#where the datapad go? even I can’t answer that

[chiliger]

The meta implications in this one are wild.

[motherroam-rs]

Unattached

Fives x Fem!Reader

NSFW Ahead Minors DNI 18+!!!

A/N: To all the girls who wish they lost their virginity to a clone trooper - this one’s for us.

Tags/Warnings: Loss of virginity, Best Friends to Lovers, Alcohol, Gambling, Lil bit of angst, Fluff, Smut, Oral Sex (F! Receiving), Vaginal Fingering, Slow burn (technically), Love Confessions, Happy Ending!!

Summary: Since the moment you were transferred to the 501’st as a Civ Medic you and Fives gravitated towards each other and over many months of friendship you can’t help but slowly fall for the charming ARC Trooper. The tension only increases when he finds out just how inexperienced you are.

Word Count: 9.8k

(For clarification, the italics are flashbacks)

The data pad read ‘Order for Civilian Medic Transfer’, which is really just a nicer way of saying ‘You can’t do anything about this, so just accept it and suffer’. 

You had no choice when you were inevitably rotated between legions, untethered. Your newest order was to the 501st, and you find yourself standing in an empty Medbay; it’s quiet. Too quiet. You’ve either been fortunately assigned to a legion that didn’t see much action, if that were even possible, or you were stood in the eye of a hurricane.

Your eyes are caught on the tattoo across the scalp of the head medic, ‘A good droid is a dead one’ and you suppress a smile at the sentiment. It’s why you were needed - clones weren’t fond of droids, even those programmed for medical purposes. 

“New?” The clone asks, eyes focused on a datapad. You weren’t, not by any means, you had been rotated countless times over the duration of the clone wars. But, you already begin preparing yourself for the usual gruff demeanour that often greeted you, although you were better than a droid, to many clones you were still just a ‘Civ’, despite the many sleepless nights of studying and GAR medical training. 

“No, sir, transferred from the 104th.” You keep your words short, formal, but the clone medic’s eyes light up in recognition.

“Under Commander Wolffe?” He asks, a hint of surprise in his tone as he actually looks away from the datapad.

“Briefly,” you admit, recalling how just a few days before the commander in question practically growled at you when you had to check his eye. You lasted a week there.  “I was with the 212th before that.”

The head medic eyes you with a curious look, waiting for you to elaborate, so you continued, “Typically Civ medics are just seen as temporary by the head medic, until a clone medic becomes available.” You explain, perhaps a bit too fast. How many times could you fit the word medic in that sentence? You internally groan, but he gives a small hum of acknowledgement, whether it was in agreement or disagreement of your statement, his face didn’t betray him either way. 

“Go get yourself settled, and then report back here in an hour.” He says with a slight sigh, passing you the datapad, a blinking spot on the screen indicating where your bunk is - at least this time you weren’t in the shared barracks. “We’ve only just got back from being planetside on Coruscant for a week.” Ah, that answers the question of why it had been so quiet then.

“Thank you, sir.” You nod, picking up your small pack of personal belongings, it wasn’t much, but it was the only anchor you had when you were transferred around so often.

“Kix is fine.” He nods, giving you a genuine smile. “Welcome to the 501st.”

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The small room is thrumming with energy that’s been ignited from an evening of drinking following a particularly rough mission for the men. Contraband in the form of amber liquid that burns your throat and fuels bad decisions, is grouped together on a small crate you’ve been using as a makeshift table for the evening. 

You’re currently sitting on the floor, leaning against a crate next to Fives as he divulges details to you about their most recent mission. Details that you probably aren’t supposed to know, but he tells you anyways, because ‘what are friends for if not to impress’, he had once told you with a sly wink. 

You knew most of the other Civ workers in the GAR weren’t as close to the clones they served with as you were. In all of the legions you had been bounced around from, there was a clear divide between the small number of Civ members, compared to the clones. But in the 501’st, those theoretical lines were blurred, or probably didn’t exist at all, with how Fives’s arm settled around your shoulder. He always had been the most friendly out of his brothers.

Your attention is drawn away from the warm expression of your friend, and you groan as you catch Jesse and Hardcase standing side by side, comparing their lengths. 

“Put it away, for the last time they’re all the same size!” You call out with a laugh, making Fives frown and whip around as he’s been interrupted from your conversation.

“Know from experience with clones?” Jesse sends you a drunken wink as his hands sloppily stuffs the offending body part back into his blacks.

“Medical experience with clones.” Your face almost hurts from smiling as you shake your head, before turning back to Fives. It’s faint and fleeting, but a look of annoyance crosses his features. You’re not awarded the opportunity to ask about it though, because he’s already delving into another over-exaggerated story of how he took out a whole group of droids on his own. 

You wouldn’t really care if they all weren’t true, you just enjoyed hearing him talk. The man could make even the most boring senate conversations interesting, you’re sure of it. So you smile, hooked onto each of his words, cursing the way your heart beats too fast when he reaches out to push away some hair that's fallen from the usual tight bun you have to wear it in. His fingers graze the skin of your cheek, leaving a burning trail.

It’s a small gesture that doesn’t even break the rhythm of his conversation. The touches are natural, instinctive on his part. He’s always touching you - you know to him it means nothing more than that, but your tell-tale racing heart screams at you that you wish it did.

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Once you had returned from being settled in, Kix had directed you to some neatly stacked crates containing new medical supplies to restock the old ones. Your sluggish movements remind you just how little sleep you’d managed on the transport here from the 104th, your body was still aching from the hours spent laying on the durasteel floor between containers of explosives. Not the best sleep you’ve had, and surprisingly not the worst.

“Hey Kix, can you tell me if this looks infected?” A voice pulls you from your thoughts, alerting you to the attention of a topless clone trooper, something that no longer phased you given how many entirely naked clones you had treated. Upon seeing you, the clone goes from being relaxed to formal instantly, clearing his throat as he fumbled to get the top half of his blacks on. 

“You,” he clears his throat, his voice now adopting the typical ‘trooper at attention’ tone as he pulls the clothing over his head, “Are not Kix.” His top blacks are on backwards, and he runs a finger along the collar which now presses uncomfortably to his flushed neck.

“No, I’m not.” You agree with him, suppressing a small smile at how he looks caught off guard, from his surprised expression you may as well be a battle droid standing in the medical bay.

“May I?” You gesture to his top, and he reluctantly removes it once more, taking a seat on a free bed. You see his issue, a common rash splaying across his shoulders from where his armour has been rubbing his skin through his blacks.

“You’re the new medic?” He sounds more nervous than you are, his jaw tensing when you run your fingers along the rash, checking for any signs of infection.

You give a small hum, confirming he’s correct as you step away. “And you are?”

“Echo. I, uh.. Wasn’t expecting a Civ?” They never do.

“Not infected, by the way, it’s just irritated.” You seek out a steroid cream, which you conveniently just restocked. “Here, use this twice a day, and keep the area as dry as possible.”

He gives you a short, formal nod before he redresses, correctly this time, and leaves the room with his face almost as red as his rash. 

You’ve moved onto another crate when you catch the movement from the corner of your eye, somebody passing the door to the Medbay. You think nothing of it until you see the figure again, this time he slows slightly to glance inside the room.

He walks past a third time - and then a fourth.

On what would be the fifth time you poke your head out slightly to watch him walk almost to the end of the hallway, just to turn around and begin his lap back past the door. He stops in his tracks when he sees you looking curiously at him, but quickly recovers even though he’s been caught, and strides back towards you. You catch a glimpse of a tattoo on his temple, but it’s his grin, framed by neatly trimmed facial hair, that seems to distinguish him from other clone troopers you’ve come across. It’s cocky, confident, and warm. Especially warm when he takes hold of your hand and presses it to his lips in a greeting that makes it feel as though you’re trapped in a boiler room, overheating.

“I’m Fives, and you are?”

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You were settled between Echo and Fives, the three of you with empty cups waiting for the next round of the game. Each round you had to take a shot based on your answer to the question, which so far had ranged between ‘If you’ve been shot by a droid’ - which Rex groaned at, and ‘If you ever fucked a girl in the 79’s fresher’, which made several of the men cheer. 

Your heart sinks a bit when Fives drinks at that one, recalling the night just over a month ago on Coruscant. 

You had all been there together, his arm slung around your shoulder in the booth as you both laughed at some fleeting joke made by Jesse. You had grown closer, close enough to the point that he got teased relentlessly by his brothers for calling you his ‘best friend’ whilst under the influence of some strong pain medication in the Medbay. 

You left to get some more drinks from the bar when Sinker approached you, a spark of recognition in his eyes. You were trying to focus on ordering the drinks, blushing as you attempted to turn down the Sergeant who was whispering over-sweetened things in your ear at how he wished you’d stayed with the 104th for longer.

You smiled in thanks when Echo came to help, claiming he saw that you may need help with carrying the drinks. You were grateful for the assistance, laughing with Echo under the usual volume of the crowd until you caught sight of your best friend, stumbling through the crowd towards the fresher, his hand intertwined with a beautiful Twi’lek girl.

You remember how Echo looked at you as he realised the reason behind your tightened jaw and hoarse voice when you excused yourself for some air. You couldn’t stand the sympathy in his eyes, the eyes that looked identical to those of your best friend, the man you were in love with. 

So much for being unattached.

“It wasn’t that good.” Fives nudges your knee with his own, pulling you from your thoughts. A casual smirk plays on his lips and you’re about to laugh off the comment, ready to deflect the attention from your friend, when his twin interrupts you.

“Yeah, cause you couldn’t get it up!” Echo slurs as he leans against you, clutching his cup as some of the amber liquid sloshes down your chest before he apologises and wipes the stain above your breast with hazy eyes. Fives catches his brother's wrist, pushing it away from your chest lightly, and your mind races at Echo’s statement - Fives hadn’t slept with the Twi’Lek girl?

“Shut up, Vod.” Fives grumbles, his fingers tightening around his own cup as he looks away from the two of you. A blush, that must just be from a mix of alcohol and annoyance, creeps up to his face. Thankfully as most of these questions have been related to battle or women, you’ve barely drank, so you can at least try to be rational and push away thoughts that creep into your mind of how you think Fives would take you against the wall of a fresher stall. You can ignore the contemplation on if he would show restraint, or if he would make the walls shake.

“How about this - take a shot for how many people you’ve slept with,” Jesse calls out to the small group of you, an intoxicated grin on his face. Several hands reach for the last remaining bottle at once, ready to fill their cups, each of their owners immediately wanting to show off to the rest of the room's occupants.

“No!” Kix’s hand is the fastest to snatch the liquor away, holding it close to his chest plate.  “We are not looking after you all in the Medbay with alcohol poisoning!” He gestures between you both, and Jesse bargains, coming to a compromise for 1 shot for every certain number, but the specifics of the round are drowned out by your own heartbeat.

Your body stills and you look down to your half full cup. It would be easy to drink, to lie to yourself and those around you. You don’t even have to drink more than once and yet you just continue to stare at your reflection in the liquid, it’s as if the cup were judging you.

“You know you’re supposed to at least drink once, right?” Fives whispers in your ear.

“Yeah, just got distracted trying to work out which of your brothers are definitely exaggerating,” You nod, taking a sip from the cup as you avoid his eyes that burn you more than any liquor ever could. You place the empty cup at your feet and lean your head against Echos, managing a small smile at how he’s snoring against your shoulder. 

Fives gives a small hum of thought, finishing his own drink before placing the empty cup next to you, allowing his finger to linger on the rim for a moment. Your gaze is focused on the way the traces of liquor coat his fingertips, making the battle-calloused skin glisten. You close your eyes, trying to fend off the thoughts of how the whiskey tainted fingers would taste on your tongue, and the mental image of them coated in something sweeter than the alcohol.

“Remember the first time I dragged you here?” Fives’ amused tone forces your eyes open, his warm hand settling on your knee and he taps his fingers rhythmically, almost to the same beat as your unsteady heart.

It had been just over one standard month, one of your longest posts so far, and you were already finding yourself anxious that you could be transferred away at any moment. If you had told yourself just over a month ago that in your new assignment with the 501st that you would wake to two half-drunk troopers in your room, begging you to come play Sabbac with them, you would have diagnosed them with battle induced psychosis.

“Well, not with us-” Fives starts, rummaging around the small closet for something you could wear over your sleeping vest.

“For us.” Echo finishes, practically pulling you out of your bed with an eager nod as Fives approaches you with something in his hands.

“Hands up, sweetheart.” In your tired state, you obey thoughtlessly, allowing Fives to slip the sweatshirt over your head. His fingers trail down your sides, eliciting goosebumps across your skin as he pulls the heavy fabric down over you, and between the contact and his name for you, your heart skips a beat. It nearly stops when he winks before turning away to get your shoes.

Clone Troopers were often flirty, but over the last month, Fives seemed determined to earn the title of being the biggest flirt. Regardless which of his brothers got sick or minorly injured, he was always the one pulling them through the door and would then spend the entire time sweet talking you. Just last week, Rex had nearly concussed himself on a pipe and looked like he wanted to hit Fives who didn’t stop talking the whole time you examined the injury.

“And why do you need me to play for you? I’ve never even played before,” You swallow thickly, sliding your feet into the shoes as the twins guide you from your room, both of their hands on your back, ushering you down complex hallways that all look identical.

“Fives got caught cheating, so we both got banned,” Echo rolls his eyes, placing the blame on his brother, who begins telling you the rules of the game, which they are playing a slight variation of given that they only had items to bet, not credits. You had reluctantly allowed them to bring a full bottle of rather expensive vodka you had purchased last time you were on Coruscant.

“You did not wake up the new medic just to get her to play for you.” Jesse groans, and Rex begins apologising to you for his brothers, ready to scold them for waking you up, but you raise your hand to stop him.

“It’s no bother.” You shake your head, remembering Fives and Echo’s advice to act confident - so really you just had to ask yourself ‘What would Fives do?’

“You know how to play?” Kix asks, surprised by your sudden change in demeanour. He had been used to you keeping your head down in the Medbay, following orders, not showing up with a bottle of alcohol to bet on and Fives’s arm slung around your shoulder.

“Oh please, I’ve been playing Sabbac longer than some of you have been out of the tube.” You feel Fives give your shoulder a proud squeeze at your lie as he places the bottle of vodka on the makeshift table, and you both take a seat, “Deal me in?”

After several rounds of you finding your feet in the game, Fives drops his hand to your waist, giving it a squeeze - he’s signalling to go in for the kill. You turn your head slightly to look into his eyes, and he gives a slight nod that doesn’t go unnoticed by your opponents, he’s making it look so sure you’re going to win, but in reality your cards weren’t good. 

 You and Rex were down to the last cards, everyone else had folded. Either of you could have the winning hand, but if one of you backed out now before your cards were revealed, you could at least keep your own stake in the game. It was about the bluffing now, and thankfully you were good at that.

“Well, Captain?” You and Fives lean backward in sync. You press the cards to your chest, hiding how they’re on the verge of shaking from Fives’ grip on your waist, but also to hide your tell. It’s a small, barely noticeable movement, your forefinger running along the edge of your thumbnail -  a nervous movement that Rex hasn’t noticed past your arrogant smile that perfectly mirrors Fives’. “What’ll it be?”

There’s a short beat where the room is silent and you hold the gaze of the Captain, all of the others staring between you both like it’s an intense standoff. He looks away first, tossing the cards down with a huff as he backs out, giving the win to you; he actually had a good hand. 

“Oh and by the way, sir,” You lay your cards down, revealing that you had already gone bust, over the number limit to win. “I’ve never played Sabbac in my life.” You grin at the shocked expression on his face that melts into a warm smile and you’re enveloped into a hug from Fives while Echo reaps your winnings from the table.

After you all decide to have a drink from the bottle you bet with, the tiredness catches up to you, and you struggle to stay alert with the alcohol that casts a haze on your mind. 

“C’mon, I’ll take you back.” Fives nudges you, picking up the half-full bottle of vodka as he pulls you to your feet, shaking his head in amusement when he tugs a bit too hard and you fall into his chest. “Already falling for me, sweetheart?” his voice is low, something that can only be heard between the two of you in the room full of his boisterous brothers.

You roll your eyes in amusement, a defence against how the whisper makes heat spread throughout your body. You take a half step back, placing the empty cup on the crate as you exchange a short goodbye with Echo.

“I’m gonna walk our lovely medic here back to her room, I’ll be back soon,” Fives gives a mock salute as you both make your exit and you try to ignore the whistle from one of the men as Fives chuckles, shaking his head. “Animals aren’t they, Mesh’la?”

You hadn’t known this side to any of the clones you’d served with, albeit you were just a medic, none of them had ever been this relaxed around you. The entire time you had been in the GAR, it had been lonely. There was no one to celebrate with after battle, no late night conversations between friends, no one to just sit with and cry when you weren’t able to save a life. But walking through the corridors with Fives somehow made it all worth it.

“You did great, sweetheart, I’m impressed.” Fives brings the bottle to his lips, taking a swig of the clear liquid as you stop outside of your door. “You’re just full of surprises aren’t you?” His tongue darts out to lick the vodka off his lips and you can’t help but let your eyes linger there after the action. His gaze is already meeting yours when you look up, heat flickering in his eyes like the flame of a candle - he’s caught you staring.

Fives’ hand comes up to hold your waist once more, his grip tighter now, drawing you closer like you were a flower he wanted to admire. The scent of vodka from his breath intoxicates you, and you find yourself hypnotised, leaning closer. You don’t know what causes it, but at the last moment he freezes, his hand falling from your waist to press the panel outside your door, opening it.

“Goodnight.” He gives a tight-lipped smile before stepping away, walking back down the corridor in the direction of the barracks. Despite the heavy sweatshirt and warmth of the vodka in your blood, you feel empty as you enter your dark room. You find yourself lying awake in your bunk as you work through a mixture of disappointment, embarrassment, and something that ignites an ache between your thighs. 

He stopped himself from kissing you, and you didn’t know why.

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You know your way back, he doesn’t need to walk you, yet he always does. It’s been almost 8 standard months since you were transferred to the 501st, you could practically navigate your way around blindfolded. So, you know you're about to turn onto the corridor your room is on when he speaks.

“You didn’t drink.” 

Your mouth goes dry, it’s like you’ve just eaten a whole pack of ration crackers while sitting in the Tatooine desert with no water. The lights above feel harsher, as if you’re under a spotlight on the Medbay examination table, and Fives is the one inspecting you. He’s peering at you from the corner of your vision, gauging your reaction to his statement. 

“What are you talking about, Fives?” You shrug in an attempt to appear nonchalant, but unfortunately due to his metabolism he was as sober as you, meaning he was just as observant. You couldn’t brush off his attention when he places a hand on your shoulder, stopping you in your place just as you round a corner. From here you can see the door to your room, the third from the end. It’s taunting you at how close you were to getting away with the secret you’d been keeping against your chest.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” His free hand grasps your chin between his thumb and forefinger, directing your attention to him. You swallow as he draws your face closer, eyes raking over your features as he gives a small shake of his head. “You didn’t drink.”

“Yes I did.” Your voice is impressively steady, you’re good at bluffing. Fives already knows this, but he knows you better, and his eyes dart down in search of something. Your fingertip presses against the edge of your thumb in a movement that Fives had catalogued in his brain since that day you beat Rex at Sabbac.

The credit drops. You can see the moment it registers in Fives’ brain as his jaw goes slack, his grip on your chin loosening.

“Are you a- mph!” Your hand covers his mouth and you push him to the wall before he can shout aloud what you’ve kept unsaid for your whole time in the GAR. Fives was an ARC trooper, he could easily push you away, but his muscles seem to weaken against your grip. You feel the resistance in his body melt under your touch, as his eyes soften just above where your hand covers his mouth.

“I know you’re a loud mouth but please,” Your voice is low, urgent, as you give him a warning look, your face burning from embarrassment as he’s just come to the realisation of why you didn’t drink. You didn’t have any number to drink for. You can see him linking it together in his head - why you turned down flirtatious advances from his brothers, why he walked you back alone after every late night. It was why your body was so responsive to every small touch and honeyed word from his lips; like a flower chasing fleeting sunlight in the late afternoon. “Just this once, Fives, keep your voice down.” 

Fives gives a short nod down at you, assuring you he’ll be quiet. His fingers loop around your wrist, tugging your hand from his mouth. You unsuccessfully try to ignore the way his lips had felt against your skin, you’re so caught on the small patch of wetness on your palm that you miss the clench of his jaw and flash of emotions in his eyes.

“You’ve really never..?” He trails off, the words settling into the small gap between you, they’re not taunting or teasing, they’re simply disbelieving. Even though he’s released your wrist now, it’s still suspended in the air, as if you’ve been frozen in carbonite. You’re afraid to move away, that it would be just like all those months ago, that the moment would be shattered and lost.

Your breaths are mingling together, you’re like an asteroid orbiting, drawing closer and closer to his planet, bracing for impact. Fives is unblinking, waiting for the answer he already knows, but needs to hear for himself. 

“No.” 

Something stirs in the depths of Fives’ eyes and there’s a tension you could almost reach out and grasp from the air. Your body acts on its own, hand breaking free from its frozen stupor to find interest in a small scar on his jaw. You remember treating the small cut, he never even flinched, but you had let him hold your hand anyways. ‘It’s for comfort’, Fives had told you, accompanied by the usual sly wink that made it all the more difficult for your free hand to remain steady when you cleaned the cut.

Fives’ eyes slip closed when your fingertips graze against the shining scar, his breathing becoming carefully controlled. You recognise the pattern, it’s the same pace it was during the times he would take you to the training rooms, his body pressed to yours as he taught you to shoot. He would chuckle into your ear when your hands would shake, causing you to miss.

Your hands are steady now, no signs of the trembling are evident when you raise your attention higher. Your finger traces its way over the inky ‘5’ on his temple, and you’re about to move it away but you find yourself held in place, fingers still pressed against the tattoo.

Fives’ constant touches were always casual, fleeting, and meaningless. But this? This was deliberate. 

His gloved hand is circled around the bare skin of your wrist once more, keeping your fingers pressed against his temple. After a short, breathless moment, he moves your hand, but not to push it away this time. He pulls it closer, making your fingers trace across his cheekbone, against his warm skin all the way on a deliberate path to his mouth. 

Fives’ lips ghost across your fingertips and in contrast to his rough exterior and battle scarred skin, they’re soft. Just above the point of your fixation is his heavy stare, focused and serious, like you’re his target in the heat of battle.

Your heart is thrumming against your ribcage like blaster fire and you wonder if he can feel the pulse in your wrist through his gloves at the sheer force of it. There’s barely any space between the two of you, and it only lessens with every beat of your heart.

“Just… stay still for a second, please,” Fives’ eyes burn into yours and he’s like a black hole orbiting you, pulling you in with his gravity. “Can you do that for me, sweetheart?” His voice is a strained whisper, just cosmic background noise, all you can focus on is how his breath fans across your lips. 

His eyes close again when you nod, and you allow yourself to slip away into the same darkness as he consumes all of your senses.

The touch is light, a soft brush of his lips against your own, and the gentle contact has a shiver running through your body. His hand has placed your palm back to his jaw, covering it with his own as he pulls you in deeper. The second kiss is more confident, the swipe of his tongue over your lower lip has the world around you dissolving into a meaningless void as he becomes the centre of your universe. 

Before you can part your lips for him, Fives pulls away, just enough so he can look at you. There’s a dazed expression on his face, like he’s been concussed but is strangely happy about it. The momentary bewilderment melts away into an unusually shy smile and he’s about to kiss you again when you’re interrupted. There's laughter echoing from the direction you just came and Fives pulls back further, a suddenly serious look taking over his face.

You’re filled with a strange sense of deja vu when he steps away, your heart already sinking. Before you can open your mouth to apologise for getting carried away, to try and repair whatever strain the kiss could have put on your friendship, you’re being pulled along by his gentle grasp. Fives is making urgent paces down the short walk to your door, slamming his free hand to the control panel to get you both away from whatever prying eyes may have stumbled upon your private moment.

The door whooshes down to swallow you both in the darkness of your room and just like all those months ago, your back is pressed against the cool durasteel door. Only this time, you’re on the other side of it.

You immediately miss the warmth his body has been providing you with when he walks over to your desk, fumbling in the darkness from your lamp switch. Your lips still tingle from where his own were pressed against yours, and you swear you can still taste him.

The room is poorly illuminated from the dim bulb, but it's enough to highlight the figure of Fives leaning over your desk and you take in the full sight of him. He’s still wearing his armour from the waist down, but his upper half is only dressed in his tight blacks, and the lamp casts shadows that accentuate every ridge of muscle. It’s times like this where you’re reminded the man in front of you isn’t just your best friend, but also a highly decorated ARC Trooper, a man who spends most of his days in battle.

The serious look doesn’t leave his face, even when he’s moved back in front of you, blocking out the rest of your room with his large frame. At some point in the darkness, Fives has removed his gloves, allowing you to feel the rough skin of his hand as it cups your face. His thumb tugs at your lower lip, smearing saliva across the swollen skin as he teases the sensitive flesh. You can make out the apprehensive desire in his eyes as he marvels down at your mouth, before looking up to meet your gaze once more.

“Kriff, I…” His voice is light, and there’s an uncertain, almost desperate edge to it before he swallows it down. “Sweetheart, do you want this?” 

It would be easy to lie to the both of you and back out. You never expected to meet anyone when you enlisted into the GAR straight from your medical school. Back then you had wanted to be a doctor, it was expected of you by your family, you sacrificed your entire social life to work for it. 

You were never given the luxury of free-time, how could you ever have met anyone when all you did in your later teen years, when all your friends were partying and meeting their partners, was study? It was never a case that you didn’t want to be with anyone, but life simply prevented you from it. You were in your third year when the war broke out, two more years at the university and you would have graduated, but instead you decided to take your study credits and enlist as a medic. In less than a standard rotation from the moment you notified the university, you were on a transport to your first assignment.

You had let your work and the war rob you of so many experiences, you wouldn’t let them take this from you too. You wouldn’t let them take him from you too.

“Yes, Fives.” You nod, allowing your hands to rest on his broad shoulders. You’re sure of this, sure of him.

“Tell me to stop,” There’s a hunger in Fives’ eyes when you say his name and his lips press back to yours in a kiss that’s over far too quickly. “At any time, tell me to stop.” He’s holding your face still, unmoving until he has your consent.

“Okay.” There’s no reluctance in your tone, just a breathless need that makes Fives’ jaw tick.

Fives exhales, his shoulders relaxing and your eyes close again in anticipation, awaiting his kiss. But instead you feel the heat of his forehead press to yours, as if he’s anchoring himself against you, just for a moment.

“Okay, sweetheart.” His mouth is instantly on yours, his right hand still cups your jaw, but his left slips around your back in search of the zip on your uniform. He makes quick work of pulling the zipper down to loosen the material from your skin, and both hands travel down to your hips, tugging at the edge of the fabric.

“Hands up.” Fives’ voice is low in your ear as he presses a kiss to your hairline, and you raise your arms, allowing him to slip the top from your body. He discards it on the floor, not wanting to waste any time that could be spent with his hands on your exposed skin.

Fives is slower this time. Each movement is purposeful when he guides you both towards your small bunk, his tongue slipping past your lips in a kiss that makes you dizzy as you taste him in your mouth. 

When the back of your knees meet the edge of your bunk, Fives’ lips begin to trail down your body. His path starts at the soft skin of your now exposed cleavage, and continues down past your bra, over the smooth skin of your stomach. There’s a soft scrape when his armour makes contact with the floor, he’s dropping to a kneeling position with his lips hovering over your abdomen. You look down at the man kneeling before you with his fingers hooked in the waistband of your uniform leggings, and you can’t help but smile. Fives pauses momentarily, sending a wink up at you before he tugs the fabric down, exposing the flesh of your legs. 

“Lay down.” Fives whispers, and you can feel his warm breath tickle your stomach.

You settle backwards onto the bunk, allowing Fives to remove your leggings entirely, along with your shoes. You’re left in just your simple, black GAR issued bra and panties. It’s nothing special by any means, but Fives eyes you as if you’re an oasis he’s stumbled upon in the middle of a month-long battle. One meant only for him.

You let your eyes slip closed as you hear the familiar noise of his armour being removed, clattering to the floor. It’s something you’ve heard many times when he’s come to relax with you on an evening and you find yourself counting each piece removed as a distraction until bare fingers brush your knee. It’s a comforting touch to draw you back to him.

“Open your eyes, sweetheart, look at me.” Fives is sat just between your legs, bare aside from tight boxers that leave little of his anatomy to the imagination. You already knew what clones looked like naked, you had treated enough of them to not be phased by any part of their body. But a clone on a Medbay table was different to your best friend whose lips were pressing to the soft flesh of your inner thigh. “Is this okay?”

He inhales against your panties and you attempt to swallow your embarrassment and nervousness at the sight of your friend between your legs with only a thin layer of fabric between you. The sight of his ever-present smile between your legs sends a flood of heat through your body before it concentrates in your lower stomach.

When you don’t reply immediately, he pulls back slightly, giving the thigh he’s hooked over his shoulder a light squeeze. His brown eyes are filled with concern, searching your expression for any hesitation. 

“You still with me?” His thumb traces patterns against your skin, each movement only encouraging the fire in your body.

“I’m still with you,” You nod, watching as something lights up in his eyes. “What are you-“ 

Fives immediately silences your question with an action. His wet, open mouth presses to your thigh again and you feel yourself exposed to him when he hooks a finger in your panties, pulling them to the side. 

“I’m taking my time with you Mesh’la.” His hot breath fans over your now exposed cunt and you fight the urge to clasp your legs together, you’ve never felt more vulnerable lying in your bunk, entirely bare to the person you trust most and it’s a vulnerability that makes your heart race as if you’re under attack. 

Fives seems to sense your nervousness as he holds your knees firmly apart with his shoulders and free hand, keeping your legs open for him to litter small kisses on your inner thighs, all the while keeping you exposed for him. 

“Focus on me, Cyar'ika.”

Before your apprehension can get the better of you, Fives is licking a slow, experimental stripe up your slit, parting your folds with his tongue. His eyes are on yours the whole time, studying the awed look on your face and gasps of pleasure when his tongue runs over your clit.

Fives shakes his head, grumbling something under his breath. Before you can decipher it, he’s using one hand to lift your hips from the bed while his other practically tears the panties from your body, leaving you in just your bra. Strong hands move to grip the top of your thighs and pull you to him so he can secure his mouth to your core without obstruction, filling the room with wet, desperate noises as he laps at your cunt. 

Your hands twist in the thin bed sheets, desperately searching for something to ground you as his tongue delves inside you. His mouth is attached to you like you’re his last meal before an execution, the first drop of water after a mission on a desert planet, something he’s denied himself for far too long.

One of his fingers circles your entrance and your eyes snap open, finding him already looking up at you with a question in his gaze, asking for permission. You can only nod, not trusting your ability to speak with Fives’s tongue dragging slow circles around your clit. 

Your head slumps back to the floor when he proceeds with your consent, the sensation is entirely foreign as you feel his digit sink into you, testing your tightness. Your own fingers were nothing in comparison to his, even just the one is beginning to stretch you.

“Fives…” Your breathless plea encourages him and your teeth sink into your lower lip as he adds another finger to stretch you further. You let out a small whimper at the slight burn and he slows his movements slightly to allow you time to adjust.

“Shh, Mesh’la,” He changes the angle slightly, massaging his fingertips against the walls of your cunt as they search for a particularly sensitive spot. Your body jolts, arching towards him when he finds it, and a moan escapes you. “That’s it, relax.” 

The heat in your core is building as you grow wetter, making it easy for him to work his fingers into your tight hole, only adding to the growing pleasure building in every part of you, begging to escape. He presses his thumb to your swollen clit, one goal in mind.

“Need to make sure you’re ready for me, Cyar'ika.”

Fives withdraws his fingers from your gushing cunt, his hands instead moving from under your thighs and securing themselves back to their original position on your knees, keeping your trembling legs open as he continues to suck lightly on your clit when you reach your climax. Your body shakes, set alight with pleasure that’s only intensified by the way his head rests against your thigh, looking up at you as if committing the moment to memory.

When you finally relax against the bed, the pleasure having temporarily robbed your body of energy, you expect him to be done and move onto the next step. Instead, he lets out a low chuckle and begins circling your clit with his thumb once more. 

“Do you think you can give me another one, Mesh’la?” His soft smile contrasts his words, but his eyes gleam with mischief when you whisper a small ‘yes’ in response.

He’s using just his fingers this time, two of them working you in a scissoring motion, stretching your walls as his other hand slips between you and the mattress. His fingers expertly find the clasp to your bra, freeing you from the last item of your clothing.

His pupils are dilated, drinking in the sight of your writhing body, now entirely bare for him. He leans back slightly, taking in every detail, something between a smile and a smirk on his lips when his eyes focus on his own fingers pumping in your tight hole. The moment he feels your orgasm hit, cunt tightening around his fingers, he descends on you once more. Teeth pulling at your nipple, his thumb secured to your clit as he lets you ride out your orgasm, your hips attempt to grind up against his hand, chasing pleasure.

The world is falling back into place around you when he shifts his weight on the bed, and you hear the final piece of clothing hit the floor.

Fives is kneeling in front of you, a hand on each of your knees as you take in the sight of his bare body. His large cock makes the breath hitch in your throat, but he presses a soft kiss against your lips, prepared to ease the tension that threatens to overwhelm your body. His eyes are filled with a warmth that reassures you when he pulls back to press another kiss against your forehead, “You can take it, Cyar'ika, I’ll go slow.”

Fives settles his hips between your parted thighs, hooking one of your legs over his waist to keep you open beneath him. Soft lips ghost over yours and you feel the head of his cock settle against your entrance.

“Are you ready?” His thumb brushes along your jaw, a loving reminder that it’s your best friend above you, the person you trust the most. The same man who you would stay up with late at night after every difficult battle, who you would always pick up an extra ration bar for, the man you were in love with. 

“Yes.” Your eyes slip closed as you press your lips back to his.

The initial pressure of his cock entering you gives way to a sharp pinch that causes you to suck in a sharp breath through your teeth. Despite all of Fives’s efforts to prepare you, the unfamiliar pain seizes your body in an uncomfortable grasp.

“Relax for me, Cyar'ika.” He murmurs the assurance against your mouth, forcing his own breathing to slow, unconsciously prompting you to calm down. A hand presses to the underside of your thigh, pushing it upwards as he rolls his hips into you, he’s only halfway inside and you try to force yourself to relax around his impressive girth.

“That’s my girl.” He groans into your neck as his hand drops from your thigh to drag precise circles around your tight clit. The added layer of stimulation makes you gush around the half of his length inside you, making it easier to take his cock, but he doesn’t push any deeper. Instead he rocks his hips in a shallow motion, allowing you to adjust to this size first.

“Shh, don’t worry, Mesh’la,” He strokes your hair, continuing to press soft kisses of assurance to your mouth as he works your clit in time with his shallow thrusts. “It’ll be easier once you cum with me inside you, then you’ll be more relaxed for me.”

Fives’ hips pick up their pace, but he still limits himself, expertly watching your body's reactions to his cock. He’s continuously ensuring he doesn't go too fast, too hard, too deep. It’s a balancing act, one he seems to be perfect at with the way he already has the beginnings of another orgasm taking grasp of your body.

“Fives!”

You’re grinding helplessly against him now, one hand on his tanned chest and the other grasping at the short hair on the back of his head. Between Fives’s whispered words of adoration in your ear, you can make out the wet noises as he thrusts inside you, each movement causing more of your wetness to drip between your joined bodies, smearing you both with your arousal.

You’re hooked onto his words like a lifeline as he guides you through the experience.

“Kriff-” He shakes his head as he takes in the sight of you cumming around his cock. But it’s not lust in his eyes, it’s something far more intense. “I promised I wouldn’t do this..” His voice is strained, like he’s trying to keep the words inside of him. 

Before you can even catch your breath fully to ask what he means, your world is spinning when he pulls you upwards, slotting himself underneath you so you can no longer try to read the emotions in his face. Your back is now pressed to his chest, his body supporting you to stay upright and he’s hooking his right hand under your knee, spreading you apart.

His chin rests on top of your head, the position allowing him a full view of your body as his cock enters your cunt from behind; it’s more than before, but still not the full length. Your right arm curls up around behind you to hold the back of Fives’ neck, needily pulling him closer in the moment as you writhe against his body.

“Look at that, Cyar'ika,”  You feel the rumble in his chest just as much as you hear it, and it draws your attention down to your joined bodies. He shifts slightly to support your head as you catch glimpses of his cock disappearing into your tight hole in a series of shallow, restrained thrusts. “Look how perfectly we fit together.”

His eyes remain locked on your body, the way your chest heaves and cunt tightens, dripping down his cock as you cum once more, you’re already losing count. From what you were always told by friends when you were in University, losing your virginity was supposed to be a far cry from this. In fact you don’t think a single one of your friends had cum when losing theirs, and yet here you were, the room almost spinning from the pleasure Fives had given you.

Fives chuckles at the blissful look on your face as he pulls his hand from your clit, allowing you to relax against his larger frame. “You are really something else, Cyar'ika.” He’s slower this time when he rolls you both over once more, cradling the back of your head as he rests you back onto the pillows. 

He resumes his original position above you, thumb tracing the curve of your cheekbone. His eyes are full of adoration when he looks down at you, and there’s no trace of the painful stretch from earlier when he slides the full length of his cock inside you this time.

He’s been so focused on your pleasure that his own has been forgotten, but you see the evidence of it. He’s coated in a sheen of sweat that makes him appear like one of those glossy paintings in the art galleries on Coruscant. He’s an artwork, beautifully crafted, every muscle in his body coiled tight in restraint as his hips grind against yours. 

It’s your turn to touch him this time, to appreciate every bit of the vulnerability in his face as he presses his forehead against yours and you angle your face upwards to steal a kiss. A tortured moan escapes his lips as his thrusts only increase in speed, he’s clinging onto you like it’s his sole purpose.

“Where?” His breathing is ragged against your neck.

You make a confused noise in response and he curses something in Mando’a.

“Where do you want me to cum, Mesh’la, hm?”

You‘re speechless from the pleasure, but thankfully your body answers for you, already locking your legs around his hips to keep you joined together.

“Alright, Cyar'ika, inside it is.” There’s a soft rumble of amusement against your throat before his mouth finds yours again. One hand tangles in your hair while the other grips your hip, both of them seeking to drag you closer. You’re two stars colliding in the void of the universe, no longer orbiting each other, instead becoming one as your light drowns out all darkness around the pair of you.

His name is falling from your lips, cries of it suffocated against him when his tongue slips into your mouth. Fives empties himself inside you, his cock unloading a flood of warmth that already overspills, leaking from your cunt with every slow movement of his hips. He pulls back, an unreadable emotion in his eyes before he buries his face in your hair, distracting himself by stroking at your burning skin. You stay there as you both begin to calm, hearts beating in sync with one another as your bodies remain joined.

He’s breathing heavily in your ear, an affirmation that you haven’t died and ascended to some afterlife when he drags his hips away from yours, leaving you empty as he stands up. 

“Where are you going?” You hate yourself for sounding so needy, but with his cum leaking from between your thighs, how could you not. You knew it was common for men to leave straight after sex. You’ve caught some of the boys’ one night stands sneaking out barely ten minutes after they had been brought to the barracks, hair messy and clothes dishevelled. 

“Relax, sweetheart, I’m not leaving.” He winks at you before disappearing into the small fresher joined to your room. You hear the water running for what seems like far too long, before he returns with a warm washcloth.

“Gotta clean us up before we make a mess on the bed, I’m not falling asleep in a wet patch.” He settles back between your legs, whispering soothing praises as he cleans your combined fluids. He’s thorough, making sure there’s no trace of him left before he presses a kiss to your inner thigh and discards the cloth into your laundry basket.

“C’mere.” He settles down next to you, lifting an arm to allow you to curl up against him and he pulls the bed covers over your waists. “You did so well, sweetheart.” He presses a kiss to your forehead, basking in a moment neither of you want to end. It’s sweet, intimate, and perfect. 

Yet you can’t stop yourself from asking the question.

“What did you mean when you said you promised you wouldn’t do this?” 

He pauses, an awkward smile tugging at his lips, you’d never seen him nervous like this, a blush creeping into his cheeks that he can’t even blame on the sex. “Caught that did you?”

You nod, biting the inside of your cheek. Your cards were on the table, it’s only fair that his should be too.

“I suppose it’s only fair given that I didn’t let you get away with not drinking.” There’s a nervous edge to his laugh as he drags you closer to him, like he’s afraid you could disappear at any given moment.

“Do you remember the first time we played Sabbac, you kicked Rex’s ass, and I walked you back to your room?”

You nod slightly. The memory still plagued your thoughts on sleepless nights, it embedded itself in a playlist of embarrassing moments that liked to keep you awake. Yet, it also featured on the list of thoughts that had your legs twisted in the bed sheets as you imagine what would have happened if he did kiss you that night. 

“I wanted to kiss you, but I couldn’t.” He sighs regretfully, admitting the truth he had been fighting against all of the months since that night.

“I think you’d only been here for what - a month?” You feel his laugh against your cheek as it rumbles in his chest. “And I couldn’t get you out of my damn head, I even made Echo fake being sick once just so I had an excuse to come to the Medbay and talk to you.” You remembered, and now felt slightly bad for insisting you give Echo all those unnecessary virus and anti-nausea shots.

“I needed the excuses to see you, because if I didn’t, and I saw you without them, it’d mean something that I’d been avoiding.” He trails off, trying to find a way to put it into words, it wasn’t something he had ever been good at. But he would try, for you he would try.

“The rest of the boys found out because I called you my girlfriend once when Kix gave me some of the heavy stuff in those green syringes.” He laughs, shaking his head and your mind begins to put the pieces together, that’s why they teased him so often about it. “They all promised they wouldn’t tell you how I felt though - I wanted to be the one to tell you.”

He drags a hand down his face, his jaw tenses. “And then I got jealous when I saw that Sergeant from the 104th talking to you, how he had his hands on you,” He shakes his head, an irritated look playing on his face, both at the other trooper, and his own actions on that night. “Thought I blew my shot, and I tried to cover it the only way I knew how.”

Your mind recalls him and the Twi’lek making a beeline for the 79’s freshers, how just a month ago you ended up crying in the alleyway, it was like taking a blaster bolt to your chest. No amount of Bacta could fix the pain that night, but you had certainly tried to heal it with whiskey.

“But I didn’t do it, and it’s not like Echo said, not because I couldn't,” He pulls himself back from you, but continues to hold you, to keep you in the moment with him as he explains what happens, a regretful look on his face. “It’s because she wasn’t you, Cyare.”

He presses his forehead to yours, closing his eyes and your fingers trace over the tattoo again, just for a moment, just until he finds the strength inside of him; the strength to override his programmed instincts to be a loyal, unattached soldier and nothing more.

“I promised myself I wouldn’t…” Fives trails off, opening his eyes. He needs to see your reaction, whether it’s good or bad, he needs to know. “Fall in love with you.”

You wonder if this is what the Jedi feel with the force around them, but instead of the whole world, you just feel Fives. The warmth of his skin under your fingers, the certainty in his eyes, the utter devotion for you in his voice as he fights against every form of conditioning he’s received.

“Fives, you idiot…” His expression is concerned at first until he sees your teary eyes and beaming smile. “I love you too.”

You had loved him since the moment he kissed your knuckles on your first day in the Medbay, every interaction after that only strengthened the bond between you.

Fives smiles down at you, his quiet laughs tickle your skin with warm air as you’re lured back into his embrace. He laughs disbelievingly, shaking his head as he allows his body to press back against yours, a perfect fit.

“We have so much time to make up for, sweetheart.” 

You never want to lose this feeling, his lips marking your body, peppering reminders everywhere that you’re his, you have been since the moment that fateful order flashed up on your datapad. You’re anchored, attached, tethered to him - whatever word you want to give it, you’re his.

[dindjarindiaries]

Senator's Shadow - Chapter 1

summary: Hunter briefs the squad on their new mission, though he’s in for a surprise of his own upon meeting the senator they’ll be protecting.

pairing: hunter (the bad batch) x fem!reader

rating: mature (18+)

tags: bodyguard romance, forbidden love, fluff & angst, emotional & physical hurt/comfort, canon-typical violence, injuries & blood, trauma, eventual/mild smut

word count: 3.932k

series masterlist ⟹ chapter 2

chapter 1 ⟹

“That’s it?” Echo was even less impressed than usual. His brow rose as he set a hand on his hip. “That’s the big news?”

Wrecker let out an exasperated groan of his own. “Sarge, we don’t need a break!”

Hunter’s eyebrow quirked up. “Tell that to Tech.” The sergeant gestured with his head to their squad member who was sitting just behind where he stood on the Marauder. “He still can’t walk right. I’m not throwing us into battle when we’re not all one-hundred percent.”

“Actually, I will have you know that the ligaments in my ankle have already gotten forty-two percent stronger.” Tech finally lifted his nose from his datapad and pushed his goggles up with his finger. “As you can see, I—...” Tech stood from the chair, but as soon as he placed too much pressure on his ankle, he winced. With a defeated exhale, he sunk back into the chair. “I am still healing.”

“Exactly.” Hunter crossed his arms over his chestplate. “This is still a mission, even if it’s not our usual pace.”

“As long as I have something to aim for, I’m fine with it.” Crosshair spoke without looking up from his rifle, which he was cleaning with his usual intensity.

“Well, if all goes well, you won’t.” Hunter’s prepared for the heat of Crosshair’s stern stare when it hits him. “It’s a protection job, for a senator.”

Crosshair’s response was even more snide than usual. “Isn’t that what the Coruscant Guard is for?”

“And the Jedi?” Echo added.

“On Coruscant, sure.” Hunter leaned his shoulder against the nearest interior hull and enjoyed the long moment of attentive silence he had from all four members of the squad. It was a rarity those days. “But this mission’s based elsewhere.”

Echo narrowed his eyes and spoke in a cautious tone. “Where?”

Hunter caught the gaze of all his men before answering. “Eirus.”

“Eirus is currently experiencing an intense inner crisis,” Tech somehow had the words ready for the rest of the squad straightaway, as if he knew what name was about to fall from Hunter’s tongue. “Nearly half the planet’s population is composed of fiercely loyal Separatists who have splintered into small factions. Some of these factions have become very violent in an attempt to force their senator to pledge her allegiance to their cause.”

Echo raised his brow and turned his calculated gaze from Tech back to Hunter. “This isn’t exactly an unusual thing to be happening during this war.”

“No, and that’s why most senators are staying on Coruscant longer than they used to.” Hunter’s hand slid down to his hip as he recalled the details of the short briefing. “Because of the crisis on Eirus, the senator is traveling on-world in an attempt to reach a compromise and bring an end to the violence.”

“Sounds dangerous,” Wrecker commented. He let out a hearty chuckle and shoved the shoulder of his nearest brother, who just so happened to be Crosshair. “I like this senator already!”

“She’s not the one who will have to fight if things go sideways, Wrecker,” Crosshair reminded him in his usual cool tone. The corner of his mouth began to rise as he went on. “That’s what we’ll be there for.”

“Right.” Hunter began to relax a bit as he watched the squad warm up more to the mission. “I told you it was a break because it’s a change in pace, but don’t worry boys.” Hunter pushed himself off the hull and nodded as his lips stretched in a satisfied smile. “I have a feeling we’ll still be seeing some action.”

“So, I will get to shoot something?” Crosshair cocked his rifle with a hopeful twinkle in his eye.

“And I’ll get to blow something up?” Wrecker set a hand on Crosshair’s shoulder again as he stepped forward. Crosshair shot him a disapproving look.

“That depends.” Hunter drew his blaster from his holster and flipped it a few times in his grasp, though the latter movement was subconscious. “We’re on a struck stun-only policy.”

“What?” Wrecker gasped with surprise. “Why? What if there’re droids?”

“Seeing as we are soldiers of the Republic, using live rounds on the people of Eirus would only escalate the issue the senator is trying to resolve,” Tech answered. “We would be giving the Separatist population another reason to justify their actions against the Republic.”

“And as far as our intel goes, no Separatist forces have made their way to Eirus,” Hunter added, holstering his blaster.

“Yet.” Echo spoke the word that hung in the air between the five of them.

“We’ll have a better idea of exactly what we’re up against when we get there.” Hunter shifted to face Tech. “For now, we have to head to Coruscant to meet the senator.”

Tech nodded, spinning around in the pilot’s chair to chart a course. The squad began to break off as the sergeant sat in the open co-pilot’s chair beside Tech’s. Crosshair was still adding the final touches on his rifle’s cleanliness in the seat behind Hunter’s, while Wrecker and Echo had disappeared further inside the hold.

After Tech finished inputting the coordinates, he turned to look at the sergeant. “Hunter, you know that we do not have to do this on my accord.” He looked down at his wrapped ankle. “With the bacta infusions I have been doing, my injury should be completely healed in about two rotations’ time.”

“I know, Tech.” Hunter let out a soft exhale and leaned back in his chair. He unsheathed his blade and began to twirl it around in another subconscious exercise. “We’ve just been running a lot of back-to-back missions, and obviously, it’s starting to catch up to us.”

Crosshair snorted, and Hunter’s senses didn’t need to amplify the sound to make it obvious. Hunter didn’t bother giving him a look as he focused on the movements of his knife.

“Plus, we were specifically requested for this mission.”

Tech’s brow shot up at that. “Someone selected us? For a protection job?”

“Not just ‘someone.’” Hunter gave Tech a quick glance to highlight the smirk that had begun to tug at his lips. “The senator herself.”

Tech adjusted his goggles, clearly unsure of what to do in his shock. “The senator? That’s highly unusual. Typically, it would be an individual on the senator’s personal guard who would do the necessary research to—.”

“I think Hunter knows how it works,” Crosshair huffed from his place behind them.

“You’re right though, Tech. It’s unusual.” Hunter caught the hilt of his knife and paused to fully face Tech. “It caught my curiosity. I want to know what she thinks is so special about us.”

Tech blinked at Hunter a few times. “I presume it would be our desirable genetic mutations that are, in case you were not aware, not a secret.”

“Yeah, and what does that usually cause?” Hunter sheathed his blade and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Caution and distrust. Not a personal invitation to what’s most likely the most important diplomatic mission of her political career.”

“You… have a point.” Tech lifted his datapad and began to tap around it. “I will do some more research on the senator.”

“Great.” Hunter stood and patted Tech on the shoulder before he moved out of the cockpit. 

Wrecker was already lounging in the chair by the systems console, while Echo lingered in the corner and fiddled with something on his arm. Hunter caught their attention as he stepped into their space, which made it all the more easier for him to address him.

“You boys should get some rest. We’re a long way out from Coruscant.” He nodded at Echo, who had raised his brow before he had a chance to ask his question. “I’m taking first watch.”

“Again?” Wrecker’s tone was coated in disbelief. His gaze betrayed that same emotion. “Are you actually gonna get some rest this time, Sarge?”

Hunter shrugged and offered a small smile. “Depends on how fast we get there.” He let out a sigh when Wrecker’s concern still didn’t let up. “Don’t worry about me, Wrecker. We’ll all be getting some more rest on this mission.”

That was enough for Wrecker, causing him to nod as he leaned back further in the chair and closed his eyes. His feet had already been kicked up on the console, and he was fortunate Tech hadn’t yet noticed. That wouldn’t last long.

As Hunter turned to re-enter the cockpit, he found Crosshair already standing and shouldering Tech. “We already heard you,” Crosshair assured him.

“I pulled up everything I could find on the senator,” Tech informed the sergeant, handing him the datapad with his free hand. “What I found most fascinating was the motivation behind her appointment.”

Hunter nodded at Tech in approval, and he knew better than to comment on the speed of his research. “Good work.” He looked between the two of them. “Now get some rest.”

Tech spoke to Hunter over his shoulder as Crosshair started to crutch him away. “You are aware that the brain and the body cannot properly operate on limited rest, especially with as little sleep as you have gotten in recent rotations?”

Hunter scoffed fondly to himself and called back to him. “Thanks, Tech.”

The sergeant held the datapad and made himself comfortable in the pilot’s chair. He leaned back and held up the datapad, clicking through Tech’s research. Taking his brother’s advice, Hunter first looked at the senator’s background, specifically the history of your appointment.

His eyes widened as he read the Aurebesh text in front of him. He had to agree with Tech; your ascension from rebellion leader to senator was nothing short of fascinating.

According to the history Tech had pulled up, you had been the one to organize a large group of Eirus’ population against an oppressive local regime, which had slowly taken over the planet’s government. They had covered up the assassination of Eirus’ senator, who was your relative, and withdrawn from the Republic Senate altogether. It wasn’t until your forces managed to topple their regime that you had become the planet’s senator and reestablished a relationship between Eirus and the Senate.

That only made Hunter’s curiosity ache even more. If you once had enough forces to overthrow a regime, then why did you need a Republic squadron as protection? It did, at least, speak somewhat to why their squad had been chosen. Clearly, as a soldier and tactician yourself, you had done the research to find the ideal squad for the job.

Even as his eyes began to burn from the aforementioned lack of rest his brothers had been getting on his case about, he couldn’t stop planning the ways he would pick your brain for the reason why they were the ones you needed so badly.

This kept Hunter busy for the commute. He remained on watch the entire time, only leaving his post when the Marauder was about to drop out of hyperspace. Hunter woke up the squad and instructed them to get ready, and it was no surprise that Tech was already prepared to take the helm. His ankle had healed considerably during his rest, just as he had predicted, and thus he was able to limp himself to the cockpit with a surprising amount of ease.

Hunter stayed in the co-pilot’s seat and gave Tech the information on the senator’s designated docking area. It had been a while since their last visit to Coruscant, but of course, Tech navigated the air traffic with ease. The Marauder soon began its descent onto the platform, and Hunter observed the space with a raise of his brow.

Rather than the typical red markings of the Republic, or even the white and gold accents many senators added for flair, your platform was filled with delicate swirls of green and purple. The color palette reminded him of the few lush planets he and the squad had been to on various missions, emulating the colorful overgrowth of forests and gardens. He let out an impressed huff. It seemed you were truly carving your own path in more ways than just one.

Hunter rose from his chair to collect his belongings. He secured his pack on his back and checked all his weapons before reaching for his helmet. As soon as the Marauder had fully landed, Tech did the same, and he was the last of the squad to get in formation by the hatch. After Hunter did a quick assessment of them all, he slid on his helmet and lowered the stairs.

As he led the way out, Hunter observed their surroundings more closely. They were being approached by the senator and her guards, with the man Hunter had spoken to leading in front and the others blocking the senator from view. The guards wore the same colors of green and purple as the platform, and their weapons were accented with silver.

“Sergeant,” the head guard greeted once he was in earshot. Hunter wondered if the man knew he still could have heard him at any distance. The guard stopped just a few paces away from the squad and bowed his head. “Thank you for arriving so promptly.”

Hunter removed his helmet and tucked it under his arm before repeating the man’s bow. “Captain.” He gestured with his head to his squad. “We’re just as eager to get going.”

The captain smiled. “We figured as much.”

Hunter’s eyebrow rose. “‘We?’”

The captain’s grin spread even more widely as he took a step back and gestured with his arm to the guards behind him. “Allow me to formally introduce you.” The captain announced your full name and title, and the guards standing in front of you parted to allow you to step through.

Hunter was no stranger to seeing and speaking with diplomats and leaders, from planetary royalty to the other senators of the Republic. Those types of positions always emphasized image, and thus Hunter was used to seeing some of the most conventionally attractive people in the galaxy—but this, seeing you, was the first time he ever had to audibly stifle a breath.

For once, the only heartbeat Hunter could sense was his own, the skip and then speed of it as it hammered against his armored chest.

Composure. It was a lesson he and the others all had to learn on Kamino, and it was one he had always excelled in. It was much of the reason why he had earned his rank as sergeant. This, however, was the first time he ever had to forcibly remind himself to find it.

Then he realized the strength of the skip in his heartbeat wasn’t just from his own, but also from yours. That made his mask slip for one second more before he pulled it together.

“Senator.” Hunter resisted the urge to clear his throat as he bowed his head, taking the quick moment of concealment to let the flush burn through his cheeks. It was hard to keep the sensation from persisting when he looked back up and observed that you wore the same colors as your guards.

“You must be Sergeant Hunter.” Your voice added a new layer of unfamiliar yet sweet warmth to Hunter’s chest as your lips spread in a radiant smile. You extended your hand towards him. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

All thoughts and proper protocol dissipated from Hunter’s mind as he saw your outstretched hand in front of him. He took it without his gaze ever breaking from yours and raised it to his lips, gently kissing the soft skin on the back of your hand before offering it back to you. “The pleasure’s all ours, Senator.”

And there it was, another skip in your heartbeat. Hunter fought hard to hide his own smile as yours grew. Your gaze gave him a once-over, an action so quick Hunter would have second guessed it if he hadn’t felt its gentle burn. “I like your armor. It’s different from the other clones.”

“Yeah, well… so are we.” His words reminded him of the squad who still stood behind him, and Hunter stepped aside to make them all more visible. “Let me introduce you to the squad.” He began with Wrecker, who was closest to his side. “This is—.”

“—Wrecker, Tech, Echo, and Crosshair.” You named each one of them with ease, your face beaming as you gave them all a respectful nod. “I apologize for cutting you off, Sergeant. I just… I love your squad’s work.”

Hunter blinked a few times in surprise at what he was hearing. It was rare enough for such diplomats, politicians, and royals to have even heard of his squad, much less admire what they did on the battlefield. “Well, uh… thank you, Senator.”

“That is certainly a surprising sentiment,” Tech couldn’t keep himself from adding. “Commonly, the adjectives associated with our battle strategies are… less than favorable.”

“Hah!” Wrecker elbowed Tech’s chestplate, making him wince and rub the spot with narrowed eyes. “My favorite was when that prime minister called us ‘destructive.’”

“You’re not being helpful, Wrecker,” Crosshair muttered.

“Oh, stow it, Crosshair,” Wrecker scoffed. “You’re just mad that I got the last of ‘em on that mission.”

“That’s enough.” Hunter resisted the urge to sigh at them as he turned to face you with an apologetic look.

You instead offered him a reassuring nod and a soft laugh. “I think it’s great you have some friendly competition in your squad.” You looked over them with fondness. “It breeds efficiency.”

“That’s right!” Wrecker cheered. He reached over to Crosshair to give his armored shoulder a light push. “I told you I would like her!”

“Yeah, you’re not the only one,” Echo mumbled, his words only loud enough for the squad to hear. 

Hunter tightened his jaw when he felt their gazes on him and heard Crosshair’s snickering. “If you’d like, Senator, we can lead the way in our ship.” He gestured with his free hand back to the Marauder. “Just in case there are any unwanted surprises awaiting your arrival.”

“Hopefully that’s not the case, but I’d appreciate that, Sergeant.” You smiled again and nodded. “Thank you. I look forward to working with you more closely on Eirus.” Your gaze lingered on Hunter before it looked around the squad.

“As do we.” Hunter bowed his head once more. “Tech will set up a secure comm channel for us to use once we’re on board.”

“Perfect.” Your smile was directed at Tech as you nodded at him. “Thank you, Tech.”

“You do not need to extend gratitude towards me for merely fulfilling my purpose, Senator.” Hunter couldn’t help the small eye roll he gave at Tech’s words. So much for Hunter being the one to slip up on propriety.

Hunter slid his helmet back on and began to lead the squad back to the Marauder. His face burned from both his memory of what had just happened and his anticipation of what he would be up against inside the ship. He flexed the hand that had held yours as it also burned at the memory of your touch.

Maybe Hunter was more right before than even he had known at the time. Maybe all those missions really had taken its toll on them, and maybe it was driving him down a delusional spiral. He really did need to get some rest.

As soon as the squad was on the Marauder with the hatch secured in place, Tech spoke up. “That was not the proper protocol for greeting a senator, Hunter.”

“I’m aware, Tech.” He lifted his helmet and gestured with his head to the cockpit. “Get those comms set up and chart our course.”

Tech nodded, though Hunter didn’t miss the faint smile on his lips as he limped to the cockpit. Hunter set his helmet down and ran his hand over his hair as he thought about what to do next. He had a plan before, surely; he had thought of it in hyperspace on the way to Coruscant. It had, of course, vanished for some reason.

“You seem distracted, Sarge,” Wrecker’s voice broke through Hunter’s thoughts as he grinned slyly at him.

“Come on, Wrecker,” Echo said next. His expression turned from serious to amused as his gaze found Hunter’s. “Clearly, he is distracted.”

“I’m thinking about our arrival on Eirus,” Hunter insisted.

“And your reunion with—,” Crosshair started.

“Our plan.” Hunter raised his brow, challenging them to continue. Crosshair raised his brow and fought a smile as he set a toothpick between his lips. “We don’t know what will be waiting for us when we get there.”

“You sound worried, Hunter.” Echo set a hand on his hip as he faced the sergeant. “I thought this mission was going to be a ‘break.’”

“Nah, he’s just getting protective already.” Wrecker set a hand on Echo’s shoulder and chuckled a few times.

Hunter circled his jaw and crossed his arms. “That’s the whole point of this mission. Protecting.” Hunter furrowed his brow at the men around him. “Don’t forget that.”

Echo’s brow rose as he looked over at Wrecker. “You’re right, Wrecker.” He snickered. “‘Protective.’”

Hunter rolled his eyes and turned around to walk into the cockpit. As he went, he heard Crosshair say one more thing to Echo and Wrecker. “He really does need to get some sleep. He’s gotten… cranky.”

Hunter didn’t bother throwing a glare over his shoulder as he approached Tech in the pilot’s chair. He set his hands upon the back of the chair to check on Tech’s progress. “How’s it going in here?”

“Presumably much better than it has for you out there.” Tech didn’t so much as crack a smile as he worked the controls, despite his joke that made Hunter huff with amusement. “The comm channel is fully functioning, and our course is charted. Seeing as Eirus is located in the Outer Rim, we will have another lengthy trip ahead of us.”

Hunter nodded. “Great. I’m going to get some long-awaited rest.”

“Good.” Tech looked up from the controls to give Hunter a pointed glance. “I believe it is the lack of rest that caused such a slip-up in your propriety today.”

Hunter smiled at that, and part of him wanted to believe it. “Right.” He patted Tech’s shoulder and stepped out of the cockpit. Echo brushed past him on his way to claim first watch, and Wrecker and Crosshair couldn’t keep their sly smiles contained as Hunter walked to his bunk.

As he settled in, the full weight of what had happened during your meeting began to sink in. Tech had a point, as it had to be the lack of rest that allowed him to get so carried away. There was no point in even entertaining the thought of giving in to the warmth he had felt before. Potential reciprocation wouldn’t change that.

He knew what Cut had sacrificed for Suu. As the leader of his squad, Hunter couldn’t do the same. He refused to.

And the fact he was even letting such thoughts go so far caused his face to burn with a different kind of embarrassment as he fell asleep to flashes of green and purple in his exhausted mind.

series masterlist ⟹ chapter 2

[just-here-with-my-thoughts]

"I didn't think [we] would get this far"

@summer-of-bad-batch prompt week 11 (sorry I tweaked the wording slightly to make it fit the story ^^;)

Fandom: The Bad Batch Characters/Relationships: Tech/Phee Set during Tech and Phee's courtship which happened off-screen, obviously Word Count: ~555 Read Here on AO3

Synopsis: Tech and Phee debate the merits of lab-grown versus natural.

With thanks to @fanfoolishness who is the one who suggested I try and fit my Specialist Subject into a fanfic XD

“It’s just not the same, y’know?” said Phee, gesturing with her drink to emphasise her point. “It’s not!”

“On the contrary,” countered Tech, watching her animated speech from across the table. “It is exactly the same. A synthetic diamond is chemically, physically and optically identical to its natural counterpart. It is merely the origin which differs.”

“Where’s the romance?” Leaning forwards, Phee fixed him with a mischievous look. “Your lab-grown so-called ‘diamonds’ can’t compare to the mystery of a gemstone formed millions of years ago, deep underground…” She was gesturing expansively now, becoming impassioned. “Erupted to the surface in a boiling column of lava, and eventually weathered from its host rock over eons of exposure…”

“Are you suggesting,” said Tech carefully, giving her the side-eye, “that a ­laboratory-grown counterpart cannot compare to the natural specimen on which it was based?” He held up a finger, lips pursed in amusement. “Think carefully before you answer, my dear.”

Phee already had her mouth open to argue her point when she paused, considering her words. She swatted playfully at his finger, grinning widely. “Alright, Brown-Eyes, you win this round.”

Tech’s smug smirk didn’t last as she leaned across the table to plant a kiss on his lips, lingering just a little longer than she usually did.

“I still think ‘synthetic diamonds’ lack romance, though,” she added as she pulled away.

“Your views have been noted.” He tapped something into his datapad. “If any of your friends or relations should approach me for gift-giving advice, I shall inform them that the natural geological origin of any jewelled ornaments they purchase for you is of the utmost importance.”

“I mean,” said Phee, unable to contain her smirk, “it’s not any of them who are going to be buying me diamonds.”

“I don’t know why not… oh.”

The exact moment that realisation dawned on Tech was registered by the slight dilation of his pupils, and the pretty blush that came to his cheeks.

“Another nat-born tradition?” he asked, forcing a casual lilt to his voice. “Only romantic partners engage in the diamond-gifting process?”

Phee grinned widely, resting her chin on top of her laced fingers. “Got it in one.”

“Ah. Hmm. I see.” Tech adjusted his goggles, the way he did to buy himself time to think.

Taking pity on him, Phee nudged her foot against his under the table. “This didn’t come up during your research?” she teased lightly. Tech had told her during their last date that he had been researching courtship customs, “So I may best prepare to meet your expectations as we pursue this romantic endeavour.”

“I admit, I stopped reading before I reached the chapter on gift-exchange customs.” Tech was blushing fiercely now, but he met her eyes with a shy smile. “I didn’t think we would get this far quite so quickly.” And despite his embarrassment, now he took the initiative to lean across the table and capture Phee’s lips in a tentative kiss.

Phee smiled against his mouth, bringing one hand up to gently hold the back of his head, fingertips teasing along the strap of his goggles.

“Tell you what, Brown-Eyes,” she said, voice simultaneously sultry and full of amusement. “When we reach the gift-giving chapter, if you buy me a big enough diamond, I won’t even ask where it came from.”

Yes I leaned into received wisdom about engagement ring gifting for the purpose of this story but lets be honest, we live in modern times, ladies you don't have to wait for a guy to put a ring on it... you can buy your own diamonds and love them just as much ;)

Sincerely, an industry professional who buys her own jewellery. I'm here all week for your jewellery and gemstone related questions ^_^ <3

[bring-backup-99]

All That We Need

Read on Ao3

PAIRING: tech x fem reader, the batch x fem reader

SUMMARY: They get back from an assignment faster than you expect. You’ve missed Tech a bit extra.

WORDS COUNT: 1632

RATING + WARNINGS: 18+, spicy, porn with minimal plot, PiV, sex against a wall, semi-public sex, domestic fluff

NOTES: This is Part 46 of my ongoing reverse harem “Bad Choices” smutlet series on Ao3. Yes, this is how I channeled my extra energy after the Season 2 finale.

It’s written in second person, and my heroine has a very established relationship with the Batch.

When you come home, you’re surprised to hear Wrecker calling your name as you walk through the bar. He, Hunter, and Crosshair are sitting in a booth, clearly a number of drinks deep.

“I wasn’t expecting you back for a few rotations,” you smile, as you slide in next to Crosshair, who immediately drapes a long arm around your shoulders.

“We’re very efficient,” he drawls.

You look around. “Where’s Tech?”

“Upstairs. Probably sleeping,” answers Hunter.

“Sleeping?” You look at him incredulously. They all give little shrugs.

“He has to…occasionally,” says Crosshair.

“Mmmm…okay,” you start to extract yourself from the booth. “Let me drop off my stuff and then I’ll come down, with or without him.” Crosshair rolls his eyes but lets you go.

You open the door, and, sure enough, Tech is quietly snoring, slumped over on the couch, his datapad still firmly in his hand but resting on his lap.

You put your bag down at the entrance and leave him undisturbed.

“Told you!” exclaims Wrecker, when you’re back in the booth.

“What did you do to him?” you laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him asleep when the suns are still up.”

“We made him work extra hard so we could get back and start drinking.” You poke Crosshair in the ribs, and he feigns injury then passes you his glass. You take a sip.

“I haven’t eaten, and I can’t keep up with you boys even when I have. Let’s go to the cantina and get something. Someone leave Tech a message?” Hunter nods. “Then we can come back here and close this place down.” You wave at the bartender as you walk out. “He’ll put these on my tab.”

The walk to the cantina is short, but Wrecker and Crosshair draw it out by picking you up and then passing you back and forth, Wrecker occasionally pressing boozy kisses to your cheek. Once you sit down, you order something you’ve always wanted to try but never had enough people for: the giant bowl of noodles. After seeing Wrecker and Crosshair’s ability to pack away huge amounts of food, this is clearly the time.

After you fill up, you watch the three of them finish the hot pot and enjoy their dynamic. Crosshair is in an excellent if mischievous mood as he goads Hunter and Wrecker into a small round of competitive storytelling, both trying to impress you with tales of the triumphant uses of their divergent skill sets.

“You both sound very good at your jobs!” you laugh. “I could hardly call you anything but experts.” You ruffle Hunter’s hair and kiss him on the cheek. Wrecker leans over to collect his as well.

Back at the bar, you sit on Wrecker with your legs over Hunter and Crosshair’s laps. You drink slowly, knowing full well that their tolerance is much higher than your own. Much, much higher, and you refuse to get drawn into their drinking games.

“You just made that one up,” you say to Crosshair, as he proposes a game that requires much more skill than anyone could possibly have at this stage of the night.

“Ah, he didn’t,” laughs Hunter. “Picked that one up from some regs who’d just got back from Ryloth.”

“I’m an adult. I don’t need drinking games in order to drink.”

“You’re no fun,” says Crosshair. You shrug.

“And to prove that, I’m going to bed. I don’t know about you, but I had a long day, and I was not expecting you to make it longer,” you smile and point to them accusingly.

“Ugh, you really are no fun.” You climb over him and kiss his cheek.

“We both know that’s not true.” You wave goodnight to the bartender, who will make sure they don’t pay for any drinks, then head upstairs.

Tech is still on the couch but awake. “Why didn’t you come down?” you ask, as you straddle him, pushing the datapad aside.

“You are inebriated.”

“Just a little.” You start working your fingers under his shirt. He lets you.

“You should hydrate.”

“Probably.” You kiss him. “Bar’s open for at least another hour. Think we can fit one in before they come upstairs?”

“I do not make it a habit of engaging in intercourse with intoxicated individuals.”

“Well, I hope not,” you laugh. “But I’m not ‘intoxicated individuals.’ I’m someone who you know very much wants to fuck right now, and I would be feeling the same way even if I hadn’t been drinking.”

Sure, he’s protesting, but you’ve managed to get his pants undone.

“It’s been too long, Tech. Too long since I’ve had that thick cock in me.”

“It has been three rotations.”

“But it was supposed to be more, and now I have all this pent up energy, all this anticipation, running through me. You’re not going to make me wait longer, are you?” From the feel of his erection, he is not. You kiss him. “I have an idea. Wait here.”

You go into your room and change, coming back in a short dress. You grab his hand, pulling him behind you, and open the door to the apartment. The sound of the bar fills the hallway. You bring him within a few feet of the stairway.

“Fuck me here.” You reach for him, taking hold of his shirt, and pull him to you, gasping into his mouth as he takes your hands and pins them to the wall, grinding against you. After a few moments, he lifts you, holding you up with one arm, and reaches between your legs, the thin fabric of your panties already soaked through. He pushes it aside.

“Remember when you made me stand at the bar and fingered me until I came? I wanted you so badly, I was ready to let you fuck me on this stairwell. I thought about it for weeks.”

He takes his cock out and, in a quick rough stroke, is in you.

“FUCK. Yes.” You groan in pleasure. “Do you think anyone can hear me down there? Shouldn’t you make me be quiet so no one finds us?”

He grunts and his hand covers your lips as he thrusts into you, smothering your cries of ecstasy.

“You were…quite aroused that evening.” His hand slips slightly from your mouth.

“I can’t…believe…you left me there.” Then you bite the side of his palm. He lets you, as he focuses on pounding into you, and you moan. You wrap your arms around his neck, your legs around his hips.

“My goal…was to keep you interested.” He dislodges his hand so that he can put both of them on your ass for better leverage.

“Mission…accomplished. FUCK! Mmmmmmmm…Why…why do I want you so badly?” He slides almost all the way out before slamming back into you. “Why do you…feel so good to me?” Your fingers run through his hair, catching on the goggles strap. He thrusts into you roughly, again and again, his head buried in the crook of your neck. “Oh gods, Tech, you’re going to make me come like this.”

“Say it.”

“No one…no one fucks me like you,” you moan, “No one makes me come like you, Tech. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Fuck, Tech! Oh, Tech,” you gasp. “I’m coming.” And you are, as he pounds into you, your body arches as every fiber in your being contracts as the orgasm crashes through you. He starts to slow slightly.

“Don’t…don’t stop…unless you need to,” you manage to say. “Feels…so good.”

You enjoy the aftershocks as he works to his own climax, your body tingling in pleasure, a ridiculous smile of contentment on your face. His lips find yours and you kiss as he makes the little noises signaling his own orgasm. He holds you against the wall, mouths and tongues as intertwined as your limbs.

“Gods,” you whisper to him. “That was so good.”

“You will need additional hydration before you go to bed tonight.”

You laugh, “Yes, okay.” He slips out of you as he puts you down. You feel his cum soaking your underwear, dripping down your leg.

*

When they finally appear, you’re lying in bed working on your datapad. Tech is next to you doing the same.

“Thought you were tired.” Crosshair raises an eyebrow.

“Felt a bit reinvigorated. Plus, he’s making sure I drink enough water so I’m not hungover.”

Soon you’re surrounded by them, and you’re happy to have your bed filled with their conversation and laughter. Tech gets up after a while.

“Crosshair can sleep on my side,” he says, leaning over to kiss you. “I will work on the couch.”

“That’s what you get for napping during the day,” you smile up at him. He rolls his eyes.

As soon as the space is vacated, Crosshair is on your other side. “Mmmm…it’s nice over here. Doesn’t have the Wrecker divot.”

“Hey!” laughs the big man.

“Or the Hunter butt bowl.” You give Crosshair a little smack, but Hunter does have that ample ass.

“We can’t all be stick-straight, Crosshair,” says Hunter. “Plus, she likes my butt.”

“That I do.” You reach around him to give it a squeeze.

Soon enough, Crosshair is nestled against you, with Wrecker and Hunter practically spooning to rest their arms over you.

“Just get comfy, boys, but don’t squish me. I’m not going anywhere.”

*

Tech looks in at the bodies strewn across the bed. Everyone appears peaceful in their sleep, despite the snoring. Even though he’s not tired, he itches to get into bed next to you, to feel your body curl into his. As he turns back to his work, his thought is simply that everyone looks content.

And that is because everyone is.

*** Read the rest of the series here.

Fair warning: It can get kinky.

[witch-off]

“How to heal a broken bone.”

SPOILERS FOR THE BAD BATCH S2

Rating: Explicit +18

Pairing: Tech x (F)Reader

Synopsis: Tech is very frustraded after breaking his femur, to say the least. He can’t go on missions. He can't fix his ship. He can't even walk straight with crutches. Luckily you are there to help him.

Warnings: Established relationship, poly relationship with the rest of the Batch, a little bit of angst, smut, fingering (female receiving) and oral sex(male receiving).

You hear Tech sigh for the 10th time. Or maybe it was the 15th time. You were already losing count.

Your eyes move from your current task to Tech sitting in the pilot's chair. He seemed bored while staring at his datapad, which was something unusual. "Bored" was one of the last words you would use to describe him. He always seemed to be involved in some research or working on something with his hands. But now he was navigating through files in a distracted way in search of some interesting information.

The culprit of this situation was the cast that went from his foot to half of his left thigh. Luckily, the fracture in the femur wasn’t serious, it would take 3 months for him to recover, but with the help of AZI and a lot of bacta Tech would be back much sooner. Unfortunately, this also meant that he couldn’t go on missions for quite a while.

The others had left early to explore for supplies, but you had chosen to stay and make some improvements to the ship. But it was an obvious excuse to stay with Tech and take care of him. You hated the idea of leaving him alone, especially in these conditions.

Tech lets another frustrated sigh escape and you can't help but copy him.

"Do you need anything, darling?" You ask from your place on the floor where you been fixing some wires on the wall.

"I don't think you can fix my leg. So no, thank you." He answers without even looking away from the datapad.

"Watch your tone, Mister. I know you're upset, but it's no reason to talk to me like that." You use a warning tone and Tech quickly turns to you with a guilty expression.

"My apologies, dear." He says in a softer voice this time. That’s more like it."I didn't mean to sound so rude. It's just that I'm so..."

"Bored?" You suggest.

"Frustrated. But ‘bored’ also works."

You shake your head slightly, getting up to go to him. Tech's mind it’s never quiet, it wasn't a surprise that he was so antsy. His good leg kept bouncing up and down nonstop while he was reading. You were afraid that at any moment he was going to snap and rip out his own cast.

You put one hand on your waist, using your other forearm to prop yourself against his chair to get a good look at what he was reading. From this angle you can finally see that It was a medical article about the speed of regeneration of a broken femur. You couldn't blame him for his impatience.

Luckily, the Batch managed to find a pair of crutches for Tech, but he could barely get around with it. So most of the time Wrecker helped him move around the ship. Tech also needed help when it came to showering and getting dressed, and as happy as you were to help him, having your independence taken away is something horrible.

"I should be out there helping or at least doing something useful. But I'm here, being a dead weight for the team." He complains, letting his body sink against the chair.

You frown, tugging slightly at his ear. Tech does a little “ouch” sound and rubs the bruised skin with his hand. "You know that's not true. Everyone's glad you're okay. I'm glad you're okay. We just want you to rest now."

The proof of your words was right there. His leg was on a small stool, resting on a pillow that was given by Omega as a way to make him more comfortable. The whole Batch wanted to sign his cast - Even Cid wanted to be a part of it. Omega's name had little stars doodles. Wrecker's was the one that occupied the largest space with an imitation of an explosion around it. Hunter's was accompanied by a small drawing of a skull while Echo's was only his name written in blue. And of course, yours was accompanied by hearts.

He sighs, nodding with his head. "You're right. It's just that this reminds me of Kamino. Clones that didn't heal fast enough were sent to maintenance work or just... decommissioned.”

You can feel the weight in his words. You can't even imagine what it's like to be discarded so easily. Clones were considered replaceable, so it was likely that several of them were thrown away just because the Kaminoans didn’t have the patience or empathy at all.

"Well, this isn't Kamino. You have all the time you need to recover, we'll still be here when you’re done." You pass your fingers through Tech's hair, feeling him relax with your touch.

"Thank you." He gives you a small smile, closing his eyes for a moment and breathing deeply as your hands continue to caress him.

"At least I'm here to keep you company." You say. "I can take a break for now. We can play Sabacc, what do you think?"

He seems to consider your proposal, but he gives up quickly. “I've played 5 times with Wrecker. And 4 of Denjarik with Omega. I still don't know how she always manages to win." The last part was definitely a blow to his ego. "Besides, I want to do something with my hands. Something constructive."

"Well, I can’t carry you around like Wrecker. But maybe I can bring you something to work on?"

"No, stay here. Please." Tech tilts his head back, staring at you with his big brown eyes behind his lenses. His hand pulls the hem off your blouse gently, making a silent request.

You could never say no to him.

You lean towards him until your lips met. The angle is a bit awkward, but the kiss is deep and sweet. He lets a deep sound slip from the back of his throat, something needy for more. You need to hear it again.

One of your hands holds the back of the seat to keep you balanced, while the other goes to his face, stroking his cheek with your thumb. This time it’s you who let out a low moan as his tongue invades your mouth, exploring it eagerly.

A shiver runs through your body as Tech partially lifts your blouse, the cold air of the ship hitting the skin of your belly. But soon his warm hands are on you, grabbing everything they can reach. His calloused fingers sending shockwaves through your nerves.

You feel them creeping up your ribs, coming too close to your chest and you know where this is going. You hold his wrists, moving his hands away from you. You already miss them. "Hold on, baby." You sigh. "You're still hurt."

"But it's been so long since we've done anything." He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, raising his forefinger in the same way when he’s about to explain something. "Exactly 3 weeks, 4 days and 16 hours."

You roll your eyes without being able to contain a smile. But it was true, it's been a long time. Between missions and taking care of Omega there was not much time left and no privacy to do something more intimate.

You stare at the cockpit door, mulling over what to do next. You probably had a few more hours alone, and the Batch used to let you know when they were on their way back.

"All right, but we need to be quick. What do you want to do, pretty boy?"

His face lights up, as it always does when he gets something he wants. "On the control panel, I want to touch you."

You chuckle, starting to take off your clothes with the confidence of someone who has undressed more than once in the cockpit. "So when you said you wanted to do something with your hands you were talking about me?”

You lean against the control panel, just in your underwear, feeling the icy metal bite your backside. You put one leg on his lap so he had better view, being mindful of his cast. He can’t turn fully in your direction because his extended leg, but it is good enough. "I'd rather do you than anything in the galaxy."

You hate how flushed you get just from that. You're still not used to this kind of sweet talk and how it makes your insides turn. "Really smooth." You mock him, pushing him slightly on the shoulder."Come on, I'm freezing here."

Tech fix his goggles once more, giving you a mischievous smile before starting. His palm moves slowly along your calf to your thigh , blooming chills along it’s path. He stops when his fingers bump against your panties, toying with the hem.

"I missed that." Tech whispers, leaning over to kiss the inside of your leg. "I missed you."

"You see me every day." You try to joke, but your voice gets breathless when his fingers start approaching your core.

"You know what I meant."

"I don't know if I quite follow. Can you show me?" You bite your lip, giving him a playfully look.

You can see the desire burning in his eyes. The way his pupils are dilated behind his lenses. How heavy his breathing gets. Tech doesn't bother to pull your panties to the side, his thumb stimulating your clit over the fabric while his other fingers cupped your vulva.

You moan softly, your hips moving in sync with his hand, searching more for that feeling. But it's just enough to keep you on edge. It's not what you need to scratch that itch.

"Tech, come on." You pull the last part with a whimper, to close to begging already."Give me more." It’s really been a while, you didn’t notice how needy you were until now.

"I enjoy taking my time, dear. You know this better than anyone." He says while applying a little more pressure to your throbbing clit.

You let out a breathless laugh that quickly becomes a moan. "I think what you enjoy is to torture me."

Tech doesn’t deny it, only giving you a small smirk. But he finally gives in to your pleas, his fingers entering your panties and stroking your folds.

"You're soaking wet." He says the obvious with a smug look.

The answer on the tip of your tongue disappears when he penetrates you with one finger. You let out a silent scream, holding his arm to ground yourself. Tech begins to move it slowly, letting you get used to the stretch. But it’s not enough and soon you’re begging again.

The second digit comes shortly after, throwing you in the borderline between pleasure and pain. Tech watches you closely in the same way he does his experiments. You can't help how even your ears get warm under his insistent gaze.

You feel your leg start shaking, trying it’s best to keep you standing while holding your weight on it’s own. Your free hand grab the edge of the control panel, stopping you from falling.

Tech rotates his hand, causing his thumb to brush against your clit every time this fingers thrusted deeper, hitting your spongy spot. The wet sound of skin against skin fills the cockpit, being only overcome by your loud moans.

“Take off your bra. I want to see you.” You think you would do anything he asked as long he didn’t stop.

With one shaky hand you pull up your bra, your tits jumping out of its confinement. Tech watch hungrily as your breasts bounce with each movement. He lick his lips before giving the next order. “Now touch yourself.”

You do as you’re told, pinching your already hard nipple. You decide to give Tech a good show, since you knew he liked to give extra attention to them during sex. You pant softly, sweat running down you temples as you pull and pinch your nipples before soothing the tender skin.

You stare at Tech's parted lips in a greedy way. You wanted to ravish them, to kiss him until you two were out of breath. But the angle didn't allow that at the moment. You're content with his fingers moving inside you for now. More than content actually.

"Are you close, dear?" You can hear his voice through the hum of your ears, nodding your head weakly. "Good. Just relax and come for me."

That definitely wouldn't be a problem for you. You chant his name while your orgasm is ripped from you, making your legs tremble with the intensity. Tech continues with the deep thrusts, prolonging your high until you’re too sensitive. Your head falls back as your chest rose with every breath.

You put your other feet on the ground for balance, both still fragile with the aftershocks. Your heart melts a little inside your chest when you realize the way Tech looks at you. Like you're the most amazing thing he's ever seen.

"You're beautiful." He mumbles.

You cover your face with a grunt. "You can't say that kind of thing while you have two fingers inside me."

"Oh, my apologies." He finally seems to realize that he's still deep inside you, pulling his fingers out slowly. You hiss softly, felling empty all of a sudden."I must say, it definitely helped me get less anxious." Tech says while analyzing your juices in between his digits.

You shake your head at him. Tech was sometimes unbelievable.

Your back complains about being in so many strange positions for so long, but you don't hesitate to duck your head to capture his lips again. Tech looks surprised, but returns the kiss quickly, pulling you to him.

You squeeze him over his pants, making him moan against your mouth. You could feel the hard line of his cock against your palm, applying a little more pressure to hear his desperate groans. Unconsciously, Tech tries to move his hips against your hand, causing a painful grunt from him.

Your eyes widen and you stop immediately. "Are you okay?" You'd hate to have to explain to Hunter that Tech got more hurt during sex. That you shouldn’t be having… because his femur is broken. Kriff.

"I'm alright, don't worry. I just moved my thigh in the wrong way." He tries to pull you for another kiss, but you push him gently against the chair.

“Relax, pretty boy. I will be taking it from here.”

You push away his good leg just enough to get in between them. The ground is cold against your knees, but you're more focused on what comes next. Tech watched you closely as you unzip his pants, pulling his cock out. He was throbbing in your hand, a drop of precum dripping down his head.

You always though Tech had a nice dick. It wasn’t very thick like Hunter or Wrecker, but it was quite long. He always managed to reach that sweet spot inside you that drive you crazy. You almost want to try to ride him, but you couldn’t risk hurting Tech or broking his cast. So that was a idea for another time.

Your fingers close around the base of his cock, letting your breath ghost along his shaft. Tech whines with the tease, pushing his hips in your direction.

You place a hand on his waist to keep him in place. “Stay still for me, love. I don’t want you getting hurt.” He just nods in agreement, desperate for you to continue.

Oh, but you don’t have the heart to tease him for too long. He has been so good to you. You want to give him whatever he asks for.

You stroke him a few times, his cock craving for the attention. You lap at him, taking your time as your tongue explore him slowly. You stare at him, drinking from every sweet expression of pleasure on his face.

Your lips wrap the head of his cock, felling his taste invading your mouth. You start bobbing your head up and down, going deeper each time.

Tech places a hand on your nape, not forcing you down, only resting in there.

You love how vocal he his during sex, but in moments like this, when your mouth is around him, Tech can hardly form a word to save his live. Just letting out broken praises and little pleas. It’s like song to your ears.

This time, it's his moans that reverberate through the walls. You want to smile satisfied with yourself when you hear his little whines every time you suck a bit harder, but that would mean having to take your mouth off Tech, and you wouldn't allow that.

When he hits the back of your throat Tech starts speaking gibberish.“If you keep it up like this I’m going t- Oh maker.” You take him deeper, hollowing your cheeks. His face scrunching in pleasure.“Please, it’s been a while, I c-can’t.”

"I don't want you to hold back, love." You stop for a moment to catch your breath, but keep stroking him with your hand. You fold his balls with the other and it’s cute how hard he’s trying not to move his hips. Without any warning, you go down on him again, leaving Tech in a speechless mess.

Tech gives a weak moan before coming, filling your mouth with hot strings of cum. You close your eyes, savoring his musky taste. You keep milking him until he's totally spent, humming around him before removing his soft cock from your mouth.

You make sure he’s watching while you swallow and lick your lips. You rest your head against his thigh, smiling sweetly at him.

"Feeling more relaxed now?"

He strokes your head, letting out a deep breath. "Oh, Yes. Definitely. Thank you, dear.”

“You know I’m always happy to help.” You rise from the floor, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Do you think you'll be okay while I go take a shower?"

He nods, eyes half closed. “Yes, I will be here waiting for you.” His voice is sleepy and you can see how hard he’s trying not to fall asleep.

You give him a sympathy look, petting his hair. “Go take a nap, I will be back in a minute.”

You have enough time to clean up and finish fixing the ship. No one suspects anything when they return with a crate full of supplies. Well, except Hunter, who gave you a quick side eye.

But you couldn't help but realize that for the rest of the day Tech didn't sigh or bounce his leg, not even once. Maybe you found the cure for his agitation after all.

[captainpains]

Rex's Unforuante Talent (Captain Rex x reader)

For the @clonexreaderbingo card. I haven't written for Rex in awhile so when I got the Rex square it felt right.

Promt: Rex

Warnings: gn reader, Being walked in on, embarrassment, swearing, Mentioned Smut, some medical stuff and concussions.

~~~~~~~

Why!

Why can’t Rex learn from his mistakes and just knock!

That was how you ended up in this situation. 

Because Captain Rex can't fucking knock!

He's walked in on everyone!

He's walked in on many people changing (civies, brothers, and commanding officers). He’d walked in on his brothers having fun with some civies. Hell, he's even walked in on Skywalker and Amidala going at it like rabbits. But every time, he'd manage to back out without being noticed by the other party. 

Not this time though.

Rex stood in the doorway to your room, completely frozen. You were frozen too, clutching your towel to keep your decency.

His brain finally registered what was happening after a few long moments. Then, he sputtered out an apology before closing the door to your room. He slapped his hand over his face while he regretted all of his life choices. His face was hot with embarrassment as he did so. He felt horrible. It was made even worse by his little crush on you. 

You weren’t fairing much better, still standing in the middle of your room, mortified. You thanked the maker for your towel, keeping your modesty. Your hands grasped onto it so hard they hurt. The very attractive captain that you saw almost every day had seen you nearly naked. 

It was going to be hard to recover from that.

Over the next few days, Rex avoided you.

It was very noticeable.

He would refuse to deliver datapads to you, something that he’d happily volunteer to do before. He actively walked as far away from you as possible, even going as far as to switch what side of the hallway he was walking on. The worst part was his avoidance of the medbay, where you worked. He would always avoid going before, but after you started working there he was less reluctant to go. Now, he would fight to high hell to make sure he wouldn’t have to face you.

Days turned into weeks, and the rest of Torrent company took notice of their captain’s odd behavior.

“So… Cap’ain. Are you gonna tell us why you’re avoiding your favorite medic?”

Rex flinched at Jesse’s question, gripping his datapad a little tighter.

“Now that you mention it… you two have been acting suspicious. What happened?” Fives asked next.

“Nothing happened,” Rex gritted out. 

“Really?” Kix interjected. “Because my best medic has also been avoiding you. So, what happened, Captain?”

“Nothing!” He barked out defensively.

“It can’t be nothing if you're avoiding each other.” Jesse argued. 

“Did you finally confess? Did you get rejected and now it’s awkward?” Fives pressed, hungry for an answer. 

“No.” The captain growled out, frustrated with his noisy troops.

“Then what?”

“Hey, if he won’t  tell us, we can just ask the medic,” Fives suggested.

“No!” Rex barked out, causing his men to go silent. He took a deep breath. Fives and Jesse leaned in eagerly. 

“I… walked in on them, naked…”

There was a long moment of silence. Then all hell broke loose. 

Kix was in shock, mouth slightly ajar. Jesse was in hysterics, and Fives was asking more questions.

“Rex’s unfortunate talent strikes again.” Jesse managed to say between fits of laughter. 

“Did you like what you see?” Fives asked.

“You have no sense of decorum, do you? I will not disrespect one of our medics by talking about them in such a way. I will also not make them uncomfortable with my presence.”

“So, you’ll avoid the medbay for the rest of the war?” Kix raised his eyebrow in challenge. 

“Yeah, you’re being unreasonable. You have walked in on everybody. I know you have a crush on that medic, but this is ridiculous.” Echo chimed in from his bunk.

Rex glared at his troops. But he knew they were right. So he finally decided to make an effort so it would be less awkward between you. 

So, while you were walking to the medbay, Rex managed to get you to stop.

“We need to talk.”

You nodded and followed him to a remote corner not far from the medbay. You fidgeted with your hands as you tried to find the words to speak.

“Look, I-”

“I’m just-”

You both gave an awkward laugh. Rex reached up to

“Listen,” Rex started, “I’m really sorry for walking in on you.”

“It’s alright. It was an accident.”

“Yeah… The boys call it my unfortunate talent.”

“Really?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Really. I have walked in on so many people I’ve lost count.”

You chuckled lightly at that. Rex smiled a little at your reaction, happy that the tension was fading a bit. 

“I’m really sorry for walking in on you… And then avoiding you for a month afterwards…”

“I’m sorry for avoiding you too.” You apologized.

“Go back to normal?”

“Definitely.”

—---------

Apparently, back to normal was harder than Rex thought.

That pesky little crush prevented him from being normal about seeing you basically naked. He felt bad about it, but he couldn’t help thinking about all of the little freckles and scars that he saw on your skin. He wanted to run his hand along every inch of your body.

“Umm… Rex?”

Rex snapped out of his little daydream. He sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck while you looked at him.

“Sorry…Was thinking about all the paperwork I have to do.”

“Well, right now, worry about answering my questions about your health.”

Rex nodded.

The last mission was rough. There were a large number of casualties. Rex himself was pretty injured with a large gash in his left side. You were testing him for a concussion. 

“What is your name?”

“Rex.”

“What is your rank?”

“Captain.”

“What is the name of the general you serve?”

“General Skywalker.”

“Any throbbing head pain?”

“Kinda. In the back of my head.”

You made notes as he answered the questions. His concussion wasn’t too bad. But he certainly shouldn’t be staring at datapads for hours.

“Alright, Captain-”

“You're very pretty.”

You looked up at Rex. He was looking at you, completely serious. He was looking you directly in the eye.

“Flattery won’t get you out of bedrest, Captain.”

“Worth a shot.” He replied with a shrug. “But…It is true. You are very pretty.”

“Thank you…” You shyly mumbled.

There was a long pause, only filled with the buzzing of others in the medbay. Rex took a deep breath and decided in that moment to ask you out. Maybe he was concussed.

“Alright, Rex-”

“Do you wanna have a drink with me sometime?” Rex asked, boldly. 

“What?” You dumbly asked, taken off guard.

“I wanna get a drink with you. Like a date…”

You smiled softly at the captain. It hid the tightening in your stomach and the the clamyness of your hands. You had a little crush on Rex, but never in your wildest dreams did you think he’d be asking you out.

“I would love to, Rex.”

“Wizard.” He muttered.

“Still won’t get you out of bedrest.”

“Damn it!”

[cosmic-ships]

Shenanigans

Ships: Starbound Companions (platonic) // Beyond Us; Only Darkness

Words: 583 (small and incredibly silly! NOT CANON to my lore, this is just for funsies!)

Summary: You really need to watch your surroundings Kaden-

Kaden sat in a quiet corner, staring down at their datapad, a soft sigh escaping their lips. Their mind wandered, thoughts swirling dreamily around a certain Jedi Knight. Completely unaware of their surroundings, Kaden didn’t notice Obi-Wan approaching.

“A sigh?” came the voice of the Jedi Master, startling Kaden so badly they nearly launched their datapad across the room. They scrambled to pull it into their lap, cheeks burning as they stammered.

“N-Nothing!” Kaden said loudly, trying, and failing, to sound casual.

Obi-Wan crossed his arms, his brow raising. “I didn’t ask anything.”

Kaden blinked, fumbling for words. “R-Right…”

“But now,” Obi-Wan continued, a spark of curiosity in his eyes “I am curious. What had you sighing like that while staring at your datapad?”

Kaden bit their lip, shaking their head. “It’s nothing…”

Obi-Wan’s gaze didn’t waver. “Your cheeks say otherwise.”

“I promise, it’s—”

“Something tells me it’s Anakin-related isn't it?” Obi-Wan asked with a knowing look.

Kaden groaned, burying their face in their hands. “You'd be… correct...”

Obi-Wan’s lips curled into a smirk as he shook his head. a playfulness in his tone as he asked “Does he know that you fawn over him like a schoolgirl when he’s not around?”

Kaden’s head snapped up. “I was not fawning!”

“Oh?” Obi-Wan chuckled. “So the dreamy sighing and love-stricken doe eyes had nothing to do with whatever you were staring at?”

Kaden’s face flushed deeper. “You’re not going to… tell Anakin, right?”

Obi-Wan looked amused. “You’re joking? If I do, he won’t be silent for the rest of the month. I’d rather not.”

Kaden exhaled a shaky sigh of relief. “Thank you…”

Obi-Wan’s smirk widened. “Or perhaps I will. As you’ve both asked in the past, where’s my sense of adventure?”

Kaden’s eyes widened. “Wait… hang on…”

“I shall see you later, Kaden,” Obi-Wan said with a mischievous glint, turning on his heel.

Panic bubbled up as Kaden scrambled to follow him. “Wait, you won’t say anything, to Anakin right? Right?! Hey, wait!”

The two rounded a corner, and Kaden nearly collided with Anakin, who stood there, arms crossed, a curious expression on his face.

“Say what to me?” Anakin asked, looking between them.

Kaden froze, their words dying in their throat. All they could manage was a high-pitched squeak.

Anakin's brow furrowed as he eyed the both of them, clearly sensing the tension. "What exactly is going on here?"

Kaden swallowed hard, trying to force down the panic rising in their chest. They glanced at Obi-Wan, silently pleading for him to stay quiet. Obi-Wan simply raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the moment, finally the tables were turned.

"Oh, nothing important," Obi-Wan said with a shrug, but there was a playful glint in his eye. "Just a little harmless fun."

Kaden, still frozen, shot him a desperate look. "Uh, y-yeah, totally nothing worth mentioning." They forced a smile, but it came off more like a grimace.

Anakin tilted his head, his confusion deepening and his expression growing suspicious. "You two are acting strange. Spill it."

Kaden’s heart pounded in their chest as they fumbled for an answer. "It’s really nothing, just...uh...m-maintenance talk! Yeah, repairs and stuff." They waved their hand vaguely as if that would help sell the lie.

"Maintenance talk?" Anakin repeated, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. "You expect me to believe that? When you can’t even look me in the eye? Kaden you're many thing but a liar is not one, you're not very good at it."

Kaden looked down at the floor, feeling the heat rising to their cheeks again. "It’s… complicated," they muttered.

"Complicated, indeed" Obi-Wan added with a smirk, clearly enjoying Kaden’s flustered state. "I’ll leave you two to sort it out."

Kaden’s eyes widened as Obi-Wan turned to leave. "Wait—no, don’t go! Don’t leave me here-" Kaden muttered under their breath "crap.."

[anxi-writes]

Swerve

Swerve frowned as he swirled around the last of the energex in his servo. The bar had been running out of energex at an alarming rate lately. Usually, he had more than enough energex to last until the ship’s next stop. But apparently not this time.

“Alright, time to get more I guess, even though we shouldn’t be this low on energex, I guess it’s just an unlucky day or week? Ah- anyways I’m going to go off to the storage room to get more,” Swerve said to no one in particular before departing to the storage room for more energex.

He was uh rather shocked to say the least when he opened the storage door to find you. You were sitting on the floor, leaning against a pile of bottles for support. You giggled as Swerve’s jaw dropped at the sight of you. You gave him a definitely-not-sober grin before chugging an entire bottle of energex in a sitting.

“Y/n! I don’t think you should be having that- it’s not safe for human consumption at all from what I’ve seen and read. If you wanted alcohol so badly I could’ve got some for you-“ he was cut off quickly when a carton of energex threatened to fall on top of you. He quickly scooted over, guiding you away from your spot. You just laughed as you replied with what could barely be considered words.

“Oh primus, are you okay y/n? Not just from that box almost falling on you, like don’t get me wrong that would still be bad, but how is your… stomach feeling? I- Magnus is going to kill me or even worse Ratchet,” He added on, continuing to ramble further before you interrupted him by tapping him on the leg.

“Pshhh, I am perfectly fine and perfect,” you commented, stumbling around a little bit, “Plus, It can’t kill me, I’m not hic mortal”

Swerve stopped talking, his mouth hanging open once again. It didn’t take him long to shut his mouth and to start talking again though, “You’re immortal? Like a superhero from one of those comics you humans have? Can you grow your limbs back-? Is that a silly question? Ah forget it”

And so your hazey drunken mind had to answer all of Swerve’s questions whilst the bar wondered where their bartender had wandered off to.

Rung

Rung tweaked his newest model kit, adding on details he missed during his last session with his client. He glanced at his datapad, it blinked with a reminder that you would be coming in for your weekly session. He smiled gently before bringing his attention to the door. You were on time for these sessions, claiming that you needed every minute you could get to let out your frustrations.

So it alarmed him when 20 minutes passed in human time and you hadn’t yet arrived. He frowned slightly, he had already sent you a message ten minutes ago. It was strange. First, the energex from Swerve’s bar had suddenly started disappearing. Now you were late to your appointment? It worried him.

He walked towards your room, pausing when he noticed the ajar door, “y/n? Are you alright?”

No response of any kind. Maybe you were too caught up with your friends and had forgotten to shut the door? Rung’s hand hovered over the door knob, unable to stop his optics from pondering into your room. Lucky for him you happened to be in there. He smiled softly as he gently pushed open the door.

“Y/n? You’re late to our session and I was wondering if you decided to cancel at the last minute-“ He quickly stopped talking once he realised the situation you were in. You were half laying off your bed with a bottle of cybertronian alcohol. He quickly rushed into your room, closing the door quietly behind him. You could barely comprehend what was going on before the bottle in your hand was missing and was instead in Rung’s servo, “Oh gosh..”

You pouted as you realised the last of your drink was taken from you. Rung lead you into your bathroom, urging you to purge into the toilet or sink. He was saying things like “this isn’t good” and “we’re going to see Ratchet” among other stuff. It took all of your remaining strength to pull away from him and put on a semi-serious face expression.

“Cybertron alcohol is sooo good- don’t take this away from me Ruuuung,” You begged him, your cheeks flushed from all of the alcohol. It didn’t seem like you were getting through to him. This probably looked like self destructive behaviour to him after all.

“I am not being s-stuped! You see, I am, not.. mortal!” You announce to him with jazz hands before managing to pass out. Rung caught your unconscious form as he took a few minutes to process what exactly was happening. You were immortal? You never mentioned that in your therapy sessions. He would have to bring it up when you recovered from your eventual hangover.

[vibratingskull]

"Could I request a one-shot where Thrawn has feelings for reader/you and makes things go so that the two can be alone?" - @straighteye-cartoonfan

Thrawnxgn!reader

"... We will need to intercept them before they reach the nebula."

The grand admiral Thrawn is once again exposing his genius plans before the battle and you're diligently noting everything on your datapad. You've become very quick at typing, which saved you more than once when it came to reports. One could say you don't pay attention, barely raising your head from the screen but on the contrary, you're never as much focused than when you're typing. 

"If they ever were to reach the nebula, we will send the Flensor and the Shyrack after them. At the same time the operations on Tyrahnn will continue. Governor Pryce you could go on the terrain to supervise the troops, Admiral Konstantine you will aide her from orbit, commander Faro you will guide the Chimaera to Tyrahn, and Skerrys I want you and your pilots ready for an intervention at any given time .”

You’re typing at the speed of light, not losing any crumbs of information. You finally raise your head from the datapad to observe the chiss. You had so much admiration for him, for his genius. The fact that a non-human achieved such a high rank was a testimony to his talent and hard work and it inspired you to work even harder and give yourself at 200%. You hug your datapad against your chest, eyes on the blue man finishing to give his orders.

“You’re dismissed.”

You stay quiet, not knowing what to do. Everyone got their orders and headed towards their duty but he didn’t mention you. Speechless you look at him unmoving, waiting for his next words. You knew your duties very well but he specifically asked for your presence at this meeting, you assumed he had special orders for you too. 

“Captain (y/n)...” He says looking at you.

You straighten your back, ready for anything to be thrown at you. He observes you in silence a moment and you can’t discern what his gaze mean, you squirm uneased. 

"Come with me."

You release a breath you didn't know you were holding. He's not angry with you, what a relief. You follow him to his office where some refreshments have been brought. You sit down on the chair he designates to you, still hugging the datapad. 

"I noticed you tend to note everything down during meetings." He starts. 

"Yes ! It helps me with my memory." You laugh nervously. 

You know he values competences over everything and confessing this little weakness makes you a tad uncomfortable. 

But he shakes his head with a grin, leaning against the desk, close to you.

“I could use those reports you write. You should give them to me so I can keep a tab on all that is said during those sessions.” His tone is low and soft, almost fondant.

You frown, you thought records existed for that very reason. But it not your place to question a Grand Admiral. What he wants you will give to him.

“Of course, Grand Admiral. At what address should I send them?”

“You will put them on a datacard and come give it to me… each… evening…” He answers, detaching each word. He’s fully towering you, devouring you with his glowing eyes.

You must have hallucinated because you thought you saw him lick his lips. That’s silly of you, of course he didn’t.

“As you wish, Grand admiral.”

“Indeed. As I wish…”

You look up at him.

“I’m sorry?” you inquire with innocence, or is it naïvety?

He smiles, flashing you his canine for a second before walking away from the desk and circling you. Suddenly the light lowers in a subdued atmosphere and holograms of pieces of art start lighting up. 

“Tell me (y/n), what do you think about art?”

Ah, yes! Art! His favorite fancy. You don’t have to think too much.

“Well I’m far from being an expert but I’m open to having my horizon broadened. I do like art if it is what you're wondering.”

He reappears with two glasses of Chandrilan ravaa, handing you one with sparkling eyes.

“Oh (y/n), we have so much to talk about…”

@Bluechiss, @Thrawnalani, @justanothersadperson93,

@al-astakbar

[lightwise]

TBB S3 E10 Reaction

Life has been a bit busier the last few weeks so I am finally catching up on my episode reactions (I’m determined to do all of them this season!) And I apologize y’all, this episode made me very snarky apparently.

I’ll be honest. When this episode first came out I was nowhere near as surprised by it or horrified by it as reviewers seemed to be. Nothing about Palpatine hunting down force sensitive children as experiments and using Cad Bane to do it is a surprise, and the Vault feels so much like Andor. But even on a rewatch this episode holds up so well and honestly just starts to give a cold chill under the skin as the quiet horror of it sinks in.

- Cute kid. And the Batch nowhere to be seen. This is going to be a different episode isn’t it

- Oh no. He’s force sensitive 😫😫😫 hmmm how could that possibly go wrong

- This is giving Andor vibes 👀

- It’s always interesting seeing “regular people” in Star Wars and little markets and how they’re just trying to go about their daily lives.

- Don’t go around snitching people! Nothing good ever comes of it!!!

- Yeah this guy is worse than Timm from Andor. Wtf dude. You’re turning in a baby!!

- Also is it just me or typical Star Wars “houses” end up being pretty dark and depressing?

- Wait okay okay. So this is the CX chamber. Why can’t we see any of them yet 😩😩 what is this red fog? What are these weird conditioning pods? What kind of armor is on this datapad?? *trying to crawl inside my screen* I NEED ANSWERS JENNIFER!!

- “Do you trust me?” Ooooh why do I think that’s going to come back around

- But also, babygirl, I don’t think you actually know what you’re signing up for

- “I could be more useful” “you wish to be the new chief scientist Dr. Karr?” “I believe I’ve earned it.” Alright. This. This is interesting. This fully encapsulates the dynamic that these two have shared. Emerie knows that Hemlock only values things that are useful, and probably only sees her own value in the light of what she can contribute, due to how she was raised and the circumstances she has been trapped in. Hemlock’s tone of voice implies that he has never considered her as being the new chief scientist, and yet he acquiesces quite quickly, almost as though he’s just too busy to think about it and if it means things are brought back up to production standard then he’s fine with it. His utter disregard for Emerie as an actual human and someone with merit is disgusting though.

- But I get it, the man’s busy, he’s got a lot of evil shit he’s trying to do all at the same time 🙄

- So we have “the assets”, which is the area that Hemlock took Palpatine in the first episodes, where the orange containment pods are and the zillo beast is being kept. We still don’t know what those assets are. The Vault is something different.

- Well. Shit. It’s Andor and Narkina 5 for kids. Lovely 😳💀

- “There are few adults left with such characteristics” I WONDER IN THE NAME OF ONE EMPEROR PALPATINE WHY

- Okay so this entire exchange is awful. The kids are so cute! Hemlock is so cold. “Specimens. Assets” ughhh Emerie what are you getting yourself into!!

- Is this the first time we’ve heard the word glasses in Star Wars?

- Oh no. So THIS is why Cad Bane was brought back 🥺🥺

- The score in this episode is perfectly eerie

- Lol Todo is not good with kids huh 🤣

- That poor mama when she wakes up and finds her baby is gone

- I hope that dude has his entire life flash before his eyes as he’s trying to pick all of those credits up

- “My name’s Eva” 🥹🥹🥹 Emerie has no idea how to handle this 😂

- I still wanna know what’s happened with these commandos. No way a clone of Jango Fett is able to look a child in the eyes, call them a “specimen” and not have even an ounce of remorse as they stun them point blank.

- “Jax?” And Eva just points. The power in knowing someone’s name vs a dehumanizing number

- It’s also interesting that these kids are species that are red, blue, and green, and when they get Bayrn in, he’s white. RGB colors make up white light when put together.

- The little peeks of Emerie’s backstory we keep getting are so interesting. She was abandoned by Nala Se. She knows that these children don’t belong here, the same way that Omega told both her and Crosshair that they didn’t belong here either. Nala Se says that the Empire will hold these kids to control them. Emerie feels like she has no power to do anything differently. So much to unpack here.

- Why is Tarkin’s holo so large?

- Lol I honestly love getting to see the backbiting politics of how the Empire functions. It’s so bad and so funny

- Also love that Project Necromancer is so secret that even Tarkin doesn’t know what it is. He’s so nosy

- Okay why does he bring up the CX schematic again and why is it so different than the one we saw earlier??

- Whoa Cid was tortured???

- “The other operatives aren’t ready to join you in the field” why????

- We’re visiting a lot of space stations this season

- Man I wish Emerie had fudged this test

- Nooo let the poor baby go home 🥺

- Oh and now we’re putting kids in solitary confinement. Great.

- C’mon Emerie. Keep clicking that moral compass until it points north

- She kept the straw Lula. She’s giving it to Eva 😭. There’s hope for her yet

[motherroam-rs]

Sleep Deprivation

Relationship: Hunter x Reader

Summary: In the search for Omega, Hunter struggles to sleep and needs a push to get some rest.

Warnings/Tags: Sleep Deprivation, Angst, Comfort, uhhh I think that’s everything

Word Count: 1.2k

Notes: The first 3 episodes have me in a chokehold, I wanna see Hunter happy again - Here’s a super short angsty lil comfort fic for Hunter set just before the beginning of episode 2 🫶🫶 Apologies for any grammatical errors!

Every noise in the Marauder seemed louder with just the three of you in it. Any hum, beep, and sigh seems to be amplified, even Gonkys small movements seemed to echo through the empty space just as loud as Wreckers snores.

Though, it’s not the only change. The ship seems too big now, and it’s hard to remember a time where it was so over-occupied that you would all fight over who got to sleep in a bunk for the night, and who had to use a sleep mat on the floor. Durasteel walls that previously made you all feel like fish packed together in a can, now seemed to stretch out impossibly, making it seem that you were planets away from the ships other two occupants.

Currently you’re sat in the co-pilot chair, preoccupied with your glitchy datapad, attempting to send an encrypted message to Echo for any updates from the clone network. You’re biting down on a sigh at how you wished Tech were here to fix it for you when Wrecker nudges your foot with his own.

You look up, puzzled at the man but your silent question is answered by the attempted jerk of his head. Behind you both sits Hunter, staring abysmally at the control board of flashing lights with his fist tightened around a horn from Roland Durand. The lights cast a harsh shadow on his features and your lips can’t help but work themselves into a frown at the dark circles beneath his eyes.

It had been well over 24 hours since he last slept.

Glitchy datapad now abandoned, you give a quick nod in thanks to Wrecker, before leaving the cockpit to approach Hunter. His chair doesn’t turn, and despite his enhanced senses and the lack of noise in the ship to cover your steps in any way, he gives no indication that he’s heard you. You follow his line of sight to both Tech’s goggles and Lula, both of the items bringing a pain to your chest.

“Hunter?” You press your hand to his armored shoulder, and he finally turns to look at you, slightly startled and you can’t even recall a time that you’ve ever caught him so off guard. Now that he’s facing you, the exhaustion is evident in more than just the dark circles under his eyes, his body seems to slump against the support of the chair in some sort of emotional defeat.

He’s been running himself into the ground over the last few days in pursuit of the Pyke needed in order to get the lead you had all been after, but at least you and Wrecker still managed to somewhat take care of your basic needs of sleep and rations.

Before you can speak, he turns back towards the controls, as if sensing what you were going to say about the neglect to his sleep schedule.

“Tech made this all seem… easy.” Gloved hands gesture to the console of flashing lights, his throat bobbing with a dry swallow as he shakes his head. “All of it takes me twice as long as it took him.”

Hunters hand pinches the bridge of his nose, the same way he does when he has an oncoming headache and your hand presses to the unarmoured section between his shoulder and neck, an area that is usually covered by his scarf. At the touch, his eyes close and lips part with a soft release of breath.

He needs to sleep.

“Come to bed, Hunter.” The whisper echoes through the too-quiet ship, amplified like every other noise, and for a moment it looks like he’s going to refuse. He doesn’t speak, but gives a slight nod of his head, and brushes your hand away to stand and begin removing his armor as he follows you on the way to your shared bunk.

After so long of racing to be the first one on the Marauder after a mission to secure your own bunk for a night, there was some sad irony in the fact that you now couldn’t sleep alone. Following the loss of Tech, and the painful absences of Omega and Echo, all attempts to adjust to the atmosphere of loneliness on the ship were almost painful.

At the start, you think you barely managed a standard 8 hours across 3 full day cycles, let alone in one night, and your restlessness didn’t go unnoticed by Hunter, who had probably slept even less than you. On the fourth night of staring at the ceiling and trying to muffle your quiet crying in the too-silent ship, he had abandoned his bunk beneath you and climbed into your own. His arms allowed you the comfort of not grieving alone that night, and almost every night since.

At some point, it delved into more than simply finding comfort in each other so you could both sleep, sending you far enough past the line of friends for Wrecker to tease you both in an attempt to lighten the heavy atmosphere in the Marauder.

Now only wearing the lower half of his blacks, Hunter lifts himself into the shared top bunk, and offers you a hand up, immediately pulling you into him once you’re safely up. In the small confines of the bunk, you’re entirely pressed to his firm body, yet he still holds you tightly against his bare chest as if fearing you’d slip away the moment his eyes closed.

He’s pulled the thin blanket over you both, but with the heat of his body it’s more than enough to keep you warm. “We’ll get her back.” You murmur against Hunters chest in assurance as one of his hands pulls your leg across his own, entangling the two of you together.

You feel his hand twitch against you, “It’s been a long time, and we still don’t know where she is, the only lead we can get right now is by handing over a Pyke to the Durand family.” His voice is heavy with exhaustion and you crane your neck up, lifting yourself from his chest to place your hand on his stubble covered jaw, forcing him to look at you.

“We’ll get her back, Hunter, but you need to sleep.” You lean in to press a kiss to the lips that seem to have set themselves into an ever present frown since that day on Ord Mantell.

Hunters hand presses to your face to mirror your own, his other arm tightening around your waist protectively as he kisses you back. Even when you pull away and rest your head back on his chest, his fingers continue to trace slow patterns on your waist, still refusing to let you go as he gives in to his tiredness.

You wait for his breathing to slow, ensuring he’s asleep before you allow yourself to close your eyes and follow him. In the night, you dream of living together in a house on Pabu, where the only echoing noise is Omegas laugh, where there are no empty spaces to make you feel lonely, and where Hunter can finally rest.

[breakfastteatime]

Today's request is 'I feel fluffy' for @ledeni-tm ^_^

Cal becomes aware of faint music. Wait… is that his alarm? How long has it been going off? He’s late for his shift. Swearing, he jolts upright, heart pounding in his chest. He can’t miss the train.

A series of cheery beeps greets him. Cal jams the heel of his hand into his eyes to clear them. Where is he? It’s not his or Prauf’s apartment. Wait, did he stumble into Tabbers’ old place? It’s only one floor down, next to Spicer Paulie’s place… Blinking hard, his dim surroundings come into focus.

Metal. Lights. Ceiling. Workbench. Engine?

Oh. Right. Not Bracca. Never again Bracca. He hasn’t been there in months. He’s on the Mantis. He’s on the Mantis, BD’s beeping at him to see if he’s alright, and Cal’s music plays from his headphones on the pillow because he’d had a migraine, taken some medicine from Cere, and laid down in the engine room, convinced he wouldn’t fall asleep.

Always good to prove yourself wrong.

What day is it? How much has he slept through? Cal’s adrift from reality.

Heart rate slowing, he runs his hands through his hair, feeling it fight off gravity. Whatever. The lighter it is, the less weight presses down on his tender skull. The worst of it the pain is gone now. He just feels like he could sleep for another day. Maybe he will. Maybe –

BD chatters away about what he’d been up to during Cal’s nap – exploring the ship’s vents, checking on their friendly bogling companion, chatting to Cere about where they’re headed, annoying Greez… Cal listens with half an ear. He’s… hungry? No… nauseous. He’s nauseous. Wait, hungry and nauseous. Is that a thing? He rubs the back of his neck to alleviate the ongoing ache, stands, and plods down the hallway. The lights are too bright, so he turns back, grabs his poncho, and pulls the hood over his head. Better. He heads into the galley, bumping into the doorframe because he’s lost all coordination.

“Hey, there he is! Look who’s alive!”

Cal grunts. Greez is too loud, happy…everything. Greez is too everything.

“Oh, kid,” Greez chuckles. “You look like something a bantha dragged in. Go on, go sit down, you’re too pathetic to tease. Cere, our Jedi’s wilting.”

Cere’s in the lounge, datapad in hand. She slides over, makes space for Cal and BD on the couch. She looks up at him. “How are you feeling?”

It’s a good question. He’s not sure what the answer is. “I fell asleep,” Cal eventually announces.

“Might not have woken up yet,” Greez adds.

Cal squints at him, wishing the lights could go off. “Huh?”

“Oh, wow, kid, you are out of it.”

“Leave him alone, Greez,” Cere says. “Sit, Cal.”

BD gives him an extra push when Cal fails to move.

Cal flops down next to Cere. “Head doesn’t hurt anymore,” he says. He smiles. It feels so good for his head to be loose and light like this. Mostly. A few thuds keep knocking around, but they’re dulled by all the wool packed around his brain. “This is the, uh… the…” What’s the word he’s looking for? The after… the later… the hang…

“Postdrome,” Cere says. “A migraine hangover.”

“Sure. That.” Cal tips back in the chair. He sighs. “I feel fluffy.”

“Yeah, you look it too,” Greez says waving a hand around his own head.

What Cal wants to say is ‘I can pull it off’. What comes out of his mouth is “I ate it off”. Not even BD can hold in his laughter.  

“I’ll put the caf on,” Greez says. “Clear that fog of yours.”

Mortified, Cal slumps over onto his side, tugs his hood fully over his face, and pulls his feet onto the couch because he doesn’t have his boots on. Probably explains why his feet are so cold – holes in his socks. He should fix those. He should…

“…you think, Cal?”

It takes a moment for Cere’s words to reach Cal, and even then, he doesn’t really understand. “Huh?”

Cere looks at him sympathetically. BD shakes his head and sighs. Greez, thankfully, is distracted.

“Don’t worry,” Cere says, reaching over and running her hand over his back. “Relax. We’re not in a rush to do anything.”

It’s not true. Their mission is critical… although if the Second Sister dropped in right now, Cal would be completely incapable of defending himself. He pictures her boarding the Mantis, expecting a fight, only to find him bootless, with raggedy socks and his poncho hood pulled so far over his head he resembles a bog rat. The image makes him laugh.

“Do we wanna know?” Greez asks.

“Bog rats,” Cal says.

Greez sighs dramatically. “We broke him.”

[ghostofskywalker]

could you do a ficlet of platonic cody and obi-wan’s padawan? i don’t have any plot ideas, i’d love to see what you come up with something fluffy<3

oh i love this idea!! i hope you enjoy this :)

words: 853

summary: in an attempt to get his general to actually take a break, commander cody recruits help from obi-wan's new padawan.

clone troopers masterlist

Operation: Rest and Relaxation

You were surprised when you received a communication from Commander Cody asking you to come see him, and you were even more surprised when you stepped onto the bridge of the ship to not see Obi-Wan standing with his commander. “What can I do for you?” you asked Cody, Waxer, and Boil as you walked over to them. You were still a fairly new addition to the 212th, after your previous master died in battle, you had been reassigned to finish your Jedi training under Master Kenobi. You got along well with the troops, but you wouldn’t consider them your best friends. 

“Would you agree that the General needs to take a rest?” Boil asked, as he and Waxer exchanged looks. “I think he almost fell asleep eating a ration bar this morning.” 

You nodded, immediately agreeing with them. Obi-Wan Kenobi was many things, but attuned to his own self-care was not one of them. “I’ve tried to get him to take a rest,” you said. “But he never listens to me.” 

“Then I think it’s time we take matters into our own hands,” Cody said. “We’re scheduled for a leave in two rotations, so we’ll be able to execute a plan without worrying too much about getting called to battle.” 

You nodded. “So, does anyone have any ideas? This isn’t going to be easy.” 

***

Despite all the time you spent planning with Cody, Waxer, and Boil, it seemed like nothing you tried worked in getting your Master to take a kriffing nap. You swiped his datapad while he was eating dinner one day so that he couldn’t keep battle planning even while you were on leave, and he had an extra one hidden away. You asked him to work with you on your meditation skills, and the whole time you sat and tried to get him to meditate with you, his thoughts were so loud that they were pushing their way into your head, and that clearly wasn’t working. 

Every night, you met with Cody on the bridge, and neither of you had any success. “I think at this point we may have to kidnap and sedate him,” Cody said. “This can’t be healthy.” 

“It isn’t,” you agreed. “And one day he’s just going to shut down.” 

“And it’s not like we can lock him in his quarters like I do with the rest of the men,” Cody grumbled. “The kriffing Force gets in the way.” 

You laughed, but understood the commander’s disappointment that there wasn’t one simple answer to getting Obi-Wan to go to sleep. 

It wasn’t until another rotation had passed that progress was made, even though neither you nor Cody were directly responsible. Wrapped up in the exhilaration of leave (and the beer at 79’s) being so close, Waxer and Boil started a company-wide disc blaster fight in the hallways of the flagship one day, and Obi-Wan had gotten hit in the crossfire. Not expecting to step into a zone of all-out warfare, he was accidentally tripped and fell to the ground. 

It was nothing bad of course, a sprained ankle and a little bruise on his arm, but to you, it might have been a gift from the Maker. You accompanied Cody to the medbay to see him, where Obi-Wan was currently attempting to convince a medical droid that he was well enough to be discharged. 

“You need to rest Master,” you said, and he turned to you with an exasperated look on his face. “Take some time to heal, and to catch up on sleep.” 

“Your padawan is right sir,” Cody cut in, shooting his General a look that he had often used on his brothers when they refused medical treatment. “The galaxy will be just fine if you take a nap right now.” 

Obi-Wan looked like he wanted to say something in response, but eventually he just sighed. “Fine,” he said. “But if anything happens, I want to be woken up and informed about it.” 

You nodded, knowing full well that 1) nothing was going to happen on the journey back to Coruscant, and 2) even if something did happen, you weren’t going to wake him up unless the galaxy was ending. Cody had a look on his face that proved he was thinking the same thing, and yet you both smiled and assured the General that you would let him know. 

 The two of you headed back towards the bridge of the ship as one of the medical droids gave Obi-Wan another bacta patch, and you shared a small laugh once your master was out of earshot. 

A comfortable silence settled over the two of you as you walked, and then Cody spoke up. “I’m getting a cup of caf right now, do you want one?” he asked. 

“That’d be wonderful, thank you commander.”

He smiled as he stepped away towards the lounge. “No problem kid. And call me Cody, alright? You’re one of us now.” 

“Alright Cody. Thank you.”

As he walked away, you couldn’t help but feel glad that you had found a place here, and that you had made some new friends.

- the end -

[elthadriel]

💜 surprise kiss / impulsive kiss for maze/zey? :>

Zey drags his boots on the mat outside the door, scraping wet mud from the soles. He taps his keycard on the panel and steps into the warmth of their apartment and out of the rain. He pulls off his dripping coat, hanging it up beside Maze’s. Maze must have got back before the weather turned because his is still dry, while Zey was caught unprepared in a coat made for the cold but not the wet. His shirt clings to him in damp patches around the collar where his coat had become too saturated to protect him.

He sighs, putting down the grocery bag to sit on the small bench by the door. He removes one boot and then the other. His hair and beard are soaked, only adding to the unpleasant dampness of his coat.

The floors creak as he moves through the apartment, and he finds Maze exactly where he expects him to be. They work out of the office downstairs, but they have a desk seat up in the apartment too, and it sees almost as much use. Maze looks up as Zey enters, but the caution is habit, it’s clear in the Force that he already knew who it was from Zey’s boots on the stairs.

He’s had another attempt at fixing the desk’s wobble, wedging several folded sheets of flimsi wedged under the back left leg.

“Anything I should know about?” Maze asks.

“Kasi’s alibi held up, but something feels off about the whole thing.” Zey has had nothing but bad feelings about the whole job. Zey nods and says nothing, though he more than trusts Zey’s instincts. “Oh, and I picked up some more caf.” He holds up the bag.

Maze grunts a thanks, but doesn’t look up again. He’ll be done working for the evening, trading in police reports for his latest haul from the library. Zey will prompt him over dinner, and Maze will gladly provide a lecture on whatever he’s been reading about.

They’ll need to eat soon, but he’ll change first. He’ll leave Maze to read.

“Zey.”

He turns back with a questioning sound.

Maze puts down his datapad. He doesn’t turn it off—he intends to be right back to it—and stands. His presence is a strange thing. Zey is familiar with him, understands the subtleties of his emotions despite how well he shields himself. He’s certain in the way he usually is but there’s something else that Zey doesn’t know what to make of. He doesn’t dig to try and make sense of it. Maze has never asked him not to look closer than the surface stuff Zey can’t help but see, but that’s only because he’s never had to.

Maze steps close, close enough that they’re almost touching. They’ve been closer, but there’s a deliberateness to it that’s thick and heavy.

Zey is damp from the rain and holding a grocery bag and Maze is going to kiss him.

There’s plenty of time for him to step away—they've been carefully stepping away for years—but Zey…

Maze closes the gap but Zey twists his head to make it easier. Hair from Zey’s beard gets between their lips but neither of them act to fix it. It’s over as quickly as it began.

It felt like the most natural thing in the world. It’s almost impossible to believe they’ve never done it before.  

Maze considers him, and then gives a small nod. He steps away again, walking back around his desk.

“Why now?” Zey asks, voice coming out rougher than he expects. They’ve been edging around for almost as long as they’ve known each other, since some unknowable moment during the war. They’ve built something here, a business, a home, perhaps a life.

Maze leans back in his chair, considering that answer as carefully as he considers everything. He’s clever in a way few people are, his willingness to take his time making him cleverer still.

“You should have taken your other coat,” he says at last. “You warned me this morning to keep an eye out for rain.” 

Zey follows Maze around his desk, cupping his jaw and tilting his head up. He kisses Maze again, lingering this time until Maze’s mouth turns up into a smile under his.

There's a dark spot on Maze’s collar from where Zey has dripped onto him.

“I’ll start dinner,” he says. “I’ll call you when it’s ready.”

Maze’s smile is still there, as small and achingly familiar as always.

[rebelrainfall]

Hello @imsfire2, here’s a short fic for your rebelcaptain trees prompt “Jyn and K-2 caring for Cassian or bonding over their loyalty to him” 💕💕

***

“Jyn Erso.”

As always, K-2’s voice is entirely too loud for the space, and Jyn glares at him as it echoes in the room, the handful of other rebels working near her looking up at them both in confusion.

“K-2S0,” she says, imitating his intonation as she looks back down at the text on  the datapad in her lap. She doesn’t ask why he’s here. If he needs something from her he certainly won’t hesitate to tell her.

“Please come with me.”

Yes, there it is.

“Come where?” Knowing K-2, this could mean anything, from a summons to the council room for an assignment not unlikely to kill her, to a tool that he needs having rolled under a table he’s too tall to reach under. (And if it’s that second thing, again, she’s not unlikely to kill him.)

“Cassian’s quarters. It’s important.”

K’s concept of importance can be rather relative, but Jyn sets aside her datapad and stands up anyway. Even if it turns out this isn’t truly important, she’s more than ready for a break from her work and Cassian’s bedroom in, after all, her favourite place to spend an evening.

K-2 has much longer legs than she does, forcing her to take two steps for each of his to keep pace with him as they make their way across base toward the sleeping quarters, but Jyn manages.

“What’s so important, then?” She asks as they go.

“Cassian is under a high level of stress. You have to come and kiss him.”

“He’s always under -- what?”

“I said, Cassian is under a high level of stress. You have to --”

“No, I heard you, but I don’t understand. You came to get me, because you want me to kiss Cassian?” He’s hardly seemed to appreciate it before, making loud, passive-aggressive remarks every time she and Cassian have dared to be affectionate in his presence in the few wonderful months since the nature of their relationship changed. Jyn had assumed it made him uncomfortable.

“Yes.”

And he seems to consider the matter settled, but -- “Why?” 

“I told you, twice. He is stressed, and I am concerned for his well-being.”

When Jyn only continues to look at him, awaiting further explanation, he gives some approximation of a disappointed sigh. He seems to think that’s all the explanation she should need. Clearly, Jyn is behind somehow.

“Cassian is in a bad mood,” he begins, slowly like he’s explaining something to a child, “And when you kiss him, his mood improves. Therefore, you should come and kiss him.” 

Well. That does make some measure of sense, in a very K-2 sort of way.

“You’ve been keeping track of this?”

“It is a clear and consistent pattern. You make Cassian happy. I can appreciate that.”

The words make something warm grow behind Jyn’s ribs. She knows, of course, that Cassian enjoys her company, that he likes her affection. But it’s something different to hear it from K-2, K who couldn’t tell a lie to save his life, who knows Cassian better than any other being in the galaxy.

Before she can come up with some way to answer, K-2 turns off from the main corridor and into the almost-empty mess hall. Jyn’s confusion only lasts a moment before she realizes he’s on his way to the kettles at the back of the room.

“It’s very cold in his room, and he hasn’t had enough to drink today,” he explains as he pours hot water into a thermal cup, ignoring the pot of caf that would only further aggravate Cassian’s stress levels. 

“You’re a good friend, Kay,” Jyn says, smiling slightly at the wave of affection she feels for this ridiculous, aggravating droid. So, maybe they don’t always get along, but she can’t help  but be fond of him, if only for the love he has for the man she loves.

When they arrive at Cassian’s room Jyn can see immediately that K-2 was right. Everything in Cassian’s expression and posture speaks of exhaustion, both mental and physical, but still he’s sitting at the desk that’s so terrible for his back, staring at documents in a language Jyn can’t understand like they’ve personally hurt him. Really, they may well have.

“I have brought you hot water,” K-2 announces as he lets them into the room.

“Thank you, Kay, that was thoughtful of you,” Cassian says, though he doesn’t look up from his work.

“Jyn Erso is also here.”

At that, Cassian does look up, and his expression softens a shade.

“Hi,” he says. “Did Kay really go out and fetch you? I told him you were busy…”

“I’ll be going, now,” K-2 says abruptly, and Jyn huffs a laugh. He still isn’t a fan of their affection in his presence, then. He shuts the door on his way out, leaving the two of them in the quiet room.

“I heard you needed some attention.” Jyn reaches a hand out toward his datapad, and Cassian lets her take it without resistance. She sets it on a shelf out of his reach, and drapes herself unceremoniously across his lap in its place. It earns her that soft smile that makes her heart stutter, and she nuzzles affectionately into his neck.

“That droids loves you so much,” she murmurs, reaching up to comb her fingers through his messy hair. “And so do I.”

“I’m a lucky man,” Cassian says, and presses his lips to her forehead.

She could melt into him so easily, but she hasn’t forgotten she has a job to do.

Pulling him down with her grip on his hair, Jyn does what she was told and kisses Cassian, deeply and lovingly because if K-2 thinks she can lower his stress levels, she’s going to do it.

An hour later, watching Cassian sleep peacefully in her arms, she’d say it worked.

K-2 really isn’t so bad.