm, maybe I was feeling a little reckless… and you were handsome enough to take a risk,”

“Risk? I'm the one alone in a stranger's home, how do I know you didn't spike the caf?”

His tone carried that gruff playfulness you were becoming accustomed to as his breath danced over the nape of your neck. 

“Mm, despite my interests I'm harmless, never even seen a dead body before- don't think I could handle making one,”

“Not even your parents?”

“There were no bodies to recover,”

…

“You want to?”

“Make a dead body?”

A puff of air against your neck as he silently laughed,

“See one… I can take you to HQ, I have one on hand, if it suits your… interests”

You hadn't really planned on leaving the flat, might've even been planning on convincing your new friend to stay the night,

“Wouldn't you rather stay here? Where we can get to know each other better… in private?”

His fingers moved, lightly brushing up your forearm.

“What's more intimate than looking into the face of death together?”

The offer was deranged, but the peevish look in his eyes, the smell of caf on his breath, it was tempting. You rose your eyebrow, surprised at yourself as you proceeded,

“Let me get my coat.”

“We'd better hurry,”

His voice followed you to where your jacket and heels were discarded, grabbing his own long coat from the back of the couch. 

“It sounds like they plan on hitting us with another downpour soon”

His words were punctuated by a sudden roll of thunder from above. 

~~~

He snuck you into the federal precinct through a service door after an oddly giddy jaunt through the dark, wet streets. Laughing as the rain started falling on the two of you, a lightning strike lighting your way. His hand was clasped firmly around yours, leading you with eagerness in every splashing step. 

The halls of the place were garishly bright, but mostly empty for the night. 

“The morgue is this way,”

He whispered, flashing you a grin, another glimpse of fang. His hand was still holding yours, pulling you along through the halls and it was making your heart race. The whole affair spoke of youthful mischief, sneaking into where you weren't supposed to be. 

As the two of you turned a corner, you ran into a clone decked in red armor, wings painted on the side of the scarlet helmet. 

“Fox? What are-”

The modulated voice cut short as the visor dipped over your form in its slinky dress. A growl of warning from the commander holding your hand and the soldier abruptly turned on a heel and hurried off in the opposite direction.

“Bring girls here often, Commander?”

“No, even more reason for him to leave me be,”

He led you to the end of the corridor, a marked door that he unlocked with a hurriedly typed code before ushering you inside.

The lights flicked on revealing a small, plain hallway of a room. The back wall was metallic, patterned with round latched doors spaced at even intervals. You heard the door click as Fox set a manual lock. No one would disturb you and a wave of nerves flipped through your stomach. It was one thing to be alone with the man in your flat, here was a different matter and for a moment you spared a thought as to what the kark was wrong with you. 

His hands softly gripped your shoulders through your jacket as he whispered into your ear,

“You ready? Can always back out now… if you're scared.”

Scared wasn't the word for it, and you had no interest in showing him your lack of resolve.  

“I'm fine… you sure this is okay though?”

“It's not… you shouldn't be anywhere near this place.”

He was pacing the short distance to the wall of doors. Cold lockers you now assumed. Him popping one of the latches with a loud “cachunk” as the door swished aside confirmed your thoughts. With a swift motion he reached into the cubby and pulled the drawer out. 

The metal shelf held a plasticine bag, translucent enough that you could make out the palid color of the flesh inside. He raised his brow at you as he reached for the zipper, almost as if he dared you to ask him to stop. 

As the bag came undone, you looked down at the face of the man inside. The look of death obvious in his sunken cheeks, the skin of his face and neck still bruised from whatever assault had killed him. 

“Who is he?”

“Just some low life thug… killed three of my men during a spice sting, 

Karked up thing is… my brothers were incinerated as soon as their bodies were collected. Meanwhile this shyte stain stays in our protective custody until we can confirm a next of kin. 

You know, to preserve his dignity.”

His monologue was low with anger, the contempt obvious on his features as he looked down at the dead man. His disquiet was obvious, as if this man had been plaguing his thoughts since before you entered the caf shop. He had gone tense and silent, a darkness in his gaze. You had to wonder,

“Why did you want to show me this?”

Fox blinked, and looked up at you, suddenly looking a little lost. 

“I don't know… I suppose I felt… I suppose I wanted you to see something from my world, to understand,”

He suddenly pushed the drawer shut again, slamming the door with a sharp snap that made you jump. 

“It seemed like you might…”

You wanted to say that you did, but you weren't entirely sure. Despite your own recent grief, how could you say you really knew what it meant to lose people so frequently, so… inconsequentially. 

Your feet seemed to move on their own as you approached the grim man with his back to you. You wrapped your arms around his waist, laying your head against his shoulder making his tight grip on the edge of the door slacken slightly in surprise. 

“It's all so fleeting, isn't it?”

You whispered against his coat, still damp from the rain. 

He turned in your grasp, wrapping his arms around your back as he came to face you, bringing his lips to yours. 

You could still taste the caf on him, the slight bite of smoke as he kissed you. There was desperation in the sudden action, looking for comfort in your embrace. His breath came sharp through his nose as his mouth moved on yours, sliding his tongue between your lips as the kiss became rough, frantic. 

You allowed him to move you, his hands guiding your hips to turn. A click and a swish as one of the other empty compartments was opened. He lifted you to sit on the cold, sterile metal of the drawer as he locked it in place. 

His narrow hips wedged between your knees as his hands came up to cup you cheeks, sharp teeth catching your lip, tugging at it before kissing you again and again. 

As he drew back, eyes searching for yours, you both jumped- startled by a sudden vibration humming from your purse. 

The com link inside had finally started ringing. 

You looked down at the bag, reaching for it instinctively, pausing when a heavy weight rested against your shoulder. Fox’s brow was against you, his words caressing your neck,

“Don't answer it,”

You didn't say anything, just breathed as the com buzzed. 

“Don't, just stay here…stay with me here,”

The rasp of his voice broke your heart. He sounded so tired…

You let the bag fall from your shoulder with a dull clink on the metal drawer before wrapping your arms about his neck. Reassured, his lips pressed to your pulse point, teeth dragging down the length of your neck to your shoulder and back again. The contact felt like electricity as you finally let yourself go, giving yourself to the fleeting moment. 

“Fox…”

He groaned softly against your skin before moving back to your lips, pressing against them hard. You felt his coat slip from his shoulders. He swung it behind you, spreading it over the cold metal surface. 

“Aren't you the gentleman…”

You breathed against his cheek, 

“I'm no gentleman, meshla,”

His tongue dove into your mouth and you moaned around it, heat flooding your core as his posture became domineering. 

Not breaking the kiss, he dipped to lift you, laying you back on his jacket while he leaned over you. It was easy for him to run his hands over you like this, the leather of his gloves smooth as they squeezed your breasts through your dress. 

His motions became sharp; His hand snapping behind your neck to lift you, the other pulling your coat off and tossing it aside. You cringed in the sudden cold of the room, a problem quickly remedied as he hopped onto the drawer in a fluid motion. Fox's trim bulk pressed down on you, hot through his clothing. 

With a needy growl his teeth were at your neck again nipping the soft flesh under your jaw, sucking hard enough to mark you and force your breath to hiss, your gasp sharp. The pain was exquisite, and you reached up to lace your fingers in his greying locks, pulling on them to keep his fangs on you. 

Fox's hands kept wandering, down your side, along your thigh. He pushed your knees to the side, making room for his hips to wedge between your legs. The denim of his pants was rough against the soft skin as he ground his pelvis against you. 

You gasped, pulling back slightly as the feel of him, hard through the fabric. 

“Wait!”

He froze. You only managed another deep breath before he pressed his mouth to yours again, softer than before, carefully,

“You wanted me to have my way with you the second you invited me to your flat… why doubt yourself now?”

You felt your sex clench at his words. He was right of course, you wanted him; The evidence began to pool in your panties as he nuzzled into your neck. 

“Give me this… I won't let you regret it,”

He punctuated his request by rubbing the hardened bulge in his jeans against your groin drawing an undignified moan from your lips. 

You nodded, a little incoherently, pressing your cheek to his. 

“Take me Fox,”

He smiled against your throat, sucking your skin between his teeth with a groan. Your wrists were gathered and held above your head; pinning you there with his left hand, the right slid back down your body. You gasped as his fingers brushed between your legs through your silky dress. 

He used two fingers to slowly rub you through the fabric. A languid pace, up and down, slow and firm making you whimper and squirm beneath him. As the tips brushed and circled your clit you jerked, crying out from the sudden pleasure and wincing as your head thunked against the hard surface. 

“That won't do…”

He growled, sitting up abruptly to tug his long sleeve off, tucking it behind your head. The shirt had barely hid his toned visage but you couldn't help but drink him in as he leaned over you bare. Your hands now free, you reached out for him, running your hands down his chest; feeling the taught muscle, the smooth dips of blaster scars, the jagged raised bumps from healed tears. Fox leaned into the touch, sighing softly as he continued his attentions on you, rocking back on his calves to look down at you spread beneath him. 

He tugged your dress up over your thighs, eyeing the red lace thong underneath with raised eyebrows. 

“You like it?”

His eyes flicked to yours. He didn't answer, just flashed you those fangs of his as he shifted down. He pushed your knees to the side as he leaned in, biting your folds through the fabric. You let out a squeak as his teeth grazed your clit, gasping as he did it again. He nuzzled you with his nose, breathing deeply the scent of your arousal. 

“You’re so kriffing wet, meshla…”

He was right, the cold air catching the damp skin of your thighs. He blew on the glistening flesh, making the skin bump and pulling a whine of need through you. 

Fox chuckled, grabbing the waistband of your panties. He twisted his fingers into the lace and with a sharp tug the delicate fabric tore, exposing you to him. You watched the ruined article disappear into his back pocket before he pinned you again. 

His lips locked to yours, hips grinding into you as you felt his hand undoing the belt buckle and buttons at his waist. You wanted him inside you already,

“Hurry, Fox…”

He bit your lip, a jangle out of sight signalling his jeans were undone. You hooked your fingers into the waistband, helping him slide them down. His cock slapped into you as it was freed, firm and ready. Reaching for it, you felt his length, stroking him as he repositioned himself. He lifted one of your knees guiding himself to your dripping pussy. The head slid over your folds, finding the natural nook for it between your legs. 

With your thigh wrapped around him, Fox braced himself on his elbow. He watched your face as he slowly began to penetrate you. Inch, by slow, tantalizing inch he filled you; watching your expression with intense concentration. He seemed pleased with the way your brow knit as you gasped, the flush that colored your cheeks. Your nerves were on fire, able to feel the ridge of him sliding into you, every vein on his shaft. You were ready to come undone for him right then and there, quivering as he finished sheathing himself inside of you. 

He stayed like that a moment, pinning you with his hips. Leaning in to kiss you, taking his time to feel your lips against his sure and firm, almost possessive. Fox's hand on your thigh pulled your leg around his side and you obliged, wrapping it around him tightly as he started to move. 

Short, shallow thrusts. Slow, grinding into you before withdrawing again. You needed more air, pulling your lips away to bury your head against his shoulder, panting at the rippling pleasure coursing through you. 

Suddenly his hips snapped, the sudden hard thrust ripping a small scream from your throat;The wave of ecstasy that hit your brain too sudden, and you arched back, thighs wrapping around him even tighter. He smiled down at you as he did it again, slamming into you hard. 

“Fox!”

He picked up the pace, brutal thrust one right after another. His belt buckle rattled against the side of the metal shelf, the harsh clatter contrasting the soft, wet pops of his skin meeting yours. You weren't able to make a sound through the onslaught, your body seizing under him as your synapses were set aflame. 

“Cum for me,”

He growled into your ear. 

That did it.

Your sex clenched around him at the command, body going taught and rigid as a strangled cry escaped you. You're sure you ruined his coat. The com in your discarded purse began to hum again. 

You stayed at that high, feeling floaty as your brain swam in the tingling sensation. The only things grounding you to reality being the soft leather of his gloves gripping your thigh, cupping your neck, the half groaned praises in your ear, and of course his hardened shaft hammering into you. 

“You feel so good beneath me, meshla…”

He was lost in his own pleasure, whispering almost incoherently into your neck as he fucked you. 

“I'm going to… soon, I want to… inside of you,”

Your nails dug into his back as you locked your legs around him,

“Do it… fill me,”

He groaned, something low and feral, his thrusts becoming less measured. His hips snapped erratically into you, overwhelming you over another edge. You bit into his shoulder as you came again, the glove on the back of your neck urging you on,

“Harder,”

He panted. 

You flexed your jaw, putting real weight into the bite even as your muscles twitched from climax. 

Fox's hips dropped, pinning you flat as he bottomed out in your cunt. The thob of his cock and the grunt in your ear betrayed the finality of his motions. 

He held you there, still and poised in the taught throws of climax. He twitched several times, filling you till it gushed around his sheathed cock to run down your already slick skin. 

His muscles relaxed, and carefully he settled his weight onto you, wrapping his arms under your back keeping himself firmly buried inside your pussy. He nuzzled your neck, satisfaction dripping from him,

“I needed that,”

…

“Me too,”

~~~

You laid back on his jacket as he inevitably dismounted, boots hitting the floor with a hard thump; Watching with longing as he pulled his jeans back up over his ass hiding it from the perfect vantage you had laying on the morgue self. 

Once his belt was done, he turned leaning in to give you pecking kisses as he gently took his shirt from under you. You drank in his musculature before he could hide it with the red fabric. You felt like you could fall for this handsome man, the odd melancholic look that was once again furrowing his brow. 

He felt the weight of your gaze on him, reaching to lift your hand to kiss your knuckles, your palm, teeth softly grazing your wrist. 

“What now, Commander?”

“You go home…”

He purred it playfully,

“...and I figure out a good excuse to see you again,”

“You need an excuse?”

“Oh yes, and I think I've already came up with a good one,”

He reached down to where your purse had fallen, withdrawing the com and cancelling the call that had started to come through again. You saw him type in a number, presumably sending a message to himself.

“Is that right? What little scheme are you brewing?”

“How about I pull the file for your parent's case, bring you a copy… you said they never shared their findings didn't you,”

Not in so many words, but there had been some bitterness in your exchange with him earlier he seemed to have latched onto.  

“You’d do that?”

“Not out of the goodness of my heart… I bring you the file,”

He put his pointer finger to your lips, trailing it down your neck, between your breasts down to the apex of your thighs.

“We get some caf… and we do this again,”

~~~

@hellhoundmaggie @feral-ferrule

Oh, @vodika-vibes not sure if this is your thing, not exactly bent over his desk but if you're still Fox thirsty 🫡

[wantonlywindswept]

another trope inversion of GAR/Guard interactions:

the GAR is entirely aware that Coruscant is a shit posting.

they're not blind; they can see all the anti-clone sentiment when they're on leave. even when they're deployed, it's not like they're cut off from all news - they know how many times bills for clone rights have gone to the Senate floor and been ruthlessly voted down. they can see how even their Jedi are restrained by the Senate dragging its feet and making bad choices and handling the war like it's a game of dejarik since it will never affect them personally.

very few politicians have the respect of the clones.

but the Guard still have to work with the spoiled, self-centered bastards, and the GAR knows that they're not being treated well. but what can they do? they have no rights, the Jedi are as trapped under the Senate's thumb as they are, and it's not like they can get regular citizens to do anything.

so they offer their support as much as they can. any Guard, any Corrie who needs help, all they have to do is find one of their brothers and it will be offered without any questions.

you'd think that crime rate would go up when battle-traumatized soldiers are given leave on a city-planet like Coruscant, but it actually goes down.

way down.

the thing criminals come to realize is that if you are being chased by one of the Guard, if ANY other clone catches sight of you, it is ON SIGHT. clones in casual clothes carrying food and drinks have dropped everything to immediately join a Guard's hunt, throwing themselves into the pursuit with glee and an energy that the usually-exhausted Guards often lack. (some of them howl. those, the criminal underground agrees, are the worst.) 

and with hundreds or thousands of clones wandering around during battalions' leave, it's possible to run into one of them anywhere. and they usually travel in packs.

best just to lay low for a while.

when it leaks that the Guard regularly run low on supplies, all sorts of things start to go missing on the venators. just a box or a crate here or there, ration packs or bacta patches or cold-weather gear. there are millions of clones and thousands of ships; it's not like every little thing can be tracked by the quartermasters. 

(rex realizes that, for whatever reason, his battalion is always prioritized for resupply, and rarely any questions are asked about their requisitions. rex takes immediate and shameless advantage of this. rex manages, somehow, to lose two entire bacta tanks, along with the bacta to fill them.)

and ofc the idea that started this whole ramble - when a shiny Corrie stumbles somewhere where some of the 501st are shooting the shit, causing everything to immediately come to a halt. the kid is clutching his helmet and one of his pauldrons to his chest; his hair is mussed up and there are tears on his cheeks and bruises on his face and unadulterated panic in his eyes. 

there's an angry call in the corridor.

the shiny flinches.

fives grabs him, hears him squeak, snaps out orders. echo yanks off his bucket and his upper armor; jesse lunges for a blanket. they hustle the kid into a chair, drape the blanket over his lower body, hastily swap his upper armor and helmet for echo's. fives shoves the armor somewhere, doesn't matter, it's out of sight with the telltale red, and they all barely have enough time to drop themselves back into the chairs arranged around the table and pick up their cards before some natborn stomps into the room.

anything we can do for you, sir? sorry, no, the Guard didn't stop in here. we saw him head back down toward the rotunda, though. yes, sir. have a nice day, sir.

they close and lock the door. fives goes back to the shiny. fives was instantly prepared to help a fellow clone in need.

fives was not prepared for tears.

the kid gets snot all over the inside of echo's helmet. they take him back to Guard HQ. fox is painfully, desperately relieved to see him. fox looks too-thin and too-tired but there is a fresh GAR-issued bacta patch covering a slash across the side of his cheek. he thanks them for saving the shiny, like that's something that ever needs gratitude, but is swept away before any of them can say that. 

fives doesn't think that misplaced bacta and pilfered rations are enough support for the Guard anymore.

thankfully, rex and the rest of the GAR agree.

[dangraccoon]

Mando'a (but Horny kov'taakyc)

Honestly, this is as much a post for me to reference back as it is for other writers to use 😅

ANYWAY

** denotes words that I created based on the rules listed in this mando'a dictionary (found here)

mando'a - english - pronunciation

Body Parts

bevagol - penis, dick, cock - bayv-AH-gohl

murce - lips (pl.) - MOOR-shay

palon - hole, opening; aisle, passageway - pah-LOHN

pel'gam - skin - pel-GAM

pel'troan - cheek - pail-TROHN

petir - center - PEH-teer

shebs - backside, rear, buttocks (also rear of building etc) - shebs

yai - belly, womb, abdomen - yay

yaiten - vagina (anatomical) - yay-TEN

Actions

aar'betenor - groan, moan - ahr-bey-tehn-OHR

baa'ruir - shiver, shudder - bah-roo-EER

baar'murcyur - making love, having sex - bahr-moor-SHOOR

baar'mureyca - sex (lit. "body kiss") - bahr-MOOR-aysh-ah

bat'gaanir - rub, grind - baht-gah-NEER

chayaikir - tease, barrack, make fun of (not as hostile as mock) - chai-ay-KEER

dihaarir - undress, take clothes off, unbutton, unzip - dee-hah-REER

↳ ke'dihaarir - undress (command) **

gayiylir - spread - guy-ee-LEER

gedetir - plead, beg - geh-deh-TEER

↳ ke'gedetir - beg (command) **

irudir - hug, embrace - ee-roo-DEER

iviin'hiibir - grasp, grab, seize - ee-VEEN-hee-BEER

murcyur - kiss - moor-SHOOR

pehir - spit - peh-HEER

tigaanur - touch - tee-gah-NOOR

videkir - swallow - vee-deh-KEER

↳ ke'videkir - swallow (command) **

Feelings

adenn - merciless - ah-DEN

aiki’yc - desperate - ai-KEESH

baar'laamyc - orgasm (lit. body high) - bahr-LAH-meesh **

↳ baar'lamycir - orgasming **

dola - throughout, pervading, soaked - DOH-lah

etyc - dirty, filthy, grimy - EHT-eesh

gebyc - narrow, tight - GEHB-eesh

jatisyc - delicious - jah-TEE-seesh

kandosii'la - stunning, amazing - kan-doh-SEE-la

murey'lin - lust - MOO-ray-leen

murey'yc - sexy, erotic - moor-ay-EESH

nepel - solid, hard - nay-PAIL

nukut'la - naked, nude, bare - noo-KOOT-lah

ori'aal - passion - OH-ree-AHL

piru'lini - thirst - pee-roo-LEE-nee

piryc - wet - PEER-eesh

tsikala - prepared, ready - zee-KAH-lah

yaihi'l - full - YAH-heel

yaiyai'yc - bloated, satisfied - yai-YAI-eesh

Other

ash'emuurir - please someone - ash-eh-moo-REER

copaanir - want - KOH-pan-EER

haav - bed - hahv

↳ haavir - bed (verb; to bed)

jat'ad - good boy/girl (name of affection or praise) - jah-TAHD

jatisir - delight, please, indulge - jah-tee-SEER

linibar - need - lee-nee-BAHR

pel'tigala - tender - pel-tee-GAH-lah

pelid - mattress, something soft to lie down or fall onto - pai-LEED

tennir - open - teh-NEER

↳ ke'tennir - open (command)

Kinky

brii'tay - knot - bree-TIE

↳ brii'tayir - knot (verb, i.e. A/B/O) **

nadal - heat - nah-DAHL

↳ or'nadal - in heat **

mircir - cage, lock up, capture - meer-SEER

tay'briik - cord, rope, string - tie-BREEK

tay'briir - tie up - tie-BREER

tay'gaan - strap, belt - tie-GAHN

yaihad - pregnancy - yai-HAHD

yaihad'la - pregnant - yai-HAHD-lah

yaihadir - conceive, impregnate - yai-hah-DEER

aar'ika - sting, little pain - AHR-eek-ah

aarar - hurt, cause pain - ah-RAHR

ekur - choke - eck-OOR

gratiir - punish - grah-TEER

kadalikir - scratch, leave a mark - kah-dah-lee-KEER

nynir - hit, strike - nee-NEER

oya'karir - hunt, chase - OY-yah-kah-REER

ky'goy - edge, verge, break, precipice - kee-GOHY

↳ ky'goyir - edge (verb) **

Drop a note or ask if there's anything you think I should add!

[starrylothcat]

Hey hey! Love your writing!

I wanted to ask for some nsfw headcannons for Wolffe, Cody, and Rex. Where their F!Jedi reader keeps force projecting different sex scenes of them together during a briefing; with the boys trying to keep it together during the briefing and their reactions/what they say to her after.

I also just wanted to say, that you are one my favorite TCW/TBB writers on Tumblr!

Distractions - NSFW Headcanons with Cody, Wolffe, and Rex

Summary: You decide to spice up a pre-mission briefing meeting by projecting naughty visions to your clone, knowing you’ll pay for it later.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+. Absolute filth. Smut. No real plot. Dom vibes from Wolffe and Cody, slightly rough handling but everything consensual. Fingering, oral, PiV sex. Reader a Jedi, not described in detail.

Pairings: Cody x Fem!JediReader, Wolffe x Fem!JediReader, Rex x Fem!JediReader

WC: Around 2,000 total (bullet points)

A/N: Let me tell you, the squeal I squealed when I got this ask! Thank you for this filthy request, anon! And thank you for your even kinder comment, I was having some self-doubt in my writing lately and I’m glad that you are enjoying my silly little stories, it means a lot to me and I love writing for y’all!

This is pure smutty goodness below the cut, I hope it’s what you envisioned. I had fun writing this for sure! I kinda got carried away with Rex, oops. Enjoy! 💛

✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.*

💛 Cody 💛

He is a tough man to crack.

He’s always the Marshal Commander, taking his duties seriously on and off the battlefield.

You started innocently, visions of you kissing up and down his torso, slowly taking off his armor and blacks, fondling his cock, whispering how good of a girl you’ve been and that you’re ready to please your Commander in any way.

Cody didn’t even look at you, though you saw his hand twitch slightly at his side.

You smiled to yourself, projecting a more enticing scene into his mind.

This time, you were sucking his cock, his gloved hand wrapped in your hair, mumbling how amazing your lips felt around him, how much he was going to reward you later for being so good to him.

Still, nothing. Though his jaw seemed tense as he listened to Obi-Wan go over battle plans.

You knew you were playing a dangerous game, an exceedingly dangerous game, one that you will be thouroughly punished for later.

The thought shot a jolt of pleasure straight to your core, upping the ante again, needing him to crack.

The next image was of you, laying on his bunk, pleasuring yourself, two fingers deep inside your sopping pussy, your other hand pinching and tweaking your nipples writhing and moaning in pleasure, getting off completely fine without his assistance.

Since my Commander can’t be bothered to help me, I have to take matters into my own hands…

You held that teasing, lewd image in his mind, and you could almost feel the blade of his stare pierce straight through you as he finally made eye contact across the room.

It was a simple gesture that said so much, and you knew you had him.

After the meeting, you went straight to your personal quarters, knowing he wouldn’t be too far behind.

As your door hissed closed behind you, it was open again, and Cody had you pinned to a nearby wall so fast you barely had time to register what was happening.

Cody was deadly silent as he crushed his lips to yours in a bruising kiss, teeth and tongue clashing as his armored body pressed into your robed one.

You smirked against his lips as he pulled away for air, your lungs burning. “Cody-“

Cody growled as he flipped you around, your face pressed up agains the wall, tugging down your robes, revealing your ass to him and your glistening pussy.

He gave your ass a solid smack, his lips against your ear, heavy and commanding.

“You’re not getting away with this.”

You sighed in both pain and pleasure, hearing the clunk of his codpiece hitting the floor, his fingers gripping your ass hard as he rubbed his rigid cock at your entrance.

“Is this what you wanted?” He husked, “to be filled by your Commander? To beg for this cock? Oh, mesh’la, you’ll be begging.”

You let out a whine as he teased your dripping entrance with his cockhead, already thinking you maybe took it a little too far with your visions, knowing he was a man true to his word.

It was too late now.

“Cody, please, I need-“

Smack! Another slap to your ass, his other hand wandering between your folds.

“Only good, obedient girls get this cock. After that stunt in the comm room, you have a lot to make up for.“

He swiped a finger over your clit, causing you to cry out, your body twitching, unable to move much between the wall and his solid form behind you.

He roughly rubbed your clit, pushing two fingers into your entrance, immediately finding the spongy spot that made you see stars.

“You’re soaking, mesh’la, so needy for me.”

You could feel your release coming quickly, choking out his name as his other hand groped at your breast.

Cody knew you were close, feeling you tighten around him, your high pitched moans giving you away.

Cody removed his fingers right as you were about to reach your peak.

You whimpered, trying to lean back against him, desperate for your release, for anything.

Cody spun you around again, pressing his gloved fingers soaked with your juice to your lips.

“If you’re good, I’ll let you cum. You haven’t proved yourself to me, though. Now be a good girl, and clean me up.”

You licked his gloved fingers clean, tasting yourself and giving him a little show of what you could do with your tongue, if you let him.

Cody’s eyes darkened, slowly pulling his fingers out of your mouth, a line of spit connecting your lips to his fingers.

“On your knees, mesh’la. Like I said, you have a lot to make up for.”

🖤 Wolffe 🖤

The image you projected was absolutely filthy.

Your hands were pinned behind your back by his large hand, the other pressing between your shoulder blades keeping you down on the bed as he pounded into you from behind.

You were shamelessly moaning his name like a dirty Holofilm star, crying out for him to go harder, faster.

You stood at attention, casually glancing at him, noticing a bead of sweat forming at Wolffe’s temple.

You could sense he was trying his best not to leap over the holomap and ravage you in front of everyone.

You decided he had enough of the first fantasy, briefly closed your eyes, projecting another scene into his mind.

You were on your knees in front of him, your mouth open as he shoots ropes of cum all over your face, greedily lapping it up, kissing up and down his still-hard cock, begging for more.

Wolffe’s eyes flashed at you, his cybernetic eye and scar making him look more dangerous than usual, his eyes narrowing.

Got him.

You were enjoying watching him keep it together, a vein bulging at his forehead, his neck tense as he stood at attention, listening to Master Koon’s hologram.

You knew you were in for it after the meeting.

That was the entire point.

Wolffe was practically kicking down the door to your personal quarters after the meeting, pinning you to your bed, his mouth ravaging yours, moving down to suck and bite at your neck, hard.

He had your wrists held above your head with one hand, his grip like iron.

There was no escape.

“What was that?” He growled as he continued the assault on your neck, his hand tightening even more around your wrists that were wiggling to get free.

You whined as his hand that was digging into your waist moved under your robes, up toward your breasts.

“Answer me, mesh’la. Or you won’t get what you so obviously want.”

His gloved touch left a trail of fire on your skin, sending goosebumps across your body and a jolt of arousal straight to your pussy, your panties wet at the anticipation.

“You looked bored during the meeting.” You smirked at up at him, breathy pants leaving you as he touched you. “Thought you could use some entertainment.”

Wolffe’s gaze darkened at your teasing tone, the ghost of a smirk on his lips.

Without warning, he ripped open the front of your robes, yanking down your breast band.

You yelped as he attacked your breasts with this lips and teeth, leaving more marks for him to gently kiss over later when he was through with you.

“Do you want my cum, mesh’la? Is that what you want?” Wolffe grunted against your flushed skin as he switched to your other breast.

You gasped a yes, his teeth expertly nipping and tugging at your sensitive bud.

You writhed, your wrists still restrained above your head by his strong hand.

“I’ll fill your mouth to the brim, and you’ll swallow every drop, isn’t that right you filthy girl?”

You nodded, almost delirious just at his mouth on your nipples. He hadn’t even really started touching you yet.

“And then I’ll fill that pretty pussy of yours, but only if you behave. Will you behave for me?”

“Y-yes!” Your voice cracked, needing him to fuck you until you couldn’t remember your name. 

“Yes…?” He stopped, his predatory gaze locking on you.

“Yes…Commander.”

“Good girl.”

Wolffe continued ravaging your breasts, your mewls filling the room.

“Please, I want your cock inside me, I want you to cum so deep inside me, Wolf-Commander. I’ll be good, I promise…”

Wolffe released your wrists, your hands finally free.

“You haven’t been good though, you knew that the second you invaded my mind with those visions.”

Wolffe sat up, and began removing his armor. You forgot it was even still on.

“I’ll make sure you’re properly punished for such distractions, and then I’ll decide when you’re ready for my cock.”

You shivered at his promise as he climbed over you, just in his blacks, the outline of his rigid cock straining against the fabric.

“I dunno, Commander. You seem to be all bark and no bite.” You teased, knowing you were getting yourself into even more trouble.

A dark chuckle reverberated in his chest, ripping your pants and panties down your legs, tossing them to the side.

Wolffe grasped your thighs, biting down into the soft flesh of your inner leg, earning a loud yelp from you as his tongue eased the first of many marks he will leave on your body.

“Be careful what you wish for, mesh’la.”

💙 Rex 💙

You had him sweating and fidgeting as Rex tried to keep a straight face in the briefing room.

Rex was attempting to listen to the mission report, but your vision in his mind was proving to be quite the distraction.

You were on his face, his hands grasping your thighs as he feasted on your pussy from below.

“Rex, oh kriff, more, please, I need your big cock, I want you to ruin me.”

Rex gave you a desperate look from across the room, slightly shaking his head.

You ignored his pleading glance, changing the vision.

Now, you were splayed out on his desk in his private Captain’s quarters, his cock driving deeper and deeper into you, your back arching as you rubbed your clit, cumming over and over again around him.

His desk was dripping with your juices, your breasts bouncing almost comically as you cried out his name, hamming up the vision to see Rex squirm.

Rex suddenly coughed, everyone in the room looking at him momentarily.

You rocked on your heels, hands behind your back, pretending to listen as the pre-mission brief continued, completely innocent.

Finally, the meeting ended.

You exited the room, Rex quickly walking past you.

“My office. Now.” He hissed quietly, before being called over by Anakin to discuss further plans.

When Rex opened the door to his office, you were sitting at his desk, waiting for him.

“You have a lot of explaining to do, General.” Rex strode up to you, placing his hands on his desk, leaning over toward you.

You loved it when he used his serious Captain voice on you.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Captain.”

“You know.” His voice dropped an octave, husky and gruff, just how you liked it.

“You’ll have to elaborate. I can’t read minds.”

Rex stood up straight, his expression unreadable. You continued to sit in his chair as he walked around the desk and over to you.

Rex leaned down again, placing his hands on the armrests of the chair, caging you in.

For a moment, you thought he was actually upset with you. You felt guilty, maybe you did take it too far in the meeting.

You opened your mouth to apologize, but Rex spoke first.

“I think you can, mesh’la. How else would you know those visions are what I think about doing to you every waking moment?”

His lips were hovering centimeters from yours, a quiet gasp leaving your lips, your body quivering at his statement.

Oh, he liked it.

His breath fanned over your face, feeling your panties dampen, his usual soft eyes glazed over with lust.

You leaned forward to close the small distance, wanting to taste him, but he pulled away, avoiding your kiss.

“Mmm, mesh’la. You’re not going to get what you want so easily.” Rex purred in your ear, his gloved hand snaking up your neck, tilting your head to the side.

He placed a hot kiss right below your ear, lazily licking your neck.

“Rex…” you sighed, grasping at his shoulder pads, his teeth grazing your skin, his lips pressing to the side of your jaw.

“You want something from me?” He removed himself from you, kneeling between your legs.

“I’m not sure if you deserve it. I could write you up for what you did back there.”

Rex hooked his fingers under your pants, pulling them down your legs. You lifted your ass, helping him remove your lower clothes.

“Yeah? What would the report say?” You shuddered as Rex began lavishing your bare thighs, teeth and tongue sucking and nibbling as he slowly made his way up to your aching apex.

You could feel Rex smirk against your skin.

“My General coercing me into questionable situations. Inappropriate use of Jedi abilities.”

Rex stopped right at your core, aching and throbbing for him. You could feel his breath on your pussy, desperate now for any friction.

You let out a frustrated whine as Rex kissed your inner thigh, ignoring where you needed him most.

“Rex…”

“Patience, mesh’la. You need a lesson in discipline, it seems.”

Rex brushed his nose against your clit, your hips instinctually bucking up toward him, your hands grasping at his buzzed hair.

You groaned impatiently as he gently kissed your labia, touching you everywhere but your clit.

“You’re not going to get what you want so easily.” He rumbled into your core, a finger now teasing your entrance.

You panted, knowing you asked for this, that you deserved this, but you could still protest to his teasing.

“Captain, please…” You begged, shifting your hips, hoping he would press his finger knuckle deep inside you.

Rex continued to just tease your entrance with his finger tip, slowly circling, not quite pressing all the way inside.

“Kriff, you’re so wet. Do you want me to fuck you on my desk? Do you want to cum over and over again on my cock?”

You nodded, heavy pants the only sound able to leave your lips as he finally pressed his finger inside.

“Use your words, is that what you want?”

Rex’s lips were brushing over your clit, the teasing almost too much.

“Y-yes! Please, Rex, I need you inside me!” Your words came out as a garbled cry as he suddenly sucked on your clit, adding a second finger to your pussy, stretching you so deliciously you thought you might cry, pleasure shooting up your spine.

And his cock wasn’t even inside you yet.

“You’ll get my cock, mesh’la, don’t worry. But first, I want you to cum just like this.” Rex added a third finger, his tongue and lips circling your clit, your vision white from the pleasure as you squirmed and writhed in his chair, totally at his mercy, your orgasm building quickly.

You came apart on his fingers, shaking and sobbing his name, pleasure coursing through you as Rex’s fingers and mouth worked you through your first orgasm.

“You’re so beautiful when you cum.” Rex’s pupils were blown with desire, licking his lips as he cleaned you up, his baritone voice was laden with desire, his control now gone.

You barely had time to come down from you high as Rex easily lifted you onto his desk, removing his codpiece in a flash, pulling down his blacks far enough for his flushed, dripping cock to spring free.

“And you’re going to cum again, and again, and again. Are you ready, mesh’la? This is what you asked for.”

Your answer was a cry of his name, his hands gripping your hips as he slammed into you, starting a devastating pace, fucking you exactly like you showed him in your vision.

Your last coherent thought before being so thoroughly fucked and blissed out by your Captain was that you should definitely tease him like this more often.

Tag list: @littlemissmanga @maybethatfanfictionwriter @secondaryrealm @sinfulsalutations @anxiouspineapple99 @secretthegriffin @idontgetanysleep @starqueensthings @dystopicjumpsuit @wings-and-beskar @dreamie411 @aconstructofamind @coraex @multi-fan-dom-madness @freesia-writes @kashasenpai @sunshinesdaydream @din-miller @clonemedickix @wizardofrozz @pb-jellybeans @wanderer-six @blueink-bluesoul @the-cantina @king-chaos-world @wolffegirlsunite @dukeoftheblackstar @523rdrebel @sleepingsun501 @sunshinesdaydream

[comicsandconstellations]

I’m currently 40k words into my Domino Squad fic, and sometimes before writing I do some doodles of the boys to get into the right head space. Here’s a quick idea I coloured yesterday of them.

I’m sorry I haven’t made any more comics recently, like I said in my last post, I’m going through a really bad art slump where I hate everything I draw. Doing these little doodles is helping get some motivation to draw back but not necessarily any confidence. Bear with me.

In the mean time, some more Dominoes.

[leenathegreengirl]

Meet Sylvie 🥰💙💕

(Thank you to my dear friend & creative partner @legacygirlingreen for writing the bio for me and making the beautiful design layout!)

💚Tag List💚

@legacygirlingreen @thora-sniper @thecoffeelorian @neyswxrld @somewhere-on-kamino @clonethirstingisreal @royallykt @morerandombullshit @burningfieldof-clover @tbnrpotato @keantha @returnofthepineapple @antisocial-mariposa @techs-stitches @resistantecho @kimiheartblade @dezgate @sunshinesdaydream @rex-targaryen @freesia-writes @justanotherdikutsimp @aknightreaderr

[ireadwithmyears]

address the letters: “to the holes in my butterfly wings”

pairing: Kix and GN padawan reader (platonic)

Word count, guys it’s basically 10 K 💀bc apparently I am in capable of writing anything short.

tags/warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, mentions of blood and injury, medical procedures

summary:

In which, the CMO of Torrent Company discovers that you, a Padawan under his care have been hiding injuries and skipping medical checks, and now must take care of you as you suffer the consequences of your actions.

Also known as

Why you should never hide an injury from Kix. he will find out, and he will drag you off to the medbay so that he can take care of whatever mess you’ve made of yourself, scolding you all the wile.

“Look what I found on my bunk.”

You’re interrupted from eating your sandwich in the Cantina when Fives plops down beside you at the table, setting down a tray of food and waving a pink slip of paper in your face.

You’re about to tell him that “Can’t you see that you’re eating and get this paper out of my face,” when your eyes catch on three words written in bold text across the top of the page.

Mandatory vaccination updates. 

The sandwich, that up until this point has been the absolute centre of your attention, listen, you’re fighting a war and you have to appreciate any opportunity that you get to eat food that isn’t bland ration bars, drops out of your suddenly limp hand as you snatch up the paper, now very interested in the contents.

“When did you get this?” you ask slowly, you’re voice distracted, beginning to chew on your lower lip, already feeling the nervous coil in your stomach.

“When I came back to my bunk after the debriefing we had this afternoon. Apparently everyone got one. I bet you 10 credits that your master is going to pretend that he didn’t see it, and try and avoid it until Kix has to tear apart the ship looking for him and drag him to the medbay.” Fives chuckles.

Master Skywalker’s reputation for trying to avoid the medbay at all costs is widely known throughout Torrent Company..

“Kix is going to have a field day. I’ll give it to general Skywalker, he has some creative hiding places,” he continues, eyes lighting up at the memory of Anakin, half hazardously crammed into a supply closet, folded in an impressive, yet uncomfortable looking position as he forced his unwitting tall limbs to fit in the cramped space.

Unfortunately for Kix, your masters habit of avoiding the medbay whenever possible has rubbed off on you, though, you don’t think it’s for the same reason. Your avoidance stems from a place of fear, and, okay, a stubborn insistence that you can take care of yourself, which yes, definitely like master, like apprentice.

But that also stems from a fear. You’re determined to prove yourself, especially being a young Padawan working with those who are much more experienced than you. You don’t want to risk being taken off the field because of some stupid injury, and letting those who rely on you down, especially your master, who’s always bouncing back and getting up and ready to take on whatever is next regardless of what kind of peril he’s just come out of. You want, you need, to prove that just because you’re a Padawan, you’re not a liability, but an asset. You can be strong and resilient like master Skywalker.

So, you avoid. You dodge and you ignore and you pretend not to notice when the routine medical check dates come and go without your attendance. You know it’s only a matter of time before Kix gets on your ass about it. You’re surprised that you’ve kept it up this long. But, this only bolsters your confidence in being able to avoid another successfully.

“I’ll be right back,” you say, trying to sound nonchalant, setting the paper back down on the table before you run off into the crowd.

*

Sure enough, there is an identical slip of paper that’s been placed on your bunk. But conveniently, Jedi master Aayla Secura is going on a diplomatic mission to amid rim planet in a last ditch effort to try and convince them not to secede from the republic during the date that’s listed on the page when you’re scheduled for your vaccinations.

Earlier this morning, master Skywalker had asked if you had wanted to join this mission, saying that it would give you a break from being on the frontlines, and it would be easy enough to arrange, as master Secura would rendezvous with the 501st before she departed.

This morning, you had turned him down, listing several reasons as to why you needed to stay with the 501st. Your troops needed you, diplomatic missions were boring anyways, and you didn’t think that you would be of much help to the experienced and capable master Secura, who was a formidable diplomat in her own right. You didn’t think you would be able to add anything of particular value to the conversation, at least nothing that master Secura wouldn’t be able to say much more eloquently and better.

Now though, the only thing that’s running through your mind is the fear of needles and the dread of going into the medbay and that’s enough to make you reconsider everything you had said.

When you tell master Skywalker that you’ve changed your mind, and would actually like to accompany Aayla on her mission, he’s slightly confused considering you had been so adamant that you were needed here only just a few hours ago. 

But, he knows that as a Jedi, you need diplomatic experience. Experience that, before the war, would be very easy for Padawan’s to come by. He knows that you don’t have nearly as much as you should.

These are unprecedented times, though, and Padawan’s being trained during an active war is not ideal. He wants for you to be well-rounded. He has hope that your future won’t always involve war at the centre of it, and any opportunity that you get to learn how to be a keeper of peace should always be encouraged, especially during these times.

 So he gives in pretty easily, and when master Secura arrives, you happily join her. When the ramp of the ship seals behind you and you’re sitting with her in the cockpit, the warm relief that flows through your bones is palpable. 

“Success,” you think to yourself triumphantly.

*

Your triumph, however glorious it might have felt in the moment, is short-lived.

In spite of the fact that some old injuries, that you honestly thought you had done a pretty good job at taking care of yourself, were starting to aggravate you again, the unexpected joy and relief that weaved itself through the force, openly shared between you and master Secura, surrounded you like a warm blanket, protecting you from feeling the things that hurt you.

The planet you had just visited had agreed to stay with the republic, after a tense three days of debate between its political factions. The victory Was a surprise, considering how vehemently the opposition pushed to secede, but it was not unwelcome.

Aayla’s T-6 shuttle docks in the hanger bay of the much larger 501st transport. As you wait for the doors to open and the ramp to fold down before you, you’re still riding on that high, feeling, for the first time in a long time, the thrill of a success. One that you are unable to feel on the frontlines, because even when your battles result in a victory, you are surrounded by so much death and violence that in the end, you don’t really feel like celebrating. 

You’ll never admit it to your master, but privately, you think to yourself that maybe diplomatic missions aren’t as boring as you thought they were. You were able to help resolve a conflict, peacefully, without even having to brush your fingers against the hilt of your lightsaber, which, nowadays, is becoming more and more of a rare occurrence. But it’s what Jedi do, or at least, what they’re supposed to do, so you have to embrace the gratitude of the experience you just had, and try and take it with you going forward.

Your thoughts are preoccupied with these ideas swirling around your head, so you don’t see him until you’re stepping out onto the ramp of the T-6, descending into the hectic and busy as usual crowds of the hanger bay.

When you do, though, you stop dead, and your heart begins to race. 

Shit.

Directly in front of you, at the bottom of the ramp, stands Kix.

One look at his expression, and your stomach flips.

His lips are set in a thin, unreadable line, his brow creased as he observes you with pinpoint focus. Stern, brown eyes observe your every movement. There’s no question that the second you step off the ramp, he’s going to pounce on you like a cat seizing a mouse. 

He stands at attention, body forced into an unbending straight line, such positions you mostly see on the shiny’s, new troopers who are freshly trained during their first days out on the field. His hands are placed on his hips, the position that he assumes before he’s about to give someone, it’s usually your master who you’ve seen it directed at, the lecture of their life.

“Keep moving,” your brain supplies. “Act nonchalant, and maybe, just maybe, you’ll be fine.”

You feel your feet hit solid ground, and your speed picks up, all along, your brain is screaming at you to move. It’s weird how now that he’s standing in front of you, every injury you’ve accumulated over the past weeks is beginning to hit you, all comfort and protection that the force has been giving you to keep you going rapidly vanishing with each step you take.

The uncomfortable angle that your shoulder is sitting at, the pulling of stitches in your leg as you increase your speed. It throbs and aches with sudden abandon. But your fists clench, and you do your best not to falter under Kix’s unwavering scrutiny, just knowing that he’s looking for any flicker of weakness, any sign of pain that registers on your face.

“Just keep going, and maybe, you’ll be able to slip past...”

He steps in front of you, reaching an arm out to easily intercept your path. He says your name, in a tone that breaches absolutely no room for trying to ignore it.

You jump, startled in spite of yourself. He’s effectively got you cornered, and seeing that there’s no way out of this, Your nerves begin to skyrocket, raising like the sound of alarm bells in your head. You look up, eyes meeting his unwaveringly stern expression, And suddenly, you wish that the floor would open up and swallow you whole.

He looks down at you, and he must see something in your disposition that belies your true feelings, because though his face remains set, his eyes somewhat soften, and when he next speaks, his voice is quiet but firm.

“Come with me, please. I need to see you in the medbay.” Though he’s phrased it as a request, you know that it is an order, and one that you must follow.

As a medic for the GAR, and this is something that you’ve heard him say to many a complaining troopers being escorted to the medbay when they don’t want to go, it is well within his rights to exercise such authority and make these orders. Because when it comes to the health and safety of every 501st personnel, whether you’re a Jedi general, commander, or Padawan, Kix immediately outranks you.

You look down at the floor, suddenly finding the marks that are speckled across it very interesting, and mumble a defeated and quiet “Yes sir.” 

When he turns, and you hesitate to follow, he lets out a gentle sigh, moving to place a hand on the small of your back. His voice is low, but reassuring as he ushers you forward.

“Come on, kid, you’re okay,” he breathes, and in spite of the fact that you’re still thinking that jumping out of an airlock would be better than this, your feet, still unwilling, but the slightest bit reassured, begin to move.

*

Coric giving you a subtle pitying glance as he’s reading over a patient’s chart when Kix escorts you into the medbay makes you want to vomit.

Between the two medics,  Kix has the reputation of being a hardass because he’s the CMO. Make no mistake, you do not want to get on either of their bad sides. But, given the choice between the two right now, you think you’re more equipped to handle Coric, who can usually be counted on to soften the blow a bit, with enough pleading glances and apologies.

Your eyes flit to the door that you’ve just passed through, because stupidly, your brain is still trying to make the calculations that if you can just duck out of Kix’s grasp for two seconds, you’d be able to make a run for it.

Unbeknownst to you, however, both medics have been carefully observing your every movement since you’ve entered. Coric, remaining completely calm and at ease, rises to his feet, moving swiftly to stand in the doorway in several long strides. He casually leans against the frame, arms folded.

“Don’t even think about it, baby Jedi. Your master has attempted the same thing you are considering, and he has always failed,” he says, keeping his voice light and non-threatening, making it clear that you need to give up on your fantasy of bolting out of here, but also not trying to scare you off..

You’re just beginning to wonder how the kriff they were able to read you so easily, with one covert glance determining that you were about to bolt when Kix removes his hand from the small of your back, instead, fingers coming to gently grip your shoulder.

The change in his hold is obvious. He is fully prepared for if you try to run. He gives your shoulder a squeeze, in what you interpret as a warning not to. 

Unfortunately, he’s just touched on an injury, you’re not entirely sure what you did, but you messed up your shoulder the last time you were on the field, and even the slight pressure elicits a sharp intake of breath that you’re unable to stop from escaping your lips, and that immediately has the attention of both medics laser focussed on you.

Kix’s anticipation evaporates and quickly melts into concern. Carefully, so carefully, he turns you to face him, keen eyes sharp as they analyze your face.

“Hey,” he calls softly, waiting for you to look at him. “Tell me where it hurts,” he says, so gently that it makes your eyes burn with shame. You look down at your feet.

“That’s uh... that’s, a loaded question,” you admit sheepishly, trying to keep your tone light and joking, in spite of the fact that now that you’re thinking about it, the list of injuries you’ve sustained without reporting to the medbay is a lengthy one, and might make Kix have a stroke.

Kix lets out a controlled, slow breath, eyes momentarily finding the ceiling as he silently begs the stars to give him strength. 

“Kaysh Mirsh solus,” he mutters to himself.

You’ve heard Kix toss that phrase around the medbay on multiple occasions, and though you’re uncertain of what it actually means, he usually brings it out when one of his brothers has done something that he would consider incredibly stupid, which is often.

Coric makes a noise of agreement. “It appears that our stupidly self-sacrificing general has passed on his stupid self sacrificing behaviour onto his apprentice,” he groans. “Will we ever know a day of peace?” 

Kix looks back down at you, his expression calm and restrained. “Come on, then, let’s see what we’re dealing with here,” moving his hand to your uninjured shoulder, he steers you both further into the medbay.

*

Your eyes don’t leave the ground, but you can hear the sound of a privacy curtain being pulled shut around the cubicle that Kix has brought you to. 

When an eerily familiar pink slip of paper is being held up in front of your downcast eyes, you cringe, Arms wrapping around yourself in defence

You can’t even pretend that you haven’t seen it before, because the words mandatory vaccination updates have been circling around your brain the whole time you were out on your last mission.

“Do you know why the GAR enforces these?” Kix begins, and his voice is too measured and calm. 

You lift a brow, questioning. Does he seriously expect you to answer this? Isn’t the answer obvious? 

“Uh... so that we don’t get sick?” You answer, uncertain as to what he’s getting at.

He nods, his face displaying a slight flicker of approval. “Yes, that is one reason as to why, and it’s an acceptable one,” he acknowledges. His frown deepens as he continues. “However, one must look at the much larger picture, at every personnel aboard this ship. The most important reason why mandatory vaccinations are enforced is so that we can avoid many people getting sick and spreading illness to the rest of the crew, so that we may remain fully functional and operational, continuing to serve and protect the people of the republic.”

You squirm beneath the scrutiny of his gaze. You’re starting to see where he’s going with this, and it’s incredibly discomforting.

“I would’ve thought, that as a Jedi, you would be able to more easily see this bigger picture than most others,” he observes mildly. “After all, I know, and I’m sure everyone who spends a considerable amount of time with you can see that there is so much compassion and care for others within your very nature.”

His voice is so genuine, laced with such real kindness in his tone that it makes your eyes sting. Your heart constricts, because he’s just pointed out something that you hadn’t even considered in your selfish haste to avoid this.

By avoiding your vaccinations, you have put every member of the 501st who works with you in danger.

Your arms wrap  tighter around yourself, and you can’t bring yourself to look anywhere but at the pristine white floor beneath your feet.

Kix senses that he’s hit a mark, and his voice gentles considerably. “I also understand that you are young, and still learning to see the bigger picture and how your actions can affect those around you.”

“I, I didn’t, I was scared and I just I didn’t think about...” your voice trembles as you try to answer, tumbling out in a rush of words that race as quickly as your heart. 

“I understand, and it is perfectly reasonable for you to feel that way,” he keeps his voice level and measured. “However,” he continues, and you know what he’s about to say even before he says it. “We still have to face the things that scare us. If you had simply told me how you were feeling, we would have figured out a way to navigate it.” His face is reassuring when you dare to glance up from the floor that you’ve been resolutely staring at for this whole conversation.

“We still will figure out the best way to proceed. However, these vaccination updates are very low on my priority list of concerns when it comes to you, compared to this,” and he holds up a datapad, displaying medical records with your name typed neatly across the top.

The last several appointment entries are highlighted in red, indicating that you did not attend any of them. 

“Do I need to remind you that these appointments are not optional. Any member of Torrent Company who goes out on the field must report to the medbay upon return for examination, as well as attend our regular medical checks to ensure that you are fit for active duty.” It’s clear from the tone of his voice that this is a lecture that he is very practised in delivering.

You lift your head, finally looking directly at him. He’s already made you admit a fear that you desperately wanted to keep to yourself. You try and summon what remains of your dignity. 

“What do you want me to say, Kix?” There’s a hint of defiance in your voice. 

“Do you want me to admit that I avoided these because I had injuries that I didn’t want you to know about? Because yes, the truth is that I did.” Your eyes level with his as you try to make him understand. 

“I was scared of the medical procedures, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?” You snap, not particularly annoyed with him, but more annoyed at the fact that your answers sound so stupid out loud. 

“But I was more scared of the fact that you were probably going to take me off the field, and I couldn’t, I couldn’t let that happen. My master was relying on me. Everyone was relying on me, and I couldn’t let them down.” You try to shrug off his concern with a dismissive wave of your hand. “Besides, I’ve been doing fine,” you say evasively.

Kix does not rise to the bate of your seeming anger. He’s much too practised and controlled to let it affect him. He also has the uncanny ability to look at someone, and see everything, read through their feelings, whether they’ve been acknowledged or not, and understand them. So, even though you’re trying to push him away, with what at first glance appears to be frustration, underneath it all, he can tell that it’s just as plainly  fear.

He meets your storm filled eyes unflinchingly, levelling you with a look that is equal parts stern and unwavering, and equal parts concerned and filled with compassion. It makes your insides twist with guilt, and you want to look away, but you can’t bring yourself to as he speaks, his voice calm but steely.

“Are you fine?” he asks, an eyebrow raising as he tilts his head to look at you, his gaze clinical, assessing, even as you just stand there in front of him.

. “I already know that there’s something wrong with your shoulder. But aside from that, I’ve been observing you since you got off your transport. The way you move is slow and careful, not at all like the usual way you dash around the ship. Even now, you’re hesitating to put much weight on your right leg.” He ticks off the things he’s noticed on his fingers like a list.

“Apart from the fact that skipping these mandatory appointments have consequences. If you had kept this up, I would’ve had to bring this to our superiors, that includes the Jedi council,” he gives you a pointed look, even the mention of the high Council makes you shiver. in your experience, whenever you and your master have been summoned to speak with the council, it’s always to be reprimanded, and never good.

. “You could have been Court-martialed,” he says, knowing that his words will hit the severity of the situation home.  

You falter, stepping back as you feel your eyes go wide. “Court-martialed?” you breathe, feeling the blood draining from your face. 

He gently takes your arm, guiding you to sit on a bed as he continues, voice softening. “It is very clear that you are hiding injuries, and though I can understand why, in premise, You did this, the reality is that this will begin to affect your performance in battle. It will not just affect you. You will put yourself, as well as the entirety of the people you are leading, in danger. People could get hurt.  You could get hurt. Because you would be putting not just yourself, but others, in unnecessary danger, your ability to be in the position of a commander could be called into serious  question by your superiors, and for good reason” 

As much as he keeps his voice low and calm, you can sense that he’s disappointed in the way that you’ve handled yourself. Your teeth sink into the inside of your cheek, forcing the tears that prick at the back of your eyes to not fall. You hate disappointing people, and the fact that you’ve managed to disappoint Kix, one of the kindest people you know, makes you want to curl up into a ball and never show your face in public again.

“And that, the safety of yourself, and everyone aboard this ship, is my priority. It is much more important to me than having to report to any superior. The fact that you hold your safety, and by extension, the safety of  those around you, with such blatant disregard, is what concerns me the most, and that is what I need you to understand.” 

There’s a certain gravity in his voice that you’ve never heard before, but it slams into your chest and hits you like a ton of bricks. The implications of what you’ve been doing, of what could have happened to those around you, to his brothers, because of your inability to face your fears begin to swirl around your head with a rapidity that makes your heart race. 

These thoughts come unbidden, and too fast for you to process. The tears, that you’ve been so desperately trying to push back, spring free and begin to fall down your cheeks, unprompted, slowly, and silently. You don’t have time to stop them from coming.

Kix knows that he’s been very direct, and very blunt with you, deciding that this would be the only way to get through to you. He hates having to do it, though. Kix considers himself to be a fairly good judge of character, and he knows that you have such a caring, gentle heart and strong presence wherever you go. So, watching you break in front of him like this pains him.

Your breath hitches in an unsteady gasp as you look up at him, tears blurring your vision. 

“I’m sorry, Ori’vod,” your lip trembles as your voice breaks, wanting to curl in on yourself. “Ni ceta,” you get out in barely a choked whisper.

But he hears you, and it breaks him. 

You’ve never referred to him as ori’vod before, and the idea that you consider him as such, as a big brother, awakens his protective, instinctive nature to gather you close and keep you safe from harm. 

His Vod, mostly his batchmate, Jesse, calls it his mother hen instincts.

He can’t help it, though. Your voice, sounding so much smaller than he’s ever heard it, trembling and filled with tears, has broken what’s left of his resolve, and gently, very gently, mindful of the fact that you’re injured, he takes you into his arms, holding you close to him. Your head buries against his shoulder, and he easily cradles you there, feeling every sharp intake of breath as you cry.

“Oh, adika, shh,” he soothes, hand coming up to gently stroke your hair as he continues to speak softly to you. “You’re okay, I promise, everything is going to be alright. I’ve got you, we are going to sort this out.”

*

“Well,” he says, reading over the results of the medical scan he’s just performed. Would you believe me if I told you that a dislocated shoulder is the least of your concerns?” 

Your eyes find the ceiling, and you exhale a slow breath before asking, “how bad?”

He keeps his voice neutral as he relays the results of the scan to you. “According to your last medical check, you were diagnosed with Iron deficiency anemia, not incredibly uncommon, what with our limited access to rations and food with the proper nutrients,” his brow creases as he continues. “However, preliminary scans indicate that your haemoglobin levels haven’t much improved.”

He gives you a look.“You have been taking the supplement you were prescribed?” he asks, in a way that makes you suspicious that he already knows that the answer is no.

You avoid looking at him. “I was, but they kept making my stomach feel queasy all day, so I stopped.”  

Kix Lets out a long suffering sigh. “An issue that we easily could have rectified by changing your treatment plan if you had just let us know,” he scolds. “Nonetheless, I’d like to do a blood test to get exact confirmation of those levels and see how bad the numbers are so that we can Start getting them back up to baseline.” 

Your stomach does a flip and you cringe silently at the mention of a blood test.

Kix continues, consulting the scan results that are displayed on a datapad. “You’ve got untreated burns on your fingers.” He raises a curious eyebrow at you and your cheeks flush.

“They weren’t entirely untreated, I put them under running water,” you try to argue. The unimpressed look he gives you stops you dead in your tracks.

“It wasn’t entirely my fault,” you defend. “I was fixing one of the starfighters that got hit during our last airstrike. I got R2 to help me with the repairs but he wasn’t listening to my instructions. He crossed two of the wrong wires and caused the circuitboard to spark.”

“And that is why you should never ask R2 for help,” he says with a hint of amusement in his voice. “Those burns weren’t given time to heal, and the fact that you’re constantly wielding a lightsaber has exacerbated them. I will apply a burn ointment to them that should take away the pain and speed the process of healing.” 

He fixes you with a look.  

“The most concerning thing is The blaster wound on the front of your right  calf. Really, vod, you should know that injuries being treated and stitched up on the field, especially when not done by a medic, always should be looked over by a medic as soon as possible, due to the unsanitary environment that they were performed in.”

“Tup did his best to stitch it,” you say, feeling the need to defend the brother who, in spite of the fact that he was not a medic, sutured you up as you took cover from separatist battle droids.

“I don’t doubt that he did. I was the instructor who took every single one of the troopers on this ship through their mandatory medical courses, and I did not let them pass without proving that they were adequately able to handle emergency first aid on the field. However, it still remains that you’ve picked up an infection, and to treat it, the sutures will have to be removed, the wound reopened, and extraction of the infected tissue, as well as a course of both IV and oral antibiotics to clear up anything that remains.”

You stare at him, your eyes growing wide with horror as he explains. “How?” You ask, alarmed.

He senses your nerves and leans forward, taking your hand and running his thumb along the back of it reassuringly. “This is a surgical procedure, performed under general anesthesia.” 

You flinch at his words, and your fingers tighten around his with anxiety, needing something to hold onto. 

“I know that sounds scary, especially if you’ve never been put under before. But I promise, this is a fairly common operation. Me and Coric will both be here making sure that you’re okay the whole time.” he continues to stroke his thumb along the backs of your knuckles.

“Let’s take this one step at a time, though. We’ll take care of the things that are manageable, first,” he says, giving you an encouraging smile.

*

“Hey uh...” you say nervously, watching with anxiety fluttering in your stomach as Kix ties a band just above your elbow, prepping you for the blood draw. The way the band tightens, restricts  and squeezes around your arm Makes you feel trapped. You hate it.

“I have... I’ve had, issues in the past when it comes to these,” you say awkwardly, not knowing how to explain.

Kix only looks up at you, raising a perceptive brow. “Are you referring to your predisposition of fainting whenever a blood draw is performed?” he asks, completely unfazed. 

It’s your turn to raise your eyebrows in questioning. “Don’t worry, Coric already has this listed in your file. I’m going to get you to lie down when we do it.”

He has the sensitivity and grace not to mention the fact that he also knows this because he walked into the medbay to find Coric absolutely tearing into a junior medic for letting you leave too soon after you had gotten a blood draw, resulting in you crumpling to the floor in a faint right outside of the medbay doors. 

At your continued staring, he adds, his voice softening. “It’s a normal reaction, that likely is exacerbated because of your low haemoglobin levels. There’s nothing wrong with you, Vod’ika.” he reassures, gently guiding you to lay down on the bed. “Now, just lay down for me, and we’ll get this over with quickly, and if you faint, you faint. It happens, no big deal, I’ll be right here regardless.”  

And because you’re you, you do faint.

The needle itself is always not as bad as you anticipate it being. The Sting, though prominent,  is small and quick and over before you have time to fixate on it. 

It’s only when he’s pressing a cotton swab into the crook of your arm, encouraging you to keep it in place while he puts a Band-Aid over top, that you register the familiar feeling of drowsiness, vision blurring and ears beginning to ring, that always comes before you pass out.

You think that you might give him some indication, some warning, because he’s removing your hand from where it’s been pressing against the cotton round, replacing it with his own, much more steady one. Everything around you is muffled, and it’s jarring, but in a way that is too far away from your immediate concerns to really react to it.

When you come to, he’s pressing a cool, damp cloth to the back of your neck, other hand gently stroking hair away from your forehead. His voice fades back into your consciousness, a stream of gentle, soothing words as your eyes flutter open.

The feeling of the cloth cools your heated skin, and the hand gently running through your hair brings your senses back to focus, grounding you.

“Easy, adika, i’m right here, you’re safe,” he brushes his fingers against your cheek, and when you react, leaning into his touch, he gives you a small smile. “That’s it, there we go, you’re back. Everything’s good,” he soothes, gently stalling your movement when you attempt to sit up.

“Not right now, vod, stay down for a few more minutes. I’ve already got the blood work running through the scanner, and we should have its results quickly, okay.” You give him a small nod, still not really having the energy to do much else. You close your eyes, taking deep breaths as you come back to yourself, and when the scanner beeps, indicating that it completed its diagnostics, you jump slightly.

Kix moves over to check it as you slowly sit up. “Okay, so, your numbers are definitely not nearly where they should be he says, clearly unimpressed.

“But, Once we have taken care of your more serious injuries, will start you with an iron infusion delivered through an IV before transitioning back to pills. Don’t worry, we’ll have you on a much smaller dosage so that we can hopefully circumvent the discomfort you had in your stomach,” he says with optimism, which makes you feel slightly better about the fact that he’s just mentioned an IV. You’re not given much time to fixate on it, though, because he’s already turning away from the scanner, moving back to you.

“Let’s not worry about that right now, though. We have enough problems having to deal with the mess That you’ve made of yourself. I will do my best to resist calling you a di’kut as much as possible,” he says, hands on his hips, and in spite of yourself, it actually makes you laugh.

*

You didn’t realize how sore and irritated the burns on your hands were until you couldn’t hold back the audible sigh of relief that fell from your lips as soon as Kix began applying the burn cream to them. The pain instantly vanished, leaving a pleasant, cooling sensation behind. He wrapped small bacta patches around your injured fingers, explaining that it would make sure that the healing process was unimpeded by the outside environment.

That was easy, quick, painless. 

Your shoulder, on the other hand, is a completely different matter. As soon as Kix touches it, as gentle as he can be, it flares with pain, and your muscles tense, which just makes it worse. 

“I don’t know how you’ve been functioning with this for as long as you have,” he comments dryly. When his fingers press against the bone, assessing the damage with a practised familiarity, you cry out, eyes squeezing shut.

“Haar’chak,” you grit out, as behind you, Kix preps a syringe with local anesthetic. 

“Which one of my di’kut brothers taught you curse words in Mandoa?” he asks, beginning to disinfect the injection site.

You flinch at the cold and your cheeks flush. “Shit, you weren’t supposed to hear that. I can’t tell you that, I made a promise.” 

“Did you now?” he asks, fighting the amused smirk that plays on his lips. “Well, whoever it was, you might as well put your skills that they taught you to use.”

You look at him from over your shoulder, eyebrows raising in confusion.

He explains, “I need to give you an injection of local anaesthetic so that it takes the edge off of resetting your shoulder correctly. I know those aren’t your favourite , so, I am making a deal with you. Let me do this, and I give you free rein to throw whatever Mandoa insult my brothers have taught you at me, no consequences. Is that fair?”

The unimpressed look you’re giving at the syringe turns to surprise, then, slowly, a smile spreads across your face and you nod, quickly looking away from it. “Deal,” you accept, your voice still shaky with nerves but determined.

“Okay, deep breath for me,” He waits for you to inhale. “Perfect, now, on the exhale, give me that insult with all of your might. Ready?”

He waits for you to nod, then prompts you to exhale as he administers the anaesthetic into the back of your shoulder.

“Osi’yaim, that hurt, you di’kut,” what should be just a little pinch to your already injured shoulder makes you cry out the words, and you swear you can hear the familiar sound of Coric laughing from the other side of the medbay.

Your cheeks flush, you did not intend to be that loud. But you don’t apologize, either, and Kix only gives you a rueful grin, nodding in understanding.  

As you wait for the anaesthetic to settle, Kix warns, “I’m gonna be honest, kid, because of how long you’ve left this injury to sit, even with the anesthetic, setting it is still going to hurt.” 

You close your eyes, grimacing, before nodding with a sigh. “Do your worst,” you say, bracing yourself.

He lays a reassuring hand on your uninjured shoulder. “I need you relaxed, adika,” he says gently. “Trust me, it will only hurt more if you tense like that,” he continues, gently encouraging your shoulder downward with his hand.

“Easy, now. I want you to give me some good deep breath’s. In,” he inhales deeply, holding for a few seconds, “and out,” he lets his breath go in a controlled, slow stream of air.

He waits for you to copy, giving you a few breaths to settle into it as he prepares himself. “Perfect, just like that, keep it up, you’ve got this,” he keeps up the stream of encouraging words as carefully, but firmly, he rotates your arm, guiding your dislocated shoulder back into its proper place with one precise movement.

The sudden flare of pain, even dulled as it is by the anesthetic, takes your breath away momentarily, your vision instantly blurring with tears. When it clears,Kix has shifted to standing in front of you, gently wiping them away with his thumbs.

“Well done, vod’ika, you were so brave,” his words make you want to cry more, because you didn’t think you were brave. You thought that being brave meant confidence, at all times, and not letting other people see your vulnerability. You can’t fully understand it, but, now, you’re beginning to think that maybe your initial idea of bravery was wrong.

Your lip wobbles as you speak, “W what now?” you look up at him with wide, still watery eyes.

He gently strokes your hair. “Now, I’m going to get Coric, and you,” he playfully taps your nose, “are going to take a much-needed nap, if the bags under your eyes are any indication, while we take care of that leg wound.” 

*

It sounds simple enough. 

Kix explains the procedure while Coric preps you for surgery, making sure all your vitals are stable. As he wraps a blood pressure cuff around your arm, he tells you that that’s essentially his job while he’s in here. Throughout the surgery, he will monitor your vitals and make sure that they remain at safe levels. 

“I’m going to remove the sutures, clean the wound, remove the infected tissue, pack the wound with saline soaked dressings, then bandage it back up so that it can heal. It goes without saying that you’re going to be off the field for at least a week. You’ll need to stay here so that we can continue to monitor your recovery as well as change the dressings often. You will also need to undergo a course of IV antibiotics to kill off any lingering infection. This will also give us time to get your haemoglobin levels back up with an infusion.”

Your eyes close tightly as anxiety knots your stomach. “Oh, force, a week? But, my master needs me,” you protest.

When your eyes open again, both medics are fixing you with equally stern looks. “Your master needs you to be safe, and healthy,” says Coric, frowning, as he carefully attaches a pulse oximeter to one of your fingers. 

“If you want to be back on the field as soon as possible, you will take this week of recovery. If you want to argue with me about it, I will make it longer. A week is the absolute minimum,” Kix says, arms folded across his chest, wearing his signature “i’m the chief medical officer, you have no authority here,” expression.

You visibly deflate, reminding yourself that you pick and choose your battles, and picking and choosing a battle with two medics who are very competent at dealing with very stubborn Jedi would be a very stupid idea. 

You can’t help yourself, and in spite of the fact that you shouldn’t, you stare as Kix preps your wrist for an IV line.

Sensing you’re mounting anxiety as your eyes nervously flit around, watching  Kix’s Every move, Coric gently takes your other hand, squeezing when your eyes don’t immediately look at him. When you finally tear your eyes away from what Kix is doing, Coric is wearing a mischievous smile on his face. “So, Vod’ika, who taught you how to curse in Mandoa?” he asks, raising a curious brow.

You only scoff, rolling your eyes. “Kix already tried to find out. What makes you think that I’m going to tell that secret to you?”

“I’ve already got my suspicions. My moneys on Echo or Fives.” he gives you a wounded look, “I thought you would tell me, because I’m obviously your favourite.”

Kix uses this conversation to quickly insert the IV into a vein on your wrist. Reacting to the small pinch, your fingers instinctively tighten around Coric’s hand, squeezing it tightly.

“You’re definitely my favourite now,” you grumble, giving Kix a sidelong glare.

He gives you an apologetic look. “Sorry, Vod, i’m going to run the medication through the line now. It will act quickly, and when you wake up, this will be all done with.” 

You nod, biting your lip nervously. Coric notices, giving your hand another gentle squeeze. “Hey, kid, I know you’ve heard Kix say kaysh mirsh solus all the time. Do you know what it means?” 

You look at him with curiosity, shaking your head.

“Well, essentially it means they are stupid or foolish. But, the literal translation is even more direct .” Coric gives you a conspiratorial smile.

“What is it?” You ask as he leans forward. 

“The literal translation means their braincell is lonely,” he says, completely serious.

You feel a smile pulling up the corners of your lips and a surprised laugh falls from them. 

You feel the medication beginning to enter your system, but you’re so busy laughing that you can’t bring yourself to care. “You better not be bullshitting me,” you threaten,“or I...” you let out a yawn.

“I swear to the force, I,” your eyes begin to flutter and you yawn again, shrugging.

“I’ll think about it later,” you mumble sleepily, before promptly passing out, smile still lighting up your face.

*

Your leg hurts.

That’s the first thing you become aware of as Kix is gently encouraging you to open your eyes.

“Come on, adika, open your eyes for me,” he says  softly, fingers gently brushing against your cheek to bring you back to awareness.

“But it hurts, and I wanna go back to sleep,” you wine, blinking sleepily up at him. 

“Ni ceta, vod’ika,” he soothes, fingers gently caressing your forehead in an apology. “I know it hurts, and you can go back to sleep soon, I promise,” 

He glances at something that you can’t see, giving a small nod,“Vitals look good, the anaesthesia is wearing off nicely, and it doesn’t appear to have affected them too much. Let’s up that IV dosage,” Kix speaks to Coric, who moves to adjust your IV out of your eyeline.

Your leg throbs, and you let out a stifled whimper, hand reaching down, trying to at least find the source of your pain when Kix catches it in his, gently stalling your movements. “Let’s leave that alone for now, vod’ika. Coric is just increasing your pain med intake, that will make it better. Then you can sleep,” 

At the continued expression of pain on your face, he lets go of your hand, fingers gently playing with your hair as he instructs, “nice and easy, adika, deep breath‘s for me, everything’s okay.” 

You don’t believe him at first, but slowly, things become okay. The pain quickly fades and dulls , breathing becomes easier, and your eyes begin to flutter. All the while, Kix continues holding his vigil at your bedside, fingers continuing to gently run through your hair until you fall into a natural sleep.

*

When you properly wake up next, the first thing you notice is that your leg doesn’t hurt anymore.

Whatever pain meds Kix has got you hooked up to are very effective, and your lips pull into a relieved smile. 

The second thing you notice, when you glance around to get your bearings, is the face of your very concerned captain, Rex, at your bedside. You blink slowly, yawning. Although the anaesthetic has worn off, the pain meds still have you feeling like you’re in a fog, and your brain is working pretty slowly.

“When did you get here?” you ask, confused.

“I came straight here after you never reported to the bridge for today’s debriefing. The general said that you would be back today, and it’s unlike you to miss or forget about meetings,” he explains, looking at you, relieved to see you awake, but a flicker of concern still lingering in his eyes.

“Osik, sorry, Rex, I got myself into a bit of a bind over here,” you gesture to the IV that you’re hooked up to, chuckling a little.

“So I heard, don’t worry about it, kid. There wasn’t much to report, anyways.” His head tilts, and he raises a questioning eyebrow.“Who taught you how to curse in Mandoa, vod’ika?” he asks, keeping his voice light.

If you weren’t under the influence of pretty heavy duty pain medication‘s, you would have restraint, you would have thought before you opened your mouth. But for Rex, it was his lucky day.

you smirk, “good old Hardcase taught me everything I know,” you say with pride, smiling fondly at the memory.

Rex carefully files that information away so that he can scold Hardcase for that once he leaves. But he carefully keeps his face neutral.

His face grows serious. “Kix told me about all the medical appointments you’ve missed and the injuries that you’ve been covering up,” his voice is stern, every bit the commanding officer that he is in front of the troops. It makes you nervous, and you swallow, looking away from him.

“I swear to the force, if you ever pull something like that again, I will find out about it, and I’ll drag you to the medbay myself, even if it means chasing you around the ship and stunning you if I have to. do you realize how much danger you were in? How much danger you put others in? That was extremely reckless of you, commander. I’m very disappointed in your actions,  and it will not happen again, do you understand?”

Your hazy memory recalls the conversation you had with Kix earlier, about this very thing, and for some reason, it hits even harder seeing the disappointment, worry and concern etched on the face of the normally composed captain.

Without prompting, you find yourself bursting into tears. 

Later, you’ll blame the pain meds on your inability to keep a grip on your emotions. But right now, all you can do is think about the people, the brothers, you could have hurt, the things that could’ve happened because of you, and the tears just fall down your face, streaming from your eyes, falling down your cheeks, into your ears, dampening your hair.

.“I I’m sorry Captain I I didn’t I,” you gasp out, trying to explain, but your brain is still foggy, only clinging onto the hazy images of loss and pain due to your inability to act fast enough.

There’s a reason why people are convinced that Kix has eyes on the back of his head. Working as the highest ranking medic in the 501st has trained him to be hyper observant of all of his patients, even if he isn’t at their bedside. 

So, even though he’s been taking the time to update your file on a datapad, unbeknownst to either you or Rex, he’s also been watching you like a hawk, and the minute you begin to show that you’re overwhelmed, he’s swooping in on the two of you, protective mother hen mode fully activated by the tears falling down your cheeks.

He steps in front of you, broad shoulders immediately blocking your view of your commanding officer. “Captain,” he says, and his voice is still respectful, but there’s a hard edge beneath it, something stern that you haven’t heard before, even during the worst of him lecturing you.

“You are causing undue stress to my patient, and I’m going to have to ask you to leave, sir,” he continues, physically ushering Rex to the door.

More quietly, out of your earshot, he says,“I have already harshly reprimanded the commander. Trust me, this experience will ensure that the lesson will not be forgotten.  Now, if you want to be of use, get the general and bring him to me, please. I need to speak with him. Between you and me, Rex, I’m blaming this ordeal on him.” 

Rex begins to make an objection, but  Kix is already turning away, folding his arms. “I don’t care if you have to drag him out of council meetings. His Padawan is more important,” he shoots back, before quickly moving back to your side, all of his hard lines instantly fading at the sight of your tear streaked face.

He’s all gentleness and soft reassurances uttered as he cups your face, wiping away your tears. When you struggle into a sitting position, falling against his chest as your arms clumsily reach for him, his arms easily pull you close to him and you sob, trying to explain.

“Kix, I, I didn’t mean to, I never wanted to hurt anyone,” you whisper, clutching at him, burying your face into the crook of his neck, wanting to disappear, feeling his body shift, one hand splayed out, rubbing your back in slow, soothing circles, the other coming up to cradle your head, holding you against his warmth, sheltering you.

“Oh, adika, shh, I know. You didn’t hurt anyone, vod’ika, nothing happened,” he coos, tightening his arms around you. Lips press against your hair briefly, and you continue to cry, letting your emotions run their course as he cradles you to him, gently rocking you back-and-forth, as if you were a much smaller child.  

In this moment, you certainly feel like you are, and it’s comforting, the way he holds and settles you against him , making gentle shushing noises and speaking in low, soothing tones, the words eventually losing their meaning as sleep, yet again, gently pulls at your consciousness.

The last thing you’re aware of is him gently guiding you to lie back down, another medic, you think it’s Coric, passing him a freshly warmed blanket that he tucks around you, and a hand gently brushing through your hair as you drift back to sleep, your storm settled and calmed by his words and his presence.

*

Anakin Skywalker had been in meetings with the Jedi high Council all day, was running on his 3rd cup of caff, and still found himself stifling a yawn every five minutes. So, when Rex silently slipped into the room, politely interrupting the meeting to request that Anakin report to the medbay, he instinctively rolled his eyes, grumbling that he would go later. 

But when Rex stated that this wasn’t actually about him, and was in regards to his Padawan, Anakin was out of his seat in an instant, hastily making his excuses to the council before leaving the room, legs carrying him to the medbay faster than he ever had moved there before.

He doesn’t even stop to look as behind him, Rex calls to a group of troopers in a booming voice, “Hardcase, get Over here right now,  you di’kut, I need to talk to you regarding professionalism when it comes to working with young Padawan’s .”

When he’s escorted into a cubicle, his eyes grow wide with alarm at the sight of you, peacefully asleep, but your face looks exhausted and worn out. You’re hooked up to an IV and monitors, there’s a thick bandage that’s been secured to the bottom half of your right leg.

Kix keeps his voice low and quiet, so as not to disturb you, but he fixes your master with a hard look as he takes him through an overview of your current health status.

“Iron deficiency anemia, burns, a dislocated shoulder, a blaster wound that had to be surgically operated on due to an untreated infection that had grown quite severe and needed to be manually removed, as well as several muscle strains and bruised ribs that can be healed with proper rest.” 

His mouth falls open at the growing list, but Kix only folds his arms, continuing to speak. “General, sir, your Padawan looks to you with the highest regard, and you lead the way by example. All of these issues could have been caught much earlier and treated without having to deal with all this,” he gestures at everything you’re hooked up to.

“This behaviour was learned, and when I pressed, I found that at the root of the problem was fear of disappointing you and letting you down,” he waits for these words to sink in, and when they do, Anakin Skywalker, Jedi general who is known for his strength and recklessness on the field, hangs his head with shame, eyes finding the floor and refusing to look at Kix directly.

His meaning is clear, you are his Padawan, and as your master, it’s his responsibility to set a good example for you, and in this regard, watching pain medication flow through the IV line attached to your wrist, he knows he has failed to do so.

“So, just maybe, the next time you decide that are mandatory medical checks are optional and you can manage on your own, maybe just, consider this,” Kix gestures to you, still deeply asleep.

Before your master can respond, not that he really has any words to do so, Kix turns on his heel, quickly exiting the room before he can be reprimanded for speaking to his superior that way, not that he really cares, anyway.

If he had stayed, though, he would have seen Anakin tentatively move to your side, gently sitting on the edge of your bed as he strokes back your hair and adjusts the blankets that are tucked around you, properly shamefaced as he looks down at you and says in a voice that is soft and rarely heard coming out of him, “I’m sorry, kiddo, this one’s on me.”

*

“And this,” says Kix, quickly injecting the third and final mandatory vaccination into your arm, “is your ticket out of here.”

The week of recovery has come and gone, And you have finally been cleared to head back onto the field, as long as you continue to follow a regimen of oral antibiotics for the next week, and, more excitingly in your opinion, get out of the medbay.

“There you go, you did it,” Fives, who’s been sitting across from you, happily agreeing to be your emotional support/cheerleader, ready with a damp cloth if you need it, does a little celebratory dance that makes you laugh, even as Kix, sensing that you’re feeling unsteady, gets you to lay down.

Fives gently places the cool cloth against your skin, and it’s enough to ground you, pulling you back from the edge.

“That’s it, Vod’ika, well done, you did great,” Kix says encouragingly, giving your shoulder a warm squeeze. “Now, wait 15 minutes, and as long as you’re feeling back to normal, you can get out of here,” he smiles down at you, patting your head affectionately before moving out of the cubicle.

As soon as he’s gone, Fives liens in conspiratorially, face lighting up with mischievousness sparkling in his eyes. “Hey, kid, I bet you 10 credits that I could easily sneak you out right now and we could make this 15 minutes go a lot faster,” he grins.

In spite of the fact that you smile back at him and laugh lightly, you give your head a small shake and throw a cautious look over your shoulder.

“Are you kidding? I’ve been here for a whole week, and the biggest thing I’ve learned is that  Kix and Coric do, in fact, have eyes in the back of their heads. We wouldn’t even make it out of the door.” 

It’s true, you’ve seen several different troopers trying to carefully sneak out of the medbay when they think that no one is watching. 

What you’ve learned, though, is that the medics of Torrent Company are always watching. Nothing gets past their keen eyes or ears, and no one successfully sneaks out undetected. 

You grimace, “besides, I’ve just gotten off of Kix’s bad side, and I have no desire to go back there.”

“So,” Fives says, resignedly coming to sit on the edge of your bed with a sigh. “We’re waiting the 15 minutes?”

You carefully sit up, giving him a nod and a decisive look as you lean your head against his shoulder..

“Yes, Fives,” you affirm, letting out a small sigh of your own. “We are waiting the 15 minutes.”

************************* thank you so much for reading. Comments and re-blogs are always appreciated here.are always appreciated here.

Mandoa translations. Kaysh mirsh solus, they are stupid/foolish. Ori’vod: Big Brother (in this instance) can also be used as big sister or big sibling. Ni ceta: i’m sorry. Vod: Brother/ sister/ sibling. Adika: little one. Vod’ika: Little sister, little brother, or little sibling Haar’chak: damm it. Di’kut: Fool (literal translation is underwear forgeter) which kills me. Osi’yaim: shithead. Osik: shit.

[clone-wars-winter-challenge]

Last time for a would you rather before the prompts begin!

[gen-ao3]

Star wars makes no kriffing sense. I love it, but it makes no sense. If I have to read one more fic where they can't really make out if the other person is blushing through the blue of the hologram, I will scream. Because apparently we can do fucking light speed travel but not video calls with colour

(Except, of course, if you're a Separatist leader on a droid command ship above Ryloth accepting a transmission from your opponent, then you're suddenly able to see Anakin Skywalker's face on a 4 meter diameter screen in HD. That's important)

[freesia-writes]

Originating from this post, I'd like to offer a list of longfics featuring TCW/TBB characters for those of you looking for some good reads! Feel free to drop any others into my asks! Fics are general audience or PG-13 unless noted "Mature" at the end.

The links are mostly to the post with the authors' descriptions so you can get a better idea of what each one is about!

Crosshair

Sharp Edges - @spicy-clones and @lightwise - Crosshair x F!Reader - Mature

Quiet Corners of the Galaxy - @badbatchposts - Crosshair x OC plus Batch/others - Mature

When the Order Fell - @victimofdavefiloni - Crosshair x OC - Mature

Caught in the Crosshairs - @silverwings22 - Crosshair x OC - Mature

Half-Moon Glow - @moonstrider9904 - Crosshair x OC; TCW AU - Mature

Roasted, Brewed, and Served with Attitude - MelMorganne99 - Crosshair x OC in Modern Police AU

It Never Rains - @letsquestjess - Crosshair x OC

Sunflowers and Blasters - @523rdrebel - Crosshair x OC

Only What Burns You Back - @the-little-moment - Crosshair x OC - Mature

Tech

Tech and Vel - @freesia-writes - Tech x OC

Song of the Sea - @silverwings22 - Tech x Alien OC - Mature

Tech as a Father - @missfrieden - Tech and Batch

Gravitation - @moonstrider9904 - Tech x OC AU - Mature

Meltdown - @autistic-artistech - Tech x OC - Mature

Brother, Hold Me Up - @lifblogs - Tech, Batch, Others - Mature

The World Goes Cold - @lifblogs - Tech, Batch - Mature

Hunter

Beyond the Shadow of a Doubt - @freesia-writeswrites - Hunter x OC

Hunter and the Librarian - @clonethirstingisreal - Hunter x OC - modern day AU

Sun and Rain - @photogirl894 - Hunter x OC

As Iron Sharpens Iron - @arctrooper69 - Hunter x Reader

Echo

Not Just the Carcass, But the Spark - @the-little-moment - Echo x OC - Mature

Test Subject/System Upgrade - @just-here-with-my-thoughts - Echo and the Batch

Rex

Captain's Log - @rexxdjarin - Rex x OC - Mature

Wolffe

I Yearn, and So I Fear - enigmaticexplorer - Wolffe x OC - Mature

The Wolfpack Queen - @reader6898 - Wolffe x OC - Mature

No Strings Attached and Walk Me Home (sequel) - @cyarbika - Wolffe x F!Reader - Mature

Multiple Featured Characters

Rise of the Clones - @AmberOwl24 - SO MANY CHARACTERS!

Stars Beyond Number - @dystopicjumpsuit - Clone Rebellion Echo x Riyo, Gregor x OC - Mature

The Moonwalker Series - @moonstrider9904 - Batch x OC (love triangle then single pairing) - Mature

Line of Destiny: A Series - @ilikemymendarkandfictional - Multiple Stories: Rex x OC, Crosshair x OC, Clone OCs and Howzer

Same Heart - @dumfanting - F!Reader x TCW Echo, then Fives, then Echo/Cross Poly - Mature

Blood Daughter - @letsquestjess - OC + Bad Batch Adventure 

A Lupe of Faith - @lonewolflupe - Jedi!OC x Fives, later x Hunter - Mature eventually

Stronger Together - @cloneflo99 - Rex/Crosshair x OC - Mature

Other Clones

Quantum Entanglement - @freesia-writes - Howzer x OC

Martyrs and Kings - @dystopicjumpsuit - Post-Stasis Kix x OC - Mature

The Only Exception - @starqueensthings - Howzer x OC - Mature

Disillusioned - @amberskyyking - OC + OC Clone Squad Adventure - Mature-ish

The Helmeted Hunter - @jedimasterlenawrites - Boba Fett x F!Reader - PG-13

Children of Providence - @ladysongmaster - Din Djarin, TCW Characters Adventure

The Last Word - @ariadnes-red-thread - Fives x OC

One Step at a Time - @wild-karrde - Clone OC - Mature

Welcome to the Outpost - @just-here-with-my-thoughts - Mayday!!

[leapingbadger]

Rumors

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Crosshair sold ‘im,” Wrecker chuckled.

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

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

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

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

“Where to?” The cabbie asked.

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

[wantonlywindswept]

release the kraken corries

okay so imagine that like a year or so into the war palpatine thinks 'actually i would prefer to have my future apprentice more nearby for corrupting' so he decides to recall anakin and the 501st to coruscant, because they definitely need their best jedi defending the front and oh wouldn't you look at that, a certain senator is always there too! wins all around!

but now the 501st is bored out of their minds and need something to do and anakin won't let them go back out onto the front because they're his, so the excellent solution?

the 501st replace the corries! clones are interchangeable anyway, right?

and even though the corries haven't seen frontline battle it's fiiine even if they get wiped out, bc palps has what he wants on coruscant now

and it's not like the corries have ever needed a jedi so why would they need one now? so they're given to some whatever-admiral and booted out to go join the frontline rotations, problem solved.

within 3 days the corries have either manipulated the admiral into thinking he's calling all the shots when it's actually fox or they've introduced him to an unfortunate airlock malfunction, so sad, couldn't have happened to a worse person

and with no jedi around they don't have anyone saying ridiculous shit like 'we should try negotiation first' or 'you can't assassinate every political leader on the planet'

(alpha 17 bullies his way on board within a week)

and they start blasting around the galaxy Getting Shit Done and it is maybe not the best in terms of optics but wow those clone death toll numbers sure do go down

and one of the times they (grudgingly) work with another battalion the other clones are going 'what the absolute shit' while the corries steamroll over everything in their path, an absolutely feral group of highly-trained shock troopers used to fighting dirty and utilizing insane tactics from years on coruscant FINALLY able to take out their frustrations on the unsuspecting galaxy separatists

Cody, halfheartedly, the Jedi Council making encouraging motions just out of sight of holocall: Fox could you please tone it down a little.

Fox, sipping a spimosa at some sleezy separatist's castle he just took over: How about no.

Cody, hissing through gritted teeth: I am so fucking envious of you right now.

[dangraccoon]

Untitled Spreadsheet - PRIVATE

Chapter 1 - Tea

Word Count: 307

Content: fluff, disaster cody

For @literallyjustanerd, based on this post

Cody had been hunched over his datapad at his desk for far too long, eyes endlessly scanning the seemingly infinite list of reports, documents, and maps. The light of his datapad was giving him a headache. 

There was a knock at his office’s door. 

“Yeah?” he called, not looking up from his datapad. “What do you need?”

“Not much at the moment, Commander,” Obi-Wan Kenobi smiled as the door slid open. “I thought you could use a pick-me-up while we review our plans.”

Cody thought he might’ve snapped his neck with how fast he straightened up. 

“Apologies, General,” he said. “I was expecting Lieutenant Waxer before our meeting.”

“That’s quite alright,” the General said dismissively. “I’m early, but I brought you some tea.”

The Jedi offered a warm smile with the warm mug and Cody felt his face warm in response.  

“Thank you, sir,” Cody muttered. His heart rate was elevated. That was just from the startle the General gave him, right? It definitely was not because the General was the most beautiful person Cody had ever seen. 

“Of course,” the General said, sipping from his own mug, the picture of professionalism. “This is an Alderaanian blend; a gift from Senator Organa.”

Cody nodded as he took a sip. It was somewhat fruity with some kind of spice. It wasn’t bad, but Cody preferred caf anyway. “It’s very good. Thank you, sir.”

General Kenobi smiled and nodded, simply moving on to begin discussing the upcoming campaign. 

Cody: It would be crazy to think that it was anything more than a kind gesture, wouldn’t it?

Rex: …

Rex: youre asking me if i think it would be crazy to think that your general gave you a cup of tea because hes in love with you

Cody: Yes.

Rex: and i thought you were the SANE one in your batch

Event: Brought me a cup of tea before a review of our battle plans for Ryloth operation

Rational Explanation: The General was extending a gesture of goodwill and cameraderie to build unit cohesion

Irrational Explanation: Acts of service are the General's love language and he wants to show me he will take care of me

Additional Notes: The tea was not from the standard ration packs and seems to have come from the General's private supply

Next Chapter ↬

Thanks for reading! - River

Untitled Spreadsheet - PRIVATE Master List DangRaccoon Master List Tag List Form Read on AO3

Tags: @nekotaetae @lokigirlszendaya @get-wr3ckered @jediknightjana @idoubleswearimawriter @lucyysthings @unstable-kiwi @6oceansofmoons @l3xi3luv @savebytheodoresnonjosestuff @winter-phoenix1995 @nomercyforthewarrior @padawancat97 @wishyouthetest @orangez3st @flowered-bicycles @error6gendernotfound @techs-goggles9902

[starrylothcat]

For the 'sweet and intimate actions' prompts you reblogged, may I request some 12 (Character B tucking Character A’s head under their chin while they’re cuddling) with a touch of 13 (Character B nuzzling their neck and breathing in Character A’s scent/fragrance, and commenting on how nice they smell) with Rex and short fem!reader?

No obligation! (eternal-transcience)

With You

Pairing: Rex x Fem!Reader, but can also be Gen!Reader

Warnings: None. Fluff, fluffy fluffy fluff. Kissing, but nothing explicit. Established relationship.

WC: ~700

Summary: You and Rex share a morning in bed.

A/N: Hello @eternal-transcience ! Thank you so much for the ask. Rex is King and I haven’t written for him in awhile, so I was happy to get this request! I was possessed by the Fluff Gods and wrote this fluffy lil’ piece for you. I hope you enjoy it!

Prompts taken from Sweet and Intimate Actions list.

You woke slowly, blinking sleep out of your eyes and stretching under the pile of blankets that lay on top of you.

You instinctively reached over, hoping your hand would meet the warmth of Rex’s shoulder or chest, but instead found empty mattress.

You frowned, knowing he had probably been up for hours working on reports. You never expected Rex to toss aside his duties for you, but sometimes he didn’t know when to take a break.

You sat up fully, ready to find Rex and drag him back to bed.

As your feet hit the carpeted floor, the bedroom door opened and Rex stepped in, holding two cups of hot caf.

“Good morning.” He smiled softly, the wrinkles you loved so much appearing at the sides of his eyes. It was something he was self-conscious about, but you lived to see those wrinkles, since they only appeared when he was smiling. When he was happy.

He set the caf down on your nightstand, kissing your forehead as he did so.

“How long have you been awake?” You asked, watching as he strode to his side of the bed, placing his caf down as he sat on the edge of the mattress.

“Not long. Figured you’d be up soon, thought I’d take it slow this morning.”

You grinned, settling back into bed as he did the same. Rex pulled you into him, placing his chin on your head, and tucking your face into the crook of his neck. He knew you loved this, being so close to him and safe in his arms.

“Taking it slow is something we never get to do.” You mumbled as you snuggled even closer to him, his strong arms draped around your smaller form, huddled entirely to his warm, solid body.

Rex hummed, stroking your back in gentle, rhythmic movements that made your eyelids droopy.

“I know…” He kissed the top of your head. “That’s why I’m back in bed.”

You removed your head from his neck, taking in everything that was him. He was basked in the early morning light, tanned muscle decorated with scars of different shapes and sizes that you have traced and memorized time and time again.

Rex was resolute in so many things. His duty to the Republic. His love for his brothers. His dedication to you. You will always be a loving and safe place for him, just as he is for you.

He was beautiful in all sense of the word. You couldn’t believe how lucky you were to have him by your side.

He must have been thinking the same as you as his gentle honeyed eyes met yours. He wordlessly brought a calloused hand to your cheek, capturing your lips in a long, worshipful kiss. You sighed against his lips, lightly running your fingertips over his buzzed head. He hummed in delight, deepening the kiss, his thumb stroking your cheek.

Rex laid you down on your back, covering his body with yours as he kissed you. You moved together in practiced rhythm, a loving dance that didn’t need words.

When you both finally parted for air, Rex gazed down at you with such reverence you felt butterflies explode in your stomach. He somehow always made you feel like you were meeting for the first time, enraptured by one another’s presence.

“I love you.” You whispered, mirroring his motion from before, stroking his cheek right below his eye. His eyes fluttered close at your touch, leaning into your hand. Rex slowly and carefully laid down on top of you, slightly off to the side to not crush you under his weight.

It was his turn to nuzzle himself into you, hearing him inhale and feeling him smile against your skin. “So sweet…” Rex rumbled, pressing his lips to your neck. “Always so sweet for me…” You felt his body relax against yours, his large hand finding your smaller one.

“I love you too, mesh’la. No matter where I am in the galaxy.”

You both lay there, tangled in one another, enjoying the quiet calm of the morning before you or Rex were called back to reality. The caf sat at your bedside tables, getting cold as you let yourselves be lost in one another.

It was a small slice of paradise, a glimpse of a peaceful life you could hopefully have one day, and you were going to enjoy every second of it.

Taglist: @crosshairlovebot @sev-on-kamino @kimiheartblade @wizardofrozz @clonemedickix @sunshinesdaydream @kashasenpai @freesia-writes @multi-fan-dom-madness @aconstructofamind @dreamie411 @dystopicjumpsuit @wings-and-beskar @starqueensthings @idontgetanysleep @secretthegriffin @anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @secondaryrealm @littlemissmanga @coraex @maybethatfanfictionwriter @pb-jellybeans @wanderer-six @king-chaos-world @wolffegirlsunite @dukeoftheblackstar @523rdrebel @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @sleepingsun501 @cw80831 @dangraccoon @mythical-illustrator @din-miller

Dividers by @freesia-writes (Rex) and @saradika

[cc--2224]

This Is Me Trying

Pairing: Cody x Reader

Chapter Summary: You work in the Archive Room at the Jedi temple under Jocasta Nu. You have a tendency to lose yourself in your work, and don't give yourself enough free time for yourself or to see friends, so it's only natural for her to step in when Commander Cody pays the Archive Room a visit.

Warnings: Alcohol mentions and Jocasta being a menace (affectionate), tiny bit of miscommunication but it gets resolved like immediately

Notes: This is going to be a multi-chapter fic, I've been working on it for almost an entire year and still not done lmaoo I have a few chapters done here and there but please be patient with updates :)

Word Count: ~4.6k

Taglist: Complete this form to be added

Masterlist

1 |

The day started out easy, simple, just as every day before it. You woke up to artificial light streaming in the window, the daily signal it was time to start getting ready. It wasn’t hard to pull yourself out of bed, it meant you would be heading to a job you enjoyed. Not many people on Coruscant could say that. 

It was a little strange, working for the Jedi when you weren’t one yourself, but with the ongoing war stretching their resources thin, Jocasta Nu had requested help from outside the Order in the Archive Room. The rest of the Jedi were a bit hesitant about it, while they had employed many people at the temple who weren’t part of the Order, those employees had all been tenured before the war had even started, not to mention most of them being in charge of things like maintenance and transportation, rather than something like the Jedi Archive Room, so there wasn’t the same issue of trust. Even after you had gone through all the testing and interviews to even get a chance at working there, there was still some hesitation. Lucky for you, Jocasta was a good judge of character, and the council trusted her, although it wasn’t unusual for them to make the trip to the Archive Room to see how it was going whenever they could. 

Once you had gotten to know them, they began to trust you, and you them. You weren’t necessarily their friends, it would take a while for the more serious members of the council like Ki Adi Mundi or Mace Windu to see you as anything less than a threat, but for those like Obi-Wan Kenobi or even Yoda who already frequented the Archive Room, you were at least on amicable terms. 

You enjoyed learning about the Jedi and their history, there were some areas that were off limits to you, which you could understand, but overall, you found your job relaxing. It was easy enough work, you primarily organized the holobooks or helped people find things they were looking for, in truth a droid could have easily done your work for you, but you enjoyed it and Jocasta seemed to like having company while the Jedi were gone. You often found yourself getting lost in everything you did. There were many times where Jocasta had to remind you that you didn't need to stay there all night when you lost track of time. 

You liked being surrounded by the people who typically ventured to the Archive Room, meeting all the younglings who were excited to start their training and padawans who were running errands for their masters. You probably spent more time at the temple than you did at home, but you didn’t see any issue with that. Jocasta made a few comments about how often you were there, but you had always assured her that you were happy to spend so much time there. 

If there was one complaint you had, it was that it didn’t pay enough for an apartment topside, but you figured you’d have to be a senator to make nearly enough for that. So instead, you made your little shoebox, which was only a couple levels down, seem like home, ignoring the noisiness of the neighbours and the railspeeders that rattled the walls. The only real grievance for you was that you had to leave early in the day to arrive on time.

It was quiet in the temple when you arrived there that day. You went straight to the Archive Room and greeted Jocasta before returning to the holobooks you had left to reorganize the previous day. 

You had heard someone enter and speak to Jocasta, you didn't hear what they had asked for, but based on how their voice sounded, it was a clone. 

The clones were still somewhat of a mystery to you, you understood why the Jedi relied on them, but you hadn't really gotten to know them well enough to know what they were really like. If they all were truly the same or if they just looked the same. You could admit that there was a part of you that was slightly intimidated by them, all you had really known about them was that they were created to provide aid in the war, so you had assumed from that small piece of information that they must have all been stoic soldiers. You knew it wasn’t a fair generalization, but you had never been in a situation where you could get to know any of them. As much as you had wanted to get to know them, to change the idea of them that had been planted in your head, your paths had never crossed before.

You had been so lost in your thoughts about them that you didn't even notice the same clone standing beside you until he cleared his throat to get your attention, causing you to jolt slightly.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." he said, a slight smirk on his face.

You looked up at him and smiled in return, he was handsome, his armour was clean though scuffed and scratched from wear. He wasn’t wearing his helmet when he approached you, so you could see that he didn’t really have any features to distinguish himself from the other clones, except for an interesting scar that wrapped around his left eye. You realized you had just been staring at him without actually answering, so you quickly remedied that, "No, not at all, I was just lost in thought, I didn't notice you. Can I help you?"

"I hope so," He showed you a datapad with a list of different titles on it, all holobooks covering different topics, "General Kenobi sent me to retrieve these. I don't even know where to start." 

You found it odd that Master Kenobi would send someone else to the Archive Room for him, normally he wouldn't hesitate to browse the archives himself. You figured that he must have his hands tied with everything going on.

You read over the list again, "These shouldn't be too hard to find." 

You led him all over the Archive Room pulling the different holobooks out and placing them on a hover cart, you almost had to laugh at how many Master Kenobi wanted. 

“I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before.” You pointed out as you took the first book from the list off the shelf, placing it on a hovercart that followed you as you walked.

“No, this is my first time here, but I’d like to fix that. They’ve got a library like this in Tipoca City, where I’m from, that I spend some time in when I’m there, but this one is probably double the size.”

You smiled when you glanced over to see him taking everything in, but you then went back to your search. “The Jedi Archives can definitely be overwhelming if you don’t know where you’re looking.”

As you walked, you got to talking, as much as you could without disturbing the others there. He was kind, funny, not at all what you were expecting, but you weren't complaining. You learned he was a commander of his battalion; you didn't really know what all that entailed but you knew it was important. You had stolen a few glances at him as he spoke, there definitely was something that stood out about him that you couldn't really place, but talking to him did seem to alleviate the intimidation you felt.

There were at least fifteen books on the cart by the time you got through the list, and two that were missing, after a quick search, you figured out they had already been taken out.

"Well, I'm sure this will tide him over for now." The clone said as you brought him over to the desk.

You logged each of the books into the computer, then looked over at him.

"Will Master Kenobi be the one returning these? I just need to put the order under someone's name."

"You can put it under my name. Cody, or CC-2224, whichever you need." 

"Cody's fine." You told him. "As for the other two books, I can bring them to you when they're returned."

"Sure, that would be helpful, thank you." 

You nodded at him and finished inputting all the information, "You're all set."

"Perfect." He picked up all the holos, then looked at you again, "Thanks again, for all your help, uh-"

You told him your name and gave him a smile. "I guess I'll see you soon, then."

He nodded then walked toward the exit as you returned to the shelf you had been working on. 

Jocasta strolled over to you after you had returned to your pile of books.

"Did he find everything Obi-Wan was looking for?"

"Almost, there were a couple books that had been borrowed already, but I'll deliver them to him when they're back."

"Odd that Obi-Wan wouldn't have come himself." 

"I thought the same, but I guess he must be pretty busy right now."

She nodded, "I suppose you're right. All the same, it’s rare to see any of the clones visit us, I’ve never seen Commander Cody here before, I wonder if we'll be seeing him more." You noticed Jocasta had a somewhat amused look on her face, but you ignored it.

She began walking away after that, and you looked toward her for a moment, then returned your gaze back to the books thinking about what she said. He did say he’d like to fix his absence here, and it wouldn't be such a bad thing if he decided to visit more, you thought to yourself with a smile.

But of course, that wasn't the case, much to your disappointment. The remaining holobooks arrived back in the Archive Room a few days after his initial visit, but when you had asked one of the Jedi where you might find Obi-Wan or Cody, you learned they were currently off-world and weren’t likely to return any time soon. You decided to put the two books back on the shelf, but secretly hoped you would hear of their return before anyone else could take them out.

The next few weeks, you found you were often on your toes. Watching each patron as they entered the Archive Room. If you took a break, you found yourself observing any clones you saw, checking if any of them were Cody. Your defence was only that you wanted to make sure he received his books, but there was a part of you that just wanted to see him again. 

It wasn’t until around another month later that Jocasta approached you when you arrived for work in the morning.

“I have just received word that Master Kenobi and his clone troopers have arrived on Coruscant.” 

All of your energy was spent on not allowing your face to light up. “That’s great news.”

“Yes, and I believe those holobooks he asked for have been back for some time, would you mind delivering them? Normally I would just have a droid do it, but I’m afraid they have their scheduled maintenance this morning.”

There was some kind of expression on her face that you couldn’t place. It almost looked mischievous. Like she knew too much. But you ignored it and nodded at her request. “Of course, I’ll go find them now.”

You put your small rucksack in a secure space and pulled the holobooks that had long been requested from the shelf, setting out to deliver them.

In truth, you didn't fully know where you were going. The temple wasn’t unfamiliar to you, but there was still much you had never seen, and you didn’t know where Obi-Wan or Cody would be if they weren’t on a mission. You knew the Jedi Council Room would have been off-limits to you, but you figured it was a good place to at least look for Obi-Wan. 

As luck would have it, as soon as you neared the Council Room, you saw Obi-Wan exiting followed by a few of the other Jedi. You quickened your pace to try and catch them.

"Excuse me, Master Kenobi?" You called out, getting his attention.

He and the others paused so you could catch up. 

"What can I do for you?" He asked.

"I have the last two holobooks you had asked for."

He raised an eyebrow, "Cody brought me all the books I requested some time ago."

You were equally confused, "But he... the list he brought me had two books on it that we didn't have available."

You looked at the two holos in your hands then spoke again, "Well, maybe I was mistaken. I'm sorry to bother you." 

"It's no bother," He said, "Though I'd hate to think you were waiting all this time to deliver those books only to bring them back. Why don't we go find Cody and we'll sort this out?"

You thought about protesting, but eventually agreed. 

Obi-Wan excused himself from the other Jedi, and the two of you began to walk toward one of the briefing rooms.

In the distance, you spotted what you recognized to be Cody's armour walking into one of the side rooms.

Something churned in your stomach, nerves? You didn't consider yourself to be a nervous person, but for some reason the idea of seeing Cody again left you with butterflies. 

Obi-Wan typed something into the keypad next to the door and it opened, he took a step in and gestured for you to follow.

"Commander Cody, I believe our friend has something of yours."

He stood at the projector table in the middle of the room, looking at Obi-Wan then glancing at you.

"I have those last two holobooks you requested." You said with as much of a smile as you could muster through the confusion.

His eyes widened slightly, realizing you must have already tried giving them to Obi-Wan. "May I speak with you? Outside?"

You heard Obi-Wan chuckle beside you as Cody practically dragged you out of the room.

"So, these aren't for Master Kenobi?" You asked, already knowing the answer.

"Well, no." He answered, bringing his hand up to rest on the back of his neck.

"So why did you tell me they were?" You weren't angry, you honestly just wanted to know what was going on.

His relief showed when he realized you weren't upset.

"It's... kind of an interesting story."

You raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.

"I originally had only intended to get the books that General Kenobi requested, but when I spoke to Mistress Nu, she suggested I ask for these books too, to be honest, I've already read them."

Your eyebrows furrowed; his explanation left you with even more confusion.

"Why would Jocasta suggest books she knew were checked out?"

His tone lowered as if he was worried what he said next was going to offend you, "From what she told me, she thought it'd be a chance for you to talk to someone other than her and the other Jedi. And she figured you'd deliver them yourself, so it gets you out of the Archive Room for a bit." He paused, waiting for you to answer, when you didn't, he continued. "You can ask her, but I wouldn't lie to you."

"N-No I believe you. That's the worst part." You could feel yourself blushing slightly. Jocasta had set you up, and suddenly all her amused and mischievous glances made sense. She had done this only once before and it never got this far, so you assumed this was her telling you that she wanted you to branch out, or to put it more bluntly – to get a life. You sighed quietly.

"Well, I'm sorry she dragged you into this. I won't bother you again." You began to walk away, feeling completely embarrassed. 

"Wait, I... wasn't finished."

You stopped and looked back at him.

"It's just, well, she thought we should get to know each other so, maybe we could. Do you have any plans this evening?"

"After I'm finished here, I usually just go right home."

"I have some free time later, the boys and I usually go out for a few drinks in our off time, you could come with us if you'd like."

You could swear you could see the tips of his ears turn pink.

"Sure, that sounds fun." You smiled.

"Great, it's a date. Why don’t you meet me out front when you’re done here, we’ll go together."

Now it was your turn to blush again. You muttered a quiet "okay" before turning and heading back to the Archive Room, ready to give Jocasta an earful.

Jocasta didn’t apologize for any of her scheming when you came back to the Archive Room. She knew the jig was up, but all she did was smile and say “Is it really that bad?”

But you made sure to inform her just how embarrassing it was to go through all that.

“I’m sorry I embarrassed you,” She began, “But really, Commander Cody is such a catch, and I knew the two of you would be fine with getting to know one another. Jedi intuition.”

She seemed overjoyed at the fact that you had agreed to meet Cody for drinks after work, and she told you that you could leave early and start the next day as late as you needed to.

You rolled your eyes, and smiled at her. As embarrassing as it was, it had been a long time since you had been on a date, or even seen a friend. She was just as excited as you were.

Later that day, you had finished up your work and headed out. You were feeling nervous now that the time had come, and you considered bailing all together, but Jocasta absolutely would not have let you stay longer than your designated end time. 

You took a deep breath and walked out of the Archive Room, and then left the temple. The sun was just beginning to set, the air was clean and cool, and speeders flew past in the sky lanes, full of people who were in a hurry to get home. You waited out by one of the statues at the bottom of the stairs near the landing port, fighting the urge to look for Cody. Although, you didn’t even need to wait for him at all, soon enough you could hear footsteps approaching you.

“I hope Mistress Nu didn’t have to force you to leave.” He said, smiling at you.

“Only a little.” You returned the smile. 

“Thanks again, for agreeing to come out tonight, I think it’ll be a good time.”

“Thank you for inviting me. I’m sorry again for what Jocasta did… I never would have thought that-“

“You don’t need to apologize, I promise.” He reassured you. “Now, shall we get going?”

You nodded and followed him to the landing port and waited as he hailed a taxi.

When you both sat down in the cab, Cody advised the droid driver that you were going to 79’s and it piqued your interest.

“I don’t think I’ve heard of that place before.” You told him.

“Not surprising, it’s a clone bar.” He saw your eyes widen slightly and he laughed, “Don’t worry, you’re not intruding, lots of folks go there.”

The drive was silent. You felt yourself becoming more nervous, now that you were en route, and when you looked over at Cody, he almost looked nervous too. 

Soon enough, you had arrived. Cody got out first and held the door for you as you joined him.

There were clusters of men all around the outside of the bar, some in armour, some in Republic uniforms, but all clones. They looked quizzically at you and Cody before returning to their conversations.

“See? No one minds you being here.”

He smiled at you once more then guided you into the club, keeping his hand hovering over your back ever so slightly, just enough to guide you through the crowds and guide you to his usual table.

There were three men already seated at the table Cody led you to, all wearing blue and white armour. 

“Who’s this?” One of them asked when you approached. He had a tattoo of a number five on his temple.

Cody told them your name, “She’s a friend of mine. Works at the Temple.”

“A friend of yours?” Another asked quizzically with a smirk on his face, he had a blue handprint on his armour. 

Cody rolled his eyes. “Anyway…” He gestured to the first one that spoke, “This is Fives,” His hand continued to the one with the handprint, “Echo,” he finished at the third one who hadn’t spoken, he had blond hair that was shaved nearly to the scalp. “And Captain Rex.”

“Nice to meet you all,” you told them with a smile, they smiled back. 

“I’m going to go get a drink,” Cody announced, then looked at the others sternly, “Be nice.”

You weren’t sure what he meant by that, but the moment he turned his back, Fives and Echo leaned forward in perfect unison, you had a vague understanding.

“So, you're friends with the commander, are you?” Fives asked, now adopting a smirk of his own.

“I mean, I guess so.” You replied, “I haven’t really known him that long.”

“Well then you must know he has never brought a girl here before.” Echo stated.

“No, I didn’t know that… is that important?”

You were back to questioning if you should be here at all.

“Who knows? It might be.” Fives shrugged. But before either of them could say anything else, Rex had chimed in.

“Boys, enough. Cody wouldn’t be impressed if you two scared his friend away.” He turned to you, “Sorry about them, they don’t know how to mind their own business.”

You laughed quietly, “Oh, it was really no problem.”

“You work at the temple? Are you a Jedi?” Rex asked.

“No, I just work under Jocasta Nu in the Archive Room. That’s where I met Cody.” 

Before either of them could continue to grill you, Cody returned with a drink on each hand and set one down in front of you before climbing into the booth next to you.

“I didn’t know what you’d like, so this is just the special tonight.”

“Thank you, but you didn’t have to get me a drink.”

He shrugged and smiled at you, “I figured if these two have already begun to ask you questions, alcohol was needed.”

You took a sip of the colourful drink in front of you, it was sweet and fruity, if you didn’t know better, you wouldn’t have even known it was alcoholic. 

As the night went on, you got to know the others a bit better. The questions they had for you didn’t seem to go away, but you at least got a few in to ask them. 

Fives and Echo played off each other, they seemed mischievous, but you could tell by how they spoke about being in the 501st, they were proud and incredibly serious when it came to their duty.

Rex was kind, he seemed more straight-laced than the others, even more than Cody, despite what he had said of the chaos his general liked to unleash. You didn’t know Anakin Skywalker well, but you had a hard time believing that someone trained by Master Kenobi could be so rambunctious.

Before you knew it, it had gotten to be later than you intended to stay out. Your vision blurred slightly and you could feel your head buzzing, both attributed to the number of glasses in front of you.

You let out an involuntary yawn. “I’m sorry, guys, I should probably be getting home. It’s late and I have to work tomorrow, but it was nice meeting you.”

“Likewise,” Rex told you with a smile.

“I hope we’ll be seeing you here again soon,” Echo told you, and you didn’t notice his glance shift to Cody.

Cody got out of the booth, and helped you out, holding you steady as you wobbled finding your feet.

“I should help you get home.” Cody suggested.

“No, it’s okay, you stay here and have fun.” You protested.

“I’d feel much more comfortable knowing you got home safely.”

You knew it was pointless to argue further, so you reluctantly agreed. He waved to his brothers and offered you his arm as he led you out of the building. 

When you got outside, you breathed deeply, letting the cool nighttime air wash over you before walking toward the landing port to hail a cab. 

“They really liked you.” Cody told you, breaking the silence. 

“They seem fun, I liked them too.” You smiled up at him. “Thank you for inviting me.” 

“Of course, I hope it helps Mistress Nu get off your case a bit.”

“I have a feeling I still won’t hear the end of it from her. I’ll have to tell her all about it tomorrow, and I’m sure the second I do, she’ll be asking when the next date is.”

Cody raised an eyebrow and smiled slightly. “Will there be a next one?”

Before you could answer, the cab pulled up to the port and Cody helped you inside, before climbing in beside you. Once you told the droid your address, you were silent for the entire trip.

He didn’t force an answer from you, but your silence was worrying him that he crossed a line. 

You watched out the window as the cab made its way toward your apartment complex. You weren’t far from the bar, but far enough that you would have likely been uncomfortable getting home alone at this hour. 

When the cab stopped, you handed a few credits to the driver before getting out with Cody in tow. 

“Can I walk you to your door?” He asked carefully once you were outside, not wanting to come across as overbearing.

“I’d like that.” You nodded. His relief was imperceptible, and he offered you his arm once again to help with your balance.

The turbolift up to your floor was silent, and whenever you were about to say something, to answer his earlier question, another person got on or off. You noticed a few of them even refused to get on the elevator once they noticed the clone that accompanied you. You knew from when you moved in that some of your neighbours were a bit sketchy, but having Cody with you definitely made you feel a bit safer around the shadier ones. 

Finally, you arrived at your floor, and with a short walk from the lift, you were at your door. You inhaled when you started typing in the code to your keypad lock, and then turned to Cody.

“I’d like there to be a next one.” You blurted out.

“What?” He asked, not sure he heard you right.

“A second date. If you want. I’d like to see you again.”

He gave you a genuine smile, once again feeling relieved. “I would like that a lot.” 

“Okay good.” You felt yourself blush, “It would have been really embarrassing if you didn’t.”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to. Maybe next time it’ll just be me and you, would that be alright?”

You smiled at him and leaned in, standing on your toes slightly to kiss his cheek. “I’d like that.” 

His eyes widened slightly for a moment at the contact before he relaxed. “Great. I’ll come see you in the Archives soon, we can figure something out then. For now, you should get some rest.”

You nodded, “Thank you again for a great night.” When he nodded in response, you entered your unit before closing the door behind you. 

For once, you were thankful for Jocasta’s meddling. Maybe it wasn’t really her business, but you knew she did so out of kindness, and this time it actually paid off.

[ireadwithmyears]

Looking Out for You: Part 3

Pairing: Commander Fox/fem reader

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

Tagging: @tazmbc1

Word count: 4.7 K

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

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

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

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

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

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*

Come on, Via, hurry up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*

“Do we have a problem here?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Right, he thinks. Time to fix that. 

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

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

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

*

“Mandy.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*

“Are you good from here?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I…forgive me, Commander.”

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

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

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

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

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