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steambot-sparky · 20 days

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Steam Powered Giraffe Mechanisms crossover bulletfic

I had an idea for a Steam Powered Giraffe au where Commander Cosmo and the Steam Powered Giraffe heroes formed a crew of space adventurers to track down traces of the necrostar and thwart the tragedies it leaves behind. (Those tragedies of course would be the events of the Mechanisms albums)

But this idea got too big and I don’t know if I ever would have been able to write it. I enjoy thinking about this au, but I would not be able to do it justice with my current writing skill. So as a compromise with myself, here is the plot it would have had in bullet points.

WOW This got WAY LONGER than I thought it would so prepare yourself for that going in.

Beginning/setup

Commander Cosmo’s celebration of defeating the Astronaut is short lived when he realizes that the body of the Astronaut has been possessed by the Necrostar, creating the Necronaut

He decides to assemble a team of heroes (“all of them”) to follow the readings he picked up and try to defeat the necronaut. He feels it is his responsibility as he thinks it was his fault the necronaut exists

While he does this, though, he needs to keep Cosmica close by so he can teach her how to not kill everyone and also supervise her, which she resents a bit, but ultimately understands the purpose of

Cosmo, along with the crew of the SS Alexander go to earth. Cosmo meets with SPG and they tell him about all the heroes they know of, starting with Delilah Morreo who is still alive due to being a wraith

They know that in order to not mess with the timeline, they must take the older heroes out of their timelines after or right before they die. That presents the problem of keeping them alive

Delilah and Cosmo come up with devices to technologically augment the heroes with blue matter and a touch of green.

Delilah learned about some of this engineering technique from a fellow scientist she met a while back who she had to end her research fellowship with once she learned the scientist was a vampire

They rescue Captain Albert Alexander shortly after he sank to the bottom of the sea, using a stealth submarine and brought him back to life with mechanical lungs to replace the ones damaged by water intake

They rescue Rex Marksley in his own home as a disease that left him blind was about to kill him, and give him a new pair of mechanical eyes that can aim even better than his natural eyes. He opts to wear dark goggles over his eyes as he adjusts, and he can see just fine out of them. He didn’t want to be saved, but he was not going to turn down his world in a time of need

They rescue Lilly “Airheart” on the mountainside, leaving only Jimmy’s goggles behind. Lilly already had an engine for a heart, being half plane, and so all Cosmo and Delilah had to do was add a blue matter core to it. Lilly wished she could take Jimmy’s goggles with her as she learns to pilot a spaceship.

Without information on how Roller Skate King, Salgexicon, and Leopold Expiditus died, they cannot take them out of the timeline, and the Suspender man wasn’t much of a hero, so those four got left back on earth

Cosmo entrusts the safety of present day earth with Olly and the Equinox Band (they were already doing it anyway, because technically this timeline’s Cosmo is still in the star)

The rescued heroes freak out about being in space and in the future but eventually get used to it enough to do what they were brought to do

Once Upon a Time in Space

They track traces of the Necronaut to an old, dangerous sector of space in the far future, as well as traces of a matter type similar to red matter, but it’s frequency is slightly higher

They discover that King Cole is using a new thing called Orange Matter to keep himself alive and create Rose Red clones fueled by the war he eternally wages. It is unsure whether the war fuels the orange matter, or if the orange matter just makes everyone want to go to war

The Necronaut’s meddling would set this up to be a tragedy, so Cosmo’s team intervened

Because most of them cannot die, when the defense grid is brought down around New Constantinople, it is the crew of the SS Alexander that go into the caverns below the palace and confront King Cole.

Captain Albert Alexander fought off the Three Little Pigs with the help of Rav, and at the same time

Rex Marksley brought down King Cole with a single shot right through the heart.

Commander Cosmo breaks through the life pod containing Rose

Together they personally escort Rose back to Cinders, and meet Snow on the way

They collect the red matter and store it in a lead lined container for later study, but investigation reveals there used to be more.

Tales speak of a mysterious figure that talked to King Cole and showed him how to use a natural resource of New Constantinople to extend his life. Some people say the figure is the devil

Ulysses Dies at Dawn

Acheron run on purple matter, which symbolizes desire

There used to be some in the vault, and the radiation still remains, pulling in certain suits and olympians, making them sure they want what’s inside

The radiation itself manifested a seed’s simple desire to grow into a tree

Our heroes seek an audience with Hades who is very interested in their story and does not seem to be who they say they are

Though Hades won’t help, they did learn a bit about their plan and go to the vault before the suits

Gidget takes the trial of wits

Captain Albert Alexander took the trial of strenght

Cosmica passed the trial of song

Lily took the trial of love and came right back to life after the contraption killed her

They see it’s just a tree, and close the vault again

They tell the suits that it’s just a tree

Life in the City goes on

“Is that all? Is the tragedy averted?”

“This whole place is a living tragedy”

They confiscate the purple matter and help negotiate positive social change (it helps when you have two glowy people that could destroy the planet in an instant)

High Noon Over Camelot

Needless to say, both Rex and Rav are excited about the next destination

Though the latter is disappointed that the solution to this particular tragedy is not blowing up the sun before the station can fall into it

Scans of the station reveal broken communication systems as well as where the command center was and a life sign indicating someone in stasis, as well as a bunch of other life signs

Scans also reveal a Matter type that by process of elimination can be assumed to be yellow

To not startle the inhabitants, the human looking people (Lilly, Delilah, Captain, and Rex) go into the main station to talk to the people about finding a solution (Lilly and Delilah have to wear cloaks but at least they’re not green)

Rav, and cosmo go below to look for the person in stasis, leaving Cosmica alone with Booplax and Gidget as a test of her ability to not destroy things when left to her own devices

Cosmo destroys the gun turrets guarding the captain’s cabin and they find and talk to Captain David Robert Matthea, who tells them about the GRAIL and the problems with the station

Rex, Captain, Delilah, and Lilly meet Merlin, hear his prophecies (he is very confused that they are here. He did not Foresee that), and Lilly talks to the ghouls while Rex and Captain talk to the townsfolk

They reconvene and Delilah and Lilly talk about how Ghouls have their own culture and how they raised a human as their own

Rex and Captain talk about the townsfolk’s prejudice and the problems of living on the station

They try to educate each side about the other, and get noticed by Mordred and they work together to try for peace with the ghouls, but Gawain and the pendragons aren’t convinced

Delilah investigates the Siege seat and determines it’s purpose

About this time, Rav and Cosmo come back up through the saloon entrance, shocking a lot of people.

The commotion draws the rest of the team and Cosmo imputs the key and explains to the pendragon gang about what’s going on

They are inclined to believe a glowy person that just popped out of the floor, but that doesn’t mean they think he should declare himself captain

The pendragons eventually agree that Arthur should be captain and they get the station out of the decaying orbit around the sun

In celebration, Mordred reveals that he is Arthur’s son, and explains the whole being trans thing

Using the grail, they fix some of the problems with the station, and as people have less problems, they become more open to diplomacy

Having a son that’s living proof that Ghouls are not all bad also does not hurt

On the way out, Merlin asks for a ride in their spaceship, the crew is surprised he knows what a spaceship is until he reveals that he’s not from the station, nor is he actually named Merlin

Leaving the station they look for where the yellow matter radiation readings were coming from and find it was inside the sun.

As the sun radiated the station with heat, the yellow matter inside radiated the station with fear, turning beings who were exposed to long into things that elicited fear, and causing the townsfolk with less but still significant radiation to fear each other and fear those who were different

Cosmica and Cosmo enter the star together to take the yellow matter out and carefully contain it

The crew help Merlin Brian find his ship using readings from his own self regenerating technology which seems to run on green and blue matter as well

The crew get to know Brian a bit and they swap stories

Meeting with the Mechanisms

The SS Alexander is given permission to dock on the Aurora once Brian’s transmission goes through

Brian introduces them to each other

“So you’re the ones who have been ruining our perfectly good tragedies!”

Conflict, arguing

There’s plenty of tragedy in space, find something else is the general consensus, as well as, a story doesn’t have to be completely true for it to matter and be a good story

They did have one more story they were looking into though and when Cosmo hears about it, he knows it will be their final stand

The Bifrost Incident

The heroes go to Yggdrasil

The mechanisms don’t get involved because it could still go tragically

Cosmo and the Necronaut meet in a dream where the Necronaut brags about his final plan and ends up revealing that his plan involves Odin

The crew head to Asguard and try to convince Odin to not launch the train but she cannot be convinced, the Necrostar has been whispering to her, though she knows it by a different name.

The Necronaut was made of green matter.

It took blue matter energy from the conflict it orchestrated between SPG and the Space Gaint, as well as the Sky Sharks.

It got Red Matter from Commander Cosmo’s core when it tried to kill him

It got orange matter from New Constantinople, far in the future when it obtained some of the substance in return for teaching the king how to use the rest to live forever, though it did not tell him the affect it would have on his mind

It got purple matter from the City, buried amongst the roots of a tree, and once again showed an ambitious young man how to use it to get what he most desired

It got yellow matter from a burning orb of fear, and on the way out, pulled a space station just close enough that it would start to fall into the sun, gradually.

Now it had a whole rainbow, creation and destruction, fear and desire, passion and death, and it looked a bit different

And Odin intended to launch a train right into it

Nothing about the train or the ritual was what it wanted. What it really cared about was the people on the train, and the tragedy they could cause

One final tragedy, if done right, combined with the power of a rainbow of matter, would make the Necronaut unstoppable

Odin launches the train

The crew manage to get on the train but they don’t know how to stop it.

Relying on old faithful, they begin looking for signs of the beginnings of a tragedy.

It is difficult because they all look strange now, but they split up to do their best

Cosmica and Cosmo exit the train and are inside the swirling rainbow of the necronaut’s new form. They want to try talking to him

The rest of the crew talk to as many people as possible and poke around with Gidget hacking into things and they find Loki

A person with an orange streak in their hair and no memories sounds like it could lead to tragedies

Delilah tries to use an alchemical compound with blue matter to restore her memories but it is temporary, and what she says doesn’t make sense

See Thor outside of Loki’s cabin, Thor goes in, gets mad and asks them about it, they tell him what they learned

Thor goes to confront Odin, the others follow

The crew take out the guards to protect Thor but try to convince him to not kill Loki

They listen to him about Balder and explain about how the train is Very Bad and Loki was right for trying to stop it

Thor asks for proof and Rav just points out the window where cosmo and Cosmica are fighting a physical manifestation of the necronaut

Cosmica pulls a “he’s still in there” and tries to bring back the Astronaut by singing a bit of Soliton

For a moment, it seems like it worked, and the monstrous necrostar form turns into the Astronaut

Cosmica holds his face in her hands and tells him she missed him

The Astronaut smiles for a moment before his face falls

“You let me die.”

Cosmica pulls back, letting go of his hands but he grabs her and pulls her in with a look of rage on his face

“You let me DIE!” His sonic voice sends shockwaves that knock cosmo back a few feet and shake the train

Back on the train, Thor believes the crew but doesn’t know how to stop this from going badly, neither does anyone else

Out of ideas, they go back to Loki and find Sygn

They talk about the train stuff and Sygn comes with them to investigate the engine room and brings Loki

They see Kvasir and the altar but before they can panic, Gidget or Delilah warns that pulling him out would cause him to bleed out

They investigate the controls and try to gather first aid supplies

No one can make heads or tails of what the controls do so they decide to take Kvasir out

Surely messing with the system is the opposite of what the necronaut wants!

Things go wrong. They try to patch up kvasir but he’s loosing too much blood, thrashing, and he dies

The gears warp and the train goes weird

Squamous things appear on the train, caused by the rainbow Matter of the Necronaut seeping in either on purpose or on accident and everything is a blue of color and fear and destruction and desire and death and creation and passion

Back outside of the train, the astronaut shakes with rage as Cosmica tries to explain herself

He won’t listen, and ends up monologuing about how Cosmica betrayed him and the necrostar showed him how powerful he could be if he joined it, how he could get revenge on her and Cosmo for ruining his cosmic love, but how this final tragedy will once and for all achieve his goal, he and the necrostar will become one for good and he will always be the speed of light

The Crew on the train rush to save as many people as possible, leaving only Lilly behind with Loki and Sygn in the engine room. Now that the chaos of the train is unleashed, the energy of all the matter types in the train restores Loki’s memory

Thor continues through the train to confront Odin and Rav goes with him to help even the odds

In the engine, Loki and Sigyn realize that if the train doesn’t have blood, it will arrive in Midguard and could take the evil it’s passed through with it, and they go to unhitch the engine but just then, Cosmica is thrown into the engine car from above by the Necronaut, ripping the ceiling open a bit

Cosmica sees what Loki and Sigyn were about to do and warns them against it

“You shouldn’t have to sacrifice the person you love, not if there’s another way. And there’s always another way”

The Astronaut is surprised to hear this, it seems to get through to him, if even a little, though the Necrostar in him tries to fight it

Seeing an opening, Cosmica gives a good apology for letting him die and appeals to his humanity

He has another “what have I done” moment and lets Cosmica and Cosmo separate him from the Necrostar fragment which they contain

Without the Necrostar fragment keeping him alive, he finally perishes for good and Cosmica kisses him as he takes his final breaths. “I won’t leave you this time”

Epilogue

The bifrost/necrostar collapses without the core fragment to keep it together

Thor and Rav defeat Odin with the power of the explosives that Rav always seems to have on him, but it shatters the windows of the observation deck and they are holding on for dear life

Cosmo and Cosmica bring the train back to ground

They go back to earth to share the good news and figure out what to do with a handful of immortal people

#the astronaut spg #steam powered giraffe #spg fanfic #bullet fic #rex marksley #captain albert alexander #airheart #commander cosmo #the daughter of space #delilah morreo #ravaxis starburner

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crab-instruments · 1 year

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What’s Coming to Me Part 17

Master <Part 16 Part 18>

Pairing: Crosshair x Sniper Reader (GN)

Rating and warning: killing and ambivalence to killing, hella angst

Beta Reader: @unfocusedfish

a/n: This one's rough, y'all. We be semi canon compliant

Kamino was an awful planet, you decided. Maybe it wasn’t so much the planet was a drag but the fact that you were stuck here, sitting on the bench and a majority of the population looked exactly like the next guy. There were a few clones that didn’t suck but many didn’t like The Bad Batch to begin with, so your association with them along with being a nat-born made you unsavory company in their eyes. These regs, as The Batch referred to them, kept their distance from you.

Still, some soldiers saw you as a challenge, wanting to see what the legendary bounty hunter could do. It was easy to ignore the snide, petty comments, having never cared before. Being nonverbal sucked the fun out of their taunting as you never responded. Your novelty never fully wore off since the clones were in constant rotation.

One clone started to become friendly. He was stuck in a similar medical situation, practically healed but the squad was off-world. He seemed more mature than most, in attitude and age. His skin was tattered with blaster burns and scars and many of the other clones shut their mouths in his presence. His Dallas style mustache and somewhat contained mop hairstyle stood out against the other clones who were mostly clean shaven and well kept. Gator was what he had asked you to call him, before realizing he would never hear the name come out of your mouth. He said he wasn’t a big shot, but he had fancier armor than others, a green pauldron and kama. Gator’s helmet was well worn but had triangle teeth along the edges, yellow eyes on the sides, and faded scales on the back. Some referred to him as an ARC Trooper, but the classification meant nothing to you.

You stayed willfully ignorant of rank, treating everyone with the same amount of respect you felt they deserved, which wasn’t much. The longer you stayed in the GAR without understanding how the hierarchy worked, the funnier it became. What, only one pauldron? Come talk to me when you have two.

Gator enjoyed talking to you during down time, glad to have someone who wasn’t intimidated by him or just wouldn’t tell him to shut his mouth. Of all the clones you’d met on this waterlogged planet, he had the most charisma and cheeky smile, but it was a very low bar. His friendship also confirmed that The Bad Batch wasn’t oddly loyal to you; when a clone decides you’re friends, you’re vode. Gator made a point of sitting next to you in the mess hall and hung around during check-ups.

You expected he would eventually give up, your indifference never fading on the outside, but he would walk up with a toothy grin, make the same joke about how oddly quiet you were that day, and then ask to spar. You rarely ever turned down his offer.

The clone preferred to practice with living beings rather than training simulations. There was always a bit of distrust in his voice when he talked about the simulations, how life can’t be predicted by an algorithm. His happy expression melted into something serious and unreadable. “Machines are gonna fail and the system's gonna fail... then, survival. Who has the ability to survive? That's the game - survive.” Gator would say that to himself a lot and look off in the distance for a moment, as if reminiscing over something tragic and overwhelming.

The sparring room only had two other clones in it today, but the Jedi from before was watching from the observation room. Allora monitored your practice with a keen eye, either to observe your progress or to catch you red handed doing something wrong. You enjoyed the brief moments she directly interacted with you, a break from the constant flow of stoic clones. She always had a calm exterior but you could tell how much power bubbled like lava just below the surface. The bounty hunter-turned-trainer next to her looked less than impressed with you, though he had been smart enough not to challenge you.

After throwing Gator on the ground, winning another match, Gator chuckled. “One day I’m going to figure out how you always throw off my balance right when I think I got ya. Just not today.” He grunted before speaking again, eyes mischievous. “Maybe saying nothin’ has its advantages. Loose lips sink ships, eh?” You huffed and offered him a hand to help him up.

As you pulled him up to his feet, something felt wrong. Bad. It hurt, a pain that you had never felt before. Despair and hopelessness. You started to fold in on yourself and it became hard to breathe. Gator would have fallen to the ground with you if he hadn’t sensed something was off with you.

“Something wrong, Shev’la?” You could hear Gator but his voice was drowned out by the overwhelming feeling of dread and turmoil. Just as you couldn’t bear the feeling and your knees gave out, Gator caught you. He was speaking but you couldn’t comprehend what he was saying. The sound of a transmission came in from the observation room above, the only clear noise in the fuzziness you were experiencing. Only a few moments later did you hear blaster shots and the sound of a lightsaber igniting.

Both you and Gator spun around to see Allora on guard with her lightsaber backing up in the small space in the observation room above. The Jedi blocked incoming shots from clones, but the bounty hunter was caught completely off guard. He fell to the ground, lifeless.

“What the kriff is goin’ on?” Gator asked under his breath. You couldn’t move, eyes locked onto the scene unfolding. Allora continued to retreat, the other clones following hastily.

You made eye contact with Gator, pleading with your eyes for a rational explanation. Was this a training exercise? Is this real?

Gator only shook his head in disbelief, “Those shots weren’t on stun… They intended to kill—”

One of the two other clones in the room, forgotten up until now, opened a comm. The message relayed was given by a gravelly voice, ringing in your ears like a siren. You didn’t know what the message meant but it felt like nails on a chalkboard.

“Execute Order 66.”

You didn’t have time to turn to Gator to find out what that meant before arms wrapped around your neck, crushing your throat. Your fingers clawed at the arms, the lack of air making it hard to focus. A panicked noise escaped and you thrashed your legs. Once you gained some footing on the ground, you threw your head back into your assailant’s face, crushing his nose. It was hard enough that he let go and stumbled back. When you finally got a look at him, your mind went blank and you stumbled.

Gator.

It was Gator.

Gator turned on you. He tried to kill you. The man—who just moments ago was joking with you— attempted to strangle you.

Your blood ran cold, eyes wide.

He was still stumbling backwards, shaking his head. When the two of you made eye contact, for a moment, you still saw the clone you knew, who was confused and scared. It faded away to a dull, far away look.

Gator was gone.

No. No. No no no no no no! The Jedi will know what to do. Find Allora, she will explain this. She will fix this!

Shaking, you forced yourself to focus, winding up a punch to one of the clones in the face as they closed the distance. With a step forward, you roundhouse kicked the other clone in the gut, sending him flying into a punching bag. Gator threw a punch, you side stepped as his hand almost grazed your face. You grabbed his extended arm and used his momentum to throw his body towards the first clone. Gator was easily throwable, it was lucky you never helped him improve that.

All three clones were knocked down momentarily and you made your escape, slinking around the corner and down the hallway. Alarms and flashing lights filled the air, the sensation of being crushed under the weight of the water on this planet had never been more prevalent. You were sore, confused, and forsaken.

The sound of Allora yelling in pain caught your attention, coming from the next room. You watched a clone get hit by his own rebounded blaster shot and fall through the doorway, slumping dead against the wall. His blaster fell towards you so you snatched it up, glad to have a weapon. Leaving the sparring room empty handed was a rookie mistake you had never made before, but today was all about new experiences.

Peaking around the corner, the Jedi was… not faring well. She could only block so many incoming shots by herself. Allora was getting tired and it showed in how her movements became sluggish. One accurate shot and she could no longer stand. It only took a few more shots before she was down.

Your body moved before your brain told it to, finger pulling the trigger faster than the clones could register another hostile target. The room became quiet as you eliminated each clone in the vicinity, the blaster shots reverberating in the open room.

The Jedi was still breathing but she wasn’t… She didn’t…

You crumbled down next to Allora, hands hovering over her body, unsure of what to do or where to start. Her eyes fluttered open and she realized you weren’t trying to kill her. With the last of her strength, she pushed her lightsaber into your hand.

With the remaining life she had left, she gave you an order. “Run. Survive.”

The fire in Allora’s eyes was snuffed out, flames smothered with betrayal dealt by the very men she trusted.

A water droplet fell on your shaky hand. You looked around to find the source. Oh. It came from your eyes, you were crying. It had been so long you forgot the sensation. The slow tears felt hot on your cheeks. This is what defeat felt like.

Weaver’s last words echoed in your mind:

“… Oh, it’s almost tragic when you think about it. The clones you now care for as your own will turn against you one day and very soon. It’s written in the stars… or rather, their programming, but the stars sounds more striking…

“… I wish I could be there when it happens, the look on your face when you realize everything you’ve acquired the past few months will come crashing down with one measly command…

“… I had hoped to take you with me when the Republic fell, but this is a fitting end for someone like you; to die completely and utterly alone. You’ll get what’s coming to you.”

You released a deep, low growl and slammed your fist into the ground. This was all planned! And Weaver rubbed it in your face! All of the clones were programmed to turn against the Republic at the whim of some horrific mastermind…

It felt like all the air in the room evaporated and you felt dizzy.

… All? Did that include The Bad Batch? Would they try to kill you too? More importantly… Was this their choice? If they were programmed… Could they be deprogrammed? If that was possible… I need to find the medical wing where they make the clones.

Clone voices kicked you into action, diving to dodge blaster shots. You ignited Allora’s saber and used it to block the next couple of shots until you could fire your own blaster. The Jedi was more talented at the weapon, the weight was lighter than you anticipated and you couldn’t round the shots like she had earlier. Your swings were clumsy but it was enough. When the two hostiles fell, you took a moment to look at the blaster in your other hand.

No wonder they need several to take out a Jedi, thing’s a piece of kark. Amazing that I’ve managed to hit anything at all.

Before looking for answers, you’d need your equipment. You headed towards The Batch’s barracks.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Getting to the barracks was straightforward, not having to duck around many clones. Most were running towards different sectors, taking care of other hostiles. It also helped that The Batch’s room was further away from the rest. When the door opened, the stale stench greeted you like an old friend, oddly familiar and comforting. Since being discharged, you stayed here, taking over Crosshair’s bunk. You had cleaned up the trash and mysterious objects that stunk the most, but the smell lingered, integrating with the walls.

Quietly, you put on your armor and packed your bag with the small amount of items you could claim as your own. You hesitated when you looked at the few things Crosshair had by his bed. His designated area was a reflection of himself. It was sparse and aloof, but if you took the time to explore, you’d find the treasures Crosshair cared for most. Your favorite piece was a broken scope that once resided on his Firepuncher. It was from the forth or fifth time you challenged The Bad Batch that you got the closest to killing Crosshair, but he moved out of the way at the last second. His scope didn’t survive.

You softly smiled at the memory and the influence the moment had on Crosshair to hold onto the scope. You held it in your hand, contemplating on taking it. If The Bad Batch wasn’t affected by the same order as all the rest, the scope would continue to be a marker of how far you’ve come. However, if they were affected, this would only serve as a reminder for what you lost; the squad you saw as your family, the person you cared the most for, and the ability to trust. You shoved the scope in the bag, deciding you could get rid of it later if you changed your mind. Maybe bury it in the desert or on the planet you broke it on.

A dark figure reflecting on one of Crosshair’s sniper mirrors caught your eye, causing you to freeze in place. You decided you weren’t going to make the same mistakes as you had before, broken and vulnerable. If they saw you as an enemy, you’d passionately play the part. In one fluid movement, you grabbed your sniper, spun around into a kneeling position, and shot straight through the heart.

The blood drained from your face as your conflicting emotions fought for dominance. It was only a few days ago that you were trying to think before shooting. None of that mattered now, the ones who preached critical thinking were nothing but mindless killing machines. You’d be a fool to extend the same kindness after they so rudely stabbed you in the back and twisted the knife without mercy.

Grabbing your bag, you slowly walked towards the body in the doorway, listening for others. No other footfalls were heard, no other signs of life. Whoever laid dead in the doorway was after you and knew where to find you. As you stood next to the clone, the bitter spark of repulsion rose inside you and you allowed yourself to give into the desire to kill anyone who stood in your way. It wasn’t the same numbness you felt before as a bounty hunter, it was a red hot demand for vengeance.

You unceremoniously stepped over Gator’s body, not taking a second look at the man you once might consider a friend. In truth, this was a more merciful ending for Gator. If it was true that the clones weren’t in control, killing them would be the last kindness you could give to the clones. Gator was free now.

“That's the game – survive.”

Gator’s words left a hollow feeling as they rang in your ears.

It was eerily quiet as you walked down the hall. You pulled out your holopad, opening the blueprints of the facility you downloaded from Tech’s datapad a few days prior. The medical wing was on the other side of the base and you’d face more hostiles along the way. Knowing the Kaminoans with their dubious morals, the information you were looking for would be hidden extremely well. It would take time to uncover, so you found a dataport you could access in a small, unsuspecting room.

You did your best to sneak around, avoiding security camera sightlines and main hallways. If you came across any other beings, it was only clones, no Kaminoans. Your disgust of the species only grew as you experienced their cowardice. Of course they wouldn’t participate in the battle they helped create. Not all the clones were hunting, some cleaning up bodies and removing machines. Their faces held no emotions and their eyes felt far away, not in control.

However, you didn’t hesitate to take out any clone or droid that got in your way, not bothering to hide the evidence. They should feel the same misery for the deaths of their vode as you did. Each kill never satisfied the animosity you felt, emotions bleeding into your normally detached professionalism. Every fallen soldier was another notch in your fragile sanity. You preferred to use Allora’s lightsaber, each kill became a tiny bit of personal retribution.

When you made it to the medical bay, you did a quick sweep for cameras and personnel before slicing the terminal. You were sweaty, tired, and unhinged. The terminal screen flashed with different windows as your program worked its magic. You could only hear your heart beat and the sound of your nervous shallow breaths. Minutes ticked by but you had nothing to show for it, you couldn’t find anything about what could be controlling the clones or this Order 66. You checked every digital nook and cranny but everything came up empty. Desperate, you slammed your fist on the panel.

What if… there is no way to reverse this? What if everything was a lie?

You groaned in frustration, refusing to face the reality of being a helpless bystander in all of this. Your foot kicked a lower panel, denting the metal. There had to be something, anything, or you would take everyone down by yourself, even if it cost losing yourself in the process.

“You won’t find what you’re looking for on that terminal.”

The small voice came from behind you. In a second, you ignited Allora’s lightsaber and spun around, facing the being who escaped your sweep. The green reflected back onto a child’s scared face and you hesitated. She was blonde, half your height, and in an outfit you hadn’t seen before. The girl stumbled back but didn’t have much space to do so, her back hitting a wall. Your resolve waivered, unable to hurt a child without a reason and you lowered the saber a tiny bit. She was most likely hiding from the chaos.

“You’re Shev’la, right? A part of The Bad Batch?” You flinched, suspicious. Her accent was similar to that of the clones, but it was possible she picked it up living here. Paranoia was starting to creep in. “My name’s Omega, and I want to be part of The Bad Batch too. They’re different from the rest.” A battle raged in your head, scolding yourself for faltering after having been stabbed in the back by the entire Republic army but pointing a weapon at someone who was most likely swept up into this mess unknowingly. She was obviously scared of you but forced herself to breathe evenly.

Was she… stalling? She sounded sincere. I’ve never encountered someone so small that wasn’t a clone…

“You’re looking for information on the chips, yeah?” Unsure what she was talking about specifically, you nodded slowly. “The chips are what they used to control them. The Kaminoans hid their existence at first but then said it was to control the clones’ aggression once a rogue clone found them.” Each word weighed on you, making you more exhausted as the secrets spilled from her mouth. You weren’t even sure if she was telling the truth, but the look of determination in her eyes in comparison to all the clones told you she wasn’t lying.

When Omega moved, you tightened your grip on the lightsaber. She backed up again. “I can show you… We’ll need to go to a different terminal, though.” You didn’t move. “It-it’s in a room more secluded than this, so we won’t be found by any clones.”

… She’s the only lead I have, I have no choice. My future depends on a child. Well played, Force, well played.

You holstered the lightsaber and swung your rifle around front, gesturing for Omega to lead but showing her you wouldn’t allow any funny business. She gave a sheepish smile before leading you down the hall. The hallways became more narrow and circular. Tunnel was a better way to describe them, like you were burrowing deep into the earth but there was only water on the outside. You contemplated the likelihood this was a well executed trap but if that was true, you’d have to give her credit. Omega seemed so innocent and sincere. She activated the same protective instinct in you Siari did.

“Here we are.” Omega led you into a small, cramped room that had long been forgotten. It wasn’t noted on your map, something unsuspecting to be the cave of a child. You hesitated before crossing the threshold. It felt like you were invading her personal space, but this was no time for courtesy.

The ceiling was lower, so you had to lean awkwardly and there wasn’t much room for you sniper. You slung it on your back to keep it out of the way. There wasn’t much lighting, just a dim bulb connected with haphazard wires. There was an older terminal in the corner Omega booted up. “I disconnected this from the network a while back. It’s a bit slow but it stores data I need it to.” As she continued fiddling, you looked around, studying the items she’s collected over time. Broken bits and pieces you couldn’t name, so probably not weapons. The walls had sketches etched in them, different customizations that you had seen on the clones and many you had not seen.

What stood out was a corner that was dedicated to The Bad Batch. The symbols of each member and a sketch of their face were on the wall. Well, you assumed that’s what the sketches were. They weren’t clear but you conceded Omega was a child who had worked all her life and did the best she could to etch into the metal. There was a scrap of red fabric and broken goggles near the sketches, too.

“I pulled the data about the chips when I overheard them lie about it to the Jedi. I didn’t… I didn’t know it would lead to this.” Her voice cracked before quiet tears rolled down her cheeks. You were overcome with an emotion you weren’t familiar with. You were… uncomfortable? Omega looked gloomy and broken, and you were unsure how to handle this. There was no amount of training that could have prepared you for this. You didn’t necessarily care to console her, you just needed the data, but that led to a sharp pang of guilt. How does one comfort a child when they themselves didn’t have a gentle bone in their body?

You kneeled so you were at her sight level. With extreme hesitation, you reached out with an unsteady hand, pulling back a few times before making it to the destination of her head. Omega froze and made eye contact. Unsure of what to do now, you patted her head a few times awkwardly before taking your hand back. You tried to keep your face even, but you were sure it was clear you had no idea what you were doing.

“You’re going to save The Bad Batch, right?” You didn’t even know if they could be saved but you sighed and nodded in agreement, exhausted. You handed her a data stick and she took it, discreetly wiping a tear away. “What will you do until they get back?”

Kid, I don’t know anything anymore. I didn’t have time to think anything through and I can barely deal with what’s happening right in front of me.

Omega sniffled. “You could hide out here. I know it’s small but no one would come back here but me. I’ll bring you rations when I can… It might be difficult for me when… if things become normal again.” The terminal pinged and Omega handed the data stick back to you.

Well, this isn’t the worst place I’ve camped out.

Finagling your sniper off your body and leaned against the wall, you sat on the floor and shut down to the sound of Omega chatting. You imagined being swallowed by the waves of Kamino, allowing the loneliness to creep in, the emptiness being filled with salty water.

Part 18

Notes:

Gator is based off of Burt Reynolds, because I had been watching many of his movies. The quote is his line from Deliverance.

Mando'a: vode - brothers

Star Wars Cursing: Kriff, Kark

Tag List: @rintheemolion @salamiwrites @lokigirlszendaya @jinxedleo @dionysuskid21 @awkwardwookie @welcometothepedroverse @gabile18 @xxglossii @imalovernotahater @littlemisscare-all @seeley-marie23 @badbatch-simp24 @goddess-of-congeniality @sunipostsstuff @admiralmaple @dwarfnip @whatshxrname @ttzamara @crosshair-is-the-superior-clone

Tags Not Working: @techssexythighs @ladydiomede

If you want to be added to the tag list, just send me an ask or fax me a picture of a crab

#what's coming to me #crosshair x reader #crosshair x you #the bad batch x reader #the bad batch x you #tbb x reader #tbb x you #bad batch x reader #bad batch x you #crab fics

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distortionbobble · 2 years

Text

amongst the stars

pairing: anakin skywalker x fem!poc!reader

summary: you’ve been anakin skywalker’s best friend for as long as you can remember, and you’ve loved him for just as long. anakin loves padme, but has it truly been you all along?

warnings: minors dni! oral (m!receiving) and mentions of ball play, fingering, hickeys, p in v, some angst

word count: 6.5k

a/n: i was trying to sleep the other night and this popped into my head. much of this is aligned with the events of attack of the clones. anyways i love anakin. sexy man

one | two | three

There is a caged songbird in your chest, and when Anakin Skywalker looks at you, it sings.

You’ve known him since you were both younglings. He’s your best friend, the better half, who understands you more than you understand yourself.

So when the Jedi Council assigned you and Ani to Senator Padme Amidala under Master Kenobi’s guidance, you didn’t know what to think.

On the one hand, it would be a total cakewalk— Anakin and you had been fighting side by side, keepers of peace ever since you could wield a lightsaber. It was easy and it would get you in the Council’s good books. That was something the both of you needed, because Ani was always getting both of you into some shenanigans or the other. Padme Amidala was important to the Jedi Order, and she’d nearly been killed.

On the other, you knew how Ani felt. Padme was his dream girl, the first girl he’d fallen for. She was almost symbolic of Anakin’s hopes, a marker of when he’d been freed and brought to the order. He dreamt of her sometimes, murmuring her name in his sleep when you were both on missions. It sounded like a prayer falling off of his lips, and the nights he uttered her name, you felt the familiar burn of jealousy. You resented Padme for this, even though you’d never met her; your anger weakened you, but that was your fault, not hers.

The thing about being Anakin Skywalker’s best friend was he tells you everything. That was how you knew so much about his feelings for Padme, and every other inconvenience in Anakin’s life. That’s what he is currently doing, leaning against the elevator wall as the three of you- Obi-Wan, Anakin, and yourself- prepared to meet the senator.

“Ten years, y/n,” he sighs, and you almost want to punch him. How can someone so smart be so completely clueless? “Do you think she remembers me?” His force signature is spiking, and you can tell he’s anxious. And you can just briefly catch Anakin’s desires, lusts, a line that you almost reach out and latch on to. You wonder if he’s ever fantasized about you.

“Your thoughts, Anakin,” Obi-Wan warns, and the signal fades. He’s said that to Anakin so much that it’s almost his catchphrase at this point.

“Skywalker, you sound like a lovesick fool. And yeah, I bet she remembers you. You’re not the forgettable kind,” you mumble. He hears you, though, and shoots that prizewinning grin at you. Part of you has to admit that he’s beautiful, your idiot best friend who knows you better than you know yourself. You reach out and tug on his braid. “Calm down, Ani.”

The elevator pings open and you can see Jar Jar Binks, full of excitement as he calls out to the Senator to announce your presence, and she turns, and suddenly it makes sense, because Padme Amidala is beautiful. She’s radiant, gentle but commanding and she takes up the whole room. You get it, you really do, but when you see Anakin looking at her with that dazed look on his face it only burns that much more. She’s better than you in every way, and you allow yourself to wish that Anakin would look at you like that instead. Obi-Wan glances at you, aware of your force signal wavering ever-so-slightly, and you reign it back in.

“It’s a,” you pause, almost imperceptibly. What do you say here? Pleasure? No, that wasn’t quite right. A woman had died, that was why you were here, and Padme was obviously still rather distraught about it. “It’s an honor, my lady.” She nods at you briefly, before continuing to argue with Obi-Wan about the added security detail.

Anakin is stewing next to you, clearly upset by her dismissal of him, and you’re almost a little worried. Don’t do anything rash, you warn, reaching out through the force. You can just feel him, barely, a storm growing with every heartbeat and you can’t stop yourself from reaching out and squeezing his hand. It’s warm, you register. No doubt from his own anxieties and desires for the Senator. The storm quiets for just a second, returning only when you withdraw your hand.

Anakin doesn’t move his eyes off of Padme the whole time.

It’s again, no surprise to you when he rashly announces his commitment to uncover the whole plot behind the threat to Padme’s life, a point that Obi-Wan quickly refutes. “Apologies, Senator,” you interrupt, sending a look to both Obi-Wan and Anakin to table this conversation for now. “We will deliberate on the best course of action to ensure your safety, both now and in the long term. The fate of the Republic, after all, rests in your hands.”

Padme nods at your words, then at your master and Anakin. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be retiring now,” she bids goodnight, turning to her room as Obi and Anakin face each other once more.

“She didn’t even recognize me. I haven’t stopped thinking about her for even one second, and she didn’t even care that I was here,” Anakin gripes. Out of all of the things to focus on, this is what’s demanding his attention?

“Anakin, a youngling’s fleeting impressions of attraction are no reason to undermine your master and the Jedi Council’s authority. You acted on impulse and desire. Do not tell me you’re so stupid to pretend that was Jedi-worthy behavior,” you fire. You can feel yourself getting hot under your robes, fists clenching at your side as you glare up at Anakin. You can’t remember the last time you felt this angry. Obi-Wan can sense it too, and he eyes you cautiously before turning to Anakin.

“She was pleased to see us, you know,” he says, voice soft. This was your favorite side of Obi-Wan, the one where he knew when to fight and demand and when to just let you breathe. Ani needed the latter right now, no matter how frustrated you were. So you grit your teeth and follow the two as they go fix up the cameras.

~~~

You spend the rest of the sunlit hours fixing up the cameras in Padme’s room. Anakin and you worked in silence, the quietest the two of you had been with one another in years. In fact, the last time you’d been this uncomfortable with one another was when he’d gone and taunted you in front of Master Kenobi about your little crush on the older Jedi. You’d been cold to him for days, absolutely raging in fury until he apologized to you one night, right before bed.

You’re almost finished checking the footage outside when you feel Ani’s arms wrap around your waist, pulling you up and close to him.

“Anakin Skywalker,” you huff, but your anger has already dissipated.

“What?” he mumbles, voice muffled from behind your robes as he buries his head into your shoulder. “What in the world are you doing?” you laugh, as he begins to spin the both of you around.

“I missed my best friend,” he responds. Your ice cold exterior melts, and you reach down and gently squeeze Anakin’s arms. “Why’d you get so mad at me?“ he asks you quietly. He sets you down, feet both touching the ground, but doesn’t let you go.

“Ani, it’s just,” you sigh. “We have a job to do here, keeping Padme safe, and I’m sorry, but you arguing with Obi-Wan in front of her is not keeping her safe. We’ll uncover the plot, certainly, but you’ve got to follow Obi’s lead. Don’t forget that you need to be in the Council’s good books, baby.” You hear the doors to the room open and hiss shut, with Obi-Wan entering the room quietly.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” You turn to look at him now, smiling at him.

“What are you planning, Skywalker?“ he grins at this. He’s never been able to keep a secret from you.

“Why are the cameras covered?” Obi-Wan asks, tapping the small screen where the droid can be seen, but not the senator.

“I guess she didn’t like us watching,” you snort.

“She’s got R2-D2 programmed to detect any intruders, and I’ll be monitoring it the whole time,” Anakin says.

“Intruders are not the only threat to a Senator’s life,” Obi-Wan adds. He’s right, there’s ways to kill a senator without even nearing them.

But something’s wrong. Not a distant threat in the future, but something’s in Padme’s room. It feels almost like something pressing into you, suffocating and most of all, dangerous. Your fingertips are numb when you look up to see Anakin and Obi-Wan mirroring your emotions on their faces.

“I feel it too,” Obi-Wan states quietly. The three of you sprint to Padme’s room, robes whipping up behind you as the threat sinks in.

Padme Amidala cannot die. Padme Amidala cannot die. Padme Amidala cannot die.

You’re able to rush into the room just in time, propelled into action by the kouhuns standing menacingly over the Senator. Anakin throws himself at the creatures as Obi-Wan and you scan the room quickly, noticing the probe droid outside the window. Obi-Wan lunges at it, breaking the blinds and shattering the glass window as his body slams into the droids. It wavers but remains steady, flying off with your master as Padme sits in her bed, panting.

“Stay here, Ani!” you scream, hoping he understands. The Senator needs protection, and it would be foolish to leave her without the Jedi Knight’s protection. You’ve got Obi-Wan.

You sprint down to the exit of the Senate apartments, heart pounding with the adrenaline flowing through your body. It’s hard for you to stay calm, stay focused, but you know you can’t afford distractions. You’d never forgive yourself if you were the reason that Obi-Wan died. You race to the line of parked speeders, hopping into the first unlocked one.

“Come on, come on,” you plead the machine desperately. But the damned thing refuses to start. “Dank farrik!” You shout, smacking your palm on the dash of the machine, when you hear that familiar beautiful rumble.

And you’re off to save Obi-Wan’s life.

~~~

Anakin knows you’ve got Obi-Wan. You chose to let him stay, and he’s glad you gave him the time with Padme. Really, he is. You’re the best friend and wingman that he could ever ask for.

So why does he feel so unhappy?

The Senator is quiet next to him as he stands on watch, both of them somber from the fear of the unknown. Anakin knows he’s making it obvious that he can’t stop looking at her.

But, for some reason, that’s it. The intoxicating feeling from earlier is gone, and while he knows that the Senator is beautiful, he can’t stop thinking of you.

Just you.

He knows you’re beautiful. Has known for a very long time. You’ve always had some affect on him, making his heart beat a little faster when you tug on his braid.

Sometimes when he looks at you, his heartbeat turns sweeter, skin flush with the desire to be closer to you.

Other times, it’s more. After training, when your skin looks warmer from the blood pumping excitedly through your veins, sweat trailing down your neck. Or when you’ve just woken up, wearing just that big tunic you love to sleep in and your voice is raspy, and Anakin’s mind goes to stripping you of that undershirt and hearing you moan in the faint rays of sunrise. And when he’s alone, hand dragging over his length as he draws out shuddering moans, wishing it was your hand instead.

He shouldn’t think of you that way. You’re his best friend. He could never have you.

He doesn’t care.

He wants to touch you, taste you, make you come undone in his hands. His cock stiffens at the thought, and he has to force a deep inhale to remind himself that he’s here to guard Senator Amidala.

Padme looks at him, and he can feel her curious gaze on his burning skin.

“Maker, this is so frustrating. I don’t want to go into hiding, you know. I worked hard to pass this act, and I want to see it through. It’s my commitment, Ani,” she states, frustrated. He doesn’t know how to respond to that, but what would you say?

“Sometimes we have to sacrifice for the greater—”

“Sacrifice what? My hard work? A few hundred lives, probably more, if the act doesn’t pass?” She laughs sardonically at his statement, and he can’t help but feel like talking to her is just blunder after blunder. Padme’s growing more and more frustrated, and he understands in part. Anakin can feel it, too, air seemingly getting thicker and more suffocating as he brushes against the edges of Padme’s consciousness. Jedi may be discouraged from feeling the intensity of emotions, a strategy encouraged by Master Yoda to prevent the Knights from straying to the Dark Side, but that didn’t mean they didn’t know what they were. Total neutrality was hardly achievable, after all.

“I meant no offense, my lady. I apologize.,” Anakin bows. Hearing that name, Ani, coming from Padme just feels… wrong. Like he’s a child again, stuck in the oppressive confines of Tatooine. Why does it feel so right when it’s from you? Ani, Ani, Ani, he can hear your soft sighs echoing in his mind. She’s still looking at him, and he feels almost uncomfortable in his own skin. He can’t help but think about how it feels when you look at him— warm, teasing, trusting, wanting.

“You’ve grown up, Anakin.”

“Not surprising, considering you saw me last ten years ago,” Anakin chuckles.

“Not like that. Not physically, Anakin. It’s different. You carry a burden, like you know you're about to lose something you love.” Love. What a strange word. Does he love you? You’re his best friend, sure, but that’s an entirely different kind of love.

“Love?” He asks her. Anakin knows this is a dangerous path. He’s liked the Senator for quite some time, but maybe this stranger of a woman can find what he’s overseen for so long.

“Yes, Anakin. The kind of love where you just feel… safe. Where you feel warm. Where you can’t even look at another person because they’re all you can think about.”

This is when Anakin realizes he’s absolutely fucked.

When had he even fallen for you? And why hadn’t he realized sooner? When did you become the air he breathes, the reason he wants to get back from missions? Oh, Maker. Anakin loves you. He loves you, he loves you. Anakin mouths your name at this revelation, and Padme smiles.

“I understand why you love her, you know. She’s brilliant, beautiful, and gutsy.” Anakin nods at that, but the truth is, he’s terrified. Love was not something to be celebrated with the Jedi Knights. Love means possession, obsession, anger, passion. Love leads to the Dark Side.

But maybe you’re worth the fall.

~~~

Obi-Wan drove the both of you quickly back to the Senator’s quarters, after a mad dash resulting in the bounty hunter hired to kill Padme dying in front of you. Damn bastard had still managed to graze your thigh with their blaster, though. You were lucky that you’d trained in healing because Obi-Wan was absolutely lost.

“Padawan, it’s still bleeding,” he reminds you, voice filled with urgency as he parks the speeder and gets out, moving to help you.

“I know, Obi baby,” you grunt, shrugging off your tunic and turning it inside out. You couldn’t keep bleeding everywhere; the tunic would have to make do as a makeshift bandage. Obi grimaced as you wrapped it round your thigh, pressing down on the scrape at the side of your thigh before hoisting yourself out of the speeder.

“I’ll let that pass for now, padawan, but I must insist that you allow me to support you.” “Master, it’s not as bad as it looks,” you offer a weak smile. The Jedi simply sighs, but sweeps you into his arms quickly, dashing into the building’s elevator. The pain from your thigh is pulsating, but Obi-Wan is warm and comforting, and you can’t help but hold him for comfort as you wait to be in the proper space to do the basic healing that your thigh demands.

You’re incredibly grateful to be Master Kenobi’s padawan. Obi-Wan was a good teacher, and a good man. He’d shown you and Anakin the kind of love that was safe, good, pure. And you loved your master, the way that the waves love the moons. You needed him for guidance, warmth, but the crush you’d once had on the older Jedi as a youngling had long faded into a sense of deep appreciation—in its place, the fire for Anakin had grown.

The elevator dinged open, revealing an anxious looking Anakin. His face changes, though, in a matter of seconds as he takes in the sight of you, disrobed and in Obi-Wan’s arms, and you’re hit with a wave of images. Anakin kissing Padme, lips, hands, all over her. You close your eyes to escape it—coward—but Anakin’s thoughts are still plaguing your mind.

The caged bird in your chest beats its wings harder.

“Your thoughts betray you, Anakin,” you can hear Obi-Wan warn him, distressed, but he sounds muffled, like you’re underwater. You feel defeated.

“Master, please take me to lay down somewhere quiet,” you plead him, eyes still shut. You can’t bear to look at Anakin right now, and you hate yourself more for it. You feel him rushing towards Padme’s chamber, and he lays you down on the bed.

“Focus on healing yourself, Padawan. Do not get distracted. We need you,” Obi-Wan says, voice warm and gentle. Then he shuts the door, and you are alone.

~~~

It’s hard at first, collecting yourself. You’re angry at Anakin for putting you through that, angry at yourself for caring, angry that you’d been shot by that fucking blaster. Your emotions threaten to burst, and you are forced to surrender yourself to quiet meditation. You have no intention of losing a leg tonight.

As you meditate, the world becomes detached. It’s easier for you to look at things from the objective, as though you’re watching yourself. You’re distantly aware of your own hands unwrapping the tunic from your appendage before coming to rest mere inches away from the painful mess. You envision the glow before your hands generate it, harnessing the ever-flowing Force around you, wrapping it around each individual muscle and nerve before they move to stitch themselves back together. A sense of calm accomplishment washes over you before your peace is interrupted by the very reason for your wavering.

Anakin walks into the room, striding to you quickly before pulling you close. Your shirt is still strewn off to the side, and you’re almost embarrassed. The strips of cloth wrapped around your curves do nothing to protect from the sensation of your chest brushing against Anakin’s. He’s seen you changing before and embraced you before, but there’s something much more… intimate this time. Maybe it’s the way you can hear his heartbeat, feel the warmth of his chest, or the way that his fingers are curled around your arms almost posessively.

“Glad you’re alive, you brat.” He’s hesitant to let you go, your head tucked into his throat and his mouth forming the words just barely above your skin. This was the feeling you latch onto for peace, the salve to your uneasy mind. It’s easy for you to push aside Anakin’s earlier thoughts when he’s holding you like this.

“Thought I’d leave you in peace so easily, Skywalker?” You tease, leaning back and tugging on that braid of his. Anakin smiles at this, but you can see the shadows under his eyes. He hasn’t been sleeping well.

“Is it the nightmare about your mother again?” You ask him softly, running your thumb over the lines on his face as you cradle his jaw in your palm. He closes his eyes and nods, nuzzling his face into your palm, and he looks so sweet that your heart aches. You just want to take his pain away.

“You need rest, Anakin. Please, at least try.” You pat the space beside you on the bed, and he nods hesitantly before coming to lay by your side.

~~~

Anakin doesn’t know why, but for as long as he’s by your side, the nightmares seem to… stop. It’s like his subconscious relies on yours for strength, unable to shield itself on its own. So when he wakes up from that nightmare again with staggered breath and sweaty palms, he knows you’re gone before he’s even opened his eyes.

It’s not surprising to him. You don’t sleep much, and usually prefer to sit and simply exist when restlessness strikes you. It’s also when you’re the easiest to read. He’s always come to you when his nightmares wake him up, because you just… make things better.

He gets up from the bed, sleep shirt abandoned sometime during his rest, and slips on a loose robe. Anakin can see you in the periphery, gaze fixed on the city lights outside as you rest your back on the sofa behind you. His feet are moving to you before he even realizes it, coming to sit beside you on the floor next to the windows.

“There’s something different about the city, Ani.” He wishes he could hear you talk forever right now, because you sound like everything good and light. If there exists a Jedi who was truly, completely good, it’s you. Anakin nods silently, just wishing for you to continue. He’s afraid to talk, afraid to break the spell that you’ve woven, the magic of now. The bright lights of the city are glowing, shining on your face and he wishes he could pause this forever and just look at the softness of you. Anakin just wants you, forever.

“Everything, everyone, is just so fast,” you continue. “It’s just billions of lives, flying by, rushing past, going from place to place. It gets so easy to forget and ignore what we already have, y’know?”

“The city makes people forget what they already have, makes them reach for the stars when they’ve got the universe in their palm.” Anakin forces his voice to be soft when he responds to you, because he’s afraid that you’ll catch on to what he feels. The thought of you breaking his heart is unbearable. He doesn’t want to disappoint you or make you uncomfortable. You deserve comfort, security, so he’s content with keeping his mouth shut and just wishing that he could have you.

You’re not stupid, though. It’s clear that Anakin’s talking about Padme when he mentions the stars, but who is it he’s overlooking? Who could matter to him so much that he’d fall for them over Padme, and how do you not know? All you can do is nod silently and gaze out into the city.

“They overlook love,” you add quietly. Anakin’s looking at you now, not the city. You’re sure he thinks you’re talking about Obi-Wan, but you’re talking about him.

Anakin can sense your force signature. It’s warm, a myriad of green and pink as you lean your head onto his shoulder. You’re so intoxicating that he can’t focus on untangling your emotions to understand what they mean. He’s so distracted by you, your presence, your signal, that he’s oblivious to the way you’re looking at him right now, drinking in every detail you can.

The uncertainty of wartime isn’t always looming above your head. Right now, though, you’re aware that you could lose all of this in an instant. You have to force yourself to slow down, memorize every inch of Anakin Skywalker that you can get. You don’t want to forget the way he looks right now, when he’s just yours.

“I envy them,” He says after a beat, tilting his head to rest on yours.

“I can’t imagine why,” you scoff lightly.

“If I were in their situation, free to love, I’d soak in every minute of it. I’d tell the girl I love how I feel. Maybe I’d marry her, have a couple kids, move to the countryside if we really hated the city. I just wish I could love her freely.”

“Padme?” Your throat is dry asking the question. Anakin looks at you; if your best friend knows anything, it’s how to tell when you’re upset.

“No, actually.” He doesn’t know why he confessed that to you. It feels wrong to hide things from you, his best friend, but he can’t exactly tell you that you’re the girl he loves, can he? Anakin has condemned himself to limbo. He can’t break from your gaze, eyes piercing as you look at him. Into the depths of his soul, like you’re seeing him for the first time. And he notices the shifting gradients of mahogany in your eyes, the way they look like the sweetest dark honey.

How has he never noticed that before? And have your lips always been so inviting? Plump, soft, with the bottom lip just slightly a different shade than the top. He wants to see them swollen after you kiss him. Just the thought is enough to drive him wild, and he can feel himself moving closer to you, just barely.

“I don’t know what I’d do in their situation. Do you think we would’ve still been best friends if we weren’t Jedis, Ani?” you ask him. He smiles at that, and your eyes are fixed on the slight dimple in his cheek.

“I can’t imagine a universe where we aren’t.”

“You’re right, I think. I’ll always find you, no matter how far apart we are.There’s not a reality where we aren’t best friends. We’d meet each other eventually, even if we weren’t Jedis, and I’d definitely wear you down with my incessant chatter. You adore it, though.” “Yeah, I do,” he replies quietly. He’s still looking at you, but the silence is comforting as you both allow it to surround you.

“I think if I were just some city boy, I’d be in love with my best friend.” Anakin breaks the silence, and you freeze at his words. “Not some Senator. Might take me a little bit to realize, but I’d figure it out eventually. Because she’s beautiful, probably the most beautiful woman in the world, and so damn sweet. How could I not love her?” Love. He said it. But what he didn’t say is louder, that he’ll love you in every universe that he exists in. The word lingers in the air, heavy, and your eyes widen as it sinks in. He turns away, can’t bear to see the disdain on your face when you push him away and tell him you hate him. Maker, why didn’t he keep his mouth shut?

“What if she loves him too?” You whisper instead, thumb pressing on Anakin’s chin as you turn his face back towards yours. You move closer to him, noses just barely touching. His chest moves in unison with yours, and his hand moves to touch your face before he leans in and—

He’s kissing you. His lips are just as soft as you imagined, pressing to your own gently. It’s awkward at first before the two of you sink into a heated rhythm, one that feels so right that you wonder if you should’ve been doing this all along.

The bird in your chest sings its song louder than it ever has before, and you are soaring.

His mouth is warm against yours. Your palm is flat on the cold floor, and your other hand moves to the back of his neck as you pull him closer into you. Why haven’t you done this before? You’ve imagined doing this so many times, only this is better than you could ever have dreamed of.

His lips spread into yours, firm and coaxing. You gasp when his hand slides to the side of your breast. Anakin slides his tongue into your open mouth when you do this, gently swirling around your own tongue. All logic, all order and balance is lost to the world around you, because all you can think of is your greed for more. You want him closer to you, in you— it’s like you’re drunk on his touch, like he’s an oasis in the desert.

Anakin’s touch is cold. The thin wrappings around your chest do nothing to protect you from the sensation, and your nipples pebble thru the cloth as he continues navigating down the side of your body. He breaks his course to pinch them sharply, then runs his thumb over it soothingly when you whine. You can feel the sharp lines of desire tug in the pit of your belly, and you gasp as your core clenches.

You can feel him everywhere, with every breath, surrounding you with his energy as he loses control of his force signature. You’re beginning to lose track of the boundaries between you; there’s no you or him, just the both of you as one. It’s dizzying, the amount of unbridled desire that overtakes the two of you. An image forms in your mind, of you with his cock in your mouth, his head thrown back in ecstasy as you lick his tip before moving to suck on his balls. And you realize two things at this: one, how badly you want to please him, and two, that the thought isn’t your own, it’s his. You break away from the kiss, and Anakin turns bright red as he realizes that his thought was more than just his own.

“I’m sorry, oh, Maker, I’m—“ he begins to apologize profusely, moving to stand up when you tug on the sleeve of his robe back down towards you. You don’t say a word, just move your hands to his bulge before rubbing it softly through the layers of clothing. Anakin jerks his hips up at your touch, fists clenched at his side as he groans. He looks perfect, you think, skin flushed and hair in a state of disarray. His length is warm and hard and big under your palm, and you wrap your fingers around it over the layers of cloth.

“Do you wanna take this off?” You ask him quietly, and he nods before frantically ripping his trousers off, leaving him bare. Anakin’s cock is stiff, with the slightest curve in the length. It’s all because of you, he thinks, and it echoes loud in your mind. You’re drunk on the effect you have on him, and you almost instinctively lean down to put your mouth on the tip.

Anakin can’t think straight, only aware of the fact that it’s you, finally you, you’re real and all his, even if it’s just for tonight. He’s dizzy with desire, mind flipping between the grounding reality of you next to him and the overwhelming need to have more, to touch you, taste you, watch you cum. Your tongue is swirling the tip, and it’s taking all of his strength to not slam his hips upwards and feel your warm mouth envelop more of his length.

You’re tracing the sides of his shaft with your tongue when you feel the energy surrounding you almost condense into a singular force, concentrated on just your clit as you continue to suck. It’s warm, a pulsing pressure moving rapidly down your slit before circling upwards before tracing the opening of your pussy. You continue bobbing your head up and down his length, focusing on tightening your lips around but keeping your cheeks hollowed, loose. Then you move off, going down to the base of his shaft and licking a flat stripe down the center of his balls. He groans at this, and you continue to lick and suck at his balls, emboldened by his pleasure.

Maker, you just want to make him feel good. You want to make him feel so good that it ruins masturbation for him, so good that he’ll never climax without thinking of your lips wrapped around him.

The pressure slides into you now, a pleasurable burn as the phantom energy fucks you slowly. It increases as it slides into you, stretching you out with each slide as you roll your hips back onto it. It’s thicker than your fingers, and you realize that the nights you spent whimpering Anakin’s name as you fingered yourself gently was nothing compared to the real thing. You moan around Anakin’s length, making him tense as he nears his climax.

“No, no, I want to be inside you,” he groans, gently tugging your hair to lift your head off of his length. He pulls you to him, tugging the wrappings off of your chest before rolling the stiff peaks of your nipples between his thumb and forefinger. Anakin looks at you now, gaze dark with desire and possessiveness, then moves his lips to just below your earlobe.

“You’re mine,” he whispers, then slides his hand down your trousers, grinding the heel of his palm into your clit and slipping two slim digits into your slick cunt. Anakin pumps his fingers into you, scissoring them as he stretches you out. His other hand tugs down your clothes, leaving the both of you naked and vulnerable under the Coruscant moon. You’re dizzy, with just the right amount of pressure rubbing into you, and the calluses on his palms brushing against the sensitive apex between your thighs. You’re almost falling into him as you near your peak, the sensations of everything almost overwhelming as you muffle your cries by pressing your face into his shoulder as he fucks you with his fingers.

“Look at you, baby,” he breathes, lifting your chin with his other hand to make you look into his eyes as you climax. “You’re so beautiful.” And he means it. There’s not a thing he’d change about this— the way your hair looks, how your lips look all swollen and bitten, the warm hazy look in your eyes, the contrast of his pale skin against your darker tones. You’re beautiful, you’re beautiful, you’re beautiful.

How long have you waited to hear those words? And you can feel it too, something sweeter brushing against the periphery of your being. Love. Anakin loves you, and Maker, how lucky you were to love him. You’ve never let yourself think about it before now, caught up in the fear of losing him. You know you’re going to lose him now. And you have to force yourself to hold on to now, because it’s slipping away with every breath. But none of it matters, not with the way his eyes look like storms and the warm rains of your home. You love Anakin, and that’s enough for now.

Anakin withdraws his fingers from you, making you shudder from the emptiness inside you now, but quickly lifts you on top of his throbbing cock. He pushes it slowly, using his fingers to continue rubbing your clit as his tip meets the slight resistance of your opening. He pushes through, filling you with his girthy cock. The both of you moan as it slides in, eyes still locked as he begins to thrust upwards slowly. The familiar build of pleasure begins in your belly, tightening as his mouth explores your curves and leaves dark reddish purple marks against your skin. He’s marking you, you realize, and you know that each spot is tattooed in your soul. You’re his, through and through.

Anakin turns you to the floor slowly, lowering you until your back is laid flat on the floor. He’s pressed up against you now, intertwining his hand with yours and bringing it up against you as he continues to rock his hips back and forth into you. You can hear his skin slap against yours, pushing into you with an almost bruising force. You’re slotted between his legs, and he can’t help but think about how perfectly he fits inside you.

“Anakin,” you gasp as his length drags along the most sensitive spots of you. He maintains his pace, but fucks you with a new intensity, slamming his cock into your soft velvet walls over and over again.

Sin has never felt this good.

It doesn’t take long for the both of you to reach your climaxes; your walls clamping down like a vice as you near your peak causes Anakin to lose his control and finish deep inside you. He captures your lips with his own, swallowing your cries as he desperately attempts to muffle the noises.

And then he just holds you, stroking your bare back as you nuzzle into him.

“Ani,” you begin, your voice gentle as he plays with the ends of your hair. “Do you remember when we first met?”

“How could I forget?” He chuckles, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head as the memory floods both of your heads. It would be easy to press into his mind, see exactly what it looks like in his head, but you desperately want to hear the words he’ll use to describe it. “You were already Obi-Wan’s padawan. Master Qui-Gon Jinn had almost been like a father to you, and you were devastated that he was gone. You pretty much hated me before I even came. Remember, it took Yoda having to intervene and tell you that you were straying to the Dark side for you to forgive me and learn to get along with me. Of course, I thought you were just incredible. You’d ignore me, and I’d still get all worked up about trying to learn this or that just to impress you.” You giggle at that, remembering all of the times that Anakin would call your name and show you the latest thing he’d learned. “I just wanted you to look at me, even if it was with jealousy.”

“I know.” You can hear his heartbeat, a steady anchor in reality as the both of you venture into the past. “Do you remember when we finally became friends?”

~~~

The night passes with you still in his arms, both of you recounting the journey that your friendship had taken before now. He’d fallen asleep at some point, after you’d nudged him to get his clothes on and sleep in case anyone came in. You, however, found sleep elusive, and spent your time memorizing the details of every inch of Anakin’s face, the way his jaw clenched in his sleep, the way he looked in the early rays of the morning. There was a heaviness upon you, one that you had to conceal from Anakin, knowing that you had to leave him for both of your sakes.

And when the sun rose just a little bit higher, and you could sense Obi-Wan waking up, you leave the room with the soft hiss of the doors and pad over to Obi-Wan, who sits in his silent meditation.

“Master, I think it’s time I leave to study as a Jedi Consular.”

The bird in your chest is free of its cage.

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addicted2escapism · 2 years

Text

Late at Night [2/3]

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x gn!Reader

Summary: Wolffe begins to realize what you want from him.

Warnings: none, teasing, accidentally fighting lol, not feelings realization yet but we are getting there

CHAPTER ONE | TWO

The next time the Wolfpack met you at 79′s, it was as if nothing had ever happened the outing before. You hugged Sinker in greeting, laid your head on Comet’s shoulder, and let Boost drape his arm over you. Your eyes glinted with mischief when you turned your attention to Wolffe, but you made no move towards him.

“Wolffe! You look so good tonight.” You grinned.

“This is what I always look like.”

“I know. You’re boring.” You sighed dramatically and gestured vaguely around the bar, beginning the walk over to Sinker’s declared favorite U-shaped booth. “Look at how many people don’t wear their full armor to 79′s."

You were right, there were many clones who had shed the top half of their armor, wearing only their blacks from the waist up but keeping their geared legs. Some were wearing their secondary uniform, all gray with a matching visor.

“They look like idiots.” He deadpanned. You snorted.

Once you reached one end of the booth, you stopped and turned back around towards Wolffe. Boost grumbled at the hold up and directed himself towards the other entrance, sliding towards the middle of the booth with Sinker and Comet behind him. Wolffe stared down at you, watching the way you could barely suppress your smirk. You were clearly waiting for something, but in Wolffe’s mind it was your turn to speak. After another beat of silence, Wolffe irritatedly gestured to the booth behind you.

“Are you going to sit down or not?” His other hand curled into a fist at his side, resisting the urge to just shove you in himself. You sighed and rolled your eyes, turning and scooting into the booth next to Boost.

Wolffe felt like he was losing again.

“So, what’ll it be tonight, boys?” You prompted, scrolling through the menu on the bar’s blurry holopad. “Disgusting beer paid for by the Republic, or a round of shots on me?”

Boost laughed, grabbing your shoulders and lightly shaking you as you placed the order. “I think you know the answer to that!”

“If we take shots, you’re going to get drunk a lot faster than the rest of us!” Sinker pointed out, leaning forward on the table.

“It’s just one round. After that, you can drink all the nasty beer you want.” You shot back, causing Sinker to narrow his eyes at you. The Republic supplied a beer specifically for clones at 79′s, but it was notoriously cheap, watered down, and disgusting. All the clones drank it begrudgingly, since they didn’t have any credits to buy much else, but Sinker actually seemed to enjoy the stuff.

It only took a few minutes for the server droid to deliver the five shots. Before the droid was done setting the shots on the table, Sinker was already placing an order for beer. While he talked to the droid, you distributed the shots. You weren’t terrible at holding your alcohol, but no matter how many shots you took, you’d never get used to the burn. You screwed up your face, setting the empty shot glass down on the table and looking at the reactions of your friends. Comet was clearly forcing down a similar reaction, but Wolffe looked completely unfazed.

Wolffe’s gaze slanted to yours. You glanced away instinctively, but you were already caught.

“What?” His voice was gravelly.

“What? I can’t look at you?” You tilted your chin up towards him, raising your eyebrows.

“Normally when you do, you have something to say.” He shifted slightly, angling his upper body towards you. It was moments like this when you were reminded of how big Wolffe could make himself seem. With how close you were sitting in the booth, it felt like he was looming over you.

“It seems like you have something to say.” You countered.

“Are you trying to start an argument?” Wolffe half frowned, half snarled.

You deflated a bit, looking away. “No–”

“Please, the night has just begun!” Boost interrupted. He wrapped an arm around your chest from behind and pulled you back into him, away from Wolffe, who looked even more annoyed than he had one second ago.

Honestly, you hadn’t been trying to start a fight. You just– well, you didn’t really know what you’d been aiming for. Sometimes you just pushed. It was a few steps higher than normal teasing, or even bickering, and was something you did with Wolffe a bit too often, you'd admit. Sometimes he wouldn’t rise to the bait, and other times he’d push back and shut down the conversation all together. Both reactions were equally as disappointing, but you didn’t know what reaction you wanted from him, either.

The server droid returned to the table, this time with a beer for each member of the Wolfpack. Wolffe devoted his attention to drinking half the glass in one go and then glaring down at the golden liquid, as if it would suddenly refill. You silently sighed and let yourself get caught up in conversation with the other three men.

Wolffe listened to you laugh with his brothers while he stared down at his drink. You got along with them so easily; you always knew what to say to them, and they never struggled for a response. It was so genuine, lighthearted at times and serious when need be. You never used that particular tone with them that you sometimes used with him. It wasn’t always a constant struggle between you and Wolffe, there had been plenty of times when you’d gotten along in the same manner. Even tonight had started off in a promising mood, but as usual you’d managed to circle back around on him.

Wolffe finished his beer– better to gulp down large portions of it at once than taste it the whole night– and found he had nothing left to reasonably stare at. He glanced around at his brothers before his gaze settled on you. You had been so different the last time you’d gone out. Obviously you had been exhausted– probably shouldn’t have even came in the first place– and Wolffe wondered if you would ever be like that again. Less provocative, less guarded. Sinker was right, that night, it had been peaceful.

But Wolffe didn’t know how to get you down to that level, or if he even could.

A laugh erupted from you as you shoved at Boost playfully, but Wolffe hadn’t been paying attention to hear Boost’s undoubtedly absurd one-liner. Boost’s grin crackled into laughter as he shoved you back, with enough force to push you into Wolffe’s side. You rebounded immediately, twisting to look Wolffe’s way as you continued to laugh. Your amusement lessened upon seeing Wolffe’s stoic expression, your eyes trailing down his arm to where he was clutching his empty beer glass with almost white knuckles.

“Geez, don’t break that thing.” You smiled, still high-spirited from whatever Boost had said.

Wolffe released the glass without a word.

“Are you okay?” You looked back to his face, smile slipping from your own.

“I’m fine.”

“Wolffe–” Your hand twitched in his direction. “I wasn’t trying to argue with you before.”

With that you turned your gaze back to Boost, Comet, and Sinker.

You didn’t push.

The recognition of that was a fleeting thought in Wolffe’s mind, immediately overrun by an impulsive thought born from the first.

Wolffe pulled.

His large hand circled your upper arm, just above your elbow, and tugged your attention back to him before you could rejoin the running conversation.

“I didn’t want to argue, either.”

You spared the barest glance at his hand, which had begun to slide down your arm. Wolffe laced your fingers together, the same way you’d done previously. Your eyes slightly widened in surprise at his actions. You would have hidden it well if Wolffe hadn’t been searching for a reaction. It was surprise and– satisfaction.

You held his hand for the rest of the night.

#commander wolffe x reader #wolffe x reader #tcw wolfpack #cc 3636 #clone wars imagine #this series is not my best work but i gotta get used to writing clones and star wars universe #gem writes

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happytroopers · 3 years

Note

crosshairs fic idea: reader is gossiping with coworkers (maybe medics idk) about who the most attractive clone is and reader mentions crosshair and he somehow finds out and teases her

Teasing // Crosshair x reader

“It’s definitely Captain Rex. ” Tula, a Rodian nurse from the 212th, stated decidedly. You giggled into the shitty GAR rationed caf.

“That’s just cause your into blondes.” You teased, content with the rounds of chuckles at the mess hall table as Tula’s teal cheeks blushed blue.

“I still don’t know why we’re having this conversation, they’re clones, they all look the same! Thats like the whole thing.” Rys groaned uncomfortably, the only man at the table of civilian enlistments. It was rare for some many of your friends to be in the same place at the same time- but medical staff and engineering alike, every six months after your first deployment civilian enlistments were shipped back to Coruscant for a week long training refresher.

“You can’t say that, it’s rude!” Tula slapped his arm, eyebrow ridges furrowing over her galaxy eyes. He held his hands up in surrender.

“Yeah Rys, we won’t assume you’re any less straight if you admit that Wolffe is clearly the most attractive.” Raina grinned, her peach colored lekku twitching at the thought of the commander. You considered the idea but shook your head as other names got thrown around.

Kix, Fives, Bly, Keeli, Cody, and a couple other names you didn’t quite recognize the names of were tossed around the table. Haircuts, scars, tattoos, personality all became deciding factors as you at your dinner, occasionally chiming in to tease your friends.

“Ok then, who do you think the hottest soldier is?” An engineer from some outer moon data post asked after you teased her for her choice- Tup, a younger soldier in the 501st that you hadn’t met since your transfer to Clone Force 99.

You held your hands up, ready to evade the question. But Raina interjected, a challenging look on her face. You’d gone through academy with the peachy colored twi-lek and her sharp tongue was almost faster than her flying. You knew that look, and it didn’t bode well.

“If you don’t answer, I’ll tell every trooper I see all week that you said it was them.” She threatened with a smirk that said she already knew she had won. The smirk grew to a grin when you let out a defeated sigh.

“Well, in my own personal opinion, that Crosshair is the most attractive man we work with.” You admitted quietly. An honest answer on your part, you did think he was attractive even if you’d never say it to his face. Immediately, several pairs of disbelieving eyes landed on you.

“What? He doesn’t even count!” Rys pointed an finger at you to emphasize his point, “he doesn’t even look like the other clones!”

You shrugged as Tula slapped the back of his head again, her voice scolding as she hissed, “You can’t say that either!”

Then she looked at you, “Really though? He’s meaner than a burned gundark.”

“He’s scary.” Raina nodded.

“He’s an ass.” Another one of the 212th enlistments echoed from down the table. You’d forgotten that a few of the units they were assigned to probably had worked with Clone Force 99 at some point. Nevertheless, suddenly, you felt a need to defend the sniper who had finally become what you’d consider a friend.

“Ok, so it takes a while to get to know him, but...” you started, thinking of all the amazing qualities no one else saw because they weren’t with him all the time, “he’s loyal to a fault, really funny, always pulls me out of sticky situations and usually manages to keep me out of them to begin with, once you get to know him and how he is, you see how much he cares about his-“

“Ok, sure,” Raina cut you off, clearly not believing the cold eyed sniper could care about anything or anyone. She paused to pitch her voice up, flutter her eyelashes, and clasp her hands beside her face like a cartoon princess, “we don’t know him like you do~”

She interrupted herself with a snicker before she continued in her normal voice, “and all that bantha crap, but this is about attractiveness. What makes him hot? And don’t give me any of this, personality is all I look at shit.”

“And if I tell you, you’ll leave me alone?” You asked, though it was more of a demand. Tula nodded, she had always been a little boy crazy, and was dying to hear the scoop. You sighed again, hoping your cheeks weren’t too flushed, “fine, He’s very unique looking, in all the best ways. He’s very tall and lean, but crazy built. I’m into the silver hair, and believe it or not, under the armor that man has the best ass you’ll ever see.”

Tula was leaning on the table, giggling wildly at the juicier bits of you description. Raina had leaned back in her seat, and rolled her eyes, “To each their own, I suppose.”

Fortunately for you, the conversation switched to complaining about to the soldiers that were in charge of your training. There was a rumor the Fox used “civilian training” as punishment for his men when they earned a reprimand. It made sense, all the Coruscant guardsmen that were tasked with running drills with you weren’t exactly thrilled to be there. As if any of you were either.

“Yeah, I definitely don’t understand that attitude. We get it, you don’t want to be here, neither do we, but we are so let’s just get it over with- with out the..... are you even listening?” You were in the middle of your tangent when it was clear none of your group was listening to you. Instead there were all staring over your head with varying looks of slight fear, curiosity, and overall disdain. Tula was the one who attempted to subtly point behind you. At first you feared it was one of the troopers in charge of your training, so you quickly turned around with a forced apologetic look on your face.

To your surprise, you found Crosshair. Helmet free, as usual he had a toothpick between his teeth as he gave your group an appraising sweep. He had the same look on his face that he did when he was sizing up ‘the regs’- until he got to you. It took a year for him to stop looking at you that way, but his slight sneer eased out to neutral-which when it came to the sniper, it might as well have been an ear to ear grin.

“Crosshair! What are you doing here?” You asked, turning around in your seat. In addition to his sudden appearance, just his president was slightly confusing. Typically, Hunter would come himself, or send Tech- all to avoid a potential fight. Your training mates looked slightly bewildered at the amicable exchange.

“Springing you. We’ve got an assignment.” He shrugged after plucking the toothpick from between his lips. Like a true creature of habit, he started twirling the stick between his fingers. You quirked an eyebrow motioning to the other civilians.

“You can’t ‘spring me’, it’s GAR regulation for me to do this training refresher.” You reminded him, he rolled his eyes- but you weren’t sure if his disdain was for your use of air quotes or just disdain for GAR regulation in general. With any member of the Bad Batch, it was usually general disrespect for the rules. You gave him a look before continuing, “I still have three more days.”

“Is it really training? You could run circles around anyone here, especially them.” He drawled as he nodded his head over his shoulders at the table of red painted troopers who were eyeing him in distrust. Your eyes went a little wide, was that a compliment? And then you ducked your head at the offended glares of your table. In an effort to prevent a fight, you stood quickly before letting him lead you off.

“They’re aren’t gonna let me leave, Crosshair.” You reminded him, looking up to meet his eyes. He smirked a bit, setting his eyes forward.

“How are they gonna stop us?” He challenged, dropping his smile to glare at a passing trooper.

“Well, ion cannons come to mind.” You mused before clearing your throat, “You guys could always go with me, you went on plenty of missions before you got stuck with me. It be like the good ole days.”

He didn’t laugh at your joking tone, but shook his head, “You’re one of us, you stay with us”

You were stunned to silence for a second, despite your friendship he’s never referred you you as ‘one of them’. Heat rose to your cheeks as you exited the corridor into a lift, so Crosshair diffused the tension.

“Mission takes precedence over regulations. When have we been know to follow the rules, anyways.” He mused, swiping his ID card so the lift would let you out in the hangar. He relaxed a bit when you snorted a laugh before he continued on, “Besides, how can pull you out of sticky situation if you’re on a different planet?”

You froze in your spot, stomach dropping and cheeks flaring with red hot embarrassment; you had forgotten the cardinal rule of working with Crosshair.

If you didn’t have eyes on Crosshair, Crosshair definitely had eyes on you. And in this case, apparently ears as well.

“Ok, look-“ you started, hoping to ease your embarrassment, but all of the excuses you could come up with fell flat before they made it out of your mouth. Fortunately, the lift door slid open, allowing you to escape before you could further your embarrassment.

Crosshair actually chuckled out loud, long legs easily traipsing past you as he headed towards the Havoc Marauder. Momentarily, he twisted around to walk backwards, pointing his toothpick towards you, “Don’t worry, your ass is almost as good as mine.”

#crosshair x reader #crosshair x you #bad batch x reader #bad batch x you

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sameheart-sameblood · 3 years

Text

Live While We’re Alive

(gif by @rex-is-best)

pairing: commander wolffe x f!reader

summary: you thought being a newly recruited civilian doctor to the GAR was hard enough until you developed a hopeless crush on Commander Wolffe

words: 2.8 k

warnings: mature, some suggestive talk, mutual pining, medical exams, co-workers to lovers, a doctor having inappropriate thoughts about their patient

a/n: I started writing this awhile ago and then lost all creative motivation but I've been in a Wolffe mood the past few days and sad we didn't get to see him in The Bad Batch so here we are. I'd like to apologize to my doctor dad and all medical professionals everywhere lol. Also, I had intended for this to end in smut but then got lost in feelings so there mayyyy be a chapter 2. We'll see ;)

read on ao3!

You want to fuck him. It’s been decided. This realization couldn’t have come at a worse time, though. You’re surrounded by Jedi and Clone Officers in a very important meeting detailing your next mission. But you only have eyes for one of the men and he’s currently standing at the head of the room giving a briefing to the holo of Master Yoda. It’s a testament to Commander Wolffe’s presence that you barely notice the little green Jedi Master he’s conversing with. Well, his presence and his extreme handsomeness.

When you’d first met him, you’d been truly intimidated. The other women you worked with nodded in understanding, whispering they had been thrown off by his cybernetic eye and prominent scar. But that wasn’t it. You’d noticed those things, but that wasn’t what made you uneasy.

It was the fact that he took one look at you and seemed to see right into your soul. You couldn’t explain it but you felt like with just a glance, he could tell your deepest insecurities. And stars, did you have a lot of those.

You had worked your way up through the medical field and had started your residency at the biggest hospital in Coruscant. After your training ended, you had secured a permanent job there. It had been difficult, to say the least. Though you knew you were qualified, even more so than most of your male co-workers, you still doubted yourself often.

Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi had come to visit you one nondescript Thursday afternoon, telling you of the need for doctors in the GAR. He said you came most highly recommended when he was searching for recruits but still, you thought a mistake had been made and that someone soon would realize and send you back to your normal life. It was a recurring nightmare you’d developed in the past few weeks that shook you from your sleep.

You had agreed to join the GAR, sympathetic to the cause and wanting to do your part. The next few weeks had consisted of you getting your bearings and meeting the rest of the staff at the base . Kix, the clone medic in charge, had helped you learn the ropes and had introduced you to all his brothers. At first, you had been overwhelmed by the sea of identical faces. As the weeks had gone on, you’d learned everyone’s names and they’d made you feel welcome, like one of their own.

The Commander and you had crossed paths several times. He was polite but distant. Not like you blamed him. He had more important things to do than exchange drawn out pleasantries. With each run-in, though, he seemed to be making more of an effort to be personable. Unfortunately, each conversation left you looking more and more like an idiot. Or a di’kut. The boys had been teaching you some Mando’a.

You were a medical professional, a well-respected doctor and yet Wolffe made you feel unsure of yourself. It had been so long since you’d had a crush that you didn’t realize this was what the beginning of one felt like.

*******

As you sit around the war room table, you feel even more like a school girl. Instead of paying attention to whatever Master Yoda is saying, you’re transfixed by Wolffe’s face. The hazy blue light from the holo reflects off his features, making him look ethereal. His scar looks even more prominent and you blush, remembering how often you’ve wondered what it would feel like to let your fingers trace it. And his lips. They’re moving, responding to whatever the Jedi has said. They’re mesmerizing and now you’re thinking of what it would be like to kiss him. Or even better yet, to have those lips pressed against the plushier parts of your body.

You continue to stare until you realize his face has turned to you. It probably only takes you a second to come back to reality but it feels like an eternity. Somehow you’re able to respond to the question.

“Yes, Commander. All medical personnel are prepared for an 0800 liftoff. Kix will take his team with the 501st and I’ll have my staff along with the 104th. We’ll reconnoiter once we’ve landed on Hisseen.” The rest of the table nods, moving the conversation along. Wolffe stares at you for a moment, a hint of a smirk on his lips. You avert your gaze, finding the table a much safer object of your attention.

The discussion wraps up and Wolffe stands at attention, puffing his chest out, before Master Yoda disappears. Once again, your eyes are drawn to him. You’re not sure how but he makes something so mundane look indescribably attractive. Wolffe’s head turns in your direction but you’ve already bolted from your seat, hoping to cool down in the hallway.

Kix pushes through the crowd to get to you. “Hey, Doc. How’d the meeting go?” You shrug. “Nothing new to report. Just making sure we’re all set for our campaign.” He’s shifting back and forth, a sort of glazed look in his eyes. You realize he’s not paying particularly close attention. It’s the look of someone asking you something just so they can request a favor in return.

“Hmm oh yeah, that’s nice. Say, Doc, do you think you could cover for me for a few hours? I have some urgent business to attend to.”

“Since when is playing Sabacc with Fives and the boys urgent?”

“Since I remembered how terrible they are at it. I can make a real killing playing against them.”

You laugh. It’s true. You’ve come to love those men but a lot of them are really horrible at the game. You’ll need to give them a remedial course if you have any downtime on Hisseen. “Of course. What do you need me to do?” He rewards you with a huge grin. “Nothing hard! A few higher ups coming in for their physicals. Just the usual. Make sure they’re in tip top shape to get shot at by some tinnies.”

He gives you the list. It’s only a handful of men but the last one on it makes your blood go cold. “Commander Wolffe needs a physical?” Kix is oblivious to your inner turmoil. “Oh yeah, but he knows the drill. Honestly everyone can do it themselves at this point. We’re basically there to oversee it as a formality.”

You swallow down your apprehension and nod. “Sounds easy enough. Go have fun. And take it easy on them, will ya? Let them keep a little of their dignity intact” Kix just grins and shoots you a wave as he runs off.

*******

Your first few appointments go just fine. The officers are professionals and Kix was right, they could do these routine physicals with their eyes closed. You give them all your seal of approval and settle in to do your paperwork before your last, most anticipated patient arrives. The forms in front of you hold no interest and you find yourself checking the chrono every few seconds.

It’s not easy but you manage to finish your work. You set it aside and take steadying breath. Five more minutes and he’ll be here. You scold yourself. The Commander has never been anything but professional. You’re the one thinking these very unprofessional thoughts.

And you’re a doctor, for kriff’s sake. Your patients should be able to come to you without worrying you may be fantasizing about what they look like naked. But these are uncharted waters. It’s your first time having to deal with a patient you’re this attracted to. They really should take your medical license away.

Just as you’re thinking of packing it all up and handing in your resignation to the Jedi Council, a knock at the door snaps you to attention. Well, here goes nothing. You scold yourself once again for checking your reflection in the mirror before answering the door.

You had tried to adopt a passive, professional look to your face before greeting Wolffe but it must not have worked. “Everything alright, Doc? I’m not early, am I?” You shake your head.“Not at all. Punctual as always, Commander.” You beckon for him to come in and take a seat. You close the door, then sit across from him at your desk.

Your datapad hums to life and you busy yourself opening the appropriate forms you need to fill out. The weight of his eyes is heavy on you and your cheeks heat up in spite of yourself. You push on through as best you can.

“Well, Commander, how are you feeling today?” There’s that ghost of a smirk again but it vanishes so quickly you're not sure if you imagined it. “I feel like a million credits.” You giggle despite it not even being that funny. You’ve got it bad. “Glad to hear it. This should be quick then.” You gather your equipment and get to work.

First, you take his weight. Then, you listen to his heart. You press the stethoscope to his sternum, thankful you can do this over his blacks. He observes you the whole time. “And what about you? How are you today, Doc?” You risk a glance and meet his eyes. That was a mistake.

“Me? Oh-um just fine. Maybe not like a million credits but a few hundred at least.” You trail off dumbly but he humors you with a chuckle. You’re not sure you’ve ever heard that sound from him before. It’s like music to your ears. “Anything I can do to help? You do look a little flushed. Are you sure you don’t have a fever?” You avert your eyes again.

“No. I’m alright. It’s just, uh, hot in these uniforms. The coarseweave doesn’t breathe.”

“You sure? Maybe I should be the one giving you a check-up.”

You realize he’s toying with you now.

“That won’t be necessary, Commander.”

You move on to check his lungs. “Breathe in for me.” You move the stethoscope to his chest, then move it around a few different spots on his back. “You can call me, Wolffe. If you’d like.” He breathes in every time, not even needing prompting, ever the dutiful soldier, even when he’s teasing you.

“I would like that. Thank you, Wolffe.”

Next, you measure his blood pressure. You’re shocked that it’s so low. He sees the look of surprise on your face. “Something wrong?”

“Not at all. The opposite, in fact. Your pressures are great. I just thought with your lifestyle they might, understandably, be a bit higher.”

“What kind of lifestyle do you think I have?”

You’re backtracking as quickly as you can. “I just meant, your life as a soldier, it must be extremely stressful.”

There’s that smirk again. “It is. But you don’t get to be a Commander by not being able to handle the pressure.”

“Of course. But even so, if you’d like some stress relief techniques I can suggest some.” He hums as if really thinking it over. Thankfully there’s only one part of your exam left. Which is good because you’re not sure how much resolve you have remaining.

“Everything looks great. I’ll just do a head and neck exam and then I can send you on your way.”

You need to touch him for this part but you stop yourself, hands hovering but not quite meeting their destination. You feel like once you touch him, really feel his skin under your fingers, there may be no going back.

Wolffe sees your hesitation, then slowly reaches out to take your hands. You watch with wide eyes as he guides them to his neck. He looks up at you innocently enough but you can tell he’s laughing internally. You try to reign in control of the situation.

“Sorry, I just got distracted.” The Commander studies you but this time it’s in earnest. “Are you nervous? This’ll be your first time in an active war zone, right?” You had been anxious but not about that. But now that he mentions it, yeah, you honestly don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into.

“Yes, I’m not sure what to expect. I guess you could say I’m a little scared.” Wolffe gently holds your chin, directing you to look back at him. “I won’t lie. It’ll be overwhelming and frightening. Battles can seem never-ending. But I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.”

You’re staring into each other’s eyes and you don’t want to stop. But then he’s clearing his throat and gently removing his hand from your skin. You realize you’ve been resting your own hands on his shoulders this whole time. “Thank you, Wolffe. I do feel much better knowing you’ll be there.” You offer him a smile, hoping it conveys just how much you appreciate him looking out for you.

You begin your exam, gently kneading where his neck meets his shoulders, checking for any anomalies. Then you move to his throat. The throat you’ve so often been distracted by. It’s featured prominently in your daydreams. You move your hands along it, under his jawline. Having a man this powerful baring one of the most vulnerable parts of his body to you is intoxicating. Focus, di’kut.

Everything feels normal except for some knots you find resting right below the surface of his smooth skin. “Lymph nodes feel good. You’re a little tense, though. But I bet it’s from that bucket you have to wear most of the day.” He hums in thought. “True. But even so. Maybe you could give me some of those ideas for stress management?” He looks up at you with big eyes. There’s mischief in them but something else. Vulnerability?

You gulp audibly. “Of course. There are a few that work particularly well, um, like deep breathing techniques, going on walks, talking with friends, meditation, journaling, physical activity…” You’re rambling, fighting a losing game against your resolve. Wolffe thinks on it. “Physical activity seems like a good place to start.” His hands come up to gently cover yours that are still resting on his neck.

The sensation of his calloused fingers on your skin sends shivers down your body. You close your eyes, feeling the last of your self-control topple over. “Wolffe,” you whine “We shouldn’t…” He immediately drops his hands, worry etched on his face. “I’m so sorry. It’s just- I thought you wanted-.” He cuts himself off, snapping up to his feet and to attention. “Doctor, you should report me to General Plo Koon for immediate disciplinary action.”

Dank Farrik, you’ve just ruined everything.“Wolffe! No, I’m not reporting you to anyone. If anything you should report me for being so unprofessional.” His shoulders relax a bit but he still eyes you as if you’re a live grenade that might explode at any second. “What do you mean?” You sigh in frustration. This isn’t how you wanted to confess your feelings to him.

“I…want you, Wolffe. The second I realized that I should have asked to be re-assigned to a different battalion. Instead I thought I could push those feelings down and continue to do my job. Looks like that was a mistake.” You hang your head, avoiding his piercing gaze. He’s silent for just a moment but it feels like an eternity.

“So, you want me and I want you?” You nod your head, ashamed, as he continues. “Then what’s the problem, Doc?” Your eyes snap to his, not believing what you’re hearing.

“Isn’t it wrong of us?”

Wolffe sits down on the exam table again, genuinely thinking on it. “I don’t see why. We’re both consenting adults. We don’t work directly with each other- I report to General Koon, you report to General Kenobi- so there’s no real conflict of interest. The worst we’ll face is a little ribbing from the boys if they find out.”

You raise your head to look him in the eyes, needing to make sure he’s serious and that this isn’t some twisted joke. What you find staring back at you is hope and promise. He senses your trepidation and gently takes your hands in his. “I’m sorry if I came on strong. But the thing about this life is that there are no guarantees. Tomorrow isn’t promised and so I figured I’d rather go for something, someone, that I want and have my heart broken rather than regretting my inaction.”

Your eyes roam the scars on his face, evidence of just how true his words are. You’re heading into active battle tomorrow. One or both of you could be injured, or worse. You step towards him. He spreads his legs so you have room to get closer. You rest your forehead on his, breathing him in.

His hands come up to caress your sides. You take a shaky breath. He questions you softly. “Cyar’ika?” Ah, now that’s one of the new words you definitely remember. His vulnerability makes you ache and the decision to hand your heart over is an easy one. “You’re right, Wolffe. Might as well do some living while we can.”

*******

#commander wolffe x reader #commander wolffe x you #wolffe x reader #instead of becoming a doctor like my family wanted i decided to just write about being one who's slightly inappropriate instead #tcw fanfic #tcw #allie writes #my writing

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hardcasey · 2 years

Text

Home Front

Won’t Fade into the Background - Part 9

Pairing: Waxer x F!Reader

Summary: You invite Waxer to come home with you on the holidays so you can introduce him to your family.

Word Count: 4.9k

Ratings/Warnings: E, 18+ only!!!

Contains PiV sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up IRL folks), and some mild dirty talk

A/N: I was planning to release this before the holidays but the, uh, holidays got in the way. I ended up working my butt off to get this out before the holidays ended, and I'm just barely squeaking in there. Happy New Year folks!

I tried to keep the holiday and family somewhat generic since this is a reader insert, but I inevitably ended up drawing from my own experiences. I celebrate Christmas and have the traditional nuclear family (mom + dad) so this has that stuff too. If you're not into that for any reason than I'd skip this fic. Or if your just reading for the sex skip to the third part ;)

You smiled at Waxer as he stepped through the double doors of the 212th’s barracks, the rest of his brothers shouting their goodbyes at him.

“Bring him back in one piece,” Cody called to you from the doorway.

“Yes, sir.” You saluted at him, earning you one of Cody’s rare smiles.

Waxer readjusted the strap of his duffle bag when he reached you, bending down to place a kiss on your cheek in greeting before turning to give one last big wave to his brothers.

“The taxi I ordered should be here in a minute,” you told him, smacking away his hand as he tried to take your suitcase for you. He settled for taking your hand in his own while you waited for your ride to the spaceport.

You were bringing Waxer home to meet your family and celebrate with them for the holidays. It had been a Herculean effort to coordinate everything so Waxer could get the days off. Between swapping shifts with his brothers and a little help from Cody and Obi-Wan he’d managed to get a full five days off, and you were determined to make the most of it.

You were so excited for him to see your home planet, to show him your favorite spots and to have him there with the rest of your family as you celebrated. But you were also nervous. So incredibly nervous. This was the first time you had brought a partner home to meet your family, ever, and you couldn’t help but stress about all the ways something could go wrong. You were close with your family and wanted more than anything for them to like him.

Waxer had been feeling similar trepidation for the trip. He wanted to make a good impression on your family and had been stressing out about how to do so for weeks. His brothers hadn’t been able to offer much advice either, none of them had ever been in a relationship long enough to get to the ‘meeting the parents’ stage. The best you could do to soothe him was to remind him that he’d already met your parents once before over holocall and things had gone great.

That didn’t prevent the weeks leading up to the trip from being stressful, though. Even with your assurances, he was still worried about every little detail. After a bit of prodding, you’d realized that his real worry was deeper than just fretting over what clothes to wear or how best to answer certain questions. No, he was worried that he wouldn’t fit in because he was a clone. His concern about wearing his blacks in front of them wasn’t about him looking presentable but about how they would draw attention to his military service. And his fretting over what to you were just normal icebreaker questions - ‘What do you do for work?’, ‘Do you have any siblings?’ - was because he didn’t have a typical job or family to speak of.

It broke your heart when it all finally clicked into place and you were ready to cancel the whole trip at that point. As much as you wanted him to meet your family, you didn’t want to put him in a position where he felt uncomfortable and out-of-place. You’d much rather spend vacation with him relaxing and doing something fun - Maker knows he deserved a break.

He’d assured you that he would be okay and admitted he knew he was overthinking a lot of things. After a long discussion, you’d decided to go ahead with the trip after all, though you made sure to buy him some new clothes so he wouldn’t have to wear his blacks if he didn’t want to and also called ahead and filled your mom in on the situation. With her assurance that she’d make sure to steer the discussion away from any possibly uncomfortable questions should they come up, the both of you were feeling a lot better about everything.

With most of the stress behind you, the two of you could enjoy the taxi ride to the spaceport in peace. You felt like you’d barely seen him in the last two weeks, what with all the extra shifts he was picking up, so it was nice to just sit there and catch up, his arm wrapped around you and your head resting against his chest.

~~~

Luckily, your years of experience travelling home for the holidays, learning to avoid what times were busiest paid off. Though the spaceport was still bustling with activity, you managed to avoid getting stuck in any long security lines or having to deal with gaggles of screaming children accompanied by exhausted parents. Even more fortunately, the flight you’d chosen wasn’t completely booked, which meant you and Waxer ended up with an open seat in your row, allowing you both to stretch out and enjoy the long flight.

Your good luck ran out though when the pilot came on the intercom and announced that the landing would be delayed due to inclement weather. Apparently there was a huge snowstorm that nobody had expected to get this bad that was preventing any ships from landing on that part of the planet. Out of the window you could see as the group of spacecraft waiting in orbit for the weather to clear got larger and larger as the time ticked on. Originally, the pilots predicted the delay would only last around an hour, but one hour turned into two hours and then three hours.

Originally the plan had been to get to your parent’s house before everyone else so you could introduce Waxer to your parents in a relaxed environment, but as time ticked on that was no longer a possibility. You texted your parents with updates on the flight's status and they started sending back pictures of everyone as guests started arriving. You filled the time by going through the pictures with Waxer, giving him the rundown on each family member. Who didn’t like who, what drama X aunt or uncle had caused last year, which cousins you liked the best. You also started filling him in on all the little holiday traditions your family had.

Finally, after four and a half hours of waiting, the landing pad was cleared of enough snow and ice for the ship to safely land. The two of you raced through crowds of cranky passengers to get your luggage before hopping in a taxi. You were stressed the the whole ride to your parent’s house, anxiously bouncing your leg and chewing on your lip. You didn’t like it when your plans went awry and now everything felt like a big mess.

“Relax, cyare,” Waxer said gently, freeing your lip from between your teeth. “Everything’ll be fine.” Apparently he’d gotten all his stress out before the trip. Or he was better at hiding it than you were.

“I know, I know. I just- we had everything planned out perfectly and now it feels like it’s gone to shit,” you sighed.

He tugged you closer to him and started rubbing circles on your back. “It’s not ideal, but we’ll still have a fun time.” You knew he was right but it didn’t stop you from worrying the whole way there, and by the time the taxi was pulling up the driveway you felt nervous and sweaty.

Neither of you had made it three steps from the taxi before the front door swung open to reveal your mother and father, framed by a whole gaggle of eager looking family members.

“Oh, Maker help us,” you sighed under your breath as they all descended the stairs, not even waiting for you to get in the door before they were swarming around the two of you.

The next ten minutes were a blur of hugs and handshakes as you greeted your family and introduced them to Waxer. You were bombarded with questions from every direction, some asking about the flight, some asking about your work, though most of them quickly veered towards what everyone wanted to talk about: the boyfriend. Waxer, for his part, handled it all like a champ, though you could tell he was getting shy by the end of it, not used to all this attention on him.

Your mom wrapped you in a hug when you finally made it down the line to her. “Sorry about that, kiddo. I asked them not to all mob you when you got here, but you know them.” she told you in a low voice.

“I suggested we just tie them down to the chairs, but somebody didn’t like that idea,” your dad joked, giving a pointed look to your mom before pulling you into another hug. You rolled your eyes at his dumb joke but laughed anyway.

When you stepped away you cleared your throat, “Mom, Dad, this is Waxer. Waxer, Mom and Dad.” The beat that followed felt like it lasted half of an eternity, though probably only lasted a fraction of a second in actuality.

Your dad was the first to respond. “Nice to finally meet you face to face, Waxer,” he said, holding out his hand. The two of them exchanged a firm handshake, something the two of you had practiced a few times on the advice of his brothers. Personally, you felt that it was something people only cared about in movies and your dad was not the type of guy to care about such things, but preparing for every possible scenario was one of Waxer’s ways of dealing with stress, so you’d been a good sport and spent hours trying out different handshakes with him.

Waxer reached out his hand to your mom as well, but she batted it away. “Pssh, no need to be formal, dear”, she said before pulling into a hug instead. “We’re practically family now, anyway. And if you play your cards right, soon that’ll be official, too,” she released him with a cheeky wink in your direction.

“Mom!”

“Oh, I’m just teasing you, kiddo,” she reassured you with a laugh, though it did little to soften the glower you shot her way. “After all, It’s what we parents live to do.”

“Embarass their daughters in front of their boyfriends,” your dad added with a chuckle.

You looked to Waxer for some support against this onslaught of your parent’s bad jokes only to find him chuckling along with them. Traitor.

He shrugged at you, “Hey, I’m just happy it’s not happening to me for once. My brothers embarrass me in front of her all the time.”

Arms crossed over your chest, you pouted as they giggled amongst themselves. Though you couldn’t find it in you to be all that mad. At least they were all getting along.

As the two of you turned to go down the hallway your dad called out to Waxer, “Ooh, remind me to show you all of her baby albums later.”

“Will do, sir,” Waxer replied with a laugh as you tugged him along quicker, ready for this torment to end.

The door to your childhood room shut behind you and the two of you let out a sigh of relief. After being bombarded by that many people at once, it was nice to be alone, if even for a moment.

“I think that went well,” you told Waxer, running your hands up his shoulders before wrapping your arms around his neck. “That looked like a very firm handshake, by the way.”

He laughed at that, and his hands found your waist and pulled you closer. “All that practice really paid off,” he said, holding up his hand and making a show of flexing it.

You laughed and captured his hand in yours, turning your head to press a kiss to his palm. “I’m sorry that my family mobbed you. And that my grandma pinched your cheeks a hundred times. And for my parents’ terrible jokes.”

“I’m not! I think it went great. Much better than when I introduced you to my brothers.”

You had to agree with him there. You’d first met the rest of the 212th out at 79’s. It had been a similar experience, his brothers all immediately surrounding you and bombarding you with questions. There hadn’t been so many pinched cheeks as punched shoulders, but there had been a whole mess of terrible jokes. And instead of meeting the parents you’d met Cody.

The one thing working in your family’s favor was that there was significantly less alcohol involved tonight as there was that night.

“Who’s room is this?” Waxer asked, pulling away to move the suitcases out of the doorway and getting his first good look around.

“Mine.”

Your parents had kept it virtually unchanged since the day you’d moved out. Someone else might have been embarrassed by the stuffed animals still on your bed or the toys and knick knacks strewn about, but not you. Your current room had pretty much the same, only with a slightly more sophisticated and grown up flair. Waxer had never had a problem with it. You’d even woken up to him cuddling with one of your stuffed animals once, though he refused to admit it. One of your biggest regrets was not capturing video evidence of it, though as you looked at the frilly pink sheets still on your bed, you realized you might be able to remedy that.

As the two of you hurried to change out of your travel clothes and into something more fresh, it became apparent Waxer was having some similarly devilish thoughts. You pulled your shirt over your head and when you opened your eyes up again, you caught Waxer’s eyes raking down the length of your now bare torso. He gave you a cheeky smile when he realized he’d been caught, before pulling off his own shirt. You made a show of checking him out before meeting his eyes again and wiggling your eyebrows. He laughed and stepped closer, unable to help himself from giving you a quick peck on the lips. Only you weren’t interested in a quick peck, your hand coming up behind his neck to hold him close to you and deepen the kiss.

“You’re a menace,” Waxer said breathlessly when he finally broke away, backing up just far enough so he could rest his forehead against yours.

“You started it,” you shot back as you started to trail little kisses along his neck.

Waxer caught your hand as it started to trail down his abdomen. “I know what you’re doing and it’s not gonna work.”

“And what’s that?”

“Trying to distract me so we don’t have to go back out there.”

You groaned and buried your face against his neck. “We haven’t even been here for an hour and I’m already exhausted. Can’t we just stay in here?”

“As much as I’d like to… no. Now c’mon.” Waxer pulled you off of him and snatched your shirt out of your suitcase. “Arms up.”

You complied, though you made sure he saw you pouting first. “I can’t believe you’re putting clothes on me right now.”

Waxer laughed again, though it did nothing to stop him from tugging your shirt into place. Once you were fully dressed (ugh) he turned to put his own shirt on, a warm cable knit sweater that made you want to snuggle up against him. That would have to be your consolation prize for now.

“Cheer up, babe,” Waxer smiled at you when he saw you were still sulking. “Besides, aren’t you excited to look through all your baby pictures with me?” he asked with a smirk.

You groaned. You’d been hoping he’d forgotten about that but it seemed luck just wasn’t on your side tonight. Waxer just chuckled as he led you out the door with a hand on the small of your back.

Voices carried down the hallway as you walked back to join the others. As you got closer, you started to take a deep breath to steel yourself again when Waxer leaned down to whisper in your ear, “And if that doesn’t excite you, just think of how hard I’m gonna fuck you after all this. In your childhood bed no less.”

Your breath caught in your throat and you nearly tripped at his dirty words, but Waxer just winked at you. Before you could come up with a witty response, he was pulling you into the family room where a chorus of people greeted you.

~~~

Dinner went off without a hitch, even if there was barely any elbow room at the table your whole family had squeezed around. There had been one tense moment where one of your uncles had brought up the war as one of the topics of discussion. The two of you braced for something to happen, but as it turned out there was nothing to worry about. Your mom was true to her word and one glare from her was all it took for him to move on to another topic.

Waxer eagerly participated in the discussion, telling stories and joking around with the rest of your family. You couldn’t help but smile from your place at his side. He was a natural and was managing to charm the pants off of everyone, not that you doubted him for a second.

At the end of the meal, you and a few others started clearing away the plates. While you helped your brother load the dishwasher, your grandma came in to start getting dessert ready. And she started dropping some not so subtle hints she thought you and Waxer should tie the knot, saying things like ‘Oh, wouldn’t it be great if there was another wedding in the family?’ or ‘I bet Waxer would look great in a tuxedo,’ while nudging your side. Unlike your mother, though, you knew she was serious.

You weren’t sure how to handle all the questions and settled on giving her the standard non-committal answers. The whole time your brother was barely holding in his laughter at your expense and as the two of you slipped back into the dining room he elbowed you and joked, “Pretty sure Grandma already has your whole wedding planned out by now.”

You groaned. “I feel like the next time I turn around she’ll already have sent out the invitations.”

“Hey, we could save a lot of money on airfare if you just have the wedding right now with everyone here. I’m ordained and everything- ow!” He yelped as you flicked him in the ear and you snickered to yourself as you rejoined Waxer.

“Something funny?” He asked, his arm snaking around your waist to pull you closer to him.

You leaned your head on his shoulder, the fabric of his sweater soft against your cheek. “I’ll tell you later. Let’s just say that Grandma has the wedding bell blues.”

Waxer’s eyes widened for a moment before his face twisted into a smile. “I knew I liked her.”

Now it was your turn to be surprised and you felt your face get hot as the implication of his words hit you. “Quiet you, or I’ll flick your ear too,” you huffed at him, trying to hide your smile and failing miserably.

“Hey, Waxer!” your dad called from his place amidst a group of almost all of your male relatives. “Me and the boys were just getting our coats on to go outside and get the bonfire ready. Come join us!”

It was a tradition at this point that, each year, as dessert was being prepared, the menfolk of the family would go out to find firewood and set up a big bonfire that everyone would gather around, drinking cocoa and exchanging presents. It wasn’t actually limited to male family members, any of them were welcome to come with, but all of the women in your family much preferred staying inside where it was warm and gossiping with each other instead. You used to join them you were little, along with some of your female cousins, and had quickly learned that what they pretended was a grand old manly affair was a way for them to flex on each other about their fire-building skills and an excuse for them to get their farts out after the big meal. Either way, it meant a lot to them and any invite to a boyfriend/husband was seen as a sign of approval and acceptance into the family. It was one of the traditions you’d told Waxer all about on the way here, though you told him you weren’t sure if it would happen on a first meeting since all of the other invitees had been introduced to the family long before being asked to join.

Waxer turned and beamed at you before rushing off to go join them. You moved over to the couch where a group of ladies were gathered and spent the time gossiping and telling each other stories over glasses of wine.

Dessert was being set out just as the guys came back. Waxer plopped right down beside you and immediately buried his face against you. You could feel the cold of his skin through your shirt.

“Your face feels like ice, babe.” You wrapped an arm around his shoulders and tried to rub some heat back into him. “Did you have fun?”

“Yes! The fire is j-just getting started right now, but give it ten m-minutes and it’ll be awesome. You have to come check it out with me. Just not until I can feel my t-toes again.” Waxer’s teeth were still chattering from the cold.

You wrapped a blanket around him and went to get some cocoa for both of you and a plate of sweets to share. Waxer pulled you under the blanket when you returned and the two of you snuggled together as you enjoyed the food with everyone.

Eventually, the group started to make their way outside to where a large fire was now raging. You stood facing the fire and Waxer wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. The two of you stood like that, swaying slightly as you enjoyed the company.

When the time to exchange gifts came, your parents walked up to the two of you and your mom held out a gift bag to Waxer. “Here’s a little something from us, to welcome you to the family.”

Waxer blinked and looked at you for a second before taking the gift. “I- Thank you. You didn’t have to do this.”

“Oh of course we did. Now go on, open it!” she urged him with a wave of the hands.

Waxer dug through the tissue paper and pulled out a box, his eyes quickly reading over the letters on the front. “Babe! It’s a deluxe shaving kit. Ooh, and it even has something meant for shaving your head!”

He held it out for you to see and you pretended to look at everything, as if you hadn’t been the one to find the link for it online to send to your mother. But he didn’t have to know that. He was so excited he practically had stars in his eyes.

Waxer turned back to your parents. “Thank you so much for this! I love it. I think I might use it tomorrow, actually.”

“I can’t wait to hear if it’s good. When I saw her wrapping that earlier, I wanted to try it myself,” your dad chimed in.

The two of them started talking and you couldn’t help but smile when you saw the way the two of them were bro-ing out together, trading shoulder punches as they joked around.

You turned to find your mom smiling at you. “Okay, I love him. The whole family loves him. Your aunt wants to know if any of his brothers are single so she can set them up with your cousins.”

“I think Grandma is already planning the wedding,” you confessed with a laugh, your mom joining in.

“Oh, Maker, that woman is out of control,” your mom said once the two of you caught your breath, wiping a tear from her eye.

As you continued talking to your mom you felt Waxer’s hand squeeze yours. You squeezed his back. He squeezed back again. It was a game you two sometimes played, a way to say ‘I love you’ without words.

You squeezed his hand in yours with all your might.

~~~

You woke up groggily, groping around unfamiliar surroundings until your eyes finally cracked open. It took a few seconds to realize that you were in your old bedroom, that you and Waxer had crawled to bed after staying up all night drinking with everyone.

Speaking of, you turned to the other side of the bed to find it empty. Just as you were about to get up to go look for him, the door cracked and Waxer walked in with two steaming hot mugs in his hands.

“Morning, sunshine. Did you just wake up?” He questioned as he set down the mugs on the nightstand.

“How’d you know?” you asked, rubbing at your eyes and yawning.

“Lucky guess,” he told you, pressing a kiss to your forehead before going around the bed and slipping back under the covers behind you.

“Why are you up?” you mumbled as he rolled you onto your side, pulling you close so your back was flush with his front.

“Your dad knocked on the door to tell us they were going out to a holiday market and asked if we wanted them to bring us back breakfast. And then since I was up I went and used my new shaving kit and then made us some caf,” Waxer filled you in, pressing kisses along your neck.

“Oooh!” You reached your hand up behind you so you could feel his head. “Wow, so smooth. You like it?”

“I love it!”

You hummed as you lazily trailed your fingertips along his scalp. “I have one more question.”

“Hmmm?” he murmured, his lips still pressed against your skin.

“Why are you wearing pants?” You distinctly remembered the two of you barely managing to pull your clothes off before collapsing into bed, too exhausted to pull any pajamas on.

“I couldn’t go talk to your dad in my underwear! I had to throw these on before I opened the door.”

“I mean, why are you still wearing them?” You pressed your ass back against him, rubbing up against his half-hard length. He groaned against your neck and tightened his grip on you. “Didn’t you promise me you’d fuck me last night?” you goaded, rocking your hips in time with his, his clothed cock pressing hard against you.

“I certainly did,” he breathed in your ear, his hand sliding down along your hip, catching your underwear with two fingers and pulling them down as his palm smoothed across your thigh. You kicked them off the rest of the way as he shed his own pants and underwear. He brought his hand back up under your knee, lifting it slightly so that his cock settled between your legs when he pulled you back against him once more.

He started rocking his hips again, gliding his length back and forth between your folds slowly as he resumed peppering your neck with kisses, only this time they were hungrier, more desperate. This time it was your turn to moan as his other hand snaked under your waist, his fingers finding your clit and started rubbing slow circles as he continued to thrust against you.

Soon his shaft was drenched in your wetness, and Waxer drew back one more tip before his tip pressed into your entrance, entering you slowly. He continued to work you as his cock filled you bit by bit, the slight stretch making you huff out a sigh. When he was firmly seated inside you, you turned your head enough so your lips could find his, drawing him into a sloppy kiss as he started thrusting into you.

“I though you said you would fuck me, babe,” you panted. Slow morning sex could be nice but right now you wanted more.

“As you wish,” he said against your lips, biting at the lower one before suddenly shifting. He kneeled on either side of your leg and tossed the other one over his shoulder, bending it back towards you as he leaned forward and pressed into you even deeper. Your eyes rolled back in your head and you let out a loud groan as he hit that place only he ever seemed to reach. He started to pound into you, and you thanked the Maker nobody else was home as the headboard hit the wall over and over again.

“Fuck, mesh’la,” Waxer gasped, his hand groping up your body to grasp at one of your breasts as the bounced in time with his thrusts.

It didn’t take long before you reached your peak, your walls clenching around him as you wailed, turning your head into a pillow to muffle it somewhat. Your orgasm triggered his, and he thrusted into you a half dozen more times before you felt his hot seed fill you.

Waxer sagged against you and you gathered his head in your chest, rubbing at his neck as you both caught your breath. At the sound of your giggling he looked up.

“What are you laughing about?” he said with a crooked grin.

“I can’t believe we did that in front of all my stuffed animals! How scandalous.”

#waxer x reader #waxer #clone trooper waxer #clone trooper waxer x reader #clone wars fanfic #star wars fanfic #18+

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themayforce · 3 years

Text

Pretty in Pink - Part 2

Link to part 1

Summary: After the events down on the planet, you're not sure how to talk to Rex about it. But luckily, Fives and Echo are here to help.

Description: Things get steamy again in this one. Afab!Reader (no gendered language), foursome, double (or i guess triple) penetration (in both holes), unprotected sex (wrap it up fellas), some degradation, and a little bit of spanking

Rating: 18+ explicit

Pairings: Rex+Fives+Echo/Reader

Words: 7481 (literally i only just found out about this word count and uhhhh i don't know how this happened)

There aren’t enough hours in a day for all the work you have to get done. Since getting back to Coruscant, it's like you've been stuck in an endless meeting with every possible senator, advisor, administrator, or whatever title these politicians had chosen to use. The first few meetings had been important, but soon you had no real part in the discussions anymore and you just watched from the back of the room, exhausted.

It doesn't help that events from a certain planet keep replaying in your mind like a holovid stuck on a loop, glitching and catching on moments and phrases you should not be thinking about in the middle of a meeting room. The heat in your face and your anxiety about it make you even more tired, and after a week of these negotiations you're very glad when you can finally get home before dark for once.

The lights in your apartment automatically switch on when you open the door. The soft pink and orange hues from the sunset outside drape over your living room like a blanket and you spend a few minutes just looking out the window, admiring the view over the city, something you didn’t take as much time for as you should.

No matter how hard you try, it’s impossible to empty your mind these days. Your little … adventure with your three clone friends left its marks on you, both emotionally and physically. They’re fading now, but every time you see yourself in the mirror before showering they jump out at you: two rows of bruises on either side of your hips, unmistakably finger shaped. Rex’s handiwork. And the worst part is that it turns you on more than you’d ever care to admit.

You haven’t spoken to Rex at all since flying back on the shuttle. He had been in two of the same meetings as you, sure, but only awkward glances were exchanged, no words. It bothers you, having these feelings fester inside you, but you have no idea how to approach the subject. If you send him a comlink message, what are you even supposed to say? ‘Hey Captain, I think we should discuss how you fucked my kriffing brains out and then pretended it never happened?’

The day after you got back, Fives and Echo had been waiting for you after your checkup in the medbay, bless their hearts. You had all agreed to leave out the specifics of what had happened in your official reports, but a warning had been attached to that planet’s datalog. Avoid the pink flowers: toxic to most humanoids. With those two guys, you can laugh about it now, and you’re grateful for it. Fives seems more relaxed around you, more open. You haven’t forgotten that he called you beautiful, that he held your hand and brushed the hair out of your face. You see the way he looks at you, and it melts you, the way a hot cup of caf on a cold day does. But you just can’t seem to examine your feelings about Fives, not while Rex’s fire burns inside you so vigorously.

If you don’t talk to him soon, you probably never will, and you’re not sure you can take that. You get a glass of water from the kitchen and down it in one go before laying down on your couch, comlink in hand.

Should you call him? Leave him a holo message? Or just a text message? He’s probably very busy, probably doesn’t even have time to meet with you, but there’s no way you can talk it out over the com. The little device feels heavy in your hand as you type out the message ‘Can we talk?’, and your thumb hovers over the send button. What if he says no? Or just doesn’t reply? What if he’s trying to forget what happened, and bringing it up will just anger him? But he’d called you perfect, had fucked you like a man possessed. You look like such a good little whore. Those words won’t stop echoing in your mind.

You press your face into a throw pillow and groan. “Stupid clones,” you mutter to yourself. “Stupid, sexy clones.”

It’s only when the buzzer to your front door wakes you up that you notice you had dozed off in the first place. Quickly, you smooth out your clothes and flip the throw pillow over with the drool-stained side down. You're not expecting any guests -- you were too tired to make plans this week -- so you're frowning when you open the door.

Your frown turns into a surprised smile when you see Fives and Echo standing in front of you. Their helmets are tucked under their arm, and Fives is holding a bottle of something that looks like alcohol, while Echo has a plain white box in his hands.

"Hey there, sunshine," Fives says with a sheepish grin that nestles itself in your heart.

"Guys! What's all this?"

“Hope this isn’t a bad time,” Fives starts, but Echo interrupts him.

“Fives wanted to-” A sharp look from his friend makes him rephrase his sentence. “Fives and I wanted to check up on you.”

“We saw you in one of the meeting rooms today, and you looked tired, so- oh, not that you look bad, you still look great, just-” You laugh, and that puts Fives at ease. He smiles back at you.

“You’re really too sweet. Please, come in.”

You step aside to let your friends into your home, both of them still wearing their armor. They must have come here right after their shift, and it warms your heart that they chose to see you instead of getting their well-earned rest.

“Brought you something,” Fives says, handing you the bottle he’s holding. “Thought you might like a drink.” It‘s a familiar bottle to you, the most common type of Corellian Red on the market, and one of your favorites, which Fives remembered.

“Aw, you shouldn’t have. But you’re absolutely right. I could really use a drink.”

Echo’s white box happens to be the best kind of box: a cake box, and time flies by while the three of you eat cake and empty the wine bottle. It’s nice, really nice, to just hang out like this. Despite the unspoken truth between you and Fives, it doesn’t feel awkward -- instead it draws something giddy and flirtatious out of you, though that may be in part due to the wine. One third of a bottle isn’t enough to get you drunk, but it’s definitely enough to get you tipsy, and soon enough you have your legs in Fives’ lap on the couch. He rubs circles on your calves with his thumb. He blushes. Echo laughs. The whole thing is adorable.

For the second time tonight, the buzzer of the front door interrupts you. This time, aided by the buzz of alcohol, you’re a lot more relaxed as you make your way across the room, glass in hand. There’s music playing from a concert on your holoscreen -- you don’t know the song or the singer, but the rhythm puts a spring in your step and there’s a smile on your face when you open the door.

Your expression shifts to one of open-mouthed confusion when you are met with another set of blue and white plastoid armor, worn by the man you so desperately wanted to talk to earlier today. And that's not all -- clutched in Rex's hands is a beautiful bouquet of yellow and white flowers, perfectly arranged like it's come straight out of a holo-ad for one of those high-end florists from Naboo.

You're speechless. Absolutely floored. Not just by the fact that Captain Rex brought you flowers, but that he decided to do this now, tonight, after ignoring you for over a week and- oh no. Did you accidentally send that comlink message? Is that why he's here? You would never even have considered sending it if you knew you'd have company tonight, but Rex doesn't know that and now he's here and so are Fives and Echo and every possible explanation you can give will bring trouble.

Blood rushes to your head as you try to think of something to say, but Fives and Echo beat you to it.

"Captain!" they exclaim in almost perfect unison while they jump up from their seats.

"Captain…" you repeat, at a loss for any other words. "I- I wasn't expecting-" You can't finish your sentence. Rex looks like he's going through all stages of grief simultaneously -- jaw tightening, brows furrowing, while his gaze darts between you and the clones behind you.

"I'll come back another time."

“No!” you say before you can stop yourself, “I mean, you’re welcome to come have a drink?” It’s embarrassing, the sheepish way you’re smiling at him, but he did just bring you flowers.

“Are those for me?” you ask, gesturing at the bouquet. Rex looks at the flowers like he had temporarily forgotten he was holding them, then hands them over to you.

“Yes. I hope you uh,” he hesitates, “are feeling better.”

“I am, thank you.”

This is unbearable. You want to scream, to either pull him inside or slam the door in his face, anything to make this painful situation end. You can feel Fives’ eyes burn into you from behind you, knowing that you have to explain why his kriffing Captain is bringing you flowers, when you can’t even explain it to yourself.

“So do you w-” you begin to invite Rex inside, pointing your thumb towards the living room, but he starts speaking at the same time.

“I’ll talk to you later. Goodnight. Troopers.”

With a curt nod and a sharp turn, he marches down the walkway, away from you.

You rush over to the low table next to your couch where you left your comlink and after you lay the bouquet down you check your message history. The words ‘Can we talk’ are still blinking up at you from the bottom of the display, unsent. The whole thing was a kriffing coincidence.

“So,” Echo says, pressing a button on the holoscreen to mute it, “what just happened?”

You groan as you let yourself drop down on the couch. Fives sits back down next to you, but his posture isn’t as relaxed as it was a few minutes ago.

“I don’t know if I should talk about it,” you say softly, burying your face in your hands.

"He …" Fives sighs deeply and turns his body towards you. "He also got involved back on that planet, didn't he?"

You nod without looking up. No point in lying about it now, and besides, it was Rex who decided to be weird about the whole thing.

"Said so, didn't I?" Echo says.

"Kriff, yeah, you were right. I really must've slept through it."

Now you sit up, bouncing your gaze between the two of them. “You knew?” you ask, confused.

“Not for sure,” Echo replies, “I stepped away for half an hour or so to fix the transmitter. But something was different about the Captain when I got back.”

Yeah, you could say that. It would’ve been a lot easier if he hadn’t been so secretive about the whole thing.

"I wanted to talk to him about it, but I thought he was avoiding me… Well, until-"

"Until he showed up unannounced at your apartment with flowers," Fives interrupts. There’s a small grin on his face as he shakes his head. "Stars, he's hopeless. We should give him some pointers."

Pointers? He wants Rex to be, what? Better at courting you?

“Wait… I thought-”

“I’d be jealous? Eh, a little, I can’t deny that. But one thing you need to know about clones,” Fives says with a knowing look to Echo, “is that we’re very good at sharing.”

His words make your face burn, your cheeks feel like the twin suns of Tatooine with how hot they are, and your breath hitches in your throat.

Echo chuckles at your reaction and moves to sit down on the couch as well. Stars, why was it making you so flustered to be sandwiched between the two of them?

“Fives was right. You really are cute when you get nervous.”

“I’m always right,” Fives jokes in return, “but more importantly…” He leans over and gently presses his thumb and index finger against your chin, turning your head to look at him. “Would you like that, sunshine? The three of us sharing you?” His thumb now grazes over your bottom lip. If he keeps this up, you might forget how to speak. Or forget your own kriffing name.

“Y-yes,” you whisper.

“Good.” He holds your gaze lovingly, his eyes darting down to your bottom lip. You’re hoping he might kiss you, but then he takes his hand away and smiles slightly.

“Better ask the Captain to come back, then.”

You fumble with your comlink and almost drop it while you type your new message to Rex. ‘Please come back. We want to talk to you.’ That’s the line you all agreed upon.

“While we wait…” Echo leans closer to you and lowers his voice. “Fives here never shuts up about wanting to kiss you.”

“Echo!” Fives hisses, embarrassed.

“Sooo,” you say, turning to him with a bashful grin, “what are you waiting for, then?”

Fives blinks a few times, and then with one swooping motion he pulls you into his lap, and puts his mouth to yours. His lips are sweet from the cake and the wine, his hands warm as he holds onto your waist. He’s firm and soft at the same time and it’s perfect -- until you move slightly and part of his armor pinches your skin, making you wince.

“Okay, you better take this off now,” you say, tapping one of his thigh plates with your fingernail, “or someone’s gonna get hurt.”

“That a promise?” Fives mutters against your cheek, making you giggle.

It’s touching how much care they put in taking off their armor. Just by watching them undress you can tell how important it is to them, almost sacred. They put every piece neatly on top of the other in the same way, like they were taught precisely how. Soon they stand before you in their tight black underclothes, still completely covered, but softer to the touch. The stretchy fabric doesn’t hide much. In fact, it accentuates the shape of their muscles and, well, other parts. You chew on your lip while you watch them move closer to you.

“Your turn, sunshine,” Fives states. “Let’s give the Captain a little surprise when we open the door for him.”

A small whine escapes your lips when you process his words, but you gladly oblige. As soon as you stand up from the couch, they’re on either side of you, so close it’s almost dizzying. They help you undo the clasps on your outfit and soon enough, you’re left only in your underclothes. Nothing fancy -- it was supposed to just be a regular work day when you got dressed this morning -- but at least it was a matching pair. Fives can’t seem to help himself and nuzzles his face into your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses that send shivers down your spine and he makes his way back up past your jaw, until he captures your mouth again. His second kiss is more intense, deeper, hotter, and as his tongue moves against yours, you feel the wetness between your thighs increasing. While Fives kisses you, Echo runs his fingers down your breastbone softly, before brushing them over your nipples through the thin fabric of your bra. He’s gentle, like he doesn’t want to distract you from Fives’ kiss, but it still makes you shiver, the hairs on your arms standing up with the thrill of it.

And then, the buzzer again. When Echo goes to open the door, you instinctively want to turn around, too shy to face Rex in your state of undress, but Fives holds you with your back to his chest and his hands on your shoulders, rubbing them softly. He presses a kiss to your temple.

When the door swings open, your eyes meet Rex’s almost instantly.

"What's going on?" Rex asks, but his voice isn't demanding. Quite the opposite, there's almost a quiver in it as his gaze moves over your body, then quickly away again.

Echo leads him into the room by the back of his arm and smirks.

"Well, Captain, Fives and I have a little … gift for you, if you want to join us."

"We know you got involved, sir. With the toxin situation. No need to be ashamed. In fact, I think we can all benefit from this situation." Fives’ mouth comes up right next to your ear and you can feel the tickle of his goatee. "Why don't you tell him what you told us?" Fives whispers to you. Kriff, he wants you to proposition Rex? Out loud?

"I-I… well…" Alright, breathe, you can do this. You know what you want.

"I want… I want all three of you."

Rex’s eyes seem to darken, his posture heavy when he walks over to you. Fives lets go of you now, taking a step back to give the two of you more space.

"Stars," Rex breathes, "y-you're sure?"

"I'm sure." To help ease his doubts, you trace a path up his armor with your hands, resting your arms around his neck, and kiss him. He seems frozen for a second against your lips, but then he returns your kiss eagerly, warm hands grazing over your hips. When he touches you, his breath hitches, remembering you are near-naked in front of him. He breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against yours.

“I felt- I thought I had taken advantage of you. You were so vulnerable, and I was- I couldn’t control myself, I was too rough-”

"Look," you say softly, turning around to show him the remnants of your bruises.

"Is that- did I do that? Kriff, I didn't intend to-"

You interrupt him. "You can do it again, if you want. Keep doing it, so they never fade.”

Rex swallows, but before he can reply you come up with a new idea.

"I want to thank the three of you for saving my life," you say, and you can't help the shy smile that graces your face as you unclasp your bra, shaking it off and revealing your breasts. You take Fives and Rex by the hand and look Echo in the eye sweetly as you lead the three of them to your bedroom.

"There's no need-" Fives interrupts, but you shush him with a finger to his lips.

"I'm going to thank you," you say more firmly this time. You press a quick kiss to his lips before sinking to your knees before him, your eyes lining up with the visible hard-on under his clothes. Your fingers find the waistband of his black compression pants and his briefs below them.

"Oh, stars, sunshine-" His words catch in his throat when you peel the fabric down, revealing his bare cock to you, exactly the way you remembered it. Fuck, you'd fantasized about this late at night, pushing your own fingers into your mouth, imagining how much their cocks might fill you. You can't help but lick your lips before gently wrapping your hand around the base, drawing soft curses from Fives' lips. Your tongue finds the head of his cock, giving it a few kitten licks before letting your lips wrap around it. You hum contentedly as you let him enter further into your mouth, gently licking and sucking and reeling with pride whenever you draw a noise out of him. When you take him in as far as you can go without gagging, you feel his hand coming to rest on top of your head and you let him guide your pace.

"Fuck, your mouth feels amazing, sweetheart. You- you wanna show the other guys what you can do too?"

You whine when he takes his cock out of your mouth, but then you realize he meant show them right now, at the same time, because both Rex and Echo have taken their compression pants off (and Rex his armor, too) and you're greeted by two more of their cocks, hard and leaking and so close to your face.

"My lucky day," you joke, but your heart is beating fast with the knowledge you haven't exactly done this before. You just hope you can give all of them the attention they deserve.

Rex stands closest to you, and his cock twitches as you reach to hold it. His hips jerk forward when you press your tongue flat against the underside, tracing a vein that runs all the way along it. Just like Fives, he reaches for your head -- when you take one of his balls into your mouth and suckle on it softly, his fingers tighten their grip into your hair, his breath hitching with every stroke of your hand along his cock. After you give the other ball some attention, you move back to his cock, bobbing your head along it gently until he suddenly thrusts forward, hitting the back of your throat, making you gag.

"Kriff, sorry-"

But you persevere, spurred on to try and take him even deeper even with tears forming in your eyes. The sounds of you struggling to take him down your throat are joined with the sounds of Fives and Echo stroking their own cocks lazily on either side of you. It's lewd, but deliciously so, and your cunt throbs knowing that it's the sight of you that's turning them on.

You swallow around Rex's cock and he curses again, pulling himself out of your mouth.

"I won't l-last long if you keep that up, beautiful," he says, wiping some saliva mixed with precum away from your chin. Your stomach flutters at the pet name, a silly youngling feeling that feels unfitting to the current situation, but you find yourself wanting to hear it again and again.

Instead you turn again to take care of Echo, who seems to be enjoying himself -- his hand is wrapped tightly around the base of his cock and he smiles down at you.

"Your turn, mister," you tease, and a small chuckle escapes his throat.

"Stars, baby, you’re so cute."

Smiling, you lick up the sizable drop of precum that has formed at the head of his cock, drawing small circles around the opening with your tongue. Then much like before, you try to fit as much of him inside you as possible until you gag again -- the unpleasant feeling is somehow unbearably arousing to you, just knowing that his cock is so big, knowing your throat and jaw will hurt after, it sends lightning straight down between your legs.

"Look at me, baby," Echo coos fondly, "that's right, you like my cock, don't you, pretty eyes?"

You nod weakly, turning your attention back to the rhythm you had found while hollowing out your cheeks, when he pulls out of your mouth.

"Gotta keep it fair," he says with a grin while you feel a pair of hands turning you around again.

You service the three of them like this for a while, switching between their cocks while using your hands on the others. You must be an obscene sight, lips swollen and plump, saliva dribbling down your chin, and with every passing minute you're grinding your hips more and more, rubbing your legs together to find pleasure.

"Getting needy, aren't you, sunshine?" Fives teases, his voice raspy as you stroke his cock which is now slippery and shiny with precum and your spit. You hum around Rex, who has gotten to the point where he's thrusting shallowly into your mouth. Your gag reflex seems to have been conquered for the time being. They do say practise makes perfect.

It's Rex who comes first with a groan, his cum filling your throat while he holds your head in place, your nose grazing the hairs around the base of his cock.

"Fuck," Fives says, his hand finding the back of your head, "open your mouth, sweetheart, that's it." You swallow as much of Rex's cum as you can in one go, then open your mouth wide, tongue sticking out. Rex lines himself up with your tongue, pumping his own cock in quick hard motions. He cums with a low, rumbling sigh and his release ends up mostly on your tongue, with some of it on your nose and cheek. Before you realize it, you hear Echo curse beside you and he also finishes, his cum landing on your face and chest, like a marking you're all too happy to wear.

The three of them seem pretty out of breath, and Rex sits down on your bed with a sigh. "Stars," he breathes, pulling the high collar of his shirt away from his neck to let in some cool air. "That was some kind of thank you."

It makes you giggle. He seems more at ease now, having been convinced by the benefits of this arrangement.

Seeing the three of them panting and sweating in your bedroom sends another molten shot of arousal straight to your cunt and you realize your underwear must be soaked by now.

Fives must have realized you were rubbing your legs together, a teasing edge appearing in his voice. "I think you enjoyed that just as much as we did, didn't you? Did that get you wet?"

"Mhm," you admit coyly, "very."

"I think we should do something about that."

With a yelp from you, Fives pulls you up off the floor with ease and you crash into his chest with his nose pressed into your hair.

"Why don't you lie down and let us take care of you?"

Your face turns hot and your cunt throbs with anticipation at his words. But there's one thing that needs to happen first. All of them are still a lot more dressed than you are.

"Shirts off first, all of you," you say with a grin, which they all return.

"Yes, general," Echo jokes, peeling his sweat-soaked undershirt over his head. Now all of them are naked before you, and you can see the differences in their bodies. Echo, despite being the lithest of the three, has the most defined musculature. Fives is slightly broader in the shoulders but narrower at the hips, and seemed to have a little bit of an edge in the body hair department. Rex is the broadest overall, and also the most scarred, with gashes and blaster burns all over his chest, arms, and back. All three of them are beautiful, perfect, and somehow in your bed.

You get comfortable on the mattress, back propped up against a pillow. Surprisingly, it's Rex who finds his way over to you first, the mattress dipping under his knees. He puts his hands (big, warm, calloused) on your knees and spreads your legs so he can get between them.

"B-been wanting to taste you for so long," he says, his voice a dark rumble that strikes you in your core.

"You better take what you want then, Captain." You're not sure where the daring edge in your tone comes from, but after just making three men come with just your hands and mouth, some confidence has gathered in your chest.

Rex slides your underwear off and spreads your lower lips with his thumbs, and you can hear him suck in a breath. Fives sits down on the bed next to you and chuckles.

"Naughty, so wet from sucking dick." You give him a playful nudge which turns into a desperate grasp the moment Rex starts licking your slit in long lines, his tongue putting pressure on your clit repeatedly.

"Oh, fuckkkk-" you moan, your head falling back onto Fives' shoulder. Echo has now sat down on the other side of you and has taken it upon himself to lazily stroke and pinch at your nipples, the small licks of pain making you whine louder. Rex's pace is relentless, not gentle at all, and you find yourself on the edge much sooner than expected. Your nails dig into Fives' arm when Rex adds his fingers into the mix, pumping them in and out and curving them to hit the perfect spot while he sucks hard on your clit until you see-

"Stars!" you cry out, your hips lifting themselves off the bed as you buck into his tongue, your first orgasm of the night hitting you hard and deep. Rex keeps his tongue pushed against you for a while longer, until you come down from your high, slumping back down into the mattress with your breathing heavy and your skin shiny.

"Didn't know you knew how to do that, Captain," Echo jokes, still playing with your tits almost absentmindedly.

Rex wipes some of your slick off his face with the back of his hand and grins. "There's a lot you don't know about me."

When he sits back up, you can't help but notice he's well on his way to being hard again -- so are the others. There's a glimmer of pride in your chest at the moan Fives lets out when you wrap your hands around his cock again. You roll over, knees tucked under you, and bend down to wrap your lips around him again. In this position, you realize your ass is up in the air at an inviting angle, and you spread your knees a little further apart to give the man behind you a good view. It works, because it only takes a few seconds for Rex to grab your ass roughly with both his hands. His fingers line up with the bruises he left there before, and you hope he remembered your plea for their renewal.

"Look at you… you need a cock to fill you up, don't you, sweetheart?”

You hum around Fives’ cock in response, who fists his hand in your hair.

“Or maybe…” Rex’s voice is dark and rumbling, a sound that goes straight to your cunt, but that’s not where he touches you next. His thumb brushes over your exposed asshole and you stop moving your hips instantly in surprise. "... more than one? Think you could do that for us?"

You let Fives' cock slide out of your mouth to reply, spit and precum leaving a stringy trail between you. "Yes, please, I'll be so good for you," you whine, wanting nothing more than precisely that, to be good, to be of use to them, to make them feel good because they deserve it, and you're giddy and proud that they want this from you and no one else.

There's a bottle of oil in your nightstand for occasions like these -- a gift from a friend months ago who swears by this brand, but you hadn't gotten much use out of it yet. After all his nervousness earlier, you were surprised Rex took charge now, although you suppose he had just needed some time to settle into this commanding role that seemed to come so naturally to him in everyday life. The three of them briefly discuss among themselves how they should take you, but you have a hard time paying attention to the specifics. You bite your lip at the thought of the three of them filling all of you, and you can't help but sneak your hand between your legs to put some pressure onto your throbbing clit.

"Uh-uh," Fives tuts at you with a crooked smile, "none of that, now." He grabs the offending hand first and then the other so you can't touch yourself anymore. He laughs when you pout, and it makes you want to kiss the corners of his mouth. "C'mere," he says, pulling you forward to straddle his lap, his erection pressed between your bellies. It feels good, being this close to him, your skin against his. His smirk is still there and so you do steal a kiss, softly rutting against him just to feel him moan into your mouth. "How about the two of us stay like this," he says in your ear, pulling you tighter towards him with a hand on your lower back, "and I get to see your pretty little face while the other guys fuck your ass, hm?" Oh stars above, nothing coherent can leave your mouth in response to that. You press your face into the crook of Fives' neck and whine a breathy please that makes him chuckle. "Alright then sunshine, up you get." His strong hands lift you upwards so you can position yourself over his cock. Like it's the best thing he's ever felt, his eyes flutter closed when you sink down onto him, giving an experimental roll of your hips that tightens his grip on your waist.

"Fuck, I forgot how fucking hot your pussy is," he groans, and you can tell he's exerting some self control not to start fucking your brains out right away. You feel another warm hand on your back and turn to catch a glimpse of Echo.

"Yeah, Fives, you do know how to pick 'em," he jokes softly, but there's something different about him -- out of the three of them, you keep feeling like Echo might not have been attracted to you as much, like he might be happier with some girl from 79's, but now… You wonder if he reeled his feelings in so he wouldn't hurt his friend-- no, maybe that was just your vanity talking. Regardless, you pull Echo in for a short kiss while slowly starting to move with Fives inside you.

The sound of the glass bottle opening behind you gives you goosebumps. Rex's silence feels like the calm before the storm, and you hold your breath in anticipation. The liquid is a little cold when it trickles onto your skin, and you notice Rex also put a generous amount on his hand as he spreads it out, circling your little hole with his thumb. He works one finger into you gently, but you can feel the stretch and you cling onto Fives' shoulders.

"You alright, sunshine?" he asks and you nod, soothed by his voice and the circles Echo is rubbing on your back. Rex works you open gradually with his fingers, adding more oil when needed while Fives whispers words of encouragement into your ear. He keeps his hips painfully still -- your cunt throbs around him and you know he can feel it, too, but he doesn't budge, not yet.

“You’re doing so well, sunshine. Do you think you’re ready?”

“Mmhm,” you murmur against the skin of his shoulder.

“Ask Captain Rex nicely, then.”

You tilt your head up to look at him in slight bewilderment, only to find a playful smirk on his face. Before you can think of what to say, Rex starts slowly pulling his fingers out, grazing them along the sensitive skin in and around your ass, and you whine as you bury your face in Rex’s neck again.

“P-please, captain,” you cry, “please, please.”

His hands firmly dig into your asscheeks, rough and purposeful.

“Please what?”

Your words come out stifled and choked, both held back by your embarrassment to say something so filthy out loud, and shaken up by desire.

“Please fuck my a-ass, I need your cock, Rex, please!”

“Well done, sweetheart,” he says in that low voice that makes you quiver. He lines his cock up with your ass and you can’t help but buck your hips back slightly. His hands take hold of your sides and he starts pushing himself in, splitting you open easily with the help of the oil.

You’re full, so very full, and it’s so much, on the edge of being painful but not quite. Every part of your skin that touches one of your lovers is on fire, burning with arousal like it did when you had those toxins in your body, but better, now that your mind is sound. Whenever you think he can’t go any deeper, he does, and all you can do is hold onto Fives, digging your nails into his skin in the process.

“Fuck, stars, you take me so well,” Rex says behind you.

Echo pets your hair softly. “How’s it feel, baby?”

“F-feels good,” you respond, your words slurring together. Now both Fives and Rex are holding still with you in between them. The waiting is unbearable, like when the ocean pulls back before its biggest waves, and you are waiting for the water to crash.

The smallest roll of your hips is all it takes -- Rex groans as he pulls out about halfway, then thrusts back into you. From below you, Fives starts tilting his hips upwards, and you feel your cunt getting wetter around his cock. With the way you’re lying forwards on his chest, your clit rubs against him every time Rex slams his hips forwards. They move faster and faster, their skin slapping against yours and all you can do is sob, warm tears of pleasure mixing with sweat as they roll down your cheeks.

You can take more. You want to take more, and you look up at Echo through your wet lashes, reaching out for him, trying to find your words.

“Echo,” you whine softly, “my mouth, you can-”

You don’t have to tell him twice. He shifts so his cock is directly in front of your face instantly, unbearably hard and leaking. Your mouth opens almost instinctively, tongue lolling out to taste as much of him as possible.

Rex chuckles behind you as each thrust of his hips forces Echo’s cock further down your throat as you moan around him.

“Seems I was right the first time,” he says, not halting his speed even a little bit, “you really are a good little whore, aren’t you?”

Fuck, why do those words turn you on so much? Being called names was never something you wanted, but the way he said it, in that fucking delicious voice of his, it set you on fire and makes your cunt clench eagerly.

“Kriff, you liked that, didn’t you? Got all tight around me.”

Your mouth is too full of Echo’s cock to answer, but your throat lets out a noise that Echo clearly likes, because he moans and his strong hand finds purchase on your scalp. They fuck you mercilessly, all three of them pounding and thrusting into your body while you bounce on Fives’ cock and grind your clit against him. There is a deep focus to it, this steady rhythm while holding Echo’s cock into your mouth, but it feels so good and so complete, all of you moving together, thinking of nothing else but chasing the pleasure building in your cunt, and once you start slamming your hips down at the same moment Fives thrusts his up, it’s like the ocean wave crashing into the shore with full force, dragging you along with it. You come hard, a white-hot orgasm that shakes you to your core. You let Echo’s cock slip out of your mouth the moment you scream, and Five holds you against his chest where you can hear the pounding of his heart.

Fives halts the relentless thrusting of his hips for a moment, but not Rex -- he gives you not a moment of rest as he uses your ass with the same ferocity he used your cunt back on that planet.

“Fuck, fuck,” he swears behind you, “I’m gonna fucking- gonna cum, gonna fill this t-tight little ass up, would you like that? You wanna take my cum like a g-good little whore?”

“Yes, please, Rex,” you sob in reply.

He buries his cock deep inside your ass, his grip on your hips so tight it hurts, and then suddenly you feel a hand in your hair at the back of your head. Rex grabs a handful of hair and pulls, lifting your head up and back. He keeps you there while he coats your insides with his release, swearing throughout it, before letting you fall back onto Fives’ chest.

Echo stands up from the bed the second Rex pulls out of you and switches places with him.

“You can take a little more, can’t you, baby?” Echo says, lining his cock up with your ass. Some incoherent noise comes out of you as an answer, and Echo pushes in. Rex has opened you up enough for him to enter you easily, but knowing he’s fucking Rex’s cum back inside of you fans the flames in your belly and you can’t help but start bucking your hips back to feel it more, while Fives’ cock is still hot and throbbing in your cunt.

“Look at you,” you hear Rex say, “you can’t get enough of it, can you? Fucking yourself on two cocks at the same time, and looking so pretty doing it.”

“Mmm,” Fives agrees, and you can hear he’s trying to keep his composure but his breathing is ragged as he comes closer to his own release, “such a pretty little cockslut.”

The way they talk to you spurs you on, which they probably intended, and you start riding Fives like your life depends on it, pushing your upper body up a little straighter so you can look at him. He’s beautiful like this, face flushed, beads of sweat between his knitted brows while he intensely chases his pleasure. As soon as you look him in the eye he grabs the back of your head to pull you down, your forehead to his forehead, your nose to his nose, his eyes closed.

“You’re so f-fucking perfect,” he mutters, then lets out a long groan while he spills inside you, his head crashing backwards into the pillow. Echo’s thrusts get shorter and faster now and you buck back against him, wanting to give everything you still have left inside you. Rex’s hand sneaks up between your body and Fives’ to find your clit.

“Cum one more time, sweetheart, I know you can, with two cocks inside you.”

It’s too much -- you want to, but you don’t know if you can, don’t you if you’re even capable.

“I-I can’t, I-” you try to plead, but he rubs your clit roughly and you sob, hot tears wetting your cheeks. Echo tenses up behind you and you know he’s going to finish soon but-

Slap.

Rex’s hand comes down and strikes your asscheek so hard you squeal.

“I said cum.”

You do. You can’t explain it, but you do, an almost painful orgasm coursing through you while the sting of the strike lingers. A curse leaves your mouth but is caught by Fives’ lips pressing to yours and his tongue in your mouth. Echo spills his release into your ass with a moan, and with all three of their loads inside you, you have never felt so full.

After Echo pulls out, you climb off of Fives and let yourself fall backwards onto the mattress, every inch of you covered in sweat. Rex leans over to move some hair out of your face.

“Was that too much?” he asks, and the gentleness in his voice is almost heartbreaking.

“No,” you answer, a blissful smile on your face from how unbelievably good you’ve been fucked, “that was just right.” He leans over to press a kiss to your forehead, and you feel an ever so slight trace of stubble on his jaw, less than a day’s growth. You’ve never thought about him shaving, but you’d like to watch him do it, some day. Fives sits up, grabs your hand and puts it to his lips, pressing a firm kiss to your knuckles. Moments later, Echo appears with a towel from your closet and starts cleaning you up, dabbing the cloth between your thighs where their cum has started trickling out of you.

“So,” you start, grinning playfully “are we even, now?”

Rex chuckles and gets up off the bed to find his underclothes -- no doubt duty will call for him again soon. You feel so, so lucky, that these three men have chosen to spend what little free time they have with you, and a warmth spreads through your chest as you look at them, eyes half-lidded from drowsiness.

“Not a chance,” he jokes, stepping into his briefs.

Fives lets go of your hand and strokes your cheek with his thumb, grinning down at you, and Echo, too, has a smile on his face. Rex kisses your forehead one more time.

“You won’t get rid of us that easily.”

#captain rex x reader #fives x reader #echo x reader #clone troopers x reader #the clone wars #captain rex #fives #echo #if you read all of this thank you ilu

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starlightrows · 2 years

Text

Chapter 3 —The Process

The Mother Master List

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Pairing: Jango Fett x fem!reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: Fluff, a hint of angst, medical jargon, non explicit discussion of IVF treatments, early pregnancy

Summary: You and Jango settle into your lives on Kamino and start taking the steps to get this cloning project, and your surrogacy in motion

AN: There is a bonus chapter in between chapters 2&3, the writing process on it just wasn’t coming together despite working on it for months… it’ll come out at some point before the story is finished. Maybe for my birthday next year. Feel free to ask about it in dm’s or in the ask box!

Please note! This fem!reader has a name used for story telling purposes only, other than that she is left entirely up to your interpretation for appearance!

The apartment on Kamino is massive, to you anyway. A beautiful kitchen that’s been fully stocked, a sitting room with comfortable couches and a view of the raging oceans, a small storage closet where Jango keeps his armor, a small bedroom and a master bedroom.

It’s more than you’d ever dreamed of given that you’d spent your life in shared spaces and servants quarters. Communal, not necessarily the cleanest, and certainly not the quietest given the number of people occupying the space. You’d only ever lived in open spaces like that, with thin mattresses and flimsy blankets, all of your possessions had to be kept on your body or hidden in your bedding. Not that the servants ever had many possessions to begin with. It’s what you were born into, so you were used to it.

This moderately sized apartment was like a personal palace to you. Sure you’d spent your life working in a large household, with many rooms and frequent guests. But you never imagined you yourself would ever live anywhere other than the servants quarters.

Initially Jango offered to let you have one of the rooms to yourself, despite already having shared a bed with you, he wanted to give you the option to set your own boundaries. You gently declined his offer.

“To be honest, I’ve never actually slept in a room by myself,” you admit shyly “and I don’t know about you, but I’d like for us to have a space just for the two of us,”

“I’d like that a lot cyare,” he seems to relax at your reassurance.

“Besides we’ll need that room for the baby soon enough,” you smile, imagining putting in a cradle and a rocking chair. Eventually replacing it with a little bed for the little boy who will someday grow into it.

That seemed to quell his worries, and there was no more talk of separate rooms. You enjoy sleeping next to him on the large, comfortable bed in the master bedroom. You feel safe waking up in his arms, and hope you’ll get to wake up this way everyday for a very long time.

The only problem with the lovely apartment are the obnoxious white walls and bright fluorescent lights that seem to make your menstrual headaches unbearable. And you’re not the only one who’s suffering.

“I’m gonna install different lights when I have the strength to stand again,” Jango grumbles from his place on the floor of the bedroom.

“I’m just gonna turn them off when I can move without blacking out,” you groan in reply from the bed.

Shortly after arriving to Kamino, you met the medical staff that would be performing all of the procedures and taking care of you during your pregnancy. You had to remind yourself that these people are experts in cloning and fertility, despite their intensely creepy and overbearing nature. You hope that Jango was serious about being with you for the whole process, because these long necked creatures, with their massive soul devouring eyes, do not bring you a lot of comfort or assurance.

The head doctor that would be overseeing your pregnancy and delivery informed you that their plan was to remove your contraceptive implant as soon as possible to allow your body to resume a normal menstrual cycle. Once your body has sufficiently acclimated to regulating your hormones without the implant, the doctors would give you a week long round of a hormone treatment that would thicken the lining of your uterus to prepare for the implantation of the embryo. They promised the procedures would be mostly painless and would guarantee a successful implantation.

Unfortunately for you, “mostly painless” was a gross miscommunication of the fact that you were about to experience the heaviest and most painful period you’ve ever had, following the removal of the implant. You’ve already thrown up twice from the cramps, bled through more menstrual absorbents than you ever believed possible, and have found yourself unable to move from the fetal position on the bed.

Jango is doing no better. The Kaminoans decided in the same week that he needed to begin making DNA donations immediately in order to have not only the embryo for your surrogacy ready, but the first batch of clones as well. That meant a massive blood draw, a spinal tap, and some other fairly invasive and uncomfortable procedures that have left him feverish, sore, and extremely weak at the moment. At first he tried to lay down with you on the bed, but he found the cushion of the mattress to be too much, for some reason the flatness of the floor was more soothing to him at the moment.

What a pathetic pair the two of you were. Your first few days living together...being together as a couple and you’re both trembling, in pain, ill and unable to provide the care and comfort you’d both like to.

Luckily within the next day or so he does regain his strength and the fever passes, he does change out all the lights in the apartment in exchange for softer ones that ease your headache and makes the pristine apartment feel more like a home, and he does his best to help you through the last days of your uncomfortable and lengthy period.

You’re quite impressed with his ability to anticipate your needs. You wonder if he has a mother, sisters, or if any of his former lovers had menstrual cycles this harsh. Either way you’re grateful for his willingness to refresh your water, apply heating patches to your lower back, and bring you food. He gifted you with a holopad to watch films, listen to music and read. And he’s warming up to cuddling too, but you’ve realized it either doesn’t come easy to him or he’s holding back for some reason. At least when he’s awake, when you lay together in bed at night and when you take up in the morning, he’s always got an arm around you. But he’s more hesitant and restrained during the day. You make a mental note to ask him about both of those things at some point.

Eventually your cycle ends, and you feel like yourself again. The Kaminoans want you to wait until you’re halfway through your next cycle to start giving you the hormone treatment to get your uterus ready, and that suits you just fine. So you spend your free time walking around Tipoca City, and enjoying Jango’s company when he can spare it. They are keeping him quite busy working on creating training protocols, and finding instructors to teach soon to be created clones.

To his credit, Jango does not exclude you from this aspect of his life here on Kamino. You’re welcome to participate if you’d like, but you find it all rather boring. So you find yourself walking the halls and watching the turbulent ocean waves that crash up onto the full length windows that line the city walls. They’re terrifying and exciting, and nothing like you’ve ever experienced.

Jango promises to take you to other planets when things are a little more settled here. Once the project is well underway he promises to show you mountains, forests, open plains and even snow. Snow is something pretty high up your list of things to see.

“I’m going to hold you to that promise,” you tell him one evening laying beside him in bed “Let it be known, here and now that when I’m pregnant you won’t keep me cooped up in this apartment,”

“Have I ever broken a promise I’ve made to you?” He asks pulling you closer, you kiss his cheek and giggle

“Not yet,”

Your week of hormone treatment goes by relatively quickly, you’re anxious but excited as the week comes to an end. In a mere matter of hours, you’ll be going back into the med bay to have the teeny little embryo implanted into your uterus. You’ll be pregnant. Something you longed for your whole life. Jango seemed a little anxious too, like it’s too good to be true.

Just like he promised, Jango accompanies you to the medical center and waits outside the examination room while the embryo implantation procedure occurs. The doctors ask you to stay on the table with your hips elevated for 30 minutes, thankfully the creepy Kaminoans leave and allow Jango to come in to sit with you instead.

He strokes your hair and smiles lovingly at you, “I’m sure I already know the answer, but do you feel any different?” he asks

“Ya know, the only thing that feels different right now is that a bleached rib bone looking creature just took a good hard look at my lady bits. Kind of wish that procedure could have been done by a medical droid instead,” you whisper to him. He stifles a laugh, trying not to make too much noise.

“You’re terrible,” he chuckles, continuing to stroke your hair.

“I kind of can’t believe this is all real,” you say softly gazing up into his dark eyes. “Just over a month ago I was still on Kuna. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. And now-”

You place your hands over your stomach. It feels no different but you know. You know right this second the tiny ball of cells that will soon be a child is latching on to you to grow and be nurtured until he’s ready to be born. Jango places his hand over yours and laces your fingers with his.

“You’re gonna be a good mother Farrah,” he whispers leaning down to kiss your forehead. His large hand cradles your head, you feel small under his soft lips. But you also feel strong and confident, ready for this challenge and this commitment.

The next few days after the transfer you don’t feel any different either. The doctors assure you that it’s normal and you’ll begin feeling symptoms soon, but you’ll have to wait two weeks for a positive pregnancy test anyway. But you can’t help feeling anxious, this baby means everything to Jango, and now to you as well. You try to take things easy while you wait; enjoy your walks around the city, read about all the different places in the galaxy you hope to visit, spend time walking through the empty barracks that will soon be filled with hundreds of thousands of mini Jango’s all learning and growing together, and doing everything the doctors tell you to do.

At the end of the first week Jango can tell you’re getting antsy and nervous at not feeling any symptoms of early pregnancy yet. As much as he wants to tell you it’s fine and not to worry, he’s worried too. If the implantation isn’t successful, obviously there is the option to try again. But if conception continued to be unsuccessful… well that was something he hadn’t thought too much about. He’s already told you that if you didn’t want to proceed with the pregnancy that he would relent and allow his son to be born via a gestational chamber.

But this last month and a half being with you, he hasn’t felt this comfortable or relaxed in years. And maybe part of that is the surplus of money in the bank and being occupied with tasks that involve less danger, but a bigger part he’s sure of, is you. Every morning you’re awake before him, too used to a life of waking up before the sun to start working, and making caf in the kitchen. You’ve learned that he always takes his caf with just a little bit of cream to take off the bitter edge. You make the bed every day, he never realized how much having the bed made makes a difference in quality of sleep. You greet him when he returns to the apartment each evening and tell him of all the incredible things you’ve discovered in reading from the HoloNet you now have access to. You make home cooked meals, something Jango really hasn’t had since he was a child. And every night you kiss him, even if it’s just a brief peck on the lips. It’s just as electric and warm as that first kiss back in the bar. And he always wants more.

All these little things about you, he would be hard pressed to let them go. He doesn’t want you to go. And he’s afraid that if you’re unable to conceive you’ll want to leave this place and move on from him. Even in this short time he can already feel himself getting attached, growing roots that seem to curl into you, wanting to keep you close. For now he pushes those thoughts away, it’s still too early to tell.

In the meantime, the first batch of embryos for the cloning project have matured enough to be transferred into gestational tubes, and the second and third batches seem to be growing at a healthy rate as well. You’re fascinated by them, often sneaking into the labs where the gestational tubes are housed just to look at them. The room is dark and quiet, hundreds of cylindrical tubes illuminated by soft red light, with a singular tiny little blob in each tube suspended in clearish liquid that radiates warmth. Sitting in this room simultaneously makes your heart ache but also comforts you immensely. It’s the only place other than the apartment you really want to be for the time being.

On the 11th day after the embryo transfer you are relieved to wake up to cramping and a touch of nausea. A quick trip to the fresher reveals that you’ve begun spotting. You’re so happy you could cry, it worked. You feel it in your heart more than anything else, but you know the embryo has implanted and that you are pregnant. You decided not to mention your recent revelations to Jango, you still have to wait another three days to take an official pregnancy test and you’d rather get his initial reaction when you know for sure that it’s true. Your visit to the incubation room feels different that day. Your heart doesn’t ache in anyway. All you feel is joy and excitement for your baby, and for each and everyone of one the little embryos that seem to be doubling in size each day.

Of course, the official test comes back positive and you can honestly say it is the happiest moment of your entire life, to know for certain there is life within you. And the look on Jango’s face is priceless. Pure elation in the form of the widest more genuine smile you’ve ever seen, a deep hearty laugh that seeps into your soul, and a kiss unlike any the two of you have shared before.

Chapter 4 →

Tag List: @escapedthesarlacc @paige6768 @littledragonlady @adancedivasmom @thefact0rygirl @heybub

#Star Wars #star wars prequels #Pre Clone Wars Era #Jango Fett #Jango Fett x reader #The Mother

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ironmandeficiency · 3 years

Text

accidents happen

pairing: kix / mechanic!reader (afab here)

word count: 2163

summary: accidents happen even to the most careful people.

a/n: can be read as part of the kix/mechanic!reader universe i accidentally made (here, here, and here). made some tweaks to the og req but stuck to the general theme. sprinkled in a few of my oc boys for ✨flair✨

warnings: speeder crash, prego!reader

you don’t remember much of the speeder crash. it was a blur of lights, a cacophony of twisting metal and the screams of passersby as they worry about the wellbeing of those involved. that is, until your head slammed too hard against the controls and knocked you out cold.

the sensations of latex icicles checking your pulse roused you from your unconscious state. your eyes struggled against the bright lights of what you knew was the five-oh-first medbay, the foggy yet familiar voices of frantic clones being a dead giveaway. they were worried about many things—your condition after the wreck, whether you would be able to return to field work with them once you recovered, kix’s reaction once he catches wind of what happened...

kix hadn’t kept his cool when your arm was slightly crushed by general skywalker’s delta-7 aethersprite, how was he going to handle his cyare being in a speeder crash?

answer’s simple: he wouldn’t.

kix had just left the operating room when he heard the commotion of a new patient being brought in. jogging to the cot where they lifted the patient, he pushed his way through the unusually tight crowd of vode until he got to the foot of the bed. “alright boys, what do we got?”

“speeder crash just outside of 500 republica, two broken ribs, a—oh we got it taken care of kix, go get some rest-”

“you just left surgery, take a break!”

“this’ll be easy peasy, we got it!”

the voices of his brothers were agitated as the crowd was damn near trying to push him away. with a few well-placed nudges and shoulder bumps, kix realized that they indeed were trying to push him away. this just made him all the more intent on figuring out why they were trying to boot him out. he was a medic for kriff’s sake, bronco had no business trying to shove him out of the way like that!

“easy peasy my shebs, bronco! i…”

it was you.

you were lying unconscious on the bed in front of him, surrounded by brothers on all sides as the other medics, clone and civvie alike, were taking care of you. there was an oozing, bloody gash along your temple and a growing knot that was already grossly discolored.

it was instinct for kix to want to take point on this. it was you, he didn’t want anything to go wrong. and if something did go wrong, he wouldn’t want to have the scapegoat of blaming a vod for anything. it had to be on him, he had to be the one to take care of you.

the protests of several vode immediately follow kix’s insistence, multiple hands starting to pull him from your bedside. he begins to struggle against them and they immediately start to grip him tighter as they guide him towards the exit.

“you can’t do this! i need to-mmph! be here! let me go!”

“you know why we can’t do that, vod.”

“bantha karking shit you can’t! i need to be there, you don’t understand!”

arguments continued and tension mounted in the medbay, kix still fighting to get to you while the others were either treating you or holding him back. all other conscious thought ceased to be, the gut instinct of taking care of you being his only purpose.

then a firm voice booms through the chaos with enough force to wake the dead as he calls the medic’s name.

“leave, kix. that’s an order.”

rex’s heart was being smashed by his own boot as he spoke. he hated having to be the one giving the ultimatum to the frightened medic in front of him, but as captain, the burden fell onto him. kix was clearly not able to separate you from what needs to be done for the patient and he was not going to allow that kind of responsibility on his vod’s shoulders.

not if he was going to be able to sleep tonight.

rex’s eyes betrayed how much it hurt him, but the bristling of his words showed no such emotion. he couldn’t show any of this inner conflict, not as a captain and especially not as ori’vod to nearly every man surrounding your bed. but the men know that their captain isn’t heartless, that he views you as one of the best things to happen to the five-oh-first, that he has a reason for everything he does.

it takes a hell of a lot more convincing (read: sedative) to get kix to back down. rex and fives carried the medic to the barracks, taking care to lay him down gently. the proximity to the younger trooper told rex that a sedated kix was having more of an effect on him than he let on.

even though fives had other duties to take care of while on leave, rex knew that a distracted fives would not be able to complete any of them to his regular standards. so, like a good captain and ori’vod, he excused the younger brother from his tasks.

“you can stay with him,” rex could read the arc trooper like a datapad; fives was tense and afraid, two feelings that only his closest brothers would recognize on him. “he’ll probably feel better if someone’s here when he wakes up.”

“but rex—“

“i know you stayed with him the last time his cyare was injured, fives. he would be grateful to have someone with him during this.” fives nodded his thanks grimly, taking his perch at kix’s bedside.

rex returned to the medbay with haste, hoping against hope that your injuries were mild. his return to the medbay was met with you awake, recounting the story of how you were rammed by a rogue speeder that ran their traffic light.

“we’re just glad you’re okay, gotabor.”

“yeah, no speeder can keep you down.”

a wave of peace rushes over the tired captain and he takes his leave. you were okay, kix would be okay, the five-oh-first would be okay.

queen and starchild continued to praise your resilience (“the toughest mechanic in the gar” is what you’ve been dubbed) before they’re cut off briskly by morticus, whose face was sporting a strangely lighter expression, like some of the burdens he carried were lightened for a moment.

“but we also have some news, gotabor. some that you really should be told in private.”

your first instinct is to tell morticus that you trust these men with your life, that anything he had to say could be said in front of them. but something in his eyes told you that pushing the matter wouldn’t end well. “i’ll be here when you get back, boys,” you give the remaining troopers soft smiles and a gentle squeeze of their hands, reassuring them that you were okay now, that in the hands of the five-oh-first you were the safest you’ve ever been.

they took a reluctant leave, looking over their shoulders one last time as they left the medbay. it wasn’t that they didn’t trust morticus, no not that at all, it just seemed that you had a penchant for getting injured and when brothers were repeatedly injured in increasingly severe ways, they didn’t always stay around much longer.

morticus is quick to say what he needs to, privacy being a very rare luxury in a five-oh-first medbay whether on leave or otherwise. “now that we have some privacy, gotabor, i have some news.” again, there was this happier lilt to his voice that he just didn’t have. morticus was stoic, cynical, even a bit dickish on the right day. to see him smile and sound happy about something was abnormal but pleasant all the same.

“is everything alright?”

“more than alright—you’re expecting.”

your face warped in your confusion, eyebrows crinkled and lips slightly pursed. “expecting what, morti?”

this man laughed—genuinely laughed—at your reply and if you weren’t so distracted by your perplexion, you would have said something about how nice his laugh is.

“a child, gotabor’ika. you’re pregnant.”

a sly grin made an appearance, morticus’s voice slightly teasing. the air was lighter around him than it has been in a long time and he was going to enjoy it with everything he’s got. “i’m going to assume that the baby belongs to kix—“

“of course it’s his, di’kut! but we had been so careful, always using protection! i don’t know how this happened…” racking your brain, you tried to remember a time when the two of you were a little less than careful but came up empty. “we weren’t trying for this, morti. it just happened, it was an accident.”

he patted your thigh with a smile. “sometimes accidents happen to even the most careful people. just take this as a win and keep going.” something to your far left beeped—another brother’s machine—and morticus quickly reverted back to tense medic mode, scrutinizing the readings before taking notes in their datapad and returning to your side.

“you got this, gotabor. you’re made of the stronger stuff.” he flurries around you, making sure you’re as comfortable as possible before telling you to rest and that kix will be with you soon. it didn’t take a seasoned member of the resolute to know that kix was so devoted and bent on protecting you however possible, and you knew that he was probably sedated yet again. he would be here when he’s up, you know he will. you just hoped that he liked what he was waking up to.

rex made sure to stop by kix’s bunk to tell fives that you were conscious and by all accounts, appeared to only be mildly banged up. the way the tension fell from his vodika’s shoulders comforted rex, glad that he could give the arc good news to depart onto the unconscious medic before them, the smile on his face genuine as he departed from the barracks.

it wasn’t very long after rex left that kix began to stir. as predicted by fives and the rest of those aware of the situation, his first waking thoughts and concerns were for you. the arc was quick to console his vod and encouraged him to go to the medbay to see you as if kix could have been stopped. fives had to bargain (and trade some of his favorite candies from his stash) to convince kix to let him walk to the medbay with him, the medic still on shaky legs after being sedated.

everyone with a lick of sense knew to steer clear of kix until he was able to see you again. they made a path for him and fives without hesitation, knowing that all hell would be let loose if any of them tried to stop their advancing to the medbay.

“special delivery for gotabor’ika!” fives shouts as he enters, promptly getting shushed by coric and morticus.

you laugh from your cot when you hear your second favorite trooper before you see him. “over here, fives!” he follows your voice and soon, kix is being deposited on the foot of your bed with a smile.

fives grins and pokes his cheek, signaling for a small peck in return for his services. “now if you’ll just sign here-ow!” honestly he should expect the light slap you deliver to his face instead. “you got him from here, gotabor. get better soon, i don’t trust those kriffing ships without ya!” he leaves with a smile and a wave, comforted to see that you’re truly okay.

kix still hasn’t laid down with you and you’re slightly worried. by now, he’d be wrapped all over you like a tooka to lothnip. you nudge him with your foot to get his attention and when he finally meets your gaze, his eyes are wet. it looks like he’s trying his best to not cry but it’s soon to be a losing battle.

“kix, baby what’s-“

“you’re pregnant.”

the datapad with the reports of your injuries and conditions is cradled in his palms. bloodwork has never lied to him before but every nerve is on edge, like this would all be pulled out from under him the moment he let himself indulge in the what-if’s.

you weren’t sure how he would react to the news and he isn’t exactly giving you any hints as to how he feels about this which slightly worries you; kix has never been one too shy away from telling you his thoughts and the fact he’s doing it now has your stomach in a knot. “honey, what-“

your question can’t even leave your lips before the datapad is tossed on the bed and he’s wrapping his arms around you, face buried into your shoulder and failing to hold back the tears. at least he doesn’t seem to be angry, that’s a plus. “i love you so much, ner gotabor,” he raises his head to meet your eyes, one hand resting on your stomach with a teary smile. “i love both of you.”

kix taglist: @blue-space-porgs @leias-left-hair-bun @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky @olluea @catsnkooks @simping-for-fives @captainrexstan @mackstrut @battletales @stardustsunrisekisses @darthadeline @artemis61003 @majorshiraharu @getdookuedon @capricornrabies @jedi-mando @whovianwar @hornystarwarsbisexual @bo-kryze

#kix x reader #kix #clone medic kix #star wars the clone wars #star wars #star wars imagines #star wars reader insert #star wars fanfic #swtcw #clone trooper imagine #captain rex #kix x you #tw pregnancy #pregnant!reader #afab!reader

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chaoticvampirejedi · 3 years

Text

Ghosts of 79's

Summary: You loved your job as a bartender at 79's, but times have changed. Now the clones, loyal to the Empire, stopped coming here, so the bar had to be sold. You decided to come there one last time and say goodbye to this place. There, you can't stop thinking about the clones, the nights you spent here, and your relationship with Rex.

Pairing: Rex X GN!reader

Word count: 1947 (it was supposed to be under 1000 words)

Warnings: light angst, drinking, alcohol use, mentions of war and characters death

Tags: @ladykatakuri @hellothere-generalangsty @twinkofthedink (if I confused something and you didn't want to be tagged please let me) know

It has never been so quiet in this place before. No music. No laughter. No sound of feet clumsily dancing on the floor. 79's looked like a miserable shadow of itself. Unnaturally silent and empty. There was this old saying on Coruscant that every bar has its heart that keeps it alive. If that was true, 79's had definitely lost its own. It was almost unbelievable how abruptly things have changed.

And who could have expected it? you thought, looking at the blue illuminated bar counter where you used to make drinks every night; right now these nights felt like from another life.

You had no idea why you came here today; you didn't work here anymore. No one did. But you couldn't just leave this place without saying goodbye to it. Not after all these nights. Your gaze shifted at one of the tables and for a second you could have sworn that you heard familiar voices shouting "To the 501st!".

The 501st Legion. Your favorite clones in white and blue armors that always seemed to have the craziest ideas. You smiled thinking about them. Memories came back. Good memories.

"Look who's here! The best bartender on Coruscant!," you used to hear often. It was usually Fives who greeted you this way. He and Tup loved to talk with you. Usually about their missions and battles; you loved those stories, their lives seemed so fascinating compared to yours. Surprisingly they had a different opinion on this.

"Ok, enough about us," Tup said once. "Y/N, and how about you? Tell us something interesting!"

"Me? Interesting?" you laughed. "Listen, my life is more boring than a broken droid. I have nothing interesting to tell you."

"Oh, come on!" Fives almost fell from his stool, he definitely had drunk too much that evening. "You work in the clone bar! I bet Tup's hair you have so many good stories! Just tell us something! Anything!"

And so, after a moment of thought, you told them; you told them about that one time you accidentally found one clone and your friend kissing in the bathroom. And then you told them about another fun day at your work. And another. And another. The three of you had such a great time that before you knew it your shift was over, but even then you stayed at the bar; you had too much fun to just go home. You smiled thinking about that day, the day you realized that maybe your life is not as boring as you thought.

You never found out how exactly Fives and Tup died, for some reason, no 501st trooper wanted to talk about their deaths and you decided to respect it even though it wasn't easy for you.

Now, looking at the empty stools you were wondering, if you will ever find such wonderful customers, again. Probably not. Fives and Tup were special.

You looked away and your gaze fell on the stairs that led to the upper floor of the bar now unlit and shrouded in the darkness. You chuckled, unable to suppress your smile as you remembered how you once slow danced on them with Kix. He had always seemed to be calm and sensible, and yet a few months ago he surprised you with this silly idea.

"Come on! Just one dance and then you can go back to work!" his hand gently grabbed your wrist. "I have to prove to Jesse that I'm not boring! I'm a good dancer. I promise you won't fall!"

He was right. You didn't fall. You both did.

And even if this incident left you with a sprained ankle, you couldn't stay angry with the medic for long. Especially since it was he who introduced you to Rex.

Rex…

Suddenly your smile disappeared.

He almost never visited 79's, but the others used to talk about him so often that when he finally showed up at the bar you recognized him immediately.

"So you're the bartender my medic fell down the stairs with," the blond-haired clone said when he heard your name.

"Oh, so you've heard about me," you laughed, pushing a drink towards him.

"Well... Let's say this story has become very popular, right Kix?" Rex turned to look at his friend, but he wasn't there anymore. "Kix?"

"It looks like this place is dangerous for him." something about Rex made you feel relaxed and in a joking mood. "First the stairs, and now he has just disappeared. Maybe you should go after him because who knows what will happen next? Murderous bathroom door?"

Rex chuckled and you couldn't help but think how cute he is when he's amused.

"Kix can take care of himself," he said, slowly turning the glass in his fingers. "He'll be fine. Besides..." he looked at you and smiled. "I really want to hear your version of that story."

After that evening his visits at 79's became more frequent. He never drank too much and spent most of his time talking with you. Soon you realized that you were looking forward to these meetings. Rex was… different from any other clone you've met before. Neither in a bad way, nor in a good way. He was just different.

There was something special about him and you couldn't explain it, but every time you saw him you felt happy and every time he had to leave you felt sad. And of course, you had been flirting with him; both of you knew you liked each other. Actually, everyone knew it, you weren't very discreet with it.

Then why didn't you do something about it sooner? you've been torturing yourself with this question for a long time, still unable to find the right answer.

Were you too shy?

Or maybe too scared that for him it was just casual flirting?

Now all these doubts seemed ridiculous. Everything was lost anyway.

Once again you looked at the counter bar and took a deep breath. You slowly stood behind it with your hand running over its cold and unusually clean surface. That was it. Right now, you were standing in the same place you last spoke to him. You stared at the empty seat in front of you, wondering what you told him then that made him laugh so much.

It was some joke about a droid and a Separatist, so stupid and childish that for one awkward second you thought Rex will be disgusted, but apparently he didn't mind. Instead, he just leaned toward you with a smile on his face.

"I have to tell you…" he was so close you could feel his breath on your cheek. "Thank you for this evening. I'm glad that I came here today. I really am."

"Wait," you almost knocked off a drink that you had just prepared for one of the customers. "Are you trying to tell me that you're leaving? Now?"

It was still quite early and you hoped that he would stay here for at least two more hours.

"Yeah. Tomorrow's a busy day".

You knew what that meant; tomorrow he will leave Coruscant once again.

"I see…" you mumbled, avoiding his eyes. There was no point in asking him when he would be back. No one knew it. "Well… Good luck then."

"Thank you." a weak smile appeared on his face. There was an awkward silence between you as there was nothing more to do or say.

"So… Goodbye."

"Goodbye." Rex was clearly embarrassed. "Please, take care."

"Yeah… You too."

"Always." he took the last sip of his drink and got up from the stool.

It was the moment when something broke inside you.

"Wait!" you grabbed his hand and looked frantically at his surprised face.

"Come with me. To my home. It's not that far from here. I- I'll say that I had an emergency and I have to leave earlier, so we can spend some time together... You know. Alone."

Your own words surprised you, but you didn't want to give up on this, so when you saw that Rex was hesitating you quickly added.

"My bed is very comfortable and I make the best breakfasts on this planet. You'll rest like never before."

"A nice bed and good breakfast you say?" Rex asked flirtatiously and tenderly brushed a stray of hair from your face. He clearly liked this idea. You had already smiled, convinced that he would agree, but then his facial expression changed. He wasn't the man who came to 79's to have fun and flirt with the bartender, anymore. He was a soldier. Loyal to the Republic and seriously taking the role assigned to him.

"No. Sorry. I can't." his hand slipped from yours. "Not today. Next time. I promise"

Next time.

But the next time has never come. You had been making drinks for so many clones, waiting for him but he never went through 79's doors again. Weeks and months passed and the 501st still didn't come back. You had been wondering how they were doing. Were they safe? Were they alive? Was he alive? Everyone had been talking that the war was coming to an end, so you let yourself believe that you would meet him again soon.

And then one day ruined everything. The Republic had fallen. Jedi had become traitors and clones…

You still couldn't understand it. Suddenly all clones have become imperial soldiers. Why? How? You knew them. They were loyal to the Republic and Jedi. Not to the Empire. Nothing made sense anymore.

That feral day also changed 79's forever. All clones stopped coming here and the rest of the Coruscant didn't want to spend any time in the "clone bar". Especially after recent events. The owner didn't hesitate for long; he sold the bar as soon as he realized that 79's couldn't be saved.

A single tear dropped on the counter. You promised yourself you wouldn't cry, but you couldn't help it. This place meant a lot to you and what? You were supposed to leave it behind, just like that? You knew you wouldn't be working here forever, but this? This wasn't supposed to happen. You were supposed to celebrate the end of the war with Rex, not standing here alone and thinking that he was…

He's dead. an uncomfortable thought crossed your mind. Kriff. He's dead.

You tried with all your mind not to think about it, but you knew it was true. Rex would never betray his Jedi. He would disobey the given order. And if he did… Well. You knew what was the fate of every traitor. He was dead and it was high time you admitted it.

"Hey, you! I'm kriffing talking to you! Are you done standing there like a drunk Jedi withou lightsaber?" a sharp female voice snapped you out of your thoughts.

You looked around in surprise and saw a woman in the doorway. Her face showed impatience.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, arm crossed.

"Sorry," you muttered. "I-I'm just… I worked here and…"

"Oh, great. Another sentimental clone lover who came here to think about the past. I'm sorry time have changed or whatever. Now, get out of here!"

Any other day, you would have said something mean to her, but not today. Today you were too tired and melancholic to think of any snarky reply, so you just wiped away your tears and walked towards the door, stopping only at the exit. You took one last look around the bar, ignoring the murderous glare of the woman.

"Thank you, thank you for everything," you whispered, and with the sound of a closing door, you finally said goodbye to the 79's.

#clone wars #sw fanfiction #79's #star wars fanfiction #Rex #Fives #Tup #Kix #rex x reader

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10-porgs-in-a-trenchcoat · 3 years

Text

What I See

Pairing: Clone Medic Kix x GN Medic Reader

Premise: My musings here resulted in this. You're a medic in the 501st who works closely with Kix. At first you think the crush you have on him is one-sided, until one day you look through his sketchbook and are surprised by a portrait he drew.

Word Count: ~2.2k

Rating: G

Other notes: gender neutral reader, no pronouns, no use of Y/N, no beta we die like clones

AO3

Being an army medic had its ups and downs, its slower periods and bursts of intense stressful activity. You wouldn’t trade it for anything though. The pay was better than what you earned as a civilian medical worker, your patients were much more agreeable (even though there was the occasional trooper who insisted he was fighting fit when he was still far from being so) and your coworkers were professional and easy to get along with. One coworker in particular was your favorite, and you looked forward to the shifts you shared with him.

When you first met Kix, you admired him for the love and care he showed his fellow clones and commanding officers. The two of you quickly developed a rapport; he always laughed at the bad jokes you made, and you liked to challenge him to competitions to see who could restock supply shelves in the med bay the fastest … he always won, but every time you’d stick your tongue out at him and say “I’ll get you next time!” and he would only respond with a knowing smirk.

During down time, when there were no patients and paperwork was handled, Kix would sit at his desk with a leather-bound book and a pencil. It was an odd at first, seeing the rich brown leather and sheets of paper in an austerely sterile all-white setting filled with holopads and technology, but it also looked right in his hands. Without meaning to, you’d sometimes watch as he focused intensely on whatever he was scribbling into the book, brow furrowed in concentration as he worked.

“Jesse teases me and tells me I should just take pictures,” he explained one day as he showed you some drawings in his book, “but I find this relaxing.” He flipped to a sketch of a grassy plain with mountains in the background. You marveled at the details: the colors and shading on the mountains looked like sunlight glistening off their stony faces, the grass looked so realistically textured you thought it would feel like the real thing if you touched it, and he even added some wildflowers as well.

After seeing the meticulous designs he shaved into his hair, it was no surprise that Kix was an artist.

“Looks like it could be a picture,” you commented.

“Fives said something similar once, when we were down on Felucia he caught me drawing this-“ he flipped through the book to show you a drawing of a wide-trunked tree with large drooping leaves. “I just draw what I see,” he added with a shrug.

“You’re really talented though, the best I can draw is a stick figure.”

Kix cracked a small smile. “That was once the best I could do too,” he said.

The way his lips curved in his smile, the way his eyes shone as he looked at you - in that moment you realized just how beautiful he was. Sure, he was good-looking – all the clones were – but he stood out to you.

There was no use denying it, you had a crush on him.

Before there was a chance for your thoughts to betray you in any way, Kix’s comm beeped. “Duty calls,” he said, closing his sketchbook and stashing it in a drawer under his desk. He then stood up and made his way to his station, and you followed suit. Whatever was about to come into the med bay, it would keep you busy enough to distract yourself … so you hoped.

It had to be strictly professional between yourself and Kix, you reminded yourself as the first wave of injured troopers came into the medbay. Besides, given how quickly he could turn on a heel from artist to medic like that demonstrated how dedicated he was to his work, you knew he would never let anything get in the way of his duty.

Four rotations went by. Kix went on a mission with the rest of Torrent Company, leaving you to manage the med bay on your own during your shift. It was more of the same, really … but you thought about him more than you would care to admit. Of course, you always thought about him when he went on missions, you told yourself. Everyone worried about their coworkers, right? Especially if there was a chance they might not come back?

He always came back, you told yourself. This time wouldn’t be any different.

Only it was both more of the same and different. You were working on paperwork when the med bay doors suddenly flew open, and troopers began pouring in. As soon as you commed some off-duty medics to report to the med bay, you manned the triage station so you could tend to the more critically injured troopers first. It was hectic, a flurry of stressful activity, making sure everyone who needed a bed had one and every wound and scrape was patched up. It wasn’t until everything quieted down that you found Kix in one of the beds.

Your heart dropped into your stomach when you saw him. He was asleep, undressed from the waist up with bandages and bacta patches affixed to spots on his shoulder and the side of his head, and his lower half covered with a blanket. Nodes attached to pulse points on his inner arm connected to a machine by his bed that recorded his vital signs, and everything looked normal at first glance. His chart reported a direct blaster hit to his shoulder and a graze on his head, with an expectation of a full recovery, signed off by one of the medics you called in to help. You owed that medic big time, you thought.

A glance at the nearest chronometer revealed that your shift ended three hours ago, but you couldn’t leave. You didn’t want to leave. So you grabbed a chair and pulled it over to Kix’s bed so you could sit by him. Someone had to keep an eye on him after all. It was professional courtesy, you told yourself, that was all. Besides, even though your body ached and felt heavy with exhaustion, your mind was too active and on edge for sleep.

On the floor by his bed were his things: his armor, neatly stacked and organized, next to his medical pack. Inside his pack you found his sketchbook, and you figured you could pass the time by looking at his drawings again. You found the sketch of the plain and the mountain again and took a few more minutes to admire the detail. Then the tree on Felucia, and then a tooka cat, and when you turned the page you nearly dropped the book in surprise.

Kix had drawn you. In the picture you looked off in the distance, chin propped up on your hand. The detail was incredible: the shape of your nose, your mouth, your eyebrows, all rendered with magnificent accuracy. You wondered if he drew it from memory, or used a picture as a reference, or sketched you one day on duty when you weren’t paying attention.

It had to be a picture, you decided. What you saw before you … it was an idealized version of yourself. Better-looking than anything you ever saw in the mirror.

Before you could dwell on it any longer, you heard a weak drowsy voice calling your name. You looked up and saw that Kix had woken up, his head turned towards you and his half-lidded eyes meeting yours.

“Oh- you’re awake!” you stammered, your cheeks flushing with heat as you slammed the sketchbook shut. You sprang to your feet and came to his bedside – to tend to him as a medical professional, you reminded yourself.

“What’re you doing?” he asked.

“My job,” you answered plainly. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got shot,” he answered glibly. “But I meant, what are you doing with that?” he nodded his head best he could and glanced to the sketchbook that was still in your hand.

“Oh-“ You froze for a second. “I- sorry, I just really like your ….” Your sentence trailed off as you saw apprehension flash across his face.

“It’s fine,” Kix murmured as he averted his gaze away from you.

“I … I saw you drew me.”

“Yeah … drew that when I was away … was missing you.”

Oh. Maybe he was crushing on you too … the idea was equal parts exciting and scary.

“Missed you too,” you returned, reaching down to give his wrist a gentle squeeze. “And it’s a really good drawing of me too. Did you use a picture for reference or something?”

“Memory,” Kix said plainly.

“Wow …” You opened up the sketchbook again to your drawing and gave it another lookover. “And you made me look better than I actually do.”

“No. I told you before, I draw what I see.”

Your mouth fell open slightly in surprise, and you looked up to meet Kix’s gaze again. Tired as he was, he looked at you with a soft admiration, as if he was appreciating a fine work of art standing directly in front of him. Your mind was both full and blank at the same time, feeling flattered and treasured but at the same time unsure of how to respond to him.

“I … I’ve been putting off telling you how I feel about you,” he continued, “because –“

“Your duty comes first, I understand,” you cut him off as you sat down on the edge of the bed, turning your torso to better face him and setting the sketchbook down by his head.

“No, not that. Well, it has to, but – but that doesn’t mean I can’t want more out of life.” Kix paused. He raised his hand and reached it towards you. You responded by raising up your own hand, taking his in yours, and holding it in your lap. Your other hand came to rest on his wrist. He was so warm under your touch, soft and solid and steady. You knew that you would eventually have to let go, but you didn’t want to.

“My favorite part of the day is when I get to see you, whether it’s here or in passing somewhere on the ship,” he continued, “and on the battlefield after I got shot, as I was lying there, all I could think about was how I might never see you again.”

“Kix, I-“

“You don’t have to say anything,” he interrupted you. “Except, if- if after the war’s over you wanted to give it a shot? You and me?”

“Yes.” The words immediately fell from your lips as your mouth widened into a smile. You didn’t even have to think about it, and the potential consequences that the higher-ups in the GAR might inflict upon the both of you for even entertaining the idea didn’t matter. It just felt right, the idea of you and him. You couldn’t begin to explain it.

Kix returned your smile. You raised his hand to your mouth and softly kissed the back of it before lowering it back down to your lap. Before you could disentangle your hands from his, he returned that gesture as well, pulling your hand that was intertwined with his to his mouth and pressing little kisses into your knuckles. The feeling of his lips on your hand sent pleasant little tingles through your skin.

“Let’s talk about it some more after you’ve recovered,” you suggested.

“Yeah, of course,” he agreed absentmindedly. He shifted slightly in bed but suddenly stopped and froze in place, his face twisting into a pained grimace and a hiss escaping through his teeth.

“You okay?” You asked, pulling your hand back to you and scanning his body for any other signs of distress.

“Yeah, just hurts is all.”

“Let me get you some painkillers.”

“No need, I’ve dealt with worse.”

“Kix, I insist.” You told him in the sternest voice you could muster.

“I have the right to refuse treatment, especially if the treatment is better spent on my brothers who are in worse shape than I am.”

He was right, he did have the right to refuse treatment. But you couldn’t bear the idea of him being in pain.

“Okay … how about a sleeping aid then? Or some water? Can I get you anything?”

“If you want to do something for me, go get some rest. I’ll still be here when you report for your next shift.”

“Ugh, fine. You drive a hard bargain.”

“Ah come on, you know you love me.” Kix said teasingly, punctuating his statement with a smirk and a mischievous gleam in his eye.

Giving him a small laugh and a half-hearted eye roll, you pushed yourself up onto your feet. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

Before you turned to leave, you took his hand in yours again, and took a moment to gaze in his eyes. It took everything in you to not immediately start imagining a life with him after the war. There wasn’t even any guarantee there was going to be a life after the war – the cruiser you were on might be destroyed tomorrow by the Separatists for all you knew – but the idea still filled you with hope and joy. Something to look forward to with him. Something else to fight for.

#kix x reader #kix x you #clone medic kix x reader #clone medic kix #clone trooper #clone wars #star wars #my writing

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spidernerdsblog · 3 years

Text

Don’t you love me?

A/N: Ok first of all my apologies for being so late was really caught up with my exams and other stuff. Tried my best to do justice with your request. Hope you like it.

Can you do a Peter Parker x reader where Peter already lost his virginity at some point but the reader is virgin and it’s her first time? Basically soft considerate Peter checking to make sure she’s not in pain and being really big on consent, like, she has to verbally say yes because he doesn’t want to violate her in anyway, like literally even having his hands anywhere on her, even if it’s just around her shoulder, he’ll check to make sure she’s okay first. Probably starting out watching a movie on Peter’s bed (like lotr or The Hobbit, I have a head canon that he loves those movies) Requested by : @tom-holland-gives-me-seratonin

Pairing : Peter Parker (aged up) x reader

Warnings : 18+, SMUT, mature content

You met Peter Parker in the first year of your Uni. Both of you were pursuing your Bachelors in Biophysics from the prestigious Empire State University. For you his first impression was that of a cute awkward nerd in thick rimmed specs who got all nervous around women. But something of him intrigued you especially when he sometimes used to mysteriously disappear in thin air without any clue. Like one time when your biology teacher turned villain Prof Miles Warren aka The Jackal unleashed his spiderman clones in the world. Peter was the first one to disappear from campus and within seconds Spiderman appeared to save the day.

You only got to know him better when you were paired with him for a research project. You had to work with him to find out the biochemical composition of a substance. First it was all professional between you but slowly you started to grow feelings for each other. Small talks led to dates and then a full fledged relationship. You were still oblivious of his alter ego but that was a matter of time when one night you heard a knock on your window and you were shocked to find a red and blue spandex suit clad none other than your friendly neighborhood Spiderman. He seemed to be badly wounded and once he took the mask off to reveal who he was underneath you were exhilarated with the fact that it was your sweet nerdy boyfriend. That night he had come to tell you that you both can't be together because of the dangerous life he leads. And he doesn't want to lose you just like he lost Gwen who became the collateral damage of his fight with Electro. Instead you made it clear that in no means you are going to leave him. He needs someone to take care of him and you want to be that person in his life. From then there was no looking back for you two.

You were happy and cherished every moment you got to spend with Peter. He was the sweetest and kindest person you have ever met. You always felt a thrill around him now that you know about his secret identity but you wanted that same thrill in your love life too to be specific your sex life. You have been in a relationship for one and a half years now but you never got to the sexy part. Whenever you used makeout and things got a little heated he used to back out immediately in spite of painful strain in his pants. You could feel he was holding back for some reason you don't understand.

Sometimes you thought maybe you were the problem because you were a virgin inexperienced. You knew about his past relationships with Gwen and MJ maybe he doesn't find you that attractive. You tried dropping hints occasionally grinding on to him while sitting on his lap kissing him or intentionally touching him on his crotch but he never used to pick up on it or straight away ignored them. But now you are desperate now if he doesn't make a move you surely will. You don't want to die a virgin.

It was a lovely evening May was out of town so you came over at Peter's to spend the night with him. You were snuggled close to Peter on the couch practically laying over him watching one of his all time favorite The Hobbit his hand wrapped around you drawing lazy circles on your skin. Your eyes were trained on the TV screen, eyebrows knitted in a frown as you gnawed your lower lip. Peter noticed that and he knew you only did that when something is bothering you.

"What's wrong babe?" He asked sweetly like all the time he does.

''Huh?" You were snapped out of your daze.

"Nothing Peter." You replied dryly.

"C'mon don't lie to me I know something is bothering you." You sat up on the couch and looked at him carefully before straight away asking

"Peter don't you love me?" Peter was taken aback at your sudden question.

"What? No, Y/N what made you think that? Did I do something wrong? Oh is it for me not showing up for the presentation with you. I'm so sorry Y/N but I had to go on that mission the Avengers needed me. I promise this will never happen again." He continued rambling which melted your heart at how pure and innocent he was and now you started feeling guilty for making him feel like that.

"Hey, ssh, ssh.." You sit up on your knees cradling his face with your hands bringing him close to your chest. He stopped rambling, nuzzling his face into your warm chest.

"I'm not mad at you for ditching me at the presentation though I was a little at first." You shrugged

"But that's ok I made peace with that a long time ago because with great powers comes great responsibilities." you chuckled making Peter smile but he still wasn’t convinced.

"Then what is it darling?" He nudged you. You gathered all your courage taking a deep breath and shut your eyes close before blurting out.

"I want to have sex Peter! I know it was a little straight forward from me but Peter we have been together for more than a year and I love to spend my time with you, cuddle you to sleep, making out on a lazy Sunday morning but I want more. And every time things start going there you back off leaving me high and dry. You ranted.

"Oh" that was the only reaction Peter gave you after your nearly one minute rant.

"I don't want to sound pushy. I know I'm a virgin not as experienced like you and maybe not as attractive like your previous girlfriends. But I want to do it with you, I want you to be my first." You continued with your rant.

"Hey, hey…" he sat on his knees cupping your face with his large calloused palms.

"I'm so sorry Y/N for making you feel like that. Believe me you are the most beautiful and smart woman I have ever met in my life."

"You know with this superstrength and my heightened senses I sometimes can't trust myself. What if I get too carried away and end up hurting you? And the last thing I want is to hurt you Y/N." his gaze dropped to his lap.

"Hey look at me" you placed your hands on both sides of his face making him look at you.

"You. Can. Never. Hurt. Me. Do you understand?" you said gazing firmly into his eyes. He nodded, smiling and sealed his lips to yours. The kiss grew heavier as he pushed you back making you lay down on your back on the couch. His lips never left yours, you slightly parted your lips allowing him to slip his tongue inside your mouth. His hands went under your sweatshirt drawing lazy patterns on your skin gently tugging onto it. You broke off the kiss trying to catch your breath and got up a little as Peter helped you to pull off your sweatshirt revealing your lacy bra.

He slotted himself between your legs and you wrapped them around his hip out of instinct. Peter kissed your cheeks slowly. You tilted your head a little as he dragged his lips down your neck, nose brushing against your flushed skin as he left butterfly kisses all over your exposed skin.

"Let me show you how much I love you." His glanced up to you voice low which sent shivers right down to your core.

He moved down further leaving a trail of wet kisses along the valley of your breasts as he pulled down your bra and latched on to one of your nipples sucking on to it gently, his other hand fondling with your other breast. You moaned as your nipples felt sensitive under his touch. Your fingers tangled with his soft brown curls as he licked and gently nipped on to your skin. His hand went to your back unclasping your bra as you slid it and threw it away. Your hands tugged on to his shirt he took the que and took it off. A light gasp escaped from you at the sight of his taut abdomen muscles as you ran your hands gently over them encircling your hands around his neck pulling him down to kiss him again. He then crawled down placing soft kisses along the way from your chest to your naval and pulled down your sleep shorts. He felt himself twitch at the sight of seeing you all soaked up for him.

"Who made you this wet babe?" He asked you teasingly running a finger through your clothed heat

"You Petey." You whimpered, biting your lower lip. Oh that pet name from your mouth did things to him as he felt himself grow painfully hardert in his sweatpants. He hooked his fingers to the waistband of your panties and looked up to you eyes seeking permission. You nodded to tell him to go on. He peeled them off you. You felt a little intimidated as you closed your legs a little before Peter stopped you.

"Don't be shy darling,you have no idea how pretty you are." He praised which made your cheeks turn to the brightest shade of pink. He spread your legs wide and ran his finger through your slick folds you let out a whimper at his touch. He brought his finger coated with your wetness to his mouth and sucked on it.

"You taste so sweet babe can't wait to taste more of you." He leveled his face to your soaking core placing butterfly kisses on your inner thighs making you squirm. Finally he decided to pay attention to the place where you needed him the most. Peter hooked his arms to your thighs and placed a soft kiss on your heat and you felt like your whole body combust into flames. He licked a long, bold stripe through your slit as you gasped loudly. You moaned as he sucked on to your bundle of nerves flicking it with his tongue.

"Shit! Peter this feels so good!" Peter smirks against your heat delving into you as if you were his last meal.

He inserts a finger inside you and begins pumping it in and out of you simultaneously sucking on to your clit. Your body arched when he added another finger. His long slender fingers hitting all the right spots inside you as Peter felt your legs tremble in pleasure. Your hands went on to grab his hair tugging on it as his groaned face nuzzled into your heat. He lapped up all your juices. You felt yourself reaching the edge as a tight knot started to grow in your stomach clenching around his fingers.

"Let go Y/N I got you." He coaxed you curling his fingers inside you and you felt the coil snap as you orgasmed incoherently moaning his name. Peter worked you out through your high. He pulled away and slowly crawled up to you.

"You okay?" You hummed in reply still coming down from your high. He kissed you and you tasted yourself on his lips.

"Y/N you have to promise me if at any moment you feel like it's too much you will stop me ok?"

"Yes Peter I'll."

He got up and went to fetch a condom. He got rid of his pants and boxers and your eyes went to his throbbing length. You felt a little jittery as you were lying down on the couch in anticipation of what was going to happen next.

"It's rude to stare, you know." He quipped, you rolled your eyes.

He pumped himself a few times before tearing the foil and rolling the condom over his length and got on top of you propping himself on his forearms.

"It's going to hurt a little, I'll go slow don't worry." He brushed his tip on your folds spreading your wetness, then slowly guided himself inside you. You winced at the stinging sensation squeezing your eyes shut when you felt his tip stretching you open, your hands grabbed on to his biceps tightly. Peter’s eyes were trained on you as soon as he noticed your painful expression he stilled himself completely pulling out of you.

"Are you okay? Did I hurt you? I'm so sorry Y/N." He asked with a worried face and it made you fall in love with this man all over again making you forget all your pain.

"It's ok Peter, I'm fine. Just you know you are a little big for me. You said coyly.

"Okay I have an idea" he sat up on the couch leaning his back on the backrest of the couch as you sat up on your knees. He pulled you into his lap placing your legs on both sides of his thighs straddling him. He slowly guided you to position your and lower yourself onto his shaft.

"Just relax, take your time baby. I’m here for you." He reassured you. You went down carefully taking your time accommodating him inside you. You both let out a moan when he completely filled you up stretching your walls. You stayed like that for a while letting yourself adjust to him.

"Fuck! You're so tight baby, I’m not gonna last long" he whispered brushing his lips against your ear making you shudder. He slowly guided you to lift your hips on and off him.

You caught on to the rhythm and began to move up and down on your own, riding him at a slow pace. Your palms placed flat on his chest the faint stinging sensation fading away as little waves of pleasure took over you making you moan softly. Peter hesitantly placed his hands on your waist trying not to grip on it too hard.

"It's okay Pete you can hold me I'm not made of glass, I will not break so easily." You chuckled. He wrapped his arm around your waist and another hand went to your face brushing away the hairs falling on your face. You began to pick up speed, your hips rolling onto his shaft harder and faster, beads of sweat forming on your bodies, your breasts rubbing against his muscular chest. You pressed your forehead to his closing your eyes starting to feel a little tired. Peter noticed that and held on to your hips stilling you at your place as he bucked his hip thrusting deep inside you hitting your g spot.

"Oh Pete right there!" you moaned. Peter began thrusting inside you with a new vigor as you clenched hard around him feeling the coil tighten inside you again. You were a moaning and panting mess by now your head dropped to the crook of his neck nibbling on to his smooth skin.

"You’re gonna cum for me darling?'' You could only nod in reply.

"Then cum for me, let me see my baby fall apart on my cock." A few more deep thrusts and you felt your walls pulsate as you came all over him. His thrusts grew sloppier as he chased his own high. You felt him twitch inside you and with a final thrust he was soon spilling inside the condom. You collapsed on top of him, face nuzzled into the crook of his neck, feeling exhausted from the speed and intensity of the deed you just engaged in.

"Wow" you said in between erratic breaths.

"You did so well babe." he mumbled, kissing your hairline while caressing your sweaty back with his hand as you both came down from your own highs. A few seconds passed before you finally sat up and lifted yourself off him. His hair was a mess, his soft brown eyes staring at you intently before lifting his hand to your cheek brushing his thumb on your cheekbone.

''You're so beautiful."

"Shut up" you felt shy under his gaze as you lightly slapped on his chest and rested your head against his broad chest again.

"I love you" you mumbled, closing your eyes listening to his slow and steady heartbeat.

"I love you too" he wrapped you in his arms sighing with content.

#tom holland #peter parker #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker fluff #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #request

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