#arf trooper hound | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

imarvelatthestars · 10 months

Text

Fireworks

Pairings: Sergeant Hound x f!Reader

Warnings: none! just 4.9k words of tension & cuteness

Notes: Hound's appearance was inspired by some very cool art by heidiss on twitter. I also dropped a quick reference to @samspenandsword Fox series, The Coffee House, which truly sold me on being a Fox girlie.

You feel borderline sick. Thirty solid minutes of chasing down your sweet, stupid, panicked massiff from the local park to, well, wherever in the Sith hells you are now and not only do you feel close to collapsing, but your chest is tight and aching from adrenaline and anxiety. He’s a good boy, really, he’s such a sweetheart and he can be so fun and friendly once he gets to know someone, but Jaxjo’s also easily startled. The two of you have been working long and hard on soothing strategies for when he’s overwhelmed, for warming up to and trusting well-meaning strangers, but this day has gone from bad to worse in a matter of hours.

Some blocks down the (mercifully) mostly deserted walkway, you can see Jaxjo’s rump as he darts under a bench after a speeder zooms too close for his comfort. It hurts your heart to see him so worked up, but it’s also sending you into a spiral. What if he gets really scared and gets lost? What if he lashes out at someone and you have to put him down? What if another speeder comes by and he jumps out and everything goes horribly wrong and he gets hit? What if what if what if what if? Maker, you don’t want to lose your little boy. He makes your life so much brighter and happier. What if-

Another firework goes off, another problem to add to the already substantial list, and you feel your eyes start to pinprick along the waterline. Why not add a grounded explosion? A Separatist attack, maybe? A mugging? Just make a night of it! And then, as if you weren’t already at your wit’s end, you catch a flash of plastoid armor, white and red and gray, and your stomach plummets to your feet.

Jaxjo doesn’t see the Corrie at first, he’s too distracted by the remnants of fireworks sparking out overhead, but the Corrie sees you. Of course he does. Him and the other trooper doing rounds with him. You notice their helmets tilt and twist a bit, probably to allow for a conversation as they consider why you’re out in a back alley all by yourself at dusk.

You ignore the troopers. You whistle as loud as you can in that specific way that only Jax could recognize and start jingling his leash, and thank the Maker, it works! His head jerks to the side, tongue lolling out, and his body language softens for a moment. Sweet boy, he’s still so scared, but he knows his mom, he knows you mean safety.

“C’mere, boy!” you call as encouragingly as you can despite your throat threatening to close up on you. “Jax, c’mere!”

The Corries have stopped their patrolling and are now fully watching you. One of them, the one on the right with the strange looking helmet, has his arms crossed over his chest. This probably means they’ve decided you’re their evening entertainment or they’re lingering to see if you need help. Maybe? You haven’t interacted with enough troopers to accurately gauge what’s going on under those helmets.

“Sorry!” you shout across the street, a hand pointed in his direction. “He’s just scared of the fireworks!”

As if on cue, another one lights up the steadily darkening sky and the resulting boom is loud enough to rattle you down to your bones. Jaxjo whines loud and low. Then another firework goes off and your massiff goes bolting out from under the bench. He scrambles into the middle of the street, throws his head back and forth with the whites of his eyes on full display, and for a moment you think that he’ll come running right to you and you can finally take your boy home, but he barks, shivers like a leaf in a storm, and takes off at full speed, fangs bared. He’s zeroed in on the Corries. Oh Maker, no.

“Jaxjo! Jaxjo, no!” All logic goes flying out the window. Every special cue and direction you’ve learned to keep both him and yourself calm, it’s gone in an instant because it’s like your worst nightmare come to life. He’s going to attack one of the troopers and then you’ll have to put him down, probably even get fined on top of it and put on some ‘incompetent massiff owner’ list that’ll ban you for life, and and-

The trooper in the strange helmet steps forward. He’s not afraid of Jax’s growling, even though he really should be. You’re sprinting forward as fast you can, heart in your throat, whistling and shouting, and the trooper just holds out his hand and speaks. You don’t know what he says, but it’s like a switch flips in Jax’s brain. He stops mid-stride and just stares. Another firework goes off and Jax starts rather violently, but he doesn’t run.

It’s like you’re watching some kind of nature holo and this Corrie trooper is the reincarnation of Stirwin Eve. Within a matter of minutes, Jaxjo has crawled his way to the trooper’s feet and is cowering into his shin guards while the trooper gently pats his back. It’s magic, plain and simple.

You’re so stunned that you don’t even know what to say. You know something comes out of your mouth, some vague approximation of awestruck thanks, but you’re hardly aware of it. All you can think about is the fact that your boy didn’t go wild and bite a member of the Coruscant Guard and that he’s not going to get transported to the pound and put down because of your own stupidity.

The other trooper, the one whose armor looks more like what you’d expect, clears his throat. “You really should keep him on a leash, ma’am, especially during a fireworks display. It’s not safe to have massiffs off-leash in the city.”

A streak of irritation flares up behind your eyes, but you manage to swallow it with a smile, albeit a forced one. “Unfortunately, he broke out of the park earlier and I’ve been trying to catch him for the last half hour.” I’m not usually inclined to letting my anxious wreck of a massiff free when the mood strikes, is what you want to say. You opt for biting your tongue instead. “It won’t happen again, sir.”

The first trooper finally looks up at you. It’s quite the sight – a big anxious massiff, a Corrie squatting down next to him and offering treats and pets, and that strange helmet that keeps throwing you for a loop. He doesn’t say anything. He’s definitely looking at you; you can feel the weight of his gaze even through the visor. It’s compelling enough that when he extends his hand and wordlessly asks for your leash, you hand it over without a fight.

Jaxjo is quickly clipped on by his harness and the leash is returned to you loop first. The trooper pats him once more, then stands, and it hits you then just how intimidating a figure he cuts in the lowlight. The kama, the broad shoulders that bear his dark gray armor, the blaster rifle hanging from his free hand, the jagged triangles carved into his helmet flaps that look oddly reminiscent of massiff fangs, and the streaks of red over the crown of his head, it’s all a reminder that before you stands a soldier and officer of the Chancellor’s forces.

For kriff’s sake, he answers to the fucking Chancellor. You’re so damn lucky right now, you ought to get down on your hands and knees and thank every star in the sky that Jax didn’t completely lose his mind!

“Thank you.” The words sound strangled and foreign. “Sir. Uh, s-sorry, sir. It was an accident, it won’t happen again.” You vaguely recall already saying this, but it doesn’t hurt to reiterate. “Thank you.”

Five minutes later, you’re left standing under a streetlamp with a citation and leash in one hand and a serving of treats in the other. Jaxjo tilts his head back to look at you properly and whines.

“I know, buddy, I know.” Your head is starting to spin and the fireworks are only going to get worse. “Let’s go home.”

The knock that shatters the comfortable silence of your mid-levels apartment the next day sends Jaxjo into a barking frenzy. “Just a second!” you shout, although if you’re even audible is doubtful. You manage to get him into your bedroom after a bit of finagling and the barking only continues, but this way it’s at least manageable.

“Maker, I’m sorry,” you start as you press the door controls by the entry, “he gets all worked up with strangers and-”

You’re met with an eyeful of gray chest armor and massiff fangs painted on to a helmet, a hint of a vision screen under the red and white visor. Oh.

The two of you size each other up for a long moment until the trooper finally speaks and you feel some kind of dread curl up in the pit of your stomach. “I’m here for a follow up on your citation last night, ma’am.”

“I... wasn’t aware I needed one.”

The helmet tilts ever so slightly to one side. “It’s standard procedure for massiff incidents.”

At the risk of sounding repetitive - “I wasn’t aware there was an incident, sir.”

It’s one thing to be given a citation for having a massiff off-leash. You can understand that, even if it sucks. But to basically be insulted in your own home? That’s an entirely different story.

There’s a huff in between Jaxjo’s barking that accompanies the Corrie’s shifting body language. One of his hands settles on his right hip and he dips his chin a bit, perhaps to look at you more directly? “If I could come inside, ma’am, I’d be able to explain better.”

“I’m not under arrest or something, am I?”

And you could almost swear you hear him laugh, but that would be ridiculous. And rude. Impertinent, even. “No, ma’am. Now may I come inside?”

He’s tall. You noticed it last night, but you notice it again when he’s able to stand in comparison to your furniture and appliances. And he’s fucking built, too. I mean, it’s ridiculous. His thighs alone are enough to make you do a double take. Not that you’re intentionally looking, of course, but you do have eyes. They almost bug out of your head when the helmet comes off.

It strikes you then that you’ve never seen a clone without their helmet on, not up close. You’ve always been aware of a flash of brown skin and usually dark hair from what you’ve caught on the news or when you happen to pass by the barracks, but Maker, you never thought they looked this good. Angular brows above kaf-colored eyes, a long, broad nose, pursed lips, and a beautifully rounded jaw and chin decorated with greyish black tattoos that echo the massiff design on his helmet. Between that, his dark hair that’s grown just long enough along the top to start coiling, and the thick trunk of his neck, and it’s a wonder you’re still standing. He’s gorgeous.

You’re spared the embarrassment of getting caught oggling him, though (for which you send a prayer of thanks to anyone listening), because he’s busy studying your front room. “Where’s Jaxjo?” he asks. Right. Back to business.

Your head turns in the direction of the alarmed barking that’s slowly morphing into a restless whine. “Uh, he’s in my room. I didn’t want him getting too riled up and slipping out. Why-”

“I’m a specially trained massiff handler. I run the CG’s K-9 unit.” He pauses for a moment to peel off his gloves and toss them onto the back of your sofa where he’s balanced his helmet. You make an effort not to look. “Which means I’m also in charge of handling massiff incidents with the public.”

“But there wasn’t an incident,” you sigh. “He didn’t bite anyone, or hurt anyone, he was just scared. You even managed to calm him down.”

The trooper raises an eyebrow. “As his handler, you should be able to control him yourself.”

And there’s that spark of irritation again, quickly blossoming into a full flame as heat spreads across your face and chest. “I can. I didn’t realize there was going to be an unplanned fireworks display or I would’ve kept him home yesterday. But there was. He got out, I chased him down, and I would’ve been able to calm him down eventually, but you just happened to beat me to it.” It’s not a lie, but it’s not the entire truth either. You’d been worried sick last night about Jax’s behavior. You just don’t want this guy to know that and it’s making you angry.

The trooper’s hands move to settle on his hips as his ribcage steadily expands and deflates. His head is tilted toward the floor as he listens to Jaxjo whine. He thinks for a moment, chewing on the inside of his cheek before finally glancing in your direction once more.

“I’m sure your boy's a good one, ma’am, and I can tell he means something t’ you. But you’re also concerned about his behavior and that means I’m concerned, too.” Can he see right through you? Surely you’re not that transparent. “Why don’t you let him out and I’ll see what we’re working with?”

Woah. There’s no we. There’s you and Jaxjo, and that’s it! However this man is able to see through your frustration and pinpoint exactly what’s bothering you, you’ll probably never know, but just because he’s wearing Corrie red doesn’t mean that he can just waltz in here and claim concern over your massiff’s behavior! You have half a mind to give this trooper a piece of it when his hand reaches into your line of vision and settles on the back of the sofa, just inches away from where your elbow brushes the fabric, and you still. You swallow. You look up.

His voice is gentle when he speaks, thoughtful. “I’ve been working with K-9s for years now. I can tell when something’s off and respectfully, ma’am, I picked up on it from you.”

It’s like the entire planet comes to a screeching halt. You almost can’t find it in you to be mad when he’s speaking so softly. Instead, you feel dazed and more than a little helpless.

“He’s a shelter rescue, isn’t he?”

Kriff, is this guy psychic or something? Maybe he has Jedi mind powers.

“Yeah, uh, I got him from the shelter about a year ago.” Your voice is all congested from the effort of holding back your tears, but the Corrie is polite enough not to mention it. “He’s just scared, that’s all. He was a stray before I got him.”

He smiles a bit, it’s little more than a quirk in the corners of his mouth, but the way his cheeks dimple causes the light to catch on a scar you hadn’t noticed at first. It’s a grouping of three faint, jagged lines that run from just below his eye to his jaw. Massiff claws.

“I’ve worked with ones like him before and they’re not lost causes. I might be able to help,” he prompts. His brows have angled upward and it gives his entire face a softer look. “May I?”

Jaxjo whines again and starts scratching at the door. He’s a good boy, really. He tries his best. He just has some issues you haven’t been able to figure out yet. It hurts that all the work you’ve put in over the past year hasn’t fixed it all like you thought it would, but now there’s an opportunity to make things better. Someone who knows more about massiffs than you do and is willing to help.

In the end, though, is there really any question? You’d do anything for your little guy.

You nod and offer the trooper a half-hearted smile. “Sure. Thank you.”

He’s amazing. They’re both amazing. Hound works hard and Jaxjo works even harder, and you’re truly proud of them both. It’s been nearly three weeks now of retraining and reinforcement. Jax has learned that some people are safe, people like Hound and his fellow troopers in the Guard, he’s remembered that even when he’s afraid, you’re there to protect him, and most important of all, you’ve learned that the Coruscant Guard isn’t as bad as you always thought it was. Even if they technically work for the Chancellor.

It’s also been three weeks of seeing Hound in a new light. He charmed the pants off Jaxjo and without even meaning to, he’s nearly charmed yours off into another dimension. Maker, he’s funny and smart and incredibly patient. He has this specific way of smiling that’s reserved and comforting, and it never fails to make your heart race, even if he’s just smiling at another massiff. And despite all his strength and the intimidating aura his armor, tattoos, and scars give off, he’s really one of the sweetest people you’ve ever met.

So of course, you had to go and fall for him. Of all the inconvenient, idiotic, irritating things you could’ve done, you just had to catch a glimpse of the man beneath the persona and decide that he was the one you wanted. Stupid. In what world would he ever fall for you, the woman who was a nervous wreck upon your first meeting, the woman who couldn’t properly train her own massiff, the woman that he only met because his buddy had to give you a citation? Not to mention, the man is so handsome that he’s painfully out of your league. He ought to be arm candy for some rich holo star or a beautiful senator, not, well, you. It’s a lost cause. Totally doomed.

You want to ask him out for kaf. There’s a place about five minutes from your apartment that makes the best kaf on the planet and the owner’s known for being friendly with the clones. (You’re pretty sure her name is Beanie, but that could be just a rumor.) Hound’s bound to be the most comfortable there, it’s in a public area so he doesn’t feel trapped in your place and you don’t have to track him down by the senate or the barracks. It’s a great idea and you know if he says yes that it’ll be a nice time. You hope, at least. You really, truly hope it will be. You’re just not sure that he’ll say yes.

It takes the entire training session for you to work up the courage to ask, which only serves to distract you when you should be paying attention. Your mind keeps wandering to every possible ‘what-if’. What if he says no? It’ll be embarrassing and he might not help with Jax’s training for much longer, but you’d be okay in the end. It wouldn’t kill you. What if he says yes? Well, you’ll probably forget how to speak and make a fool out of yourself, but it’s nothing he hasn’t seen already. What if he ditches you at the café? What if he shows up? What if he enjoys himself? What if you enjoy yourself? What if your hands touch when you reach for the napkins and he looks into your eyes and then he leans in and-

“...ink your buir’s stopped paying attention, eh boy?”

Jaxjo wiggles his rump and snuffs in Hound’s direction, which is enough to properly pull you back to the present. You blink the romantic haze from your eyes and give your best apologetic smile; Hound simply laughs.

“Sorry, just thinking. I’m paying attention, I promise.”

You receive a disbelieving eyebrow arch in response. “Must be serious. You’re not usually this distracted.”

You take a moment to compose yourself before you blurt out a goofy response. The last thing you need is to spill the beans before you’re even sure if he notices you’re a woman. So you watch the way Jaxjo forces his snout under Hound’s palm, how his tongue lolls out over his fangs and his eyes perk up when Hound gives him a good scratch by his ear hole. He’s so good with him. You’d even go so far as to say -

“You’re good for each other.”

That sends both of his eyebrows rocketing up. “Yeah?”

Your heart goes all warm and fuzzy. Dumb. Stupid. Embarrassing. Crush. Dammit. “Yeah. He responds really well to you and I can tell you’re really good with him. He trusts you.” I trust you, is what you leave unspoken.

“Well, he’s got a good role model,” he says after a moment. “I hope you’re not trying t’ give him to me because-”

“No! Kriff, no, of course not. I just... I dunno, I noticed.”

Hound smiles and his dimples go straight to your heart. “He’s a good boy.”

“He is.”

The room goes quiet apart from Jaxjo’s panting and the wild thumping of your heartbeat. He probably can’t hear it. Probably. Sure would be embarrassing if he could. Or if he could see it jumping out at your throat. You lay your palm flat against it just in case.

“Is that what you were thinking so hard about?”

“Yes” is what you mean to say. “No” is what comes out.

“Then what?”

You gesture vaguely. “Oh, just...” Anything, literally pick anything! The flexing of the muscles in the back of his hand catches your eye. For kriff’s sake, anything but that! “You’re probably gonna be leaving soon, once he’s properly trained.” Okay, okay, that’s good. Viable excuse. Good job. And then your mouth runs away with you again. “And I’ll miss having you around.”

Death would be a less painful option than whatever fresh hell your current reality is. You make a frantic attempt at backpedaling by clarifying that you and Jax would both miss him and all the very professional advice and help he’s given you, but the more you speak the more your ears start to burn and you start to fold in on yourself. This is quickly turning into a transport wreck and there’s seemingly nothing you can do to stop it.

Normally Hound’s laugh would be enough to make your cheeks burn and your stomach go all fluttery, but right now it only makes you feel like an idiot. You squeeze your eyes shut, focus on being a totally normal person who knows how to have a totally normal conversation.

“Heh. Sorry about that.” Like you just bumped into him in the lift or you accidentally cut him in line. You can’t look him in the eyes. Totally normal. “My tongue got all twisted up. That was silly.”

Jaxjo whines when Hound steps around him. You’re close to whining yourself, you’re so embarrassed. You want to go hide in the bathroom for ten minutes and simply never speak to another soul ever again. Surely that will solve everything.

“What d’you think, Jax? D’you think your buir’s being silly?”

Hound’s smiling that terribly fond smile of his and you know he’s looking at you, trying to catch your eye, but you refuse to glance any higher than his nose. That beautiful nose. You’re not sure why it does something for you, but it certainly does. You can’t help wondering what it would feel like pressed into your cheek if he kissed you.

He takes another step and now he’s standing right in front of you, towering over you, the breadth of his shoulders taking up your entire field of vision. He’s so close that you have to tilt your head back to look at him. Except you’re not looking at him. There’s a spot on his cheek where one of his scars meets his tattoo that has your attention.

“What does that mean?” you ask. “Buir?” It’s a poor replication of the way he says it.

“Parent. Mom for you, cyar’ika.”

Maker, why is his voice so soft all of a sudden? And he’s so close! You can smell his cologne, musky and masculine, and it’s so intoxicating that you have to fight to keep your eyes from rolling back. What is this man doing to you?

“Do you think about that often?”

When did your throat get so dry? “About what?”

The lump in his throat bobs when he swallows. “Me leaving.”

Danger! Danger! There’s a siren going off in the back of your head. All that bravado you’d been saving up since the start of the session is oozing out of your ears. He’s getting way too close to the truth of the matter and now that he’s there, you’re not sure you want him to know. You’re sure he’s just playing with you now and it should make you mad, it does, but then... he smells so good and his skin looks so soft and you really, really like him, and won’t he just give you a chance? Would that be so bad?

“No.”

“Are you sure?” Hound’s exhale hits your cheeks. “Because I’ve thought about it.”

He doesn’t mean it the way you do. He can’t. You want him to. Does he?

A surge of adrenaline gives you enough courage to look up through your lashes and properly gauge his expression, and you swear your knees go weak at the sight of his pupils blown out and his brows knit together in the softest expression he’s ever made. You might even venture out to say he looks nervous.

“I’ve been dreading the day he doesn’t need me anymore.” His voice is trembling a bit, but its timbre is low and rough and that stunning accent of his seems thicker now. “Then I won’t have an excuse t’ come see you anymore.”

Oh. The realization hits you so hard that you have to take a step back, lean into your sofa to keep from toppling over. He wants to be here, he comes to see you on purpose. He... likes you? The way you like him?

Your hand settles at the hollow of your throat as you attempt to find the words to express yourself. “Hound, I... I hope I’m reading you correctly. I mean, I hope-”

“Do you need me t' spell it out for you?” he breathes.

Fuck, maybe you do. You nod. “Maybe?”

He smiles, his cheeks dimple, your stomach devolves into flutter-bys as he rests a hand on the sofa backing right by your waist. He’s caging you in, slowly but surely. You’ll let him. His scent and his chest fill your senses as he crowds around you until you’re completely pinned to the furniture and the only other place to go is into him. Your mind starts racing because he’s so impossibly close and he’s even more beautiful, and what if he can feel your stomach against his, what if he can see your every pore and stray hair, and what if he likes you and what if he doesn’t?

“I’d like t' kiss you.”

Finally, blessedly, you smile. “I’d like that, too.”

His touch is feather-light on your cheek, but you can still make out the callouses lining the palm of his hand, the scent of leather and sweat and blaster residue. Jaxjo huffs. And then Hound kisses you. He’s warm and soft, just like you imagined he would be, and the taste of him is pleasant. There’s a hint of kaf lingering on his lips that you absently chase after with your tongue, but he takes it as a cue to open up for you. Your tongue stutters for a moment and he starts to pull back once he senses it, but you can’t let him pull away, not when this is everything you want, when he’s here and willing and so, so sweet.

Your hand cups the back of his neck as you surge forward and sweep your tongue into his mouth, up and over his teeth until it rubs against his and he sighs against you. It’s all a blur after that. His fingers wind up fisted in your clothes and your hands are pressing into his chest, smoothing over his shoulders, rubbing over the shaved section of his hair, and you can’t stop a single one of the happy, contented little sounds that he manages to pull from you.

Until Hound suddenly lurches into you and you both go toppling over the back of the sofa. Hound winds up going literal head over heels and lands in a very undignified pile at the base of the sofa while you end up half on, half off the cushions with your feet dangling over the top. Jaxjo’s happy little face pops up between your ankles. He’s all eyes and tongue and drool, and the very picture of feigned innocence.

You finally find your courage between bouts of laughter when you tilt your head so it’s hanging off the sofa and dare to nuzzle Hound’s shoulder with your nose. His eyes are twinkling when he looks at you.

“Hey,” you chuckle.

“Hey.”

“You wanna know what I was really thinking about?” He nods and you think you feel one of those fireworks go off in your chest. “I was thinking maybe we could go get kaf sometime, just the two of us.”

There’s a spark of mischief in the look he gives you. “What, no Jaxjo?”

You roll your eyes. “Jaxjo, Shmaxjo. I’m not interested in him.”

His hand settles along your jawline, gentle and sensual and blush inducing. “But you’re interested in me, huh?”

“Shut up, maybe I am.”

Hound smirks, probably the first true smirk you’ve ever seen on him. “Good,” he says before granting you another kiss. “I’m interested in you too, cyar’ika.”

“And what does that mean?”

He noses at your forehead and huffs a laugh just substantial enough to stir your eyelashes. “I’ll tell you over kaf sometime.”

prompt: fireworks 🎆✔️

@clonexreaderbingo

taglist: @dystopicjumpsuit

#arf trooper hound #sergeant hound #sergeant hound x reader #sergeant hound x you #hound x reader #hound x you #star wars #tcw #cfb2023 #my first venture into the corries!! i haven't read much hound stuff but i think i did p good!#tried to give him my own twist since i'm not sure what all the corrie guard headcanons are #his appearance is also inspired by barb wire era tem and the fact that i'm a goner for stupidly handsome men with nice hair

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ratcready · 11 months

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BREAKING: an ARF trooper and a medcorps jedi have been arrested in coco town on suspicion of Silly Goofy Activity. more at 10

#i know it’s probably Really Bad News if a clone is caught doing shenanigans in coruscant #A CORRIE GUARD NO LESS #but just. don’t think about it k #star wars #the clone wars #barbie meme #WHY IS THE SATURATION SO LOW #arf trooper hound #ellys vogh

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rare-clone-fic-exchange · 7 months

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The Sweetest Constant

Pairing: ARF Trooper Hound x Fem!Reader

Summary: Sergeant Hound comes to your pet store needing supplies for his new K9. Fluff ensues.

Warnings: None. Hound is a perfectly sweet cinnamon roll who does no wrong and I am taking no questions.

Word Count: 2260

A/N: Written for the amazing @the-bad-batch-baroness! Hope you enjoy it lovely!

A few notes/translations before we start:

Centaxday - second day of the Galactic Standard Calendar week

Zhellday - fourth day of the Galactic Standard Calendar week

Besom - ill-mannered lout, unhygienic person, someone with no manners

It was Centaxday the first time you met. The gentle jingle of the bell as the door of your humble shop opened brought you back from your daydream. You rose from your seat to greet the Coruscant Guard ARF trooper who strolled him. His armor was shiny and unblemished. The kit paint looked freshly applied. His kama possessed no blaster burns yet.

“‘Mornin’.” His warm baritone crackled through the vocoder of his helmet. You couldn’t see his face but you could hear a tinge of excitement in his greeting.

“Good morning! What can I do for you, sir?”

“Ahh no sir, please.” He waved a dismissive hand before it came to rest on the back of his neck. “Sergeant Hound. But just Hound is fine. Gettin’ my K9 tomorrow and I want to make sure she’s set.”

“You came to the right place, Hound! Have a look around and let me know if you have any questions.”

He bounced on the balls of his feet before he stepped away from you, his elation palpable. He had the energy of a child receiving their first pet and you loved watching this grown man trying to reel in the abundance of joy bubbling through the shiny white and red armor.

He tried to appear casual as he meandered through your shop eyeing various pet accessories, treats, and food. You watched him curiously as he ran his hands over a fluffy pink puppy sweater, with all the ardor of an expectant father. You’d only ever seen the Corries from a distance and you were slightly awestruck by his presence. Respectful yet commanding, he walked with a confidence that made him incredibly attractive even having not seen his face. And his obvious excitement about his new K9 may have been the most attractive thing you’d seen ever.

You cleared your throat. “I don’t mean to pry but what will your K9 be?”

He glanced over from the shelves of treats. “Massiff. She’s still a pup. We start training tomorrow.”

You circled around the counter, coming to stand to his right. Even through the armor he smelled wonderful, woodsy and fresh.

“These.” You pointed at a large blue box with a cartoon massif on the front. “These are my best selling massiff treats. Everyone who buys them raves about how much their pooches love them!”

He tilted his helmet toward you before taking the box from the shelf. “Thanks. Any other suggestions?” The lightness to his tone betrayed the smile hidden under the helmet.

You nodded and guided him around the store. Soon his arms were stacked high with collars, leashes, dishes, a training clicker, food, a bed, and the pink sweater, just the right size for a wee massiff.

You packed everything for him in a box and he informed you the GAR would be picking up the bill.

You slumped in your chair once he’d left, overwhelmed by how quickly you’d taken to a man whose face you’d never seen. A face, you’d assumed you’d never see.

It was Zhellday when you saw him again.

The park near your shop was the ideal place for you to take your kima pup; minimal crowds, quiet, and slow paced. It allowed for a slow transition into socializing for your excessively anxious puppy. At least that was the case on most days.

“Grizzer! Grizzer! Stop! Heel! Grizzer, you besom!!”

You spun around, hearing the frantic voice accompanied by enthusiastic yelps quickly approaching you. You snatched up your bitty kima as he trembled like a leaf in the wind. The grinning massiff pup donning a familiar pink sweater came skidding to a halt at your feet. Not far behind was the slobbery pup's handler.

“I am so sorry about her! We just started training and she’s still excitable!” He huffed, catching his breath as he bent over to pick up the leash.

You blinked in disbelief at first. You hadn’t seen his face when he’d come to your store a few days prior. He’d been decked out in his entire kit last time. Today he only had on armor from the waist down and his kama. His broad shoulders and chest were accentuated by the skin tight black body glove with the Galactic Roundel emblazoned on it. Behind the warmth of his brown eyes was a spark that threatened to outshine the galaxy. Those same mesmerizing eyes studied you intently while a bashful blush darkened his ears.

His hair was shaved into a tidy undercut with the extra length tied into a bun in the back. He puffed, pushing the dark curls from his sweaty forehead.

“It’s okay. I get it. Puggle is still pretty excitable too. But…” you held up your own pup. “He’s a little smaller than…Grizzer was it?”

He looked away sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, Grizzer.”

“And you’re Hound, right?”

He chuckled. “You remember me.”

“I couldn’t forget a Corrie who bought his massiff a pink sweater. Looks great on her by the way.”

Grizzer danced around your feet with happy tippy taps and impatient whines. She looked from you to Hound and gave her butt an excited wiggle.

Hound grinned proudly. “Yeah she’s pretty cute. Pink is definitely her color. She loves those treats by the way.”

You beamed at his praise, delving into a hundred questions about how training was coming along and if he needed more supplies. Eventually you bid each other farewell for the second time and you prayed to the Force it wouldn’t be the last.

Days turned into weeks. Whether it was the Force or something more intentional, you and Hound encountered each other with increasing frequency. Sometimes you’d see him on duty patrolling the park where you walked Puggle. Sometimes he was training Grizzer there, half clad in armor, often drenched in sweat under the exertion of handling his enthusiastic massif. If you managed to catch his attention he always gave you a friendly wave. And sometimes he showed up at your shop unannounced. It was always under the guise of making a purchase (always charged to the GAR). But his visits were becoming more frequent and accompanied by fewer purchases. Not that you were bothered. He was divinely handsome, charming, and sweet as chocolate covered camby berries. To say you were enraptured by him was an understatement.

He’d often spend hours leaning against the counter, his bucket casually resting next to him as he chatted with you about anything and everything under the Coruscant sun. He loved telling you about his brothers. Fox and his caf addiction and inability to decompress. Thorn and his penchant for chaos. Thire and his smart mouth that always got him into trouble. Stone’s endless patience and his refusal to engage in small talk of any kind. You loved seeing his face animate as he talked about them, his love and adoration for his brothers was apparent.

He was funny. You often found yourself laughing until you had tears streaming down your cheeks and both of you were gasping to catch your breath through fits of giggles. He was thoughtful as well, volunteering to help with heavy orders or reaching the top shelves. It was those times that your heart fluttered as if it were a butterfly trying to escape captivity. Especially when your hands would brush in passing or he would press into your back, caging you in as he lifted boxes over your head.

However, it was his love for animals that had bewitched you entirely. You’d watched him carefully tend frighted song sparrows and tookas in the park with no hesitation. He’d rescue cornered pikobis so they wouldn’t shed their tails. He even told you about the time he snuck an injured crown finch back to the Corrie Guard barracks and nursed it back to health during his off-duty time with the help of his brother, Stone.

He’d talk for hours about his precious Grizzer. His animated hands gesticulating wildly as he shared story after story about the trouble his “sweet Grizzy girl”- as he called her - would get into. Including the time the rambunctious pup invaded his brother Fox’s footlocker and chewed a hole in the rear end of his body glove. A hole that was only noticed when Thire made a snarky shebs joke at Fox’s expense when he’d taken his kit off for the evening. He laughed as he recalled Fox putting him on ‘fresher duty as payback.

The more he visited you, the more your conversations flowed, and the more you realized you may be falling for him. And then one evening Hound stayed a little longer than usual. You both had been so consumed in each other’s company that it wasn’t until the beeping of him commlink that you both realized how late it was.

“Stang! It’s 1130! Fox is gonna kill me!”

“Kriff! I’m sorry Hound!”

“S’alright! Any punishment I get will be worth it.” The impish wink he shot you nearly melted you faster than the lava flows of Mustafar. “I’ll escort you home. A pretty lady shouldn’t be walking home in the middle of the night.”

He pulled his helmet on and waited patiently as you completed all of the closing tasks before guiding you out the door with a hand that only just ghosted the small of your back. The late night breeze cooled your cheeks that burned hot by just his presence. You found yourself glancing at him and staring just seconds too long. Long enough for him to catch you. You couldn’t see his expression behind the visor of his helmet but the light bounce to his shoulders had you assuming he was chuckling. The conversation in the shop was easy but now you were the only two walking through the little Coruscant neighborhood. The intimacy of walking so close that your hands brushed each other left you wanting for words. You wanted him to know. To know how you felt. You were dying to paint a masterpiece of your feelings on his very soul. And that thought terrified you.

You were so wrapped up in your thoughts you almost missed your apartment, stumbling clumsily to a stop. “This is me.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, disappointed that you’d wasted your time with him.

“Hmm.” He shifted his weight from leg to leg, tapping the toes of his boots on the ferrocrete.

“I’ll…see you around I guess? Thank you for walking with me. And spending the evening with me. I hope you don’t get in trouble for it.”

He pulled his helmet off, shaking his unkempt curls loose. He pressed a hand to the wall behind you, partially caging you in. His eyes locked on yours, holding your gaze with a cocked eyebrow and a smile that was far too alluring. Your eyes flicked from his eyes to his lips, swallowing thickly.

“Don’t worry ‘bout me, princess. I’m the baby brother. Pretty sure I could shoot the chancellor himself and my brothers would cover for me.”

You giggled, instinctively pressing a hand to his chest plate.

Glancing down at your hand and then back at your lips, he smirked, leaning in and stopping just short of your mouth, allowing his breath to fan across your lips. “There is one more thing though, before I get back to patrol duty. Been on my mind all evening.”

“What’s that?” Your breath was shaky as you instinctively leaned closer.

He closed the space between you, pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was soft and chaste while his hand remained anchored to the wall behind you. As he pulled back he allowed his eyes to travel along every inch of you, unable to conceptualize the euphoria he was wading through. You pulled him back, firmly this time. Your tongue teased his bottom lip, seeking entrance which he happily permitted. You swallowed his moan as his hand drifted to your cheek in soft caressing strokes.

When you finally separated, both awash in the glow of the evening and chests heaving heavy breaths, he spoke again. “I get off duty at 0600. I’ll be back and I’m taking you for caf.”

“Charged to the GAR?”

“If we talk about training Grizzer, I can write it off as a work expense.” He gave a cheeky grin.

“And what if I want to talk about you?” You cooed softly, tracing the outline of his chest plate.

“I can still tell Fox it was a work expense. Like I said, I’m the favorite. I’ll see you in the morning, mesh’la.” He slipped his helmet back on and started to leave.

He paused and spun back on his heel, lifting his helmet once more. He grabbed your hand and pressed one final kiss to it before jogging back toward his patrol route.

You’d never gotten ready for bed so quickly. But the sooner you fell asleep, the sooner you’d be seeing Hound again; an event that couldn’t happen soon enough. He was, after all, the sweetest constant you’d ever known.

#rare clone fic submission #rare clone fic exchange #anxiouspineapple99 writes #hound x reader #sergeant hound #arf trooper hound #coruscant guard #hound x f!reader

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the-bad-batch-baroness · 8 months

Note

Greetings and grats on 300+!!!

May I request:

• Hound (special appearance Grizz?)

• romantic

• gn!reader

• sfw

• 300

• prompt: 9 - "Help me."

• optional: said by reader; maybe desperate could be inspiration; blue neon lights?

tysm, feel free to ignore if not vibing with it <3 grats again

Kiss Me

Hound x GN!Reader

Pairing: Hound x GN!Reader

Tags & Warnings: fluff, stalker-ish, light angst

Word Count: 300

Author's Note: Moon, sweetie, thank you so much for sending in a request for my event 🥺 I love Hound and was so excited when I saw that you asked for him! I really wanted to go a little further with this one, but that darn 300 word limit stopped me 😒Who knows though, maybe I'll make it into a full-length fic someday! As always, please enjoy 💚

Your pace quickens as you walk down the neon lit street. You take a few random turns, periodically peeking over your shoulder at the man walking your same path. Your unease begins to turn into anxiety as you believe he must be following you. You’ve been trying to lose him, but you're running out of ideas and places to go.

You steal another look behind you and make a sharp turn down the next street. However, your escape is interrupted when you crash into something hard. You gasp and fall backwards onto your butt. When you open your eyes, you’re greeted by a massif sniffing your feet. You startle, but let your eyes follow its leash up to the Coruscant Guardsman holding it.

“Are you alright?” Hound asks, stretching his hand out to help you up. “That was quite a hard hit.”

You stare at the ARF trooper blankly before getting an idea. "Pretend to be my boyfriend," you say.

"I'm sorry?" Hound questions, wondering if he heard you wrong.

"Kiss me," you insist as you step closer to him.

"What?" Hound takes a nervous step back.

You take a step forward. "Please," you whisper. "Help me. He’s been following me since I left the bar."

Hound can hear the desperation in your voice, and looks behind you to see a man coming around the corner. Without further thought, Hound places his hand on the small of your back and pulls you against him. He lifts up his bucket and presses his lips against yours. After a moment, he breaks the kiss, plants another on your forehead, and watches as the man turns.

“He’s leaving,” Hound says as he lets you go.

“Thank you,” you sigh in relief, before looking at him and smiling. “Can I buy you a caf?”

Event Masterlist

Masterlist

A03

Tag List: @nahoney22 @kixs-husband @commander-sunshine @sunshinesdaydream @padawancat97 @verndusk @starrrgazingbunny @coraex @lickylickylicky @homemade-clones @523rdrebel @clonemedickix @starrylothcat @moon-wrecked @mooncommlink @ladyzirkonia @stunkbiggu @cdblake1565

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matookahitaki · 8 months

Note

Hey me again 🤣🤣

I just simply L O V E your artwork and I hope you know this!🙌🏻🙌🏻

I have a little request for you no rush but would you be able to draw me Hound please , I know alot of people don’t know what he looks like & I have seen a couple art works about him but I would love to see your take on him🖤🩷🖤🩷

Keep up the amazing work!xx

First time for hound, and ofc Grizzer the lil gal!

#star wars the clone wars #swtcw #sergeant hound #arf trooper hound #hound #hound sw #hound swtcw #tcw hound #gave him freckles because i felt like it #i really like how it came out #i take the quest #hound's teeth #houndstooth

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anxiouspineapple99 · 8 months

Note

Greetings! May I request Wrecker, Hound, and/or Hunter, whichever of my guys inspires for emoji things! ty <3

How about all three? 😊 🥰

list babes 💕: @the-bad-batch-baroness @deejadabbles @dystopicjumpsuit @multi-fan-dom-madness @littlemissmanga @wolffegirlsunite @blueink-bluesoul @wings-and-beskar @sunshinesdaydream @starrylothcat @starqueensthings @freesia-writes @mandos-mind-trick @808tsuika @idontgetanysleep @clonemedickix @moonlightwarriorqueen @523rdrebel @eyeluvmusic21 @isthereanechoinhere96 @ladyzirkonia @sinfulsalutations

#star wars #the bad batch #the clone wars #sergeant hunter #sergeant hound #clone trooper wrecker #clone force 99 #coruscant guard #arf trooper hound #you requested #and the pineapple created #clone react memes #sw the clone wars #sw the bad batch

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toomanyteefs · 9 months

Text

Well my Fox time travel fix-it is officially complete!!! Whew it always feels so good to finish a project, even if I’m always left a little shocked that I made it to that point.

The fic is called Do-Over and if anybody wants to see me torture Fox and then slowly build him back up to a functional and - dare I say - happy individual I invite you to check it out!

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cloneloverrrrr · 5 months

Note

Hi,

I saw your post with the smut dialogue prompts. I’d like to request “Don��t be gentle with me-I like it when you’re rough” along with “That noise…keep making it.” With Darman with fem reader. If your not comfortable writing him I also love Howzer, Mayday, Thorn, Rex and recently Hound.

If you have time great. If not that’s fine too. 😊

Thank you 💕

@trixie2023 this took my soul, I forgot how much I enjoy writing for beautiful Hound🫠🫠😈😈

I hope you enjoy this little bit of filth with our fave Arf Trooper 🫶🏻🫶🏻

He needs more loving💁🏻‍♀️

Dividers by my boo @idontgetanysleep ✨🥰

𝗗𝗼𝗻𝘁 𝗕𝗲 𝗚𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗪𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗠𝗲 - 𝗢𝗻𝗲 𝗦𝗵𝗼𝘁

𝗥𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀:🔞 𝗠𝗶𝗻𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗗𝗢 𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁 𝗠𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: 𝗦𝗲𝗿𝗴𝗲𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝗛𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱 𝘅 𝗳!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 , 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘁

𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 1110

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗦𝗠𝗨𝗧, 𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁 𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁 𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗮 𝘁𝗶𝗻𝘆 𝗽𝗹𝗼𝘁, 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆, 𝗼𝗿𝗮𝗹 𝗙 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗲𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵 𝘀𝗲𝘅, 𝗣 𝗶𝗻 𝗩 𝘀𝗲𝘅, 𝘂𝗻𝗽𝗿𝗼𝘁𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝗲𝘅, 𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗺𝗽𝗶𝗲, 𝗛𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱 𝗯𝗲𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝗻 𝗮𝗱𝗼𝗿𝗮𝗯𝗹𝗲 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗹𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗿𝗼𝗺𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗰 𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗲𝗻𝗱

A dark twilight had fallen across the skies on your home planet of Coruscant. Less then an hour or so the sky was gloaming a red, orange,yellow and pink hue. Now it’s wake was vast inky black tranquility married to a poetry of glistening stars. It was the softness that called body and brain to rest, the night came as a reward of some sorts, a restfulness to calm one’s soul.

That was until the sound of your apartment doors whooshed open, a clank of a helmet as it clattered to the floor. A tall dominating presence lingered behind you, the air was still with mirrored breathing.

Hound stood behind you, gloved hands caressing your arms as his fingers trail up to your shoulders rubbing gently releasing any tension that had built up. You breathe a small gasp , this has your Sergeant smiling into the nape of your neck.

You watched the speeders zoom below your apartment the neon glow from the bustling streets below illuminated your face. Your hands guiding Hounds down to your waist.

“It’s good to be home mesh’la” he murmured into the crook of your neck, a damp trail of his salvia leads from the shell of your ear to your pulse point.

No words spoken only mutual desires burn between you both.

Clothes fell, lips and fingers traced the contours of each body, tongues flit against necks, nipples, stomachs. Heat pooled in the base of your stomach , Hounds sizeable length oh so desperate to stretch you to feel you come undone for him.

Hound backed you up to the large windows of your apartment , the sheer viole hardly covering the copulation between two lovers.

“Hound- stop… what if someone uh.. sees” you whimper out

Hounds dark gaze met yours , a smirk tugged at this lips, his long dark curls fell against his face. Your hand leaned over to push them out from his honey eyes.

He held your face and kissed you, lazy deep kisses , his tongue pleading for an entrance you happily accepted.

“Shhhh mesh”la… relax for me” he whispered groaning into your mouth. His errection grinding against your stomach.

So enthralled in this warm haze you fail to notice Hounds large fingers slide down your sides until a firm touch sent a shiver down your spine. His thumb pressed against your clit , two of his fingers tease your moist slit. Up and down dipping in slightly.

“Fuck- your so wet” he hisses through gritted teeth.

Your hips jerked against his touch , the cool glass brushed against your supple skin adding the shivers vibrating under your skin.

Hound gets down on his knees, his gaze never once leaving yours, he drags his nose up your thigh slowly, one hand continuing to rub deft fingers around your slit dragging your arousal across your labia and sensitive clit. On instinct your legs part allowing him better access.

“Oh Hound, stars- oh-“ you moaned.

A fog of pleasure clouded your vision. Skin ablaze.

A flat wet tongue pressed against your clit, one finger pumping away. Your hands grabbed onto his soft curls gently tugging pulling his head taught. Another finger added the pace becoming brisk.

“Don’t be gentle with me - I like it when your rough” he teased.

Your fingers became intertwined in his locks, you pulled his head taught grabbing at his hair harder , grinding yourself on his face as his tongue fucked you.

Your body spasmed your cunt fluttered, your stomach clenched the heat building threatening to take over. Your rolled your hips faster, pushing his face against your tingling clit. Hounds grip on your thighs was harsh, surely to leave bruises, a lewd reminder of this evening.

Heat coiled, your core exploded.

“Good girl , cum for me. That’s it” Hound growled , his filthy praises muffled by your convulsing cunt and the sounds of your panting.

Your breathing was shakey, legs trembling you fall back against the glass. Calloused hands rubbed up your thighs as he stands up. Chin lips and nose shining with your release. Eyes hooded dripping in desire.

Hound backs you into the windows once more flipping you around, your perfect naked body glimmering against the luminous lights of the city below.

“I’ll give you everything you’ll ever need pretty girl” dark hunger laced in his raspy voice.

The velvety tip of his cock stretches your dripping cunt , the tendons in his neck straining as he moaned, the way your cunt fluttered around him had him falling into an animalistic state of rapture.

Slowly hips slap against your ass, heavy fingers roll and pull at your nipple , the other clasped around your throat a thumb on your pulse point the index finger curled into your mouth. His chest heaved against your back, the harsh drag of his cock fucking into you brutally. You jerk and writhe at his touch the painful pleasure almost too much.

Broken screams, pitiful whimpers and the stutter of his name fall from your mouth. These sounds snapped something devilish inside of him.

“That noise …. keep making it” he moaned so fucking desperately.

He sucked on your neck pushing into you harder much rougher than before, moving his hand from your swollen nipple down to your clit. Rubbing firm small circles as he slammed into you. Harder and harder.

Your eyes rolled back, you let your head fall into the crook of his neck, wet squelching noises paired with his violent thrusts pants and moans engulfed your senses over took your mind. The pressure inside you pulled taught you came intensely coating his cock in your sweet cum. Your back arched into Hound his stomach muscles flexing as his pace faltered , more erratic.

A pained groan fell from his chest as Hound spilled into you, filling you with warm thick ropes of his cum. His fingers gently stroking your spine as he softened inside of you placing a tender kiss upon your each shoulder.

“I can’t get enough of you mesh’la” he whispers into the back of your neck, hands travelling across each dip and curve of your body. You hum quietly in response reaching a hand back you stroke his cheek and he melts into your touch. Your souls connect as one.

“My love for you knows no limits”

His words have you gasping as he picks you up carrying you to the fresher. A sweet wave of calm washes over you rippling like the mighty waves on Kamino.

A beautiful feeling nothing or no one could ever replicate.

TAGLIST- @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @hellhound5925 @kimiheartblade @cw80831 @hello-there-cyarika @dukeoftheblackstar @jules-1999 @justanothersadperson93 @secretthegriffin @idontgetanysleep @clonemedickix @eternal-transience-spice @n0vqni @dangraccoon @starrylothcat

Please do lmk if you want to be added or removed ☺️

#clone thot #arf trooper hound #sergeant hound #tcw hound #tcw hound smut #clone trooper hound smut #clone smut #clone thirsting #talk to me about star wars #tcw fanfic

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varpusvaras · 1 month

Text

Hound, being tossed around by a Corridor Ghoul: What's his name?

#all of the corries to him constantly: do NOT pet the dog!#sw #tcw #star wars incorrect quotes #arf trooper hound #coruscant guard

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clone-anon · 10 months

Note

In the US the 4th of July is tomorrow and there will be so many fireworks. I have ptsd and hate fireworks. I always cry into a ball of blankets and try to hide. Can I get some love (maybe some cuddles) from any of the Coruscant Guard please?

I hope no one minds this jumping to the front of the request line as it seems time-sensitive. You are not alone in your reaction to fireworks, Anon. I wrote this with platonic cuddles with Hound and gn!reader, although could be potentially romantic / early relationship. Grizzer makes an appearance.

You'd dreaded it the entire day. Everyone was out celebrating, but you knew the annual fireworks display would be the cause of personal stress. This was a massive celebration and there was no way you could travel to any location that wouldn't have fireworks, not without leaving the planet. You spent part of the day with friends, including some of the Coruscant Guard. Your close friend worked for a senator and had started inviting them to group events. You enjoyed time eating and hanging out with them, and especially loved sitting with Hound as Grizzer convinced you to share your food. You tried to take your mind off of it, but when it came time for everyone to get ready for the fireworks display, you said your goodbyes.

Hound caught your hand as you were about to leave. "Everything okay?"

You tried to smile and nodded, but your eyes gave it away.

"Anything I can help with," Hound asked gently.

You shrugged. "I don't like fireworks."

He nodded slowly as the weight of those words offered a realization and he said, "Do you want company?"

You thought about it. You'd never asked anyone to support you during this, always quietly leaving and not wanting to bother anyone. Then, Grizzer came closer to you, almost like he was offering too.

"Okay," you replied.

Hound and Grizzer walked home with you. It was almost night and you knew they would start at any moment. You grabbed the biggest blanket you had and sat on the couch, Hound watching for any indication of what you might need, not sure how to ask and not wanting to seem like he was prying. The first burst hit the sky and your body shook, cowering under the blanket as tears came to your eyes. Hound sat next to you and held his arms open. You crawled into his lap and he held you. Grizzer laid down on the couch, offering support by leaning on both of you.

You noticed Hound had some tears in his eyes and his core seemed to shake when there was another boom.

"You don't like them either," you said.

He tried to smile. "Not particularly, no."

You moved the blanket so it was wrapped around all three of you and you huddled together for support. You stayed that way, both of you feeling better with someone who understood. Grizzer's calmness helped both of you and eventually, you all laid down in the couch in a cuddle pile, you laying on top of Hound and Grizzer laying along your legs, head resting on Hound's foot.

When a tear escaped your eye after a huge boom, you felt him gently wipe it away and whispered "It's okay." When he startled after a crackling burst, you gave him a squeeze to remind him he wasn't alone either. Most of the night was little exchanges of support and Hound telling you how he would usually rely on Grizzer in times like these.

"Now we both have Grizzer," he said, "and each other."

"Yes we do," you replied. "I'm glad you came."

After the fireworks were done and your bodies had some chance to settle a little, you fell asleep to the feeling of each other breathing a little easier.

#clone trooper hound x reader #sergeant hound x reader #arf trooper hound #arf trooper hound x reader #hound x reader #hound anon #grizzer #tcw fanfiction #hound x gn!reader #gn!reader #fireworks #cw: ptsd

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neyswxrld · 4 months

Text

excited, warm and loved

Hound x reader (gn)

summary: A sweet "igloo" date with Hound!

warnings: kissing, fluff

word count: ~910

advent calendar masterlist

a/n: this is the twenty second fic for my advent calendar! can someone please take me on a date like that? 👉🏻👈🏻

"I have a surprise for you," Hound says as he stands in the door of your apartment, clothed in a thick mantle, a scarf, a beanie and some gloves. "But you should dress warmly."

"Well, hello to you too," you smile at him, surprised by his visit. Normally, he calls when he comes over, but it seems like this is spontaneous.

"Oh... Hi!" he smiles at you, a little bit lost. You shake your head playfully and grab your shoes and a winter coat.

"Where are we going?" you ask as you walk down the stairs with him.

"That's the surprise!" he smirks at you with a mischievous grin before he grabs your hand in his.

The cold air of the late afternoon makes your warm breath cloudy. Small, lonely snowflakes fall down on you, barely adding to the new layer of snow.

"Where's Grizzer?" you ask him, a little bit concerned. You've rarely seen him without the massiff.

"She's with Fox. He promised me to look after her," he says, and your eyebrows raise, almost touching your hairline.

"She's with Fox? Aren't you scared she comes back traumatized?" you ask jokingly.

"Nah, he isn't with the chancellor today. He's doing some paperwork. She'll probably sleep the whole day and enjoy her well-deserved day of vacation," he tells you.

"Oh? And you don't?" you ask him, looking up at him.

"Hm, I think spending it with you is the best way to do it," he says with a wide smile.

You notice the heat rising to your cheeks and try to ignore it.

After some walking and sweet small talk, he suddenly stops and pulls you in front of him.

"What are you doing?" you ask, looking up at him.

"Do you trust me?" he wants to know, playing with your fingers.

"Of course," you nod, grabbing his hands.

"Okay," he murmurs, "turn around."

You do as he says, closing your eyes as he carefully lifts his hand up to cover them.

"Don't peek!" he says before slowly taking step after step forward. He walks you through the streets for a few minutes and comes to a sudden halt.

"You ready?" he whispers in your ear.

"Yeah," you nod.

As he slowly lifts his hands, you have to blink against the light before focusing on the thing in front of you.

At first sight, it looks like a huge heap of snow, but as you take a closer look, you identify it as a small cave-like thing. It looks like a half-circle made out of snow. In front of it are several colorful pillows that look very comfortable and a small campfire that illuminates the place.

"An igloo?" you ask excitedly, jumping a little bit on the spot.

"More like a half... or quarter igloo. There wasn't enough snow for the whole thing. Do you still like it?" he asks, stepping around you.

"No," you shake your head, trying to look at him seriously. As his face drops, you start to grin, swing your arms around his neck, and hug him.

"I love it, Hound!" you assure him. Your smile widens as you feel him exhale relieved. "Of course I love it. It's perfect," you smile, pulling him with you towards his creation.

You sit down on the pillows and blankets together. While you cuddle up on his chest and put your legs sideways above his, he lays his arms around you, holding you tightly.

"Are you hungry?" he asks after a while, already pulling out a small picnic basket from somewhere.

"You brought food?" you ask, touched.

"Mhm," he nods, passing you an empty cup, filling it up with a hot drink, and repeating it for himself.

After that, he pulls out some snacks. Marshmallows to roast over the fire, chocolate-coated strawberries, but also some salty snacks. Happily, you two start to roast some of the white and pink sweets, share some of the fruits, and drink some of the hot cup.

"Did I forget something?" you ask after a while. You're kind of speechless and so touched by this surprise. The amount of thought, effort and time he had to invest in this had to be a lot.

"No, I... I just wanted to do something nice for you," he begins. "You're always doing lovely little things for me. Thought I could return the favor," he smiles.

"Oh, Hound... That is so kind and lovely of you... Thank you so much!" you say, giving him a kiss. His lips taste sweet and fresh, with a hint of chocolate.

Savoring his flavor, you pull yourself closer to him, almost sitting in his lap.

When you part from one another, you look into each other's eyes for a long time, feeling the building tension between you. There is a happy spark in Hound's eyes, and their brown reflects the flames of the fire, adding a pretty glint to them.

"I love you," you murmur after some time. You're close enough to each other to be able to slightly touch his nose with yours.

"And I love you," Hound whispers. You feel the movement of his lips against yours. Goosebumps spread across your whole body, and butterflies are having a huge dance party in your stomach.

You feel excited, warm and loved.

Happy, you close your eyes and press your lips against Hound's again, hoping to never miss this feeling again in your life.

TAGLIST:

@isthereanechoinhere96 @trixie2023 @freesia-writes

#hound x reader #tcw hound #hound x you #arf trooper hound #star wars #the clone wars #star wars advent calendar #clone wars advent calendar #igloo #all i want for christmals advent calendar

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dystopicjumpsuit · 11 months

Text

Writer Wednesday, Week 1 (2023)

Tagging @writer-wednesday

Watch and Learn, City Boy

Summary: Your romantic getaway with Sergeant Hound hits a snag, but luckily, you're resourceful. Hound isn't so sure about this whole "camping" thing, but you know the best way to get him on board.

Pairings: Clone Sergeant Hound x Fem!Reader

Fandom: Star Wars/The Clone Wars

Rating: T (spicy version is on AO3! Link below!)

Word Count: 1.8K

Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff; mild language; implied/fade-to-black sensuality

“Remind me why we’re doing this, again?” Hound grumbles as the two of you wrangle a pile of tent poles and canvas.

“Because the hotel didn’t allow massiffs,” you say, grunting a bit as you struggle with the heavy tent.

Technically, the hotel doesn’t allow clones, either, but you leave that unsaid. You had booked the room, paid the pet deposit, and traveled from Coruscant to Alderaan, only to be abruptly turned away at check-in. Before you left, you told the hotel concierge your opinion of their corporate bigotry, and now you are also banned for life. And so here the three of you are, setting up an ancient, decrepit canvas tent that you dug out of your parents’ attic.

Well, technically the two of you are setting up the tent while Grizzer explores your campsite, sniffing the lush greenery of Alderaan with interest. The massiff is accustomed to the hard plastcrete and rancid smells of Coruscant, and you wonder if she’s ever been in nature before.

“Relax,” you say. “I did this all the time growing up. It’ll be fun!”

“Sleeping in the dirt and eating rations is your idea of fun?” Hound asks.

“The tent has a floor,” you point out, “and believe me, we can do better than rations.”

Eventually, you wrestle the tent into submission and get two bedrolls laid out inside. The scent of old canvas, saturated with woodsmoke and memories, pulls you right back to your childhood: camping under the stars, swimming in the lake, lying in the sand and exploring the world around you. You can almost hear the shrieks of laughter and your father’s deep baritone as he sings a lullaby to you and your siblings.

You hang up a few strings of twinkle lights, and then, satisfied with the cozy little retreat you’ve created, you go back outside to get a campfire started. Hound is standing with his arms crossed, looking decidedly unimpressed with the entire situation.

“Has it occurred to you that there are wild animals in these woods?” he asks. “Gree told me about the wolf-cats of Alderaan.”

“Grizzer will keep us safe,” you reassure him. “Won’t you, girl? Who’s my sweet baby?”

Grizzer wiggles happily over to you and nuzzles into your chest as you squat to scritch behind her ear holes.

“Grizzer, have some dignity, for kark’s sake,” Hound says. “You are a soldier of the Republic, not a pampered lap-tooka.”

Grizzer ignores him and flops onto her back to beg for belly rubs. Seeing the way you fawn over the massiff, Hound can’t help but smile, remembering the day he met you.

“Grizzer! NO!”

Hound chased after the bolting massiff as she charged an unsuspecting civilian in the middle of Monument Plaza. Grizzer had yanked the leash out of his hands and was running full-tilt through the scattering crowds. Too late, he saw her target: you.

You were standing in the sun, laughing with a street vendor, and Hound would have taken a moment to appreciate your beauty if you hadn’t been standing directly in the path of certain doom.

“Grizzer!” he shouted again. “Heel!”

You turned toward the commotion with only a few meters between you and the charging massiff. Hound fought the urge to close his eyes before Grizzer launched herself and savaged you, but then something completely unexpected happened.

You called out a word in a strange language, and the massiff skidded to a halt in front of you. You allowed her to sniff your hand, and then you pulled something out of your pocket and offered it to her. She took the treat and licked your hand as Hound finally caught up, heaving with exertion.

“Sorry, ma’am,” he panted. “She slipped her leash. I don’t know what got into her.”

You smiled up at him, and his heart thudded with more than just adrenaline when he saw the way your eyes sparkled.

“She just smelled the treats,” you said with a shrug. “We always had massiffs when I was growing up, and I never got out of the habit of carrying a few treats in my pockets. I hope it’s all right that I gave her one; I really didn’t want to lose a hand.”

In that moment, Hound knew he was utterly lost.

“Awww, is Daddy grumpy?” you coo at Grizzer as you rub her belly. “Is he a Cranky McGrumperson? Is he spreading his grumpy energy all over our campsite because he’s afraid to get his hands dirty?”

You shoot Hound a teasing look, and he stalks over to you, pulling you away from Grizzer and into his arms for a kiss. You sigh happily. You’ve been seeing Hound for a few weeks now, and you were hoping that a romantic trip to your home planet of Alderaan during his shore leave would give you an opportunity to take things to the next level. You had booked a room at a posh boutique hotel with a luxurious soaking tub and an incredible view of the mountains. Who knew the hoteliers would turn out to be gigantic dicks?

So you made a quick change of plans. You had been worried about Hound’s reaction to the idea of camping, but your other option was to take him to your parents’ home and sleep in your childhood bedroom, which… No thanks. Not the ideal setup for the intimate weekend you are planning.

You break away from Hound’s kiss feeling lightheaded. He’s an excellent kisser, and as you’ve discovered over the past weeks, a man who can kiss like that will bring a similar level of skill and enthusiasm to the bedroom (or the bedroll, as the case may be). Now all you have to do is coax him out of his sullen mood.

“Did I mention I happen to be an amazing cook?” you ask, fluttering your eyelashes.

His interest is immediately piqued. “How are you planning to cook out here?”

“Watch and learn, city boy,” you say with a grin.

One hour, two shaak steaks, and four bottles of ale later, Hound’s temper is remarkably improved.

“Where did you learn to cook over an open fire like that?” he asks.

“My dad taught me,” you say as you pull out a deck of sabacc cards. “I told you we used to do this all the time when I was a kid. You in?”

He nods, so you shuffle and deal.

“Your dad sounds like an interesting man,” he says. “Too bad he wasn’t home when we stopped by to get the camping gear. I’d like to meet him.”

You laugh, “Trust me, it’s better this way. You might be ready to take down the entire Separatist army, but you are not prepared for my parents’ boyfriend interrogation.”

“Boyfriend, is it?” Hound asks, his brown eyes twinkling.

“If you play your cards right,” you say with a smirk.

You play a few hands of sabacc, betting with pebbles since Hound doesn’t have any credits, and when it gets too dark to see the cards, you decide to change into pajamas. Grizzer goes into the tent with you and immediately flops down on a bedroll. When you’d packed for your trip, you were planning to be spending your nights in a luxury suite, and your choice of sleepwear was not exactly suited to the great outdoors, so you regretfully tuck away the lacy little chemise. You strip out of your clothes and pull on a pair of short shorts and an old Alderaan University hoodie—the best option you could find in your old bedroom at your parents’ house.

When you leave the tent, Grizzer stays behind. Hound watches you with an unreadable expression, and you worry that he’s still not having a good time. It’s time to break out the big guns.

“Are you ready to have your mind blown, trooper?” you ask with a flirty look.

He sits forward immediately. “What did you have in mind?”

You bend over and rummage through the bags of groceries you’d bought on your way out of Aldera. When you straighten up, you notice his gaze lingering on your exposed legs. You toss him a packet of marshmallows.

“What are these for?” he asks.

You hand him a stick that you scavenged earlier in the day and teach him how to toast the marshmallows over the coals of the campfire. Hound’s immediately catches on fire, which you assure him is part of the experience.

“It’s not a real s’more if the marshmallow isn’t at least thirty percent carbon,” you say.

You show him how to sandwich the resulting crispy, molten marshmallow in between layers of chocolate and sweet biscuits, and the bliss on his face when he tastes it for the first time makes the entire trip worthwhile. You haven’t eaten s’mores in years, and you’ve forgotten how rich they are.

“I think I can only eat one,” you say.

“Not me,” he says. “I’ll eat the whole bag.”

You give him a delighted smile, pleased that he’s finally come around. Hound has such a sweet tooth. All the clones do, he tells you. Something to do with their enhanced metabolisms, and the fact that they rarely get to eat anything other than ration bars and bland mess hall food.

“These are incredible,” he mumbles around a bite. “Messy, though.”

“I can help with that,” you offer, licking the melted chocolate and marshmallow goo off his fingers. “After all, we both know you don’t like to get your hands dirty.”

His eyes widen, and for a moment, he forgets how to breathe. He swallows audibly. “You know, I take it back. Maybe camping isn’t so bad after all.”

You stand up and tug him to his feet, leading him to the tent. Inside, Grizzer has completely claimed one entire bedroll for herself.

“I guess we’ll have to share,” you say, already planning what kind of treat to give the massiff as a thank-you.

“Oh, no, anything but that,” Hound murmurs as he draws you close to him, running his hands down your back to squeeze your ass. “You know, with the lights on in the tent, I could see everything when you were changing.”

“Everything?” you ask, tipping your head back to gaze up into his beautiful amber eyes.

“Well, maybe not everything,” he admits. He slips a hand inside your hoodie to caress the bare skin of your back.

“Maybe we should turn them off so we don’t scandalize all those wild animals you’re so worried about,” you tease.

“Let them watch,” he says.

***

The soft light of an early summer morning filters through the canvas of the tent. You awaken slowly, feeling deliciously warm and safe. As you drift towards consciousness, you feel weight pressing against you from both sides, and you realize that at some point during the night, Grizzer has joined you and Hound on your bedroll, sandwiching you between her and the trooper. You are wrapped securely in Hound's strong arms, your legs tangled between his, and his fingers are interlaced with yours. You hear the melodic chirpings of avian-song outside the tent, and you snuggle closer to Hound, feeling his warm, even breath against your shoulder.

It may not be the romantic getaway you had planned, but this may be your favorite holiday ever.

Spicy version here:

#writer-wednesday #dystopicjumpsuit writes #tcw fanfic #star wars tcw #arf trooper hound #clone trooper hound #coruscant guard #writing challenge #write something #support writers #support creators #support content creators #grizzer #sergeant hound #clone wars #star wars #writer wednesday

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